Nazarene Theological Seminary

 The classroom setting can be a difficult and awkward place to preach. For starters, your "congregation" are students eager to critique your every move and take notice at each misspoken word. At the front of the room rests the perched hawk (read: professor) in all of her wisdom waiting to prey on the vulnerable. Actually, the scene is not this dramatic but often it is hard not to feel this way.  Preparing a "word of the Lord" is hard in a context that is designated for critique, dissection, and academic learning. How do you preach to preachers? 

I had the chance to preach this last week in my class on narrative preaching. I found, to my surprise, that the experience was quite delightful. The professor, R. Grace Imathiu is a UMC pastor in Milwaukee, WI and a highly sought renowned preacher. Grace was incredibly insightful and her lectures on preaching in narrative were beyond helpful. Preaching with Grace in the room was not as intimidating as I thought it might be. She listened well and was helpful in her suggestions, namely, that I cut my sermon by 3 minuets to trim to the froth (my sermon was only 11 min. long).  The class was very encouraging and not nearly as cynical as I thought they would be. Actually, they were critical and I found for the first time that I appreciated this time as much as preaching in front of a "regular" congregation.

The classroom setting allowed for the class to engage the preacher in a way that a congregation can't. In the classroom the preacher is vulnerable to and should be open to suggestions on delivery, method, and theology. In this context the classroom serves as a lab where in the congregation the lab process should have already happened before you reach the pulpit. I am learning that as a preacher, I should not rely on the congregation to critique and advise my sermons. I am open to their suggestions and feedback but the sermon in the congregation is the Word of the Lord and it is different than being in a "lab". 

Preaching in class has taught me to appreciate both the lab and the sanctuary.

I am a good story teller.

I always have been.  My brother is the writer but I am the teller.  I can tell stories about my life, the life of God, the life of your mommas God, the life of your mommas mommas God.  simply put, I can tell stories because I am good at it.

I am not good at living in a story.

Often, I am an unfaithful, wandering, selfish character trying to escape the direction of the plot.  Telling Stories are easier because I can control the direction.  I can decide what rhetorial device I will use and control voice inflection.  But living in a story requires knowledge, obedience, and surrender to direction.

My life is not only recounting and re-telling the events that are easy to talk about but living faithfully into the narrative that I have been called.

This is not as easy, in fact, it's a struggle.

Change.

The general election on Tuesday Nov., 4^th represents more than a change in guard for the Presidential administration. There is more at stake under the moniker of change than the elected alone, skin color alone or, even, political party alone. At the core of what changed on Tuesday was the identification and philosophy of the electorate. This change goes beyond whom they decided to vote for to why they decided to vote.  The change that is represented in a new era for the United States of America is embodied in a people who have felt disorganized, marginalized, and ignored.

 Change is seen in the largest voter turnout in history. You see change when a world stops and listens. Change is in the Latino who is convinced there is purpose or the person of color who sees more than a politician but a brother. Change happens when a generation senses identity.

For too long we have waited our turn, accepted the kool-aid and kept our mouths shut.  This country is no longer represented by those who told us we weren’t old enough, or smart enough, or rich enough, or Christian enough, or white enough. It is possible that this election is a swing in the opposite extreme but undoubtedly it is a voice, a large voice, represented by the minority, the young and the eager saying that enough is enough.  We will speak to be heard, we will vote to be represented, we will hope for change.  What I recognize as change is not exclusively personified in Barack Obama. The change we experienced in this election season is represented in those who decided to show up, speak up, and be heard.  

The implications for the church are enormous. There is also a voice within its core that has been pushed to the side, brushed under the rug and kept quiet for far too long. Speak up voiceless generation. Show up young ones and old ones. Rise up minority and majority.  The time is ripe for new leadership and for new direction.  Tuesday Nov. 4^th will go down as a paramount shift in who gets to lead in a country that has monopolized the wealth of decisions for too long but some day soon the time will also come for the church.

I received the chance to travel to Michigan over the weekend and be part of a wonderful youth retreat. For several years this local church community has hosted an intensive retreat that focused on discipleship. This year they invited me to join them and speak on discipleship. I am not the best candidate but I was able to share a short period of time in the subject. 

It is my conviction that discipleship is more of a lesson in shared responsibility than it is a top-down authoritative subject. At a certain point in the retreat (I think it was Saturday night) I emphatically shared that as a traveling speaker I do not come to impart truth and wisdom as if I am the ultimate source rather, I come to live and seek truth within a community. I come to join hands in pointing in a direction.  Together, as minister and congregation we formed a larger body of faith seeking the truths of the Kingdom. No one person or group was the authority over the other.

  Together, we became breaths of life for each other going towards a particular direction in faith. The biggest lesson that I learned this weekend was that discipleshipcouldn’t be separated from the larger body regardless of the context that the larger body is joined. The weekend was a blessing and it is my hope that I am always as much of a student as I am a teacher.

(IMPORTANT: This post contains spoilers. If you have not seen “Lars and The Real Girl” I highly suggest watching it. J)

Last night my girlfriend and I watched “Lars and the Real Girl”. Whatever happened, I wasn’t expecting it. It is a difficult task, when you have direct contact with beauty, to articulate that experience into words. Last night was such an experience.

