Interlude Questions Matter

In a recent blog, Rob (Loane) talked to us about connecting the “answers” with questions. For many years, my work put a grant in our hands that allowed us to develop campus ministry leaders in two ways: leadership practices and spirituality. As a group, we loved times for “shop talk,” when we opened the floor for new ideas, innovations, and methods for spiritual formation on college campuses. The ideas would flow, copious notes would be taken, and many of us returned home with a “plug and play” mentality about what we heard from our peers.  

 

Over time, however, we needed to remember that best practices are “answers” or “responses” to questions that emerged out of local issues, contextual problems, or partial “solutions” in vivo, that is, in life lived on a campus in Indiana, upstate New York, urban LA or Minneapolis, small town Kentucky or metropolitan Dallas. We discovered that “answers” in the form of new programs or practices are not universal but specific to place, setting, staffing, ecclesial identity, and practical movements in the story of the ministry itself.  

 

A new campus pastor might bring something new to the table that a long-time pastor might have tried years before. A large staff team might initiate multiple complex plans that a campus pastor with a part-time assistant could not. Once again, questions matter.

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When autocorrect got theology right

The calls started coming about a month ago. “Jerry is having trouble breathing; they’ve taken him to the hospital for oxygen.”  Jerry is my older brother. During the late stages of pregnancy, my mother experienced complications that caused the loss of oxygen flow to his brain, resulting in life-altering mental capacities for him. He was what we might call today “mentally challenged,” what people cruelly called then “retarded.” He was, in other words, a survivor of a birth-related brain injury.

In truth, his abilities were challenged, causing him to be placed in the “special” class and mainstreamed in public education in suburban Chicago. It was a class comprised of many people with various forms of disability, only to be ridiculed because they might not be articulate in speech, might laugh at the wrong time, be unable to complete sentences, drool, or have bodies with spastic motions at unexpected moments. Because they were “special,” they were often treated badly on the playground, in the hallways, or just walking with us through town; mothers even “protected” their own children when they saw Jerry and me walking the sidewalks. More than once I even told mothers to “shut up,” as they called him “retard.” “Shut up” was a phrase not allowed in our family home.

Jerry was a special needs child. His life changed within only a few months of what appeared to be an otherwise normal pregnancy. Until age 16, he was in the public school system, but nothing was offered beyond that age. Eventually, he moved to a group facility in southern Illinois where he lived just short of 50 years. Read More

Little Walker’s trip to the boardwalk

A story

Little Walker’s favorite place in the world is the boardwalk in Ocean City, New Jersey. If you have ever been to this boardwalk in the summer, you know the extent of the crowds of people – it is exhilarating. For five-year-old Little Walker, with amusement rides and snacks and so many people, a night spent on the boardwalk was his most favorite thing to do. All day long, he told everyone he encountered, “I am going to the boardwalk tonight!” So when dinner was done, and the dishes were all washed and dried, he headed up to “the boards” with his parents and little sister, his aunt and uncle. Little Walker could barely contain himself as he entered the scene: Ferris wheels and boogie boards and flashing billboards, skateboards and strollers, Steel’s fudge and Mack & Manco’s pizza and Shriver’s saltwater taffy, the sounds of the Atlantic Ocean in the background, and wave upon wave upon wave of people. Absolutely wonderful!

But when he smelled that smell–hot caramel popcorn!–and spotted the Johnson Caramel Popcorn shop (his dad’s favorite place on the boardwalk), and excitedly looked back for his dad, but could not find him or anyone else in his family, the whole scene turned on Little Walker. The lights, the noises, the smells, and the faces all began to press in upon him and terrify him. The excitement was gone. Little Walker was lost.  Read More

Peace Like a River

Wendy and I found ourselves in a VRBO on Penn Cove in the middle of Whidbey Island. We were wrestling with our future: Where shall we go? Should we make a move back to Washington State? There was uncertainty, sprinkled with more than a little anxiety. 

One evening, as we listened to music, a sea otter showed off its athletic prowess just north of our deck. A song began to play: “It Is Well,” sung by Kristene DiMarco. A version based on a hymn written in 1873. 

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A Pool of Tears

Since COVID, we have known heartbreak, loss, and grief.

