I was somewhat surprise when an online friend told me I'd been "noticed" by another blogger. I read this blog and enjoy it (be warned it is iconoclastic and occasionally profane. It is also funny and informative. Don't say I didn't warn you). It's written by an Anglican priest in Jolly Old who goes by the name Mad Priest. Don't think American "mad" (angry) but more English "mad" (demented and looney, as in Hatter). He can get good old fashioned American PO-ed too. But I'm quite happy that he's added me to his list of "idiots". Check him out at "Of course, I could be wrong..."
And yes, isn't it a great photo of me? Gotta get a better one up.
Peace
Friday, October 20, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Many of me!
Another fun thing. The only problem is this time it's absolutely WRONG!!!
On days when you're really bored try googling your own name. I have a brother who keeps track of his two brothers by periodically googling our names. Which is how we found out our third brother was running for statewide office in his home state! Anyway I googled myself after I took the quiz and came up with at least TWO other Jay Phillippis (spelled the same way) very quickly. Check the story below:
Stolen police car
The REALLY funny part of this? The date of the story is my birthday!
So to all the Jay Phillippis of the world, rejoice! We are a rare and special breed.
Peace
On days when you're really bored try googling your own name. I have a brother who keeps track of his two brothers by periodically googling our names. Which is how we found out our third brother was running for statewide office in his home state! Anyway I googled myself after I took the quiz and came up with at least TWO other Jay Phillippis (spelled the same way) very quickly. Check the story below:
Stolen police car
The REALLY funny part of this? The date of the story is my birthday!
So to all the Jay Phillippis of the world, rejoice! We are a rare and special breed.
Peace
Monday, October 16, 2006
Biggest WINNER - Matthew McNutt
This is Matthew McNutt (yes, that's really his name. Don't being makin' fun cause Matthew is a BIG boy!) Matthew is someone I've met online and once in person. He's a fellow youth minister (in Maine) and is one of the contestants on "Biggest Loser". You won't see him on "the ranch" on TV cause he's doing his thing competing at home. In four weeks he lost 51 pounds. At home. On his own. The two little guys are his sons.
If I could lose 51 pounds I could probably go off my high blood pressure medicine (maybe) and I wouldn't ever hear the doctor talk to me about being overweight or obese. I'd look better. Feel better. Live longer.
Matthew is my hero and I'm going to try and figure out how to lose that weight too. In the meantime I'm rooting for Matthew to win it all (he still can)
Peace
Saturday, October 14, 2006
That was some storm!
By now you've probably heard about the storm that rampaged through western NY on Thursday and Friday. If not here's a bit from the Buffalo News:
The Columbus Day storm dumped nearly 2 feet of snow, the sixth-biggest snowfall ever in a 24-hour period, and forced the closings of schools, businesses and a 105-mile stretch of the New York State Thruway from Rochester to Dunkirk. (Don't know how long the story will be there but the link to the full coverage is in the title of this entry)
For the record, if you live here in WNY you're accustomed to snow. LOTS of snow. But this was completely out of the norm. I believe I heard that the next closest day for snow fall in October is 6 inches. This was the kind of thing we sometimes see in January or February.
My lady wife and I found ourselves caught in the storm. We were driving from north of Buffalo (where my daughter attends college) to south of Buffalo (where we live). The drive normally takes two hours.
It took four.
Three hours of creeping along, with visibility very low. Roads not only covered in inches of snow but the temperature dropped quickly enough that ruts had developed. Trucks and cars off the side of the road. Tree limbs down. At one point we had tried a different route hoping to get us either through the storm area or to somewhere we could stop for the night. Our first choice for stopping was part of the blackout area. No luck. So we had to kind of loop our way back since turning around was very difficult. (Try turning around when you can't see the driveways or side streets because of snow on the ground, snow in the air and no street lights. We got caught on a looooong hill and ended up backtracking about 5 miles at one point) I got out to 1)clear the headlights, and 2) try and figure out what the problem was with traffic at this point, when I heard a cracking near me and had a branch fall about ten feet away. It was scary enough by itself and a little more so when I heard one of the three deaths related to the storm was a man dying when struck by a falling branch.
In the end we decided to simply gird our loins and do the best we could hoping that the storm would have an edge to the south. We found it about 15 minutes later and cruised home on clear and then dry roads. Here, well south of Buffalo, we actually got no snow at all from the storm.