The story is an amazing journey through brokenness, depression and healing. Lars is a young functional professional who has severe social issues. These issues stem from losing his mother at a young age and being raised by an emotionally absent father. Lars lives in the garage behind his deceased parents home where his brother and sister in law now live. Efforts of communication between Lars and his family are broken. In fact, this is a very early theme that is developed.  Lars doesn’t communicate well with anything. Whatever it is that eats away at Lars it does not allow him to participate with reality. That is, until Lars makes friends with a plastic doll manufactured in a factory somewhere in San Diego and dropped off in a box at his “home.”

Lars’ doll, Bianca, is his girlfriend from South America whose story sounds shockingly real.  Lars escorts Bianca wherever he goes.  In church you see them singing together well, that is, you see Lars signing and Bianca’s plastic hands holding a red hymnal. At the house the “couple” enjoys breakfast with Lars’ brother and sister-in-law.  They even go on dates out to his childhood play place. There isn’t any sexual activity between Lars’ and his girlfriend - just a relationship. Reality, for Lars, has been stripped away, rotted, and left empty.  With Bianca, Lars can participate with the real world again.  He talks to his family, happy at work, and very active.  The conflict in the film is not so much that Lars has a relationship with a novelty doll but how his community and family handle this relationship.

At first there is great reluctance.  The brother wants to fix Lars, to identify what is causing the symptoms find the remedy and apply the solution.  The church wants to ban Bianca from church attendance and to ignore the fact Lars is in a make believe relationship.  In a turn of events however, Lars’ friends and community realize that to love Lars would necessitate their love of Bianca. Whatever it is that is encouraging Lars’ replacement of reality with the fake won’t be healed without unconditional love.  From this point on the story of love and acceptance unfolds for Lars and for that matter Bianca. Before long the community finds that their lives are also heavily involved in a fake plastic doll. The love for Lars has driven his community to adopt her as a social reality. They take her to the school so she can “read” to children, give her haircuts and take her shopping. Eventually, the church will hold her funeral and the old ladies will show up at the house to mourn with Lars. Ultimately, because of the love and patience given by the community Lars finds his way back to normal social behavior. The community helps Lars mourn, heal and recover.  What they are mourning is not the made-up death of a fake existence but whatever died inside of Lars and trapped him from existence.  This story is about life, hope and love which is realized through a patient, accepting community.

Undoubtedly, I have left out a large portion of the story’s development and key aspects. I wasn’t trying to recap the movie or even offer a generalized summery of it. I was just trying to respond to beauty. If you have seen the move what was your response to it? 

The sign read, “Youth Front Camp South” and it took an hour or so to finally arrive there. In the parking lot we encountered the typical over stuffed church van with suitcases that weighed more than the person carrying it. However, there was something different about this camp that wasn’t so typical. Down in the lake there was a blob but if you went into one of the open fields you would find the ATV’s and if you crossed the road you could play the disc golf courses (i.e. the third best sport to table tennis and BASEBALL).   If that wasn’t enough you could take out your aggression through paint ball or express your adventurous side through the massive water slide or the million other things to do but, there was more.

Each day started in a corporate morning prayer acknowledging God’s grace present in every moment.  Then, we had breakfast together followed by a morning story. After the story we had group time in which we reflected on what the week was teaching us.  We would head up to the tabernacle after group time where we would have afternoon prayer, centering our priorities on why we had gathered, to grow and give glory to God.  In the evenings the camp provided experiences for the students to feel with their senses what the camp was trying to teach. It seemed that every moment had a purpose and each minute was intentional.  There was something deeper that Youth Front was trying to teach.

 By the end of the week what was unique was more than just the fun events or even the worship times, it was the order in which we construct our time. We were learning that there is acertain rhythm that Christians follow, an alternative dance to a song being sung over us. We wake up and give thanks, we eat and share our life, we encourage one another, we worship as a body, we experience with each other and we grow together.  This rhythm was more than just a beat waiting to fade after a weekit was an alternative to living a life in a vacuum or in a machine.  If anything I learned that this camp wasn’t about the event, it was about the rhythm. Learning this rhythm is like planting a seed that takes years to grow but if you care after it, it will blossom into something beautiful.  What happened at Youth Front South was more than just one good sermon or a host of fun events it was learning how to be Christian in a world that has abused the discipline.

These past few months I have traveled as a summer camp youth speaker spanning anywhere from Oklahoma to Pennsylvania.  I have met the coolest people, been exposed to some crazy events, and fell in love with hundreds of teenagers.  As a way of going forward into a new semester I want to appreciate in reflection what just happened.  As an attempt to avoid from writing too much I will be making a few posts as I share stories from my summer. To begin, I recall meeting a really cool kid in Butler, PA.

His appearance was very intimidating.  He towered over everyone at 6’6” and 250+ pounds. I remember observing this behemoth of a man with an assuming eye. Someone of that stature had to be a bully.  However, in a remarkable moment on Friday night the campers were huddled around a bonfire and students began to share significant moments from the past week.  There were comments about spiritual “break throughs”, special counselors and, the bizarre games we played. Then, off in the corner, came a comment about that really tall bully looking kid and then another and another and another. 

By the time the bonfire was over there were more than a handful of students that shared their appreciation in the spiritual guidance and encouragement that this student had given to them.  Not just the speaker, or the band, or the counselors but a student, a peer and the most intimidating looking one at that. It was a testimony to how we are to look out for and care for one another.  Sure, I was the speaker that week and I poured my soul and energy into each service but some of the most honest connections these students made came through this really big kid who befriended everyone.