Eh- Some days are just so so

My day has been quite interesting- if not a bit off-kilter for me. While my last evening and morning were fabulous, my day hasn't been as good.

Last night, Roy and I stayed up way late watching Further Tales of the City, Vol. 1 on DVD. We had no idea it was going to be a 3-hour movie! Daaaang. Anyways, we went to sleep might late and woke up mighty late. This morning Roy fixed breakfast burritos for us and we puttered around until we both had to leave. We both had a nice break- and, it helped that I was staying home out of the advice of dear friends.

Anyways, upon getting to work, I learned that I had misunderstood a parishioner's request for something and thereby my response was skewed. It sorely upset my friend and parishioner, however, in response, we came to an amiable solution (but the stress of goofing on a friend irritates me). Then, while trying to do something cool to my computer, I went into the Window's Registry and caused a huge irritation whereby whenever I now double click on a file folder, my computer goes into search mode, instead of showing the contents of the folder. Grrrrrrrr...! I have no idea (yet) how to correct this problem but I am thinking the solution will bring me back into my Registry (which is one place that scares me to go).

But then, our church's sandwich distribution went amazingly well- and amazingly fast. Nearing 4:00pm, we had a line stretched down the block. Sadly, there aren't enough sandwiches for everyone (there rarely is nowadays). There are just so many people standing in line. While the joy of helping others is wonderful, lately it has been followed by a touch of sadness knowing we never have enough for everyone.

In a little while, I am about to talk with a fella who is considering going to seminary. He has been visiting several schools in the last two months (including Union Seminary, the Pacific School of Religion at Berkeley, and Harvard Divinity School). We are going to talk about what he found and help begin the discernment process. He is a great guy- wherever he goes, the school will be blessed to have him. Helping someone in their challenging times of discernment is always a blessing for me. I love to see folks take those great risks- which necessitates using their faith in God in profound ways.

So, yeah, today has had some great experiences and one or two I'd rather forget about. But all in all, it's balancing itself out. I am glad my relationship with God isn't measured and determined by how many good things I do in contrast to how often I screw up. God loves me just the way I am and in spite of my goofups and missteps. This is what is so amazing about grace (sorry to borrow that book title in making my point): God loves me in spite of my weaknesses and strengths. Which is a good thing, especially if you tend to screw up a lot, like I sometimes do. ;)

Just when you think it couldn't get any worse..

I live in a dominican neighborhood at the northernmost top of Manhattan in an area known as Inwood. It is pretty much a nice place to live. The rent is cheap (I pay $925 for a fiarly large 1BR), the local cuisine is fairly low priced (I can get an amazing breakfast deal for $3.25 and a decent dinner meal for under $10), and there are a plethora of amazingly cool .99 Cent stores that sell everything from tools, to cookware, to burritos.

What I do not like about my neighborhood is the merange music. At first, I thougth I could get used to it. When you hear it, it sounds very happy and does make a person feel good. The trouble is, I don't actually hear it "directly". I hear it as it passes through my walls from apartments all over my building and the buildings surrounding my apartment. I get the deep bass (as its turned up to ear-splitting decibels) that shakes my walls, paintings, floors, and teeth. AND.. (this is the annoying part).. AND, all the songs have the same bass beat.

The music in my neighborhood pretty much blares at all times of the day and night. Sometimes, there is a lull in the music and I can get some peace and quiet. At other times, say, at 3am in the morning, it gets turned up, my teeth begin to chanel the bass music, and fury begins to froth deep within my loins.

But then.. just when I thought the music was more than I can tolerate, something else happened that topped even the loud music. Every night, about 10pm, we now have an ice cream truck that begins its evening by parking in front, or near, the apartments on my block. The music from the truck, turned up to drown out the loud merange music (so you can imagine how loud it is), is this chorus of sound that plays over and over and over.. and it begins with, "Hello!!.. (music, music, music).." Arghhh!! The ice cream truck plays, in one place (usually right outside my window), for about 4 hours (usually ending about 2am in the morning). The only establishments that are up later that the ice cream truck are the many barber shops dotting each corner. They don't open until around 8pm and they close about 4 am. Is that nuts? However, I must digress because that is for another post.

I heard from some neighbors that they think the ice cream truck is really a vehicle that delivers the various drugs in the neighborhood. That actually makes sense- if you are ever wanting to get high without actually smoking pot, you can just walk up my block and the smell of exhaled pot will surely do the trick.

Do I live in a schwanky 'hood or what? My friends all say, "Bo, you get what you pay for," meaning because my rent is so cheap, I shouldn't be surprised that I live amidst the craziness of Inwood. However, the thought of paying $1800/mo for a 1BR apartment the size of my living room with a tiny closet in the bathroom is nuts (there are many apartments like this; heck, a friend of mine lives in one where his shower is located in his kitchen and the toilet in a hallway water closet). Living like that just isn't appealing to me.

Sure, my apartment has a few downsides (like the ceiling in my bathroom that leaks water several times a day so bad that Roy now keeps an umbrella near the toilet for those moments when he's caught beneath a cascade of water while sitting on the pot); and yet, I live far enough away from the city that I sometimes feel like I live in another country (it doesn't hurt that few restaraunts or businesses speak any English whatsoever). New York City is such an amazing place for sure. (By the way, the super has promised the water will stop falling, while its taken him 3 months to actually do it, I've noticed that my bathroom ceiling hasn't leaked all day now- I sure hope that's a good sign).

No matter how ill I speak of my neighborhood though, there are still some amazing things to like about it. I have a couple of the city's most beautiful parks nearby, I am about 4 blocks from the Hudson River and the Harlem River. There is, surprising as it may sound, no crime. The food is cheap and the subways are just around the corner. I guess my big learned lesson in all of this is that a person can put up with a whole lot more than one realizes... one just has to get to the point where that becomes more applicable to one's life situation.

Appreciating my life lesson reminds me of a saying I heard when I was young, "I once complained about having no shoes until I met a man who had no feet." That saying sort of puts things in perspective for me (not that I am NOT planning on moving, mind you, but that I really shouldn't complain. It really could be worse...knocking on wood, "thump, thump, thump").

The Witch of Endor

Ever since I was a kid, I have always loved the television show Bewitched, not just because most of the characters in it were gay in real life (Darrin, Endora, Doctor Bombay, Uncle Arthur, and Samantha's dad, played by Ceasar Romero, I can't remember his onscreen name), I've just enjoyed the fun of the humor, popping in and out of places, and the crazed responses of Darrin and Samantha's neighbors.

So, coming upon the story in the Old Testament about the Witch of Endor was funny because now I understood where Samantha's mom's name came from, her name in the show was Endora. Reading the story found in 1 Samuel 28, it is interesting to read and wonder if it really is possible to speak with the dead, as is seen in the current television show, Crossing over with Jonathan Edwards. I found a great article commenting on the funky story, you can find that by going here to the article on beliefnet.com. If my link doesn't work, just type in Endor in the search engine and go to the article entitled The Bible's Witch of Endor. I worry that my link won't work because the site may require you to sign up to access the article (it's free, by the way).

Personally, the story is about as believable as the angels who married the daughters of the earth to produce really tall and valiant men as described in Genesis 6:1-4. I think its cool to think about it though, in a Lord of the Rings kind of way, where the Nephilim were, "the heroes that were of old, warriors of renown." Reading the story of the witch of Endor though, the author in the article explains the craftiness of the witch once she learned that it is Saul who asked her to conjure up Samuel. It's interesting that Samuel actually appears though- and for a guy raised to discount those fortune tellers and palm readers I see in every town, it gives me pause to go, "hmmm..." I haven't ever been to a palm reader but I have been even more curious since moving to New York where a person sees them on practically every corner.

But I do tend to think about the Bible's very explicit warning against participating in such activities. Not because I think I'll go to hell or anything, but because I believe there really are spirits of all sorts, and I have enough of a time handling the ones that I presently contend with. I am such a wuss I guess. ;)

Stymied

I got a stye in my eye. Ouch! It crept up this week and has been getting bigger, burning more, and I think is about to come to a head. I hope this doesn't gross you out.

Roy, my boyfriend, recommended (and later, just went ahead and did it when I expressed my hesitation) to apply that inner layer found inside an eggshell on my eyelid. He said to apply it before bedtime and sleep with it until the next morning when I take it off. We've been doing that for about 2 nights, and tonight, I'll do it before I go to bed. It is supposed to "ripen" the stye so it'll be ready to pop sooner. So, as I've applied it, I've noticed that when I awake in the mornings, my eye is crusted over with the dryed puss. (I am getting grossed out typing this).

Worried about the puss, I called Mom to ask her opinion. She'd never heard of the eggshell thing but recommended I put a hot and salty compress on my eye for 20 minutes a night until the stye pops. The thought of salt coming near my eye has made me a bit skittish. When I expressed my concern, she recommended that I could just go to my doctor so he can lance it. She cautioned against that though saying it'll hurt like a dickens and I'll have to pay my doctor for the experience.

So, after hearing both Roy's and Mom's advice, I went and spoke with a pharmacist at a nearby all-night pharmacy. The pharmacist recommended I do nothing and let it come to a head on its own. She recommended I purchase (how thoughtful) a gel called Stye that'll help my eye not itch, burn, or hurt anymore. Thinking she was more of an expert than the old wives tales of my bf and my mom, I bought the gel. And you know what? It hurts and burns and itches now more than it has all week long.