We left the college at 11 PM and arrived home at 3:05 AM. It's one of the worst sets of driving conditions I've ever gone through. Thanks to God, my father for teaching me how to drive, my mom for buying a four wheel drive SUV that I now drive, and my lady wife for being a calm presence by my side.
It's good to be home.
Peace
PS (Added Monday October 16)Yesterday we cancelled our diocesan youth commission meeting because large parts of the city of Buffalo and surrounding areas were still without power and some travel restrictions remain. Most schools in the area are closed today, some tomorrow and several of the largest suburban school districts have closed FOR THE WEEK! Meanwhile an hour and a half to the south there's no snow on the ground and life goes on as normal.
The Columbus Day storm dumped nearly 2 feet of snow, the sixth-biggest snowfall ever in a 24-hour period, and forced the closings of schools, businesses and a 105-mile stretch of the New York State Thruway from Rochester to Dunkirk. (Don't know how long the story will be there but the link to the full coverage is in the title of this entry)
For the record, if you live here in WNY you're accustomed to snow. LOTS of snow. But this was completely out of the norm. I believe I heard that the next closest day for snow fall in October is 6 inches. This was the kind of thing we sometimes see in January or February.
My lady wife and I found ourselves caught in the storm. We were driving from north of Buffalo (where my daughter attends college) to south of Buffalo (where we live). The drive normally takes two hours.
It took four.
Three hours of creeping along, with visibility very low. Roads not only covered in inches of snow but the temperature dropped quickly enough that ruts had developed. Trucks and cars off the side of the road. Tree limbs down. At one point we had tried a different route hoping to get us either through the storm area or to somewhere we could stop for the night. Our first choice for stopping was part of the blackout area. No luck. So we had to kind of loop our way back since turning around was very difficult. (Try turning around when you can't see the driveways or side streets because of snow on the ground, snow in the air and no street lights. We got caught on a looooong hill and ended up backtracking about 5 miles at one point) I got out to 1)clear the headlights, and 2) try and figure out what the problem was with traffic at this point, when I heard a cracking near me and had a branch fall about ten feet away. It was scary enough by itself and a little more so when I heard one of the three deaths related to the storm was a man dying when struck by a falling branch.
In the end we decided to simply gird our loins and do the best we could hoping that the storm would have an edge to the south. We found it about 15 minutes later and cruised home on clear and then dry roads. Here, well south of Buffalo, we actually got no snow at all from the storm.
We left the college at 11 PM and arrived home at 3:05 AM. It's one of the worst sets of driving conditions I've ever gone through. Thanks to God, my father for teaching me how to drive, my mom for buying a four wheel drive SUV that I now drive, and my lady wife for being a calm presence by my side.
It's good to be home.
Peace
PS (Added Monday October 16)Yesterday we cancelled our diocesan youth commission meeting because large parts of the city of Buffalo and surrounding areas were still without power and some travel restrictions remain. Most schools in the area are closed today, some tomorrow and several of the largest suburban school districts have closed FOR THE WEEK! Meanwhile an hour and a half to the south there's no snow on the ground and life goes on as normal.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
The never ending struggle
I don't know if anyone else has to do this, but periodically I simply have to stop everything else I'm doing to organize. My life seems to be a head long rush from one project to the next with little time to assess, to reflect, or to put anything away.
Over the years I've come to the realization that this surge and rest process isn't very effective. A couple years back I shared with a youth group the story of a piece of paper that sat on my desk for over a year. On it I had written a phrase. I know what happened. I was surging along when this phrase leapt into my mind. It summed up all the concepts that I'd been juggling, I had a great idea on how to build a lesson, a column or a sermon on that single phrase. It was going to be BRILLIANT!!
I had to write it down before I forgot it! Once it was immortalized on paper I could then put it on hold till the latest surge was over. But the surge lasted a long time, and the scrap got buried under a pile of other stuff. When I finally brought it back to light all that was left was the phrase. I didn't remember what it referred to any more. The brilliance that it had focused was gone.
I kept that paper for many months afterwards. Hoping that perhaps, under just the right circumstances, the veil would part and I would catch just of glimpse of what I had seen before. From that I could try to re-build the thoughts. The glimpse never came. Finally I threw the paper away because there were just too many other scraps and sheets and pages of thoughts and ideas that had built up behind it. I still feel sad about that scrap of paper and thought. I've repeated the process several times more since then, but it's that one that still stands as the symbol for lost inspiration to me.