We lost our niece Katie to fentanyl. We placed my older brother in hospice care. We sat with friends considering divorce. We grieved alongside others through painful losses of family members and dear friends. We have walked in the darkness.

St. John of the Cross gave us the often-quoted phrase “the dark night of the soul.” His message was clear: we often encounter God in the shadows—in seasons of heartache and heartbreak.

For mentors and mentees alike, that may come as a surprise.

The work of spiritual mentoring embraces our whole story, not just the beautiful sunrise and sunset moments. God meets us in places of sorrow: in Mary Magdalene’s tears beside Jesus’ tomb, in the “valley of the shadow of death” of Psalm 23, and in our groaning as we await redemption (Romans 8). Read More

Growing into my questions…

“Tell me your story”

I recall sharing my life story with a very wise man one afternoon in my mid-twenties. After I rambled for 20 minutes or so, trying to capture the sense and thrust of my unique story,  he responded.  A few affirmations, observations, and even a challenge or two. His first noticing still lingers with me today.

“Rob, it seems like growing up you knew all ‘the answers’ before you knew what ‘your questions’ were. I bet that is very confusing for you.”

I had never thought about it quite that way before, but his words deeply resonated with me.

He paused for a moment and then continued, “I suspect your growing up into Christ is going to look a lot like growing into your questions… and then bumping into the Spirit and his kindness already there ahead of you, amidst the questions of your life.”

30 years later, this framework has yet to disappoint as a way to see God’s formation in my life. This “growing into my questions” has often been the way the Spirit has graciously met me along the way. Read More

The Marks of Faithful Leadership

I love the presidential portrait museum in Washington, DC. One gets to stand, literally face to face, with the all-male cast of characters who once occupied the highest office in the land. Being a history major has its drawbacks. Too many stories of these presidents’ foibles, failures, moral compromises, and sometimes unethical behavior make it difficult to believe the myths we tell about their noble character, wise leadership, and courage. They were, after all, deeply human. On one visit, Wendy took my picture next to the portrait of the president she thinks I most resemble—the 38th president, Gerald Ford.

 

John F. Kennedy’s book Profiles in Courage describes eight U.S. senators he considered to be people of bravery and integrity. We hope for such qualities in those who lead us. Yet over time, we learn to distinguish between a leader’s public image and the deeper reality of their life.

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Known Inside and Out

“God has crafted our character and given us a role that will reveal something about God that no one else’s story can reveal in quite the same way.”1 So says my colleague, Dr. Dan Allender of The Allender Center.

It turns out that God not only reveals himself to us but also reveals himself through us to others. Does that surprise you?

Like every person, you have been given a song that only you can sing. Read More

Did Jesus practice work-life balance?

Jesus should have written a book about work-life balance. He didn’t, but he practiced something like it. The Gospels describe his pattern of movement, beginning with his baptism by John.

  • He knew who he was because he listened to God tell him, “You are my Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
  • From that identity, he moved into a busy ministry of teaching, preaching, healing, and confronting evil.
  • And he went off to “lonely places” to pray in solitude.

Spiritually, Jesus seemed to see identity, belonging, learning, worship, and rest as deeply interconnected. Teilhard de Chardin once said, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience.”1 If he is onto something, we have been given a caution: do not overspiritualize spirituality. Eugene Peterson also cautioned us to remember that spirituality is primarily about life, life, and more life. Read More

What Ariat Accidentally Preached

I’m watching an NFL game—Rams versus 49ers—and I find myself rooting hard for San Francisco. I need them to win. They don’t.

As the fourth quarter unfolds and the tension builds, a commercial comes on that nearly knocks me off my seat. The 49ers quarterback is shown walking up a hill, and then these words are heard: Don’t let the world tell you who you are.

It turns out to be an ad for Ariat boots and clothing. I wear Ariat boots. I’m not a cowboy, but I do know great quality when I try it on. And yes—you’re 100% correct—I look good in those boots.

Little did I expect to hear a national company sound like the Apostle Paul in an ad for western wear, but there it was:

Don’t let the world tell you who you are.

Yet Christianity has always offered something more complicated than rugged individualism. Scripture does not deny individuality, but it refuses to make the self the center of identity. Read More