So, I am going to wash off the gel and apply the eggshell remedy here pretty soon before I go to bed. I am thinking there is something more to the old wives tales (even if they come through my bf).

When sex sells.. everyone gets screwed

Reading over at salon.com, I found this very interesting article about Brittany Spears and her downward spiral from glamour to trailer-trash (not that there is anything wrong with trailer life). The author brilliantly reveals the lies and deceptions of those who've marketed (and made money off of) Brittany and how that manipulation is what has caused Brittany to, well.. decend to her present place among the halter-top and Daisy Duke folks.

Interestingly, the author of the article explains the weird hypocrisy of one particular early Brittany presentation. She said, "[Brittany] was playing a devilishly destructive role, talking about her virginity at a register audible only to the kids who idolized her. Sex is dirty, sex is wrong unless you are married, she was telling girls who might have had a shot at guilt-free sexual liberation. Meanwhile, she was winking at their fathers, suggesting, in horrible ways, that she was dancing for them." Brittany turned sex into something confusing, dirty, and just plain weird to the audiences that she influenced.

Sex doesn't have to be this sleazy- nor does it have to be this manipulatory. God created us to be loving and joyful partakers of life. And, God created our desire and pursuit of sex to bring us great joy in the process of loving our spouses, partners and significant others. When used in the right spirit, it becomes a joy that is full of amazement and soulful passion.

However, when we abuse joyful sex, it turns around and abuses us instead. That's the funny thing about sex. In a way, sex is somewhat like alcohol. It may transform itself into whatever emotion it was first encountered with. With alcohol, if we are happy when we take our first sip, it can make us happier. If we are angry, then it usually makes us angrier. With sex, if we are loving when we have sex, then it can make our relationships happier. If we are deceitful when we engage it, it often becomes a dirty secret that we have to hide and thereby miss the fruits of joy that ought to be experienced long afterward. If we are sleazy when we engage in it, then it may only hieghten the sleaze into something we'll later regret (ie, cause great shame). Too bad for Brittany that she is learning about sex the hard way (no pun intended).

Regardless of what you think, I am still me

I found this great post written by someone who likened her ontological existence to a tree. Written with a simple analogy, she talks about folks who argue whether or not, she is justified in being a gay woman. After reading the article, let me know what you think.

These are a few of my favorite things...

Songbird, Eva Cassidy
Celebrate! Music of the 60's, Turtle Creek Chorale
Frisco Jazz Band, Turk Murphy
My Best, John Denver
On the Rocks- Lounge Compilation
Lifted, Songs of the Spirit, Starbucks compilation CD
O Brother, Where Art Thou Soundtrack
Capitol Collections Series, Kay Starr
16 Most Requested Songs, Doris Day
Self-titled, Rufus Wainwright
Come Away with Me, Norah Jones

Okay, I realize some of these cd titles might embarrass you just reading them. But hey, its my music and I like them (and yes, John Denver really isn't that bad). It's wild how a fella can get attached to his music.

This summer, I was invited to spend a week of rest and relaxation with a bunch of friends at the Pines section out on Fire Island. Fire Island is an island with several communities and fancy homes on a strip of land on the southeast shore of Long Island. On the island, there are no streets (and cars aren't allowed on it), only miles and miles of boardwalks. And, the island is only accessible via a ferry boat. It's a schwanky vacation destination for those who are a) rich enough to own a summer beach house on the island, b) almost rich enough yet not yet and choose instead to buy a "summer share" out there, or c) have generous friends who enjoy your company. I am in the "C" category.

Anyways, when I was there, I overslept on the day I was to leave and almost missed my boat back to the mainland. Rushing frantically, I grabbed my duffle bag and left running for the boat. Making it at the last moment, I remember that I forgot my cds. Pulling out my cell phone, I called a couple of my friends who stayed behind at the house to say, "Could someone grab my cds and we'll meet up in the city later."

Well, later bacame one heck of a long time. As it happened, I finally got my cds back last night. And I am one happy fella. It's funny how you get used to familiar tunes- and I have been humming several of the songs I've been sorely missing. The one cd that I have missed the most is the 60's collection from the Turtle Creek Chorale. It is a fun assortment of some great folk music and happy music.

As a result of my temporary loss of music, I am contemplating the purchase of an iPod. I doubt I'd rush to a boat if I left it behind (I'd just take the next one in the harbor) and it seems like a great idea. But daaaaaaaaang, them iPods aren't cheap. Maybe I ought just buy a leash for my cd case and tie it around my neck. Sure, I'll look goofy but at least I won't forget my cds. And, if I am going to carry John Denver and Doris Day with me anyway, what does it really matter how goofy I am going to look?

Midtown New York City View

I went to a friend's birthday party yesterday and this is a view from his balcony overlooking midtown New York City. You can see the Empire State Building in the background on the left.
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Irrevocable Calling

Lately I've been talking with several guys who have been struggling ever so greatly with what they believe God would have them do--and more importantly, the fact that they haven't been doing what they think they should be doing in the first place.

I spoke with one of these guys a few Sundays ago and listened as he talked about what he always believed as God's call to ministry. Knodding in agreement with this man's struggle of discernment, I relayed the passage from Romans 11:29 that says, "The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable."

Sometimes it seems that God calls many of us to service and yet, so few respond right away. Perhaps the temptation to live beyond a meager salary is the cause. Perhaps the qualifications and lengthy education is another. Or, perhaps it is the negative social stigma attached to the clergy. And yet, there is another possibility that I relate to personally.

Sometimes a person can confuse God's call with a church's expectation. If that expectation is challenged, a person may then think that he or she misunderstood God's call to begin with. While I am a fervent supporter of the United Church of Christ and all its ministry--God called me to pastor first, it was only the church that confirmed that calling as well recognizing that my gifts for ministry is compatible with the United Church of Christ.

Discerning the inspiration of God is a challenging task that involves much prayer, wisdom, and faith. Often the faith that is required is also one that involves risk--jumping out when few believe you should. When I was rejected as a Southern Baptist minister for my fabulous sexual orientation, I thought my ministry was over--after all, wasn't the church's responsibility to confirm and discern what they believed God's call was for my life? Well, yes and no. Certainly the church confirms my gifts for ministry but it is up to me to discern God's call.

It took me a couple of years to feel confident that God's call upon me was irrevocable-- and it took me finding the United Church of Christ to realize a place in which I can serve. And yet, it was God who showed me the way all along. Answering God's call to service is the first step in understanding God's call, if only to say in prayer, "Okay God, I realize you want me to do something, now just show me what I should do and where I oughta go."

Once we answer the call, God directs our way into the ministry we oughta go. Perhaps you're in the wrong place to serve now? Well, if that is so, don't be surprised if you're pulled out of it-- especially if you say to God, "Show me where I oughta go."

As I talk with those struggling with their calling, a part of me remembers the joy (and struggle) about the faith that is needed in making such a drastic change. The faith they will need to respond to their call is huge because each one of these persons is not only over 40 years old but each one is also gay. In both cases, their willingness to revisit their calling and the faith they are employing is inspirational and exciting- at least, it is to me anyways.

All this just goes to show that what God begins, God completes in us.. even if and albeit long after we thought it was possible. I wonder if this belated acceptance to God's call is something akin to how Abraham and Sarah understood God's promise that they would have a child so late in life. I guess the moral to Abraham and Sarah, and those that I am talking with is that it's never too late in life to go about doing what God would have us do.

Can a fella actually read 'too much'?

I remember talking with a friend a few years ago shortly after he graduated from seminary. I had asked him what books he was currently reading and he responded matter-of-factly, "I don't read anymore. I read so much in seminary that if I look at one more book that is full of esoteric theology or some diatribe against Christian modernity, I am going to puke my guts out." Anyone who has survived seminary can attest to the insane amount of reading one has to endure- books written about books written critiquing the books about books.

While I sympathize with my friend, I am still a voracious reader. I enjoy reading books about so many different subjects- even at the same time. As you will notice, I have begun two new books. One is a light-hearted read recommended by my boyfriend (he loved it) and the other recommended by a very good friend. The two couldn't be more unlike the other.

I pretty much chunked the feng shui book I wrote about earlier. It was too silly to continue reading. I felt like Harry Potter having to sit through Sibyll Trelawney's Divination class at Hogwarts. Just as he felt she was off her rocker, so do I feel about all things feng shui.

I'll let you know how both books turn out. I've been reading them for about a day now. The book, The Men from the Boys, is turning out to be quite good. The story of the book is set in Provincetown and explains the life of three best friends, Lloyd, Jeff, and Javitz. I am at the point in the story where Jeff meets young Eduardo while Jeff's lover, Lloyd is away for the summer. It is funny and charming- and since my boyfriend is a bit like Eduardo, I can see why he recommended it to me (although I don't have a lover like Jeff has). Anyways, its a charming read so far.

The Cotton Patch book is a collection of sermons preached by Clarence Jordon. Jordon is the founder of Koinonia, a Christian commune near Americus, Georgia. Began in 1942, the commune is rather amazing in itself in that it is run like a farm but provides opportunities in which it helps create and build discipleship schools, builds houses and them sells them to poor families, and providing jobs for poor and rural families on the farm, in food processing, sewing, and craft industries.