Today I'm surrounded again by a desk awash with papers. Some are notes from meetings from as long as a year and a half ago. Forms, reminders, business cards, notes for letters I meant to write, requests that need to be processed, projects on seemingly perpetual hold. I'm almost afraid to sift through the piles. The fear lurks that I'll find another paper with another amputated phrase on it.
What I'm really searching for is balance. Balance between the necessary and the numinous. I have been a creative person all my life. Photography, writing, acting, my work as a radio personality, all are about creating for me. These piles on this desk are equal parts that which must be done and that which I am called to do. For me to reach (or at least reach towards) those goals I must stop setting things aside for some day. But how do I work on the necessary and still honor the revelation of the numinous? Inspiration can be a fragile gift with a short life span. I can not simply say "Well now is the scheduled time to be creative. Let inspiration flow!"
On the other hand am I prepared to bury more inspirations that have withered before their time?
Meanwhile the piles grow higher and some inspiration begins to fade buried deep within.
Peace
Over the years I've come to the realization that this surge and rest process isn't very effective. A couple years back I shared with a youth group the story of a piece of paper that sat on my desk for over a year. On it I had written a phrase. I know what happened. I was surging along when this phrase leapt into my mind. It summed up all the concepts that I'd been juggling, I had a great idea on how to build a lesson, a column or a sermon on that single phrase. It was going to be BRILLIANT!!
I had to write it down before I forgot it! Once it was immortalized on paper I could then put it on hold till the latest surge was over. But the surge lasted a long time, and the scrap got buried under a pile of other stuff. When I finally brought it back to light all that was left was the phrase. I didn't remember what it referred to any more. The brilliance that it had focused was gone.
I kept that paper for many months afterwards. Hoping that perhaps, under just the right circumstances, the veil would part and I would catch just of glimpse of what I had seen before. From that I could try to re-build the thoughts. The glimpse never came. Finally I threw the paper away because there were just too many other scraps and sheets and pages of thoughts and ideas that had built up behind it. I still feel sad about that scrap of paper and thought. I've repeated the process several times more since then, but it's that one that still stands as the symbol for lost inspiration to me.
Today I'm surrounded again by a desk awash with papers. Some are notes from meetings from as long as a year and a half ago. Forms, reminders, business cards, notes for letters I meant to write, requests that need to be processed, projects on seemingly perpetual hold. I'm almost afraid to sift through the piles. The fear lurks that I'll find another paper with another amputated phrase on it.
What I'm really searching for is balance. Balance between the necessary and the numinous. I have been a creative person all my life. Photography, writing, acting, my work as a radio personality, all are about creating for me. These piles on this desk are equal parts that which must be done and that which I am called to do. For me to reach (or at least reach towards) those goals I must stop setting things aside for some day. But how do I work on the necessary and still honor the revelation of the numinous? Inspiration can be a fragile gift with a short life span. I can not simply say "Well now is the scheduled time to be creative. Let inspiration flow!"
On the other hand am I prepared to bury more inspirations that have withered before their time?
Meanwhile the piles grow higher and some inspiration begins to fade buried deep within.
Peace
Thursday, October 05, 2006
A minor correction
A sign of how scattered my brain is, I just realized that I had posted my column for this month, twice! And hadn't noticed till just now. So I fixed it. Which means I have even fewer posts than before.
ah such is life.
Peace
ah such is life.
Peace
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Enough already!
That's about how I feel these days. It has been an incredibly busy year so far. In fact let me review:
About a year ago my mom had a massive stroke and eventually died.
My wife has had BOTH hips replaced (totally new bionic hip joints)
I attended my denominations General Convention. An event both exhilarating and difficult.
I had a full summer of camp activities, including my LEAST favorite, canceling a camp.
My only child has gone off to her first year at college (where's she's doing very well!)
I just gave up a position that I loved, that I was good at and that I didn't want to give up.
We've just moved into a new house.
As a friend of mine pointed out all I need is divorce and bankruptcy and I will have covered most of the major life stress events all in 365 days. (While divorce isn't even on the horizon, every time I see the college bills I wonder about bankruptcy)
I'm feeling scattered, and put upon and like shouting "Enough already!" at whoever is listening. I spent the last three days trying to find my cell phone. We had a bunch of our friends come over to help with the big move and they were like a whirlwind! The problem is that we're not quite sure where everything is at the moment! (Sure you do big fella. It's in one of the hundred or so boxes stacked all over your house!)
So what do I do? There are days when I feel like packing it in, digging a hole and pulling it in on top of me.
Then I think:
You have really cool friends who gave up a Saturday morning to move some very heavy stuff for you for no reason other than they like you.
You're living in the nicest house you've had since you lived with your parents.
You're married to an absolutely amazing woman with only one flaw. The complete lack of judgment that makes her love you.
You're doing work that you mostly love (yes, there are parts of youth ministry I don't like. There are parts I'm no damn good at in fact)and that you know you're making a difference.
You're in the best place you've ever been in so many ways.
The only way to screw it up? If you decide to host a pity party for yourself and then attend it. Life is hard, sometimes very damn hard. I'm praying for someone right now who is probably twice the youth minister that I am who has been out of work for a while and is hoping that this interview is the one that brings him back.
It's not so much that I need a kick in the butt (though there are days...) as that I need to remember that God has my back and holds me in his arms.
Enough already. I have work to do.
Peace
About a year ago my mom had a massive stroke and eventually died.
My wife has had BOTH hips replaced (totally new bionic hip joints)
I attended my denominations General Convention. An event both exhilarating and difficult.
I had a full summer of camp activities, including my LEAST favorite, canceling a camp.
My only child has gone off to her first year at college (where's she's doing very well!)
I just gave up a position that I loved, that I was good at and that I didn't want to give up.
We've just moved into a new house.
As a friend of mine pointed out all I need is divorce and bankruptcy and I will have covered most of the major life stress events all in 365 days. (While divorce isn't even on the horizon, every time I see the college bills I wonder about bankruptcy)
I'm feeling scattered, and put upon and like shouting "Enough already!" at whoever is listening. I spent the last three days trying to find my cell phone. We had a bunch of our friends come over to help with the big move and they were like a whirlwind! The problem is that we're not quite sure where everything is at the moment! (Sure you do big fella. It's in one of the hundred or so boxes stacked all over your house!)
So what do I do? There are days when I feel like packing it in, digging a hole and pulling it in on top of me.
Then I think:
You have really cool friends who gave up a Saturday morning to move some very heavy stuff for you for no reason other than they like you.
You're living in the nicest house you've had since you lived with your parents.
You're married to an absolutely amazing woman with only one flaw. The complete lack of judgment that makes her love you.
You're doing work that you mostly love (yes, there are parts of youth ministry I don't like. There are parts I'm no damn good at in fact)and that you know you're making a difference.
You're in the best place you've ever been in so many ways.
The only way to screw it up? If you decide to host a pity party for yourself and then attend it. Life is hard, sometimes very damn hard. I'm praying for someone right now who is probably twice the youth minister that I am who has been out of work for a while and is hoping that this interview is the one that brings him back.
It's not so much that I need a kick in the butt (though there are days...) as that I need to remember that God has my back and holds me in his arms.
Enough already. I have work to do.
Peace
Monday, October 02, 2006
I swear this is the last one
This is all Gman's fault. It's what I get for reading his (excellent) blog. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I promise a real blog entry soon, maybe even today.
For the record I hate Dr. Pepper but my wife loves it. So this means I probably have issues. Like THAT would come as a surprise to anyone who knows me.
Oh, and it's POP, people. Not SODA! It's POP!
Peace
For the record I hate Dr. Pepper but my wife loves it. So this means I probably have issues. Like THAT would come as a surprise to anyone who knows me.
Oh, and it's POP, people. Not SODA! It's POP!
Peace
| You Are Dr. Pepper |
 You're very unique and funky, yet you still have a bit of traditionalism to you. People who like you think they have great taste... and they usually do. Your best soda match: Root Beer Stay away from: 7 Up |
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Words Matter
This is my column from the October issue of ChurchActs, the newspaper of my diocese
I've made my life with words. My training as an actor, years in radio, even today in youth ministry, they all rotate around words and how to use them. I know I've annoyed my daughter for years by actually answering the question she asked, not the one she thought she was asking. For example she'd ask to “see” the remote for the TV. I'd hold it up and then put it back. Of course she'd get irritated because what she wanted was to be given the remote, but that wasn't what she had asked. I really wasn't trying to be obnoxious (that was just a side benefit). Rather I was trying to impress on her the importance of using words the right way. Meaning using them in a way that helps us clearly communicate.
What brings this to mind is how often I hear people using words poorly. I had a co-worker years ago who, when he felt a point was debatable, would always say that it was a “mute” point rather than a “moot” point. That's one common way that we break down communication, by using words incorrectly. What is really bothering me is the attitude I've run into when I ask people if they know what they just said, or if they really meant what they just said. It's the “Whatever/I was only kidding/You know what I mean” attitude. This is the one that really drives me crazy. At it's very center this attitude says that words don't matter. In a faith where we refer to the messiah sometimes as “The Word” it strikes me that we need to take a very close look at how we treat words.