Jordon, while running the farm was also an astute theologian and greek scholar. The book is a retelling of Jesus' parables in a modern context (or as modern as Jordon was, he died in the 1969). An African-American, he extrapolated the social justice and the plight of the disenfranchized from Jesus' parables and retells them in a very inspiring way. Even though the book is relatively short, I find myself reading only a chapter at a time- as I need time to assimilate his points and meditate on his wisdom. I'll let you know how this book turns out too.

You know, I just can't imagine thinking to myself that I have read enough books. There are so many out there- and so many from different genres that I doubt I'll have enough time in my paltry life to even stratch the literary surface. But heck, I am sure gonna try!

from my feng shui book...

"...if there is a big shower drain [in the wrong corner of your house], it may be undermining the support you need to prosper. To resolve this problem, tie a red ribbon or red tape around the outgoing pipe (see figure 29). If it is a shower or floor drain, either use a decorative drain stopper, or get red under the existing stopper (enamel paint sprayed in drain), or keep the drain closed when not in use... These little cures can make a big difference in the flow of ch'i in your home." -("Move your Stuff, Change your Life" by Karen Carter)

You just can't make up this stuff any better. Okay, so the feng shui book was a bad idea. Mostly, it breaks up your house into quadrants where you are to ensure that what you have in one quadrant compliments what you have in another one. All this, not meant as a decorative guide to your house, is like some sort of fortune telling way to help you achieve, health, wealth, and happiness.

The Bible says that there is a way which seems right to us but its end is the path of destruction. I doubt that feng shui is a path towards destruction- it does help a person think about ways in which to do something about their situation in life, and that is a good thing. The sad part is that it tells you to do things that don't really affect how life operates. A mirror in the corner of my apartment isn't going to affect how my friends treat me.. really!

It is similar to the popular notion of 'scapegoating'. When we blame others for our situation in life, we misplace what we really need to change. When we blame others for our own condition, we miss the opportunity to direct our energies toward the real solution. Of course, some people don't scapegoat on purpose, they really believe that allowing two women to marry in a county in upstate Washington really will cause them to stop loving their spouses and the spirituality of a nation will become bankrupt and God will allow America to be punished and terrorists will bomb our cities. But then, those people are probably the same ones who'd be inspired to read Move your Stuff, Change your Life: How to Use Feng Shui to get Love, Money, Respect, and Happiness. Both are misplaced. Both will never find the solution they're looking for. And both may create more problems than if they just sat down, prayed for discernment, and asked themselves, "What am I doing that is causing my life to be such a mess in the first place."

As for me, I am going to read a book I picked up in a sale rack awhile back, its called You'll Never Pay Full Price Again When You Learn How To...Shop Like A Coupon Queen by Michele Easter.

The Healing Touch of Christ

** Disclaimer: Religous joke ahead**


Three guys were fishing on a lake one day, when Jesus walked across the water and joined them in the boat.

When the three astonished men had settled down enough to speak, the first guy asked humbly, "Jesus, I've suffered from back pain ever since I took shrapnel inthe Viet Nam war. Could you help me?"

"Of course my son," Jesus said. When Jesus touched the man's back, the man felt relief for the first time in years.

The second man, who wore very thick glasses and had ahard time reading and driving, asked if Jesus could do anything about his eyesight. Jesus smiled, removed the man's glasses and tossed them in the lake. When the glasses hit the water, the man's eyes cleared and he could see everything distinctly.

When Jesus turned to heal the third man, the guy put his hands up and cried defensively, "Don't touch me! I'm on long-term disability!"

Neurotically persistent

Okay, so I know I can be neurotically persistent. I know this because I have had a few jobs in my life where I developed this trait to the highest level. I have worked in those tedious data-entry jobs where you are to type entries cataloging auction results, been a bookkeeper where tedious number entries and balancing took lots of time and patience, and typed out manuscripts based on taped conversations that take hours upon hours to complete.

I say this to point out my blogging woes this morning. From my home internet connection, I was unable to upload my blog entry about the Sermon on the Mount. I kept getting this, "failure to load" message. So, do you know what I did? I kept trying to load it. And load it. And load it. Each time, I got the same message. So, I continued. And continued. Finally, I stopped only because I needed to go into work.

So, I get to work and, having emailed the text of what I wanted to put in my blog, went to upload it from church. I get here, copy and paste the text and upload it to my blog. Checking my blog to make sure it was okay, I noticed 15 entries of the same entry (it seems I was successful uploading it at home after all). In any event, I had to go and delete all my entries and had the epiphany that I am still neurotically persistent, even as I approach my 39th birthday.

Some things never change I guess.. my only worry is that I'll become even worse. I can see myself as an old man, who, unable to open my can of "mush spam", slush prune juice, or super concentrated Metamucil, I'll stay up all night with a knife and hacksaw trying to open the can when I could've just used the new-fangled lazer can opener I mis-placed on the counter top.

[[shuddering at the thought of it all]]

A Wonderful Way to Look at Jesus

I found this interesting quote from Jordon Cooper, who is a pastor up in Canada. He was explaining how the Sermon on the Mount might be understood from a different perspective.

What if all of this [Christ's teaching in the Sermon] is not new and more stringent rules for us to observe but rather a picture of the way God is? Of course, we are forever getting confused into thinking the scripture is mainly about what we are supposed to dorather than a picture of who God is. If Jesus had put forth behavior like turning the other cheek when someone strikes you as a useful tactic for bringing out the best in other people, then Jesus could be justly accused of ethical naivete. But the basis for the ethics of Sermon on the Mount is not what works but rather the way God is. Cheek-turning, is not advocated as what works (itusually does not), but advocated because this is the way God is--God is kind tothe ungrateful and the selfish. This is not a stratagem for getting what we want but the only manner of life available, now that, in Jesus, we have seen what God wants. We seek reconciliation with the neighbor, not because we will feel so much better afterward, but because reconciliation is what God is doing in the world in the Christ.

Thinking about the impact of God's mercy is astounding to me. It is the mercy of God that continues to affect how God relates to you and I. In God's mercy, we find that God continually forgives, atones, makes right, pour out the Spirit- for each of us. Regardless if we're able to live up to the standard or not, God loves us anyway. And the Sermon on the Mount points us to other ways in which God relates to us- in the way Jesus tells us we ought to live.

Another way in which we can look into the mind and behavior of God is to look at the life of Jesus. Look at how he related to his friends, the strangers surrounding him, or in response to his critics, Jesus' always had a word of compassion or an insight into the mind of his oppressor (sometimes with a funny zinger included). Both Jesus' life and the words he spoke give us direct access into the mind and motivation of God. Is that special or what?

Figurines on my Desk

This is the Buddy Christ, from the movie Dogma. My brother, who knows how much I love the movie, gave me this figurine as a gift. I keep it on my desk at the church- just about everyone asks me, "What the heck is that all about?!"

This should come as no surprise...

You'll notice a couple of new books on my recommended reading list (on the right side of the screen). One of those books is about appreciating grace- a book I've read once but am reading again. It is amazing. The other book is about something so very different- it is about using feng shui to better organize my way of life. I have a couple of friends who are very big into feng shui. Part of me thinks its all a bunch of crap- but then, I am quite the clutter-dog, so maybe I oughta look more into it.

So, by looking into it, I went to a bookstore and bought the book with the coolest looking book cover. I'd've chosen something else but there were so many selections and choices. Admittedly, choosing the book by its bookcover goes against all preconceived logic (remember the addage, "Never judge a book by its cover")- and yet, how the heck am I supposed to make a decision when Barnes and Nobles has 852 other books about it? Okay, so shallowness aside, I got the book I now have. It is officially called, Move your Stuff, Change your Life: How to Use Feng Shui to get Love, Money, Respect, and Happiness by Karen Rauch Carter. Another reason I chose this book is that not only does it promise my room will be less cluttered but that I might also get some money in the process. How cool is that?! I'll let you know if the book is crappy or helpful.

It's been a busy week

I love being productive- its something I was ingrained with as a boy. However, part of that ingraining process included some interesting twists. For instance, my mother used to say (about my bedroom), "a cluttered bedroom is a cluttered mind." Given how my brain has always seemed to be cluttered with something, I reasoned that I couldn't ever do anything productive unless my bedroom was clean. Now, in my adulthood, I can't seem to do anything unless my whole apartment is tidy and clean.

So.. you'd think my apartment was extra clean- the thing is, it isn't. It's tidy for sure but not super-duper clean. So, whenever I have projects to do for church or sermons to write, I have to stop periodically and clean. So, I clean a little, and write a little. And this goes on all night. Part of me is thinking, if I got a maid, then I'd get more work done. But then, how would I know if my mind is cluttered if someone else does the cleaning in my apartment? Hmmm...

Anyways, I have had a busy week. I preached yesterday morning up at my former church in Scarsdale, NY. It was a great time and I loved seeing all my old friends there. Following the service, I came home, changed clothes (can you believe the church is Scarsdale doesn't have air conditioning?- my shirt and suit was drenched in sweat). I went back to my church (our services are at 5pm) and preached the same sermon I preached at Scarsdale (with only minor situational changes). Several people commented that they enjoyed how I interpreted the text based on the lectionary reading; they appreciated how I gave them something to really 'chew on'. Other folks enjoyed the references to the Broadway musical Rent that I used in the sermon. Click here to read the sermon. Following the service, we had communion (which is my favorite church liturgical experience). And, get this: we had a ton of visitors. And, we even had a few who came back! I love it when that happens.