One of the places I see this attitude shine through is when young people use all kinds of negative words toward one another then just laugh it off. It's part of the culture we live in to make words into throw-aways. When we make the words we use to talk to one another throw-aways we're not far from saying that what we're describing is just a throw-away too. When we are constantly battered with negative words it can batter our self image as well. If you call someone a dork often enough it doesn't matter that you don't “mean” anything by it. It doesn't even matter if they know you're kidding or that you love them. Someone they like keeps calling them a rude name, so in their hearts they believe it must be true. The list of words I hear being used range from the pretty tame (dork, weirdo) to some that aren't for polite society or the pages of the diocesan newspaper. If you use those words because they're part of the cool, current youth culture then I'd recommend you take another look at how shallow that culture is. What's being peddled to you is all about surface image and self. A life in faith is about going deep below the surface and caring for others.
I need to note that this is not a “teen age” thing. Adults are using words in our church today designed to hurt and hinder all the time. Once we've decided to stop listening words can build a wonderful barrier to communication that keeps everyone else out. Misusing words with faith and theological underpinnings can create divisions where they don't exist and widen them where they do. As always adults need to remember that we stand as role models for our younger brothers and sisters. The model that I see often (though not always) when it comes to using words disturbs me very deeply.
Just before they begin preaching I've heard many clergy pray that their words be wholly acceptable to God. It strikes me that we need to make that a model for all our words. It's hard to imagine that God finds much satisfaction in hearing us call each other names, no matter how much we protest that we were just joking. In his letter to Ephesus (4:29) Paul reminds us to watch what we say so that all our words brings a touch of God into the lives of the listener.
In other words, words matter.
Peace
I've made my life with words. My training as an actor, years in radio, even today in youth ministry, they all rotate around words and how to use them. I know I've annoyed my daughter for years by actually answering the question she asked, not the one she thought she was asking. For example she'd ask to “see” the remote for the TV. I'd hold it up and then put it back. Of course she'd get irritated because what she wanted was to be given the remote, but that wasn't what she had asked. I really wasn't trying to be obnoxious (that was just a side benefit). Rather I was trying to impress on her the importance of using words the right way. Meaning using them in a way that helps us clearly communicate.
What brings this to mind is how often I hear people using words poorly. I had a co-worker years ago who, when he felt a point was debatable, would always say that it was a “mute” point rather than a “moot” point. That's one common way that we break down communication, by using words incorrectly. What is really bothering me is the attitude I've run into when I ask people if they know what they just said, or if they really meant what they just said. It's the “Whatever/I was only kidding/You know what I mean” attitude. This is the one that really drives me crazy. At it's very center this attitude says that words don't matter. In a faith where we refer to the messiah sometimes as “The Word” it strikes me that we need to take a very close look at how we treat words.
One of the places I see this attitude shine through is when young people use all kinds of negative words toward one another then just laugh it off. It's part of the culture we live in to make words into throw-aways. When we make the words we use to talk to one another throw-aways we're not far from saying that what we're describing is just a throw-away too. When we are constantly battered with negative words it can batter our self image as well. If you call someone a dork often enough it doesn't matter that you don't “mean” anything by it. It doesn't even matter if they know you're kidding or that you love them. Someone they like keeps calling them a rude name, so in their hearts they believe it must be true. The list of words I hear being used range from the pretty tame (dork, weirdo) to some that aren't for polite society or the pages of the diocesan newspaper. If you use those words because they're part of the cool, current youth culture then I'd recommend you take another look at how shallow that culture is. What's being peddled to you is all about surface image and self. A life in faith is about going deep below the surface and caring for others.
I need to note that this is not a “teen age” thing. Adults are using words in our church today designed to hurt and hinder all the time. Once we've decided to stop listening words can build a wonderful barrier to communication that keeps everyone else out. Misusing words with faith and theological underpinnings can create divisions where they don't exist and widen them where they do. As always adults need to remember that we stand as role models for our younger brothers and sisters. The model that I see often (though not always) when it comes to using words disturbs me very deeply.
Just before they begin preaching I've heard many clergy pray that their words be wholly acceptable to God. It strikes me that we need to make that a model for all our words. It's hard to imagine that God finds much satisfaction in hearing us call each other names, no matter how much we protest that we were just joking. In his letter to Ephesus (4:29) Paul reminds us to watch what we say so that all our words brings a touch of God into the lives of the listener.
In other words, words matter.
Peace
Monday, September 25, 2006
More wasting time
Yes I'm wasting time, but I'm struggling with some things I want to write about. So for the time being just silly stuff. The 10% Dixie kind of threw me.
| Your Linguistic Profile: |
| 70% General American English |
| 10% Dixie |
| 5% Midwestern |
| 5% Upper Midwestern |
| 5% Yankee |
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Aaarrrr!
Just couldn't resist.
My pirate name is:
Mad Sam Kidd
Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network
My pirate name is:
Mad Sam Kidd
Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!
Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Where I am
Dear Lord,
I'm tired. Not just physically tired, shoot that's probably the least of this tiredness I feel. I'm tired from feeling like my world is resting on my shoulders. Tired of feeling like I can't afford to let anyone down. Tired of being the responsible one. Tired of the challenges of job and ministry, of bills, of health issues, of all the terrible problems that may exist or may only be in my head. I'm tired of the burdens of my own brokeness.
My heart is tired, my mind is tired, my spirit is tired. I feel like Sisyphus constantly pushing that stupid rock up that stupid hill. Never to get there, always to have it roll back down the hill, right over top of me most times. Sisyphus was given that task as a punishment for trickery. Am I being punished for something? That's not what I understand our relationship to be so I don't think that's it but it's the way I feel sometimes. Sisyphus was given a pointless task to do and an awful lot of what I'm doing feels pointless to me too.
This is a hard thing you've tasked me with, this youth ministry thing. The image of the garden comes up in scripture all the time. It seems like this is the part of the garden where everything grows fast including the weeds. I can spend all day fighting the weeds and never have a moment to feed and water the things I'm supposed to be growing. When particularly clinging weeds gather round what you want me to tend actually RESENTS my pulling those weeds away! And it's likely I'm never going to see the full bloom of the work you have me doing. They're still growing and immature when they leave my care. Am I making any difference at all?
Of course I'm still growing too. And some of those clinging weeds I've become rather partial too as well. I try to remember that you've given me a good place to grow and surrounded me with wonderful resources to help me in that growth. The saying goes that you never give someone more than they can bear. Feels like you've got a pretty high opinion of me somedays! I have to admit that deep down in my heart that feels good, even when it seems like maybe, just maybe, this time you over estimated just a teensy bit.
I'm still tired but I feel a little better now. I know that getting that stupid rock up that stupid hill is still my job. But do you think you could hold it here for just a moment? Just long enough to catch my breath and ready myself again for the push.
Thanks, that was great.
Love you man.
Peace
I'm tired. Not just physically tired, shoot that's probably the least of this tiredness I feel. I'm tired from feeling like my world is resting on my shoulders. Tired of feeling like I can't afford to let anyone down. Tired of being the responsible one. Tired of the challenges of job and ministry, of bills, of health issues, of all the terrible problems that may exist or may only be in my head. I'm tired of the burdens of my own brokeness.
My heart is tired, my mind is tired, my spirit is tired. I feel like Sisyphus constantly pushing that stupid rock up that stupid hill. Never to get there, always to have it roll back down the hill, right over top of me most times. Sisyphus was given that task as a punishment for trickery. Am I being punished for something? That's not what I understand our relationship to be so I don't think that's it but it's the way I feel sometimes. Sisyphus was given a pointless task to do and an awful lot of what I'm doing feels pointless to me too.
This is a hard thing you've tasked me with, this youth ministry thing. The image of the garden comes up in scripture all the time. It seems like this is the part of the garden where everything grows fast including the weeds. I can spend all day fighting the weeds and never have a moment to feed and water the things I'm supposed to be growing. When particularly clinging weeds gather round what you want me to tend actually RESENTS my pulling those weeds away! And it's likely I'm never going to see the full bloom of the work you have me doing. They're still growing and immature when they leave my care. Am I making any difference at all?
Of course I'm still growing too. And some of those clinging weeds I've become rather partial too as well. I try to remember that you've given me a good place to grow and surrounded me with wonderful resources to help me in that growth. The saying goes that you never give someone more than they can bear. Feels like you've got a pretty high opinion of me somedays! I have to admit that deep down in my heart that feels good, even when it seems like maybe, just maybe, this time you over estimated just a teensy bit.
I'm still tired but I feel a little better now. I know that getting that stupid rock