On Saturday, I took folks from church up to our cabin at Lake Herriman State Park for a day of R & R. It was a nice trip and I had fun rowing across the lake as well as sleeping and catching up on a book I'd been reading.

This week will be somewhat busy but not as hectic as last week. I am sure I'll get all caught up in no time.

Oh, and I finally finished the book Dry, by Augusten Burroughs. Wow!! It was a great read. The book is a sequel to Burrough's Running with Scizzors. It is about his life as an adult and details his struggle with alcoholism. The book is funny and poignant. I'd definately recommend it- but first, read Running with Scizzors. That way, you'll understand the chronology better.

I'll write more this week- sorry for the absence of stuff last week.

What is Church to you?

I am reading this interesting, if not a bit "over the top" article at Bruderhof about a post-modern poetic waxing about what "true Church" is supposed to be. The article takes the noun of church and looks at it like a verb. Look at this point-

"Church is not about what gets proclaimed by a preacher or taught by an instructor. It’s not just songs, sacraments and ceremonies. The church is what gets lived out in daily life by a people who bind themselves together to live for God’s kingdom of unity, justice and peace."

It is hard to argue with this and its very thoughtful, however, much of the article is about why the modern church sucks though- and that is a shame (as well as being a bit judgmental- the author assumes his experiences of church are what everyone else experiences). I am a bit of a church-nerd. I love going to church as well as living as the church- I also love my experience with God as inspired through the Holy Spirit telling others about the life-changing experience of following Jesus.

My church life is about an inclusive love that allows as many people to come to the table of the Spirit as possible- where I serve, we'd rather 'err on the side of inclusion, than err on the side of exclusion' and we have a whole lot of Christians who weren't allowed to fellowship, worship, or practice their faith in the communities of faith they were raised in. We are a cornacopia of wackiness: social workers, teachers, intellectuals, spiritual humanists, doubters, lovers, burnt out but still aflame, hopeful yet realistic- in our church, we show our warts as well as live out our faith. We also have those kind of people that others tend to "roll their eyes" to when talking with a person that challenges their notions of sanity, optimism, or weirdness. It is a wonderful place for sure- but I doubt that every visitor would feel comfortable (although everyone is welcomed). We also tend to attract the kind of people like the author of this article- they come hating church but being invited by a friend, they thought they'd give it "one more shot". And in our congregation- they find a new "church" home.

I love the church where I am called to serve- both as a noun and a verb. It is one heck of a place!

One heck of an interesting fella

His name is Bill Conklin, a member of the congregation in which I serve. He lives up in Washington, DC but for a long time was an active-participant in my parish. An architect by trade, he is also a textile expert who examined and wrote about the finding of Juanita, the mumified remains of a child offered as a sacrifice in the Inca religion. He is also one of the collaborators of the Society of Religion, Arts and Contemporary Culture. The SRACC identifies itself this way,

"The Society's purpose and program are based on the belief that the roles of the arts and religion are decisive. They reflect the struggle to conserve and to recover depth and wholeness, to reaffirm personal responsibility in the face of dehumanization, to define the ground for human freedom and creativity in a culture which tends increasingly to impose impersonal tyrannies over mind and spirit. Religion in isolation from the arts is starved of concrete embodiment of its insights into the fullness of human life. Art gives religion the eyes to see ourselves in all our dimensions, the ears to hear the voice of our inner lives and the instruments with which to communicate with each other."

Okay, so Bill and I had lunch today over at The Mill, a great Korean restaurant on the Upper West side of Manhattan. Afterwards, we went out for coffee at a nearby Starbucks. Seeing how we really didn't know each other, we afforded ourselves with the time to get acquainted. During our conversation, we spoke about faith, religion, and the need to interpret and understand how it is we go about understanding God. I shared with him my moderate views (although some who read this blog may think I am just a big ol' liberal) about God and our relationship with one another (regardless of faith journeys). It was a fun time and Bill volunteered to get me information about the SRACC and Cross Currents, the magazine that highlights the scholarly work of those across religious lines.

I am pretty psyched about meeting Bill and feel blessed to have made his acquaintance. Who knew he'd be someone I could "name-drop" about. ;)

The Risks of Friendships

Okay, so I was having a late dinner the other night with another ministerial friend.  We had gone to witness and participate in an Ecclesastical Council of an ordination candidate in my care.  At the council, we reviewed her faith journey, her doctrine, and how she 'goes about doing ministry.'  After she presented and defended herself, she left the room and we talked about her (in a good way) and voted unanimously (did I spell that right?) to approve her for ordination.  She is one heck of a great lady who brings such a real and honest presentation to those with whom she ministers- she's gonna be a blessing to many in her ministry.

Anyways.. afterwards, me and my friend went out for dinner.  Sitting down to talk, we shared and laughed, and he gave me some great ministerial advice.  And I told my friend about my own fears and challenges about my life in ministry (and my future ministry, wherever that might eventually be).  And I was worried that I told my friend too much information.  But then, on my way home from dinner, I was feeling thankful for my friendship with my ministerial collegue. .  and that got me to thinking about the nature of friendships.  As adults, esp those of us who are clergy, tend to not have as many 'close friends' as we did when we were younger.  We tend to be more guarded and reveal less and less about ourselves, lest someone else be tempted with that greatest of all clergy-related sins, the sin of gossip.  We, the clergy, tend to put up with invisible wall and treat those around us with suspicion when it comes to knowing about our intimate lives.

I have been exploring my own sense of boundaries.  Being the good Oklahoma guy that I am, I tend to talk alot- and, if you stick around long enough, I've been one of those guys that'll eventually tell you what you want to know.. as I eventually get to it after talking and talking.  Having been burnt several times this last year, I've actually been talking a bit less- or at least, cutting myself off before I talk 'too much'. 

And yet.. those tried and true friendships we have with our peers and collegues involves a risk- that risk is about self-revelation and honesty.  It is about having someone you can share your crap with and still feel accepted.   And in that sharing, we find a connection that helps us realize we're all in this life together- and its those friendships that empower us.

I say all this only to point out that 'real friendships' are important to our well-being and those real friendships can only happen if we're honest and open.  Sure, we need to choose our friends wisely- oh mah gawd!  we need to be VERY wise- however, once we find someone we can trust, we really gotta take those risks of self-revelation.  It is in these risks that deep friendships are formed and our own personal lives are sustained.

 

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Cool balloon, eh?
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Today's the Day

Well, the day is here.. today is the last day of my pastor's employment at Broadway Church. She has taken another church just north of the city and today our church will celebrate her 20-year ministry. The Rev. Dr. Bonnie Rosborough has been a stalwart pastor who has been guiding the church is amazing ways. She has touched so many lives, mentoring so many future pastors, and nurturing so many disenfranchized men and women into the faith of God. She has got to be one of the most amazing people I've ever known- and to think that she's been teaching and mentoring me is both an honor and a joy. I am sooooooooooo going to miss her.

Starting on Monday, I'll be the acting-pastor once again. I filled this role a few years back when Bonnie went on her 9-month sabbatical. I've been well prepared for this particular function and am not worried. Our congregation has been well prepared too as well as preparing themselves for the changes we're going to face. Presently we're searching for an interim-pastor who'll help get us on track before we begin our search for a new senior pastor.

It's going to be a very interesting and adventurous time for a while. Please pray for us (and me) as we navigate these waters trusting in both God and one another to stay the course.

Indiana Woman Killed in Mistaken Rapture

By KIMBERLY HEFLING,
Associated Press Writer  
FREDERICKSBURG, Ind.
May 28, 2004 
 
A Blue River woman was killed yesterday after leaping through her moving car's sunroof during an incident best described as a "mistaken rapture" by dozens of eyewitnesses.
 
Thirteen other people were injured after a twenty-car pile-up resulted from people trying to avoid hitting the woman, who was apparently convinced that the rapture was occurring when she saw twelve people floating up into the air, and then passed a man on the side of the road who she believed was Jesus.  
 
"She started screaming ‘He’s back! He’s back!’ and climbed out through the sunroof and jumped off the roof of the car," said Everett Williams, husband of 28-year-old Georgann Williams, who was pronounced dead at the scene.  "I was slowing down but she wouldn't wait till I stopped," Williams said. She thought the rapture was happening and was convinced that Jesus was going to lift her up into the sky," he went on to say.
 
"This is the strangest thing I've seen since I've been on the force," said Paul Madison, first officer on the scene. Madison questioned the man, who looked like Jesus, and discovered that he was on his way to a toga costume party, when the tarp covering the bed of his pickup truck came loose and released twelve blow-up sex dolls filled with helium, which then floated up into the sky.
 
Ernie Jenkins, 32, of Fort Smith, who's been told by several of his friends that he looks like Jesus, pulled over and lifted his arms into the air in frustration and said "Come back," just as the Williams' car passed him, and Mrs. Williams was sure that it was Jesus lifting people up into heaven as they drove by him. "I think my wife loved Jesus more than she loved me," the widower said when asked why his wife would do such a thing.  When asked for comments about the twelve sex dolls, Jenkins replied, "This is all just too weird for me. I never expected anything like this to happen."

The Eight, by Katherine Neville

Holy Cow! The Eight, a book written by Katherin Neville was one heck of a fun and wonderful read (heck, even my mom liked it!). Its about a woman who is brought into a deadly game in search of the Montglane Chess Service, the mystical chess board given to Constantine by the Moors. She intwines history and historical figures around this 1000 year old chess board and its mystical pieces as it contains hidden in its pieces, a secret formula to rule the world.

The Book has its slow periods but all in all, once you pick it up, it'll be hard to put down. If you plan to read it or have already done so, please comment on it here. It'd be nice to hear what others think of this book.

Friends finding their own way

I have been talking with this really great friend of mine who is exploring his faith in a different way. As he continues on his faith journey, he is looking for expressions that meet his needs as well as answering a few of the questions that his former faith tradition either ignores, pretends doesn't exist, or is flatly hypocritical about- and he's sick of it (and for good reason).

As I look back over my spiritual "coming of age", I traveled a road that was bumpy, veering all over the road, and sometimes not on any recognizable map. I have worshipped with Baptists, Methodists, and charasmatics, participated in a deliverance ministry (casting out demons from people), I've worshipped in demonstratedly protestant churches (where you have no idea what the main message was), and ranted and supped with the best Calvinists rallying the Five Points of Calvinism (the doctrines of predestination). And then, later in life when I plunged into great despair that resulted in my spiritual life spiraling out of control, I spent many a day dazed and confused over this thing we call religion (seeing how I had such varied doses of it). With much prayer and support, I recovered from my spiritual disarray and found a spiritual home where my faith thrives and explores- it has the freedom to experience God in new ways as well as discovering God in surprising and unexpected times.

It is both through my own experiences and how I interpret the working of the Spirit that have shaped my wrestling with religion and faith- I, whether this is a good thing or not, have come to terms that my faith is separate from my religion. It should come as no surprise then when reading my posts, you may find a rant or two about the evils of religion (or, those beliefs one must adhere to in order to be 'considered a christian' by those who invent or interpret the rules). Honestly, religion can have its place, and its best place is helping people understand the work of God- its worst place, is when it only permits participation in ways its leaders deem appropriate.

Anyways, all that aside, my friend is exploring faith as it is interpreted by others who are exploring what religion means to them. He is also digging deeper into his own spirituality to find its meat. He is on an interesting faith journey, one that will turn out all right- and his journey will be filled with analysis, self-inspection, much discernment and a spirit-led pursuit. Pray for him that he might find the journey that blesses his soul- and that wherever he goes, God will precede him on his journey (making the way smoother and enlightening as he goes).

After all, it is God's promise to us that what God has begun in us, God will complete- regardless of where our journeys take us.

This explains everything!
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Yikes!
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"What's up?"

I remember in highschool how my friends and I would greet each other in the halls. We would say something like, "What's up?" or, "How's it hangin', dude?" We didn't really expect to get the lowdown on how either of us was "really feeling", only, it was a way to say hello.

Now, in my adulthood, I find that my friends often say, "Hey, what's up?" or, "How's life treating you?". I've learned that greetings rarely change. However, once in awhile, I find a friend or they find me and ask with genuine interest, "How you are doing?" It is with these special friends that I and they, have the permission to really sit down and share our lives with one another. Thomas Merton has this really great quote, which is written out below, that speaks to these conversations. His words take such intimate conversations deeper and encourage us to ask those really insightful and meaningful questions of those we call our truest friends.

Identity
Thomas Merton

If you want to identify me,
ask me not where I live,
or what I like to eat, or
how I comb my hair;
but ask me what I am living for,
in detail, and ask me
what I think is keeping me
from living fully for
the thing I want to live for.

Gotta love them vacations

Okay, so I thought I would've written more on my blog during my vacation than just that one post about getting into first class on my flight. As it turned out, my vacation was one heck of a rest and relaxation experience.

Here are the things I did on my vacation: got up late, ate brunch, hung out with my family, napped, ate, watched cable tv, went dancing, stopped off at Dunkin Donuts to bring home a dozen donuts for breakfast the next day (they make these really tastey and heavy donuts, nothing like they serve here in NYC), and then went to bed. Repeat. Of the times I varied from this schedule, I: drank Margaritas pool side (at my brother's house), played golf, visited with old friends.

My family is doing quite well. Mom is looking and feeling good, Sig is enjoying himself, my eldest brother and his family are doing well (although he did have a brief health scare on the evening of my return flight). My middle brother, well.. he is up to his old tricks again, which, as it turns, is a really bad thing. However, that is normal for him- so.. I guess things are the same for everyone.

One of the jewels in my vacation crown was the golf outing with an old friend (and his wife who kicks butt on the golf course). We both played pretty well (although he did beat the stuffing out of me), it was fun to laugh (or not have to laugh, depending on where you were sitting), swing, and get reaquainted. Thanks Paul for a great time (he reads my blog from time to time)!

The bad thing about my vacation is that it ended too soon. And, I won't be able to have another vacation until the Fall. However, that said, my vacation couldn't've been any better.

Upon returning to New York City, I feel refreshed and ready to begin again with all the fun and serious responsibilities that have waited for me. I think I'll put off some of those serious things until I get the "donut binges" out of my system- Lord only knows how that kind of withdraw can affect one's ability to get much accomplished. :)

First Class, Woo-hoo!

I finally did it- I was upgraded to First Class! Wowsers, it was an amazing experience. I got some great food, wine before and after each meal, and plenty of leg room. I'd never flown first class before and now, I want to fly it every time.

What made the trip even better was this guy who was seated next to me. Sitting down, we both noticed we carried a "spit cup" on board, and grinning from ear to ear, we both felt we'd met a kindred spirit in each other. (Isn't it amazing what smokeless tobacco can do to unite strangers?) heh heh

We sat down and began talking. We learned that we both went to the same college, knew some of the same friends, both were church guys- it was a facinating experience that revealed to us how small the world really is.

I am a big fan of being open to the movement of the Spirit- and realizing that God often connects us with other people in surprising and unexpected ways. But a person really must remain open to the movement of God for this to happen. In some ways, it is like a HotSpot at a local coffee shop- the Spirit is always on, it is up to us to get connected. Through prayer and recognizing ways in which the Spirit connects us, we find this really amazing network that God keeps up and running. By seeing God at work around me and being attentive to the Spirit, I met a new friend. Together, we talked and shared our faith; and I was enriched by his.

Who'd've thought that on a first class flight to Oklahoma, I would connect with the Spirit and meet a new friend along the way. Daaaaaaaaaaang, this is just another reason I loved my flight. Pretty cool, eh?

A Thomas Merton Prayer

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. - Thomas Merton

This prayer seems so relevant to me- sometimes I think I am haplessly stumbling along and yet, with faith, I hope to turn my haplessness into a more errant journey. (There is a difference.. at least, in my mind there is one.)

Understanding Singleness

I am going out of town tomorrow and one thing I like to do before I travel is to do a complete cleaning of my apartment. I hate coming home to a dirty place, so tomorrow before my flight leaves, I'll be scrubbing, vacuuming, and generally making my place real tidy.

Yesterday, I was in the bathroom cleaning up a bit and noticed mildrew on my shower curtains. It kinda ticked me off because I bought those curtians pretty recently with the promise on the package that mildrew cannot form on these special and expensive curtains. But then, I've never really cleaned them and they are a bit long for my shower (there is an overlap at the bottom, where all the mildrew is spreading like wildfire). Still- there is lots of gross mildew and I gotta get rid of it.

So, like all single guys everywhere (or at least, the single guys I know), instead of taking down the shower curtains to soak in bleach and scrub away the mildew, I am just going out to buy some new ones. ;) And this time, I'll buy shorter ones.

Thinking about singleness and the upkeep of all things dirty reminds me that I need to not be single. Of course, I am not being sexist (or role specific) by implying that my next boyfriend will be the cleaner in the apartment- I simply find that if I know I'll have guests or someone staying over, I am more inclinded to keep the place tidier. Being alone in the apartment, I really don't care how untidy the place gets.

Maybe this is the reason that God desires that we not be alone- otherwise, we'd all live like complete slobs.

Redneck Jokes

Q: What has 132 legs and 8 teeth?

A: The front row of a Garth Brooks concert!

++++++++

Top 10 Reasons to Know You're a Redneck

1. Your dog rides in your truck more than your wife.
2. You wear specific hats to farm sales, livestock auctions,
customer appreciation suppers, and vacations.
3. You have ever had to wash off in the backyard with a garden
hose before your wife would let you in the house.
4. You've never thrown away a 5-gallon bucket.
5. You can remember the fertilizer rate, seed population,
herbicide rate and yields on a farm you rented 10 years ago,
but cannot recall your wife's birthday.
6. You have used a velvet leaf plant as toilet paper.
7. You have driven off the road while examining your neighbors
crops.
8. You have borrowed gravel from the county road to fill potholes
in your driveway.
9. You have buried a dog and cried like a baby.
10. You've used the same knife to make bull calves steers and
peel apples.

Great Weekend

I love it when I have a lot to do and lots get done. This weekend I went to a few parties (two birthday parties, and one housewarming party), hung out with some friends, spoke at a church, stood to march in a parade (although I couldn't stay longer), and participated in a great worship service.

At church, we have several folks looking to get involved in full-time pastoral ministry. One of those folks preached one heck of a great sermon yesterday. His name is James Campbell and you can read his sermon on our church website. I tell you, that boy is gonna make a fab pastor.

This week I am preparing to go home to Oklahoma for a brief vacation. I am very much looking forward to my trip home although I am not looking forward to getting to the airport. Here in NYC, I take a subway to the train, then transfer from one train to the airport tram and then walk what seems like forever once I am at Newark Airport. The whole trip there takes about 2 hours. Yuck.

I'll post a couple of notes once I am home and let you know how fabulous a time I am having.

The Power of Prayer

**WARNING: LONG POST**

Well, it just happened again.. twice in two days it has. There are whole weeks that go by without it happening and then suddenly, out of nowhere and back-to-back no less, I am praying with people.

Yesterday was kinda tough, to be honest. A man came to the door looking for an AA/NA group, he thought they were meeting at the church where I serve. To his dismay, we have no such meetings on a Wednesday (we have them on the weekends). He was really desperate and needed to talk with someone. I, out of lack of experience, told him I am not a qualified AA person or counselor. He didn't care- he needed someone to talk with and fast. So, in a moment of confusion and sympathy, I invited him in and downstairs. We each pulled up a chair in the fellowship hall and he began to tell his story to me.

Almost immediately, he began to cry. Actually, to say that he was crying was an understatement. He was whailing... loudly... head tiled back, mouth open, slobber going everywhere, like an excited Great Dane, who welcomes you after a long absence, tears flying out, and head shaking uncontrollably. "WHY?!! Why does God allow me to suffer?!", he screamed. He is a substance and alcohol abuser and cannot break his habit. He'd been on a 2-week stint away from his family and was just now coming down from his heigh feeling guilty. "Where is your God?!! Where is my God??! Why?! Why?! Why must I suffer?!" Then, in a moment of almost exhaustion, he whispers, "I ought to just go ahead and kill myself."

All a person in my shoes could do was listen. And that I did ever so quietly. I let him cry and scream and cuss. I nodded silently while at other times simply shrugged my shoulders. There wasn't much I could say. Why indeed, does God allow us to suffer like we do? What could I have said in that moment to make him feel better or to calm him? So, I said nothing... or a long while.

Then, when his tears began to subside, I asked him about his family. He told me about his three kids and, courageous wife, who but for the grace of God, hasn't left him. I asked him if he loved his kids and if he knew that his kids (who were too young to not love their dad) loved him too. We talked about the consequences life has for us when we make bad decisions and how some of those consequences stay with us long after we make our bad choices. He seemed to agree and promised me that he'd stick around for his kids' sake.

And then.. and then we prayed. I thanked God for God's care and protection; I asked God to surround this man with kindness and people who care about him; I asked God to pour out God's spirit on us as we go about doing that which we ought, even when things get tough. I also praised God for Jesus and the love demonstrated by God for us. All the while, the man sat somewhat quietly, offering his own prayers and nodding his head every once in awhile (yes, sometimes I pray with my eyes open, sometimes I need to do that in nyc).

After it was all over and we prayed to God, the man thanked me and promised to come by once in awhile to see me, when he was sober or when he needed someone to pray for him.

I experienced a pure ministerial moment. And I did again this afternoon. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, our church (working cooperatively with the Franciscan Community Center) hand out free sandwiches on the street corner. We have our usual customers and every so often a new one who stops by for the sandwich lunch in a brown paper sack. Today, when I brought the sandwiches upstairs, there was a line around the corner and the sandwiches, which are handed out on a first-come, first-serve basis, were handed out in about 26 seconds.

As I was taking down the tables, I was approached by one of the regulars who missed the sandwich give-a-way. He is usually there right on time, today he was late. Astounded the sandwiches were gone so fast, we talked a bit about his life and hard times. Presently, he was to be evicted because the landlord in his Single Resident Occupany (SRO) apartment run with the city's Housing Authority and private owners, said he hadn't paid his rent (when he had). He was almost out on the street when he found the proof he needed, with a document trail, from his bank. Jubilant, he asked if we could thank God for this victory. Happy for him, we prayed right there on the street corner. Thanking God for God's blessings and asking the Spirit to continue to provide great things, my friend experienced a special moment with God.

I am hear to tell you, many of the folks who live and wander the streets around the church know first-hand the power of God. For some of them, God is all they have left. Their substance abuse has driven off most, if not all, family members and friends. When they are down on the luck, with only change in their pockets, they know it is only God that sustains them, even while they carry around their various demons.

When I think about the struggles of the homeless and disenfranchised in my city, (yes, New York City is my city as it is to everyone who lives here, it is their city too)- I wonder how far apart they are from the very wealthy, who, too, have their own various demons and afflictions yet fail to 'fall on their knees' when they need God the most deciding instead to trust in themselves. For many of the disenfranchised in this city that I am called to serve, I think they are the ones who God cares for in an extra special way. If only the rest of us could trust in God like they do, this world would be such a better place.

Parental Lame Excuses

Remember when you were a kid and your parents would tell you to do things NOT because they had the time to explain the dynamic between responsible parent and wayward child but, "Because I say so, that's why!"? Remember when we promised to never ever 'not gonna do that' to our kids? Well, it seems that BushCo is doing that to us, as if we're his kids or something. You just gotta read this to believe it.

10 Foods You Should Never Eat

Since I am always worried that the girth of my tummy may once again exceed the girth of my doorways, I continue to look for ways to stay slim (sometimes even neurotically so). If you're as interested as I in this, read about the 10 Foods You Should Never Eat.

A Fable for You

Let me tell you a story...

Once upon a time, there was a group of folk who wanted to find the best person to be the mayor of their tiny town, a small black and white town. They looked high and low for that person. They looked up and down. They looked this way and that way. Wherever they looked, they just couldn't seem to find the person they wanted to lead them.

Then one day, they heard about a fella, a tall fella, who they heard from someone would be a very good person for the job. They called him and said, "We think you would be a very good person for the job. Please come and meet with us so we can know for sure." So, the fella went to meet with them. They talked. He talked. They talked. He talked. At the end of the conversation, they liked him and he liked them. And they asked him to be their mayor.

But then something dawned on the fella. He asked them if they had spoken with the whole town about exactly what they were looking for? Surprised, the people looked at one another and discovered that no, they had not talked with anyone. They believed that what they wanted, everyone wanted.

So the fella asked if those who wanted him would ask the townsfolk what they wanted. The fella, you see, was somewhat different from other fellas and he knew it. While he was a handsome and friendly fella, he was also a very colorful fella. And knowing the town was very "black and white," he thought it best to make sure the townsfolk wouldn't mind having someone of his hue.

And lo and behold, when the few of them asked everyone else, they learned that the townfolk didn't want the fella. However, not everyone in the town thought a fella of many hues was a bad thing, especially the leader of the group that asked the fella in the first place. He and the fella thought about it together and seeing how the fella didn't want to create too much of a confusion or make the black and white town folk too nervous, the fella agreed with the townsfolk and withdrew his name from further consideration (also knowing that even if some of the townsfolk really really wanted him, the ones who didn't want him would cause a lot of unrest for everyone). When the fella told this to the leader of the group, he was sad but he understood.

And the black and white town went back looking for a leader to lead them in their tiny town of black and white townfolk. Only this time, the tiny town of black and white townfolk and those who went about looking for their new mayor all knew exactly what they were looking for.. or at least, they knew they didn't want a colorful person.

+++++
The moral to this story is that it always helps to know what you want before you go looking for it. It'll save time, energy, and whole heck of a lot of confusion.

THE END

Understanding the newspaper you are reading

1. The Wall Street Journal is read by the people who run the country.

2. The Washington Post is read by people who think they run the country.

3. The New York Times is read by people who think they should run the country, and who are very good at crosswords.

4. USA Today is read by people who think they ought to run the country but don't really understand the Washington Post. They do, however, like their statistics shown in pie charts.

5. The Los Angeles Times is read by people who wouldn't mind running the country, if they could spare the time, and if they didn't have to leave LA to do it.

6. The Boston Globe is read by people whose parents used to run the country and did a far superior job of it, thank you very much.

7. The New York Daily News is read by people who aren't too sure who's running the country, and don't really care as long as they can get a seat on the train.

8. The New York Post is read by people who don't care who's running the country, as long as they do something really scandalous, preferably while intoxicated.

9. The San Francisco Chronicle is read by people who aren't sure there is a country ... or that anyone is running it; but whoever it is, they oppose all that they stand for. There are occasional exceptions if the leaders are handicapped minority feminist atheist dwarfs, who also happen to be illegal aliens from ANY country or galaxy as long as they are Democrats.

10. The Miami Herald is read by people who are running another country but need the baseball scores.

11. The National Enquirer is read by people trapped in line at the grocery store.

Kindly Pastor or Justice Activist?

I have been thinking, which picture best captures the spirit of Pastor Bo? The old one below this post or the new one in my profile? The old one looks like the me that I want to be felt by those with whom I am called to minister and serve. You know the type, the guy you can tell your worries to, the one who sympathizes with all the crap we humans have to put up with in life.

The other pic, well, looks more like what I do when I am not pastoring. It looks like the guy who goes to the residence of an ambassador to march and protest the lack of condom distribution in some far off country. It looks like the guy who chairs several local community justice-seeking boards and committees. It looks like the guy who grabs his expresso at the local fab coffee house on his way to City Hall.

Both pictures are accurate depictions of me, just in different settings. And, as a result of those different settings, the pictures look very different.. almost as if they are two different guys both claiming to be me. You can see other pictures of me, all taken very recently (within a couple of months) and see the confusion.

So my discernment is, is this blog the place for a picture of me looking pastoral, or as I normally am, the *out* activist seeking to change the world? Hmmm.. what do you think?

This is my old blog pic, do you think I should use this one instead of what I am using now?
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Haircuts should not cost over $10...

..but that didn't change the fact that I finally went and paid an enormous price for my new doo. Truth is, my old barber moved to Staten Island (opened up his own shop) and I was left high and dry. For the last several months, I've been trying to find a new barber but each time I got my haircut, it was cut way too short. Each barber would rev up his electric trimmer and set it to a particular setting (7 I think) and in about 8 minutes of buzzing and swooshing sounds, all my hair would be on the floor and my cut would be complete. Sure, I was only paying between $10-15 but still..

So, a friend recommended his "stylist" to me who charges upwards of $44. Swallowing my pride, I went to give it a shot. After work, I went down to 14th Street in the west village to the Gina and Thomas Hair Studio. You can imagine my shock when, instead of immediately sitting down for the haircut, I was escorted over to a seat with a sink level with my neck. The haircut price includes a free hair-washing. I was a bit disappointed that a young woman was washing my hair instead of the really cute guy named Ian, who I have actually met before at an art gallery opening a few months back. However, she rubbed my head in this really relaxing kind of way, so I didn't mind (too much). ;)

Then, after my hair was washed and towel-dried, I was led to my stylist, her name is Lynn, who was definately very friendly. I was a bit disappointed that I was assigned to yet another woman in the salon (read, barber shop). However, she had that look that said, "Buddy, I am really good at what I do", so again, I didn't mind too much. (She also looked like she could take me in a fight, so I sat down right quick).

As I sat down, she draped the long plastic bib around my body. I noticed that my new expensive stylist didn't have an electric trimmer even near her. All she had in her possession was this razor like tool and a comb. The tool, is both a scizzor and a straight (no jokes please) razor. As she began, I noticed that Lynn was slicing (as well as cutting) my hair off. It was very interesting and quite different. We engaged in small talk; not too much yet also not too shallow. She asked what I did for a living and I told her I was a minister. She thought that was nice. She was curious how I knew Greg (the friend who recommended me to the salon and who is so truly fabulous, one would think immediately that he is a circuit dancing party boy instead of the vice president of marketing at Deutche Bank, which he is), as well as how I knew Affan, the image consultant at the salon (Affan is another really fab friend of mine).

So, Lynn had a few questions and seemed very interested to talk about issues of faith (she'd grown tired of the religion of her youth). I answered some questions she had about God and faith; and she seemed to appreciate it, saying that she would be very interested in coming to visit the church where I am called to serve.

We seemed to wrap up our conversation just as she was finished cutting (or slicing) my hair. Then, she rubbed some styling wax (yes, wax!) on my hair and whallah!, I had a new doo. And you know what? I really like it! I have been getting great comments on it and I am able to make it look more conservative when I have to do so, and yet, make it stick up when I am out and about. I am pretty excited even though with tip, my haircut cost me $50. I never dreamed of the day I'd pay that much. However, I guess its the cost of looking fabulous. (very big grin)

Okay, I'm hooked

Last night after the confrontation with the radio-grabber, I went out with a church member for my first-ever ballet performance at the Metropolitan Opera for a production of Swan Lake.

Oh mah gawd! It was amazing! At first, it was kind of interesting, seeing the set design and the attractive dancers in tip-top physical condition in those skin tight leotards. After that initial "Wow" feeling leaves, the performance minus the actual verbal discussion about what was going on, was spectacular. After intermission, the story-line (if you can call it that) really picked up and I found myself drawn into the show. When the young prince and princess commit suicide, I really felt it- when I saw them in the afterlife enjoying eternity together, it really was powerful!

I always wondered what the draw to ballet was; and while I always thought, in some redneck way, it was because of the almost nekkedness of the cast, I now know that it is just an added benefit of sorts ;), it's really all about the show and performance.

I am going to go back and see something else! And soon!

How Much is a Radio Worth?

You're not going to believe what I just did. So, instead of just outright telling you, I am going to draw out what happened to the point where you'll say in exhasperation, "Alright already.."

As some of you know, I work in a church basement (where my office is located). Periodically I take afternoon breaks, often to step out into the sunshine (there are no windows in my office) and go buy a candybar or some fresh fruit from the fruitstand guy. Right before leaving, I wondered if I should've locked my office but I figured I'd only be gone for a couple of minutes. Today, however, after getting some fresh strawberries, I remembered I needed some hand lotion. After I stopped off at the pharmacy, I remembered I needed to get some money out of the bank for tonight's ballet experience (it'll be my first). So, after getting some money, some strawberries and some hand lotion, I made it back to church.

I stopped off in the kitchen (which is in the basement too) to pour some sugar into a bowl (for me to dip my strawberries into). Suddenly, I hear someone running past the kitchen door. I look up and hear a person running up the stairs. I quickly stopped what I was doing and ran after the person. Looking up to the top of the stairs, I see a guy leaving through the outside door, turning left and walking out holding something. I run back to my office, remembering the door was left unlocked, and immediately saw that my portable cd player/radio was gone. Without missing a beat, I turned and ran down the hall, up the stairs and outside. Turning left, I bolted after the man. I see him up ahead and pour on the speed. When I got just 2 feet from him, my common sense finally caught up to the adrinaline pumping through my veins. That sense said, "What the HELL are you doing??!" But then, it was too late. The guy turned around.

You should've seen the look on his face. Standing about 6'2 and having a pretty solid frame, he was definately startled. He stopped where he was and held my radio to his chest. Looking him square in the eye, I said to him in a nice but very irritated way, "Would you please give me back MY radio?" He handed it over. I said, "Did you steal anything else?" He said he didn't. Then I said, like an old man complaining about the state of current affairs, "For God's sake, how on earth can you steal from a church?" Looking embarrassed, he said he was sorry, and then turned and walked away. We both knew I wasn't going to call the cops- it was almost as if a small transaction had just occurred although no money changed hands.

Walking back to the church and thinking about what happened, I wasn't as fazed as when that guy threatened to kill me a few months ago on the subway. This time, it was different. I guess I am also thinking about what Bill Cosby said this week at the 50th anniversary celebration of Brown v the Board of Education when he spoke out against families not caring for their children enough and allowing their kids to become hoodlums. The response to Cosby's critique has been explosive here in NYC. While there are some who are very supportive of his thoughts, there are others who complain that he is being hypocritical or too condescending to understand all that is involved with raising kids in impoverished neighborhoods.

Who were the people Cosby was talking about? I tell you, the young man who stole my radio seemed good natured enough- he didn't look strung out (although he might have been). He was obviously sorry for stealing my radio (when he got caught) and no physical altercation occurred when I got back my radio. Whether Cosby was talking about the hoods who kill for drugs or the good natured guys who steal for whatever reason, he was trying to address a problem he sees within the African American community. Sure, his solution might seem too broad and void of specific challenges facing uneducated and impoverished parents, still his words are a challenge to our thinking.

I know there are many challenges facing parents today, especially challenges from minority parents in impoverished areas- still, the guy did steal my radio from inside a church. What on earth was he thinking?

I told this whole story to a collegue of mine right after it happened. She works upstairs and said, "You should've locked your office. If you had, none of this would have happened." It was almost as if she was saying this was my fault from the beginning. While I do realize that I should have locked my office (we have stuff stolen all the time here), that doesn't take away from the responsibility of the guy who stole my radio. That guy wasn't someone who was incapable of NOT stealing. He wasn't some upward walking animal that performs what his instinct tells him to do. He is a human being capable of being accountable for his actions. My collegues response seems to mirror many of Cosby's critics who have grown so accustomed to the plight of the disenfranchized that we no longer hold them responsible for decency and expected right relations.

I will not lower my standards of expectations for someone who refuses to be a good, moral person. While next time I am sure to lock my office when I go out for my afternoon break, I will still think that we are all supposed to do and be better people- not just because God has equipped us for doing so, but because that is what is necessary if we are to live together as a human family.

Oh, and if you were thinking, "Why did you go after him, you could've been killed, for crying out loud!" Yeah, that thought did occur to me but only when I was too close to the guy to reason that line of thinking out. If he would've had a gun, then I prolly wouldn't be writing this now, I'd be in the emergency room saying to myself, "For God's sake, what the hell were you thinking?!"

An Interesting Read

You'll notice a new book listed on the right panel of this blog, its a book called Pomosexuals. I have actually read the book before and am needing to reread it for some professional reasons. It is a great book if you want to understand the issues of gender and the assumptions that underlie what you think you may already know.

I attended our denomination's state annual conference over the weekend and had some interesting discussions with a couple of transgender collegues. Since I am one of the coordinators for our local denomination's lgbt clergy and lay fellowship group (officially we are called this really long title: the UCC Coalition for LGBT Concerns - NY Metro Chapter). Understanding the challenges of people who wrastle (yeah, I know its spelled 'wrestle' but being an Oklahoman, we say 'wrastle') with gender issues is imperative as a Christian, if I am to be a compassionate justice-seeker to my brothers, sisters, and trans folk.

The book Pomosexuals is both informative and fun. If you haven't ever read it and want a better grasp of trans issues, check it out and let me know what you think.

When God directs our paths..

I am up to my noggin' discerning God's will and direction in my immediate future. As I listen for God's voice and look for God's finger pointing me in the direction I oughta go, I have been thinking about all the ways God has directed my paths in times past.

When I was younger, God allowed me to lay out specific fleeces and to interpret them accordingly. I used to be mighty specific and God would always (I am serious) allow this method of discernment. But then, as I grew older in my faith (I am hesitant to say "grew maturer" because I sometimes wonder exactly how mature I am in my faith), I learned that God desired that as my faith grew, the methods of my discernment needed to change.

Growing older, I found discernment through the wise and experienced people around me to helped guide me in the decision- making process (as well as laying out the occasional fleece) so that the choices I made were thought-out and understandable.

Then, in recent years, my discernment process involved a mental conversation about how I best understand where God is leading, and engaging that process to recognize the signals (and sometimes goofy signals) that helped me see how whatever decision would affect me.

Now, I find that my discernment process is changing yet again. This time around, I am interpreting all sorts of inspiration. From wise people who surround me, to mental conversations to imagining "what if" scenarios, to the occasional fleece, to remaining aware of apparent "coincidences" that happen around me as the decision deadline looms. This time around I am incorporating all signals in my spiritual lifetime to really think how these decisions will affect me.

In all of this, I have noticed a definate progression of spiritual growth and change. It is as if there has come a time when my faith must be entirely engaged to the situation and I must take full responsibility for it. A part of me misses the days of my young faith when it needed only simple direction- now is the time when God has prepared and taught me how to make complicated decisions trusting that God will lead me wherever I go.

Since I am interpreting so many different angles and experiences, please pray for me as I work out my faith and discern some really tough decisions- both personally and professionally.

In memory of Reagan, I found this old Bloom County comic to remind us of his good ol' days.
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It was a good sermon

Practically everyone enjoyed the sermon on Sunday. I had originally hoped to make it more of devotional because we had so much going on in the service, however, once I got to writing it, it kept getting longer and longer... crazy, eh?

The service itself wasn't as seemless as I had hoped. I wanted to blend a few themes into the service: Pentecost season, the Holy Spirit, and the Trinity (since it was Trinity Sunday). I prolly should have just picked one theme- if a person was paying attention to the different themes, it might have been confusing.

Anyways, it was a good service and I finished writing the sermon in time to practice it and hone it down. You can read the sermon by visiting my church website and going to the Sermons section.

You'd think I was still in grad school...

I am amazed at how adept I am at procrastination. I am preaching tomorrow and I am about 70% finished with my sermon so you'd think I would just go ahead and finish the dang thing and be done with it.

Any yet... here I sit. Earlier this morning I had a retreat to attend that lasted from about 9:30am to 2:00pm; then I rushed home to finish my sermon. I got home.. and washed the dishes.. and napped.. and cleaned my room.. and went to the cleaners.. and napped.. and updated the church website.. and read some blogs.. and talked with mom over the phone.. and on and on.. and on and on..

It's 10:00pm on a Saturday night- I could be out with my friends; I could be riding my bike; but noooooooooooooooooooo, I still have my sermon to finish- what is up with me?! Daaaaaaaaaaaaang.

Making Sense of Church

Well, I must admit, Making Sense of Church by Spencer Burke is a real eye catcher and is interesting to read. The insights from Burke are very pointed and speak very candidly about many of the troubles of modern-day church & personal spiritual growth techniques. He provides some thoughtful questions at the end of each chapter and I, on the whole, found his insights very eye-opening.

One particular downside with the book is that it is a collection of much whining.. and whining.. from various posters to The Ooze.com who are sick and tired of being sick and tired with modern-day evangelicalism. Normally I can inhale a book of this size in an afternoon; not so with this one. There were times it was so negative that I could only read a couple pages at a time before the negative energy in it forced me to stop.

I can imagine those who agree with all the criticisms of the church to say something like, "Well, it's the truth!" And, it might very well be.. but it would have been helpful to include more stories about churches and people who are making a difference in the war with modernism and unspiritual church growth strategies.

Another aspect of the book that irked me to no end was the constant use of the word "we" when referring to the troubles of church life. For instance, I would read, "The problem with the church is that we have lost focus." Okay, so maybe you have lost focus but you don't know me, you haven't met me, including 'me' in the 'we' is offensive. Maybe it's just symantics but I would have enjoyed reading more "I"s than "we"s.

Okay, so I am whining now myself. I did enjoy the book and can see myself referring back to it often for insights and whatnot. And, I am a HUGE fan of The Ooze.com. However, even on The Ooze, I have to take it in doses lest the negativity depress me. Fortunately, I've met some great people on the message boards and have enjoyed making a whole slew of new friends in and around ministry.

Maybe Burke's next book might be titled, "Getting Over It: The Way to Transform your Congregation's Attitudes without Depressing Those Who Want to Join You on the Journey."

Okay, one more post and I'll stop for the day

I have been blogging over at theOoze.com and discovered this nifty list of ways to keep alert during a boring sermon. Maybe you can add some ideas of your own- if so, please do by commenting to this post. Just so you know that I am sympathetic to "those in the pews", don't you know. (smile)

Summertime Hours

One of my most favorite things about summertime is how my body responds to it. Only in the summer (or when there is more daylight) am I able to get up at 6:00am, or like this morning, 5:00am. I love being awake so early (assuming I get to bed early enough)- I get so much more accomplished.

This morning I was able to check my email, download an update to my firewall, install an updated Adobe Acrobat reader, have coffee, post some messages on theOoze.com and generally feel better. Oh, and I had the guts to step on my weight scale- and, you're not going to believe this (or you are going to believe it and you admit that I freak out too often), I weighed 228. I dropped 6 lbs in 2 days. What is up with that?! Maybe that extra weight I picked up on vacation was lazy weight? Or, fun weight that needed time to leave..? I have no idea. I wonder if I'll be back to my 224 weight by week's end? My body is so freaky sometimes.

However, I am sure happy to be up at this hour (it's 7:25am now). I think I'll head into work early and see what I can get done.

The Rule of Four

The Rule of Four is a book I just finished (leave it to me to do more reading on Fire Island than dancing) and it was really good. If you like those Emberto Eco style books that have a plot surrounding archaic discoveries then you'll enjoy this book about a couple of college seniors who interpret the hidden meanings in a 500 year old manuscript.

One thing I enjoyed about the book is how the writers weaved into the story a 'coming of age' theme about love and relationships while going about solving the secret to the manuscript. It was filled with heart-warming wisdom although in the end, rather than the boy getting the girl, the boy decides the girl isn't what matters to what he thought he wanted all along.

My next Eco-like book is going to be The Eight by Katherine Neville. I hear this is supposed to be a great read. Have your read it? If so, drop me a note and let me know how you liked it.

The Price of Fun

You're just not going to believe this!! I was away for 4 days during the holiday and gained 10 pounds! I didn't even think this was possible! I stepped on the scale last night and it complete horror, I weighed 234 lbs.

Last week, you have to understand the whole picture, I had my annual physical and my doctor said, "Bo, you're in the best shape I've ever seen you." I told him how I eat sensibly and exercise like a fiend and finally enjoy looking and feeling great. My doctor had me get on the scales and, watching his reaction with glee, I weighed 224 although earlier that week I weighed 222. My goal is to get down to 218 and I was all excited that I was almost there. My doctor congratulated me and I was beaming!

And then.. then I went to Fire Island.

Fire Island is a resort community (of sorts). Divided into different sections (some for families, others for various relaxers and party-goers), I stayed on part of the island for fabulous men who gather during the summer every weekend to relax, dance, and have the time of their (our) lives. On the island, there are a bajillion fancy beach houses surrounded by miles of boardwalk (no cars are allowed on the island thus, no streets, just boardwalks). In each beach house, there are between 8-10 people (usually friends) who rent a beachhouse every summer. Several of the regular summer renters are friends of mine who invited me out for the weekend.

This year, like last year (my friends invited me out last year too), I went to bed early and awoke early, tanned often, and read books (taking periodic naps throughout the afternoon). In the evening, I danced and mingled (in a good way), sipped cocktails and enjoyed all the relaxing fun that a vacation is meant to encourage.

In our house, one of the housemates is a bona fide chef. He is amazing. His name is Tony and every meal was like dining in heaven. And, since there isn't a place to exercise or workout, and since all our evening meals were eaten after 'high tea' (around 10:30pm!!), what you eat stays on you. Most of my friends would go out after dinner to dance the night way- except, I didn't go out, I went to bed.

It'll take me a month to get this weight off of me (grrrrrrrrrrr!!)-but then, I did have an amazingly wonderful time. I wonder if this is the price I pay for such a vacation? I know there is a lesson to be gleaned in all this and I am sure you can think of some nifty Aesop-like fable to make this point even more true; while you're doing that, I am going for a bike ride- maybe I can lose a pound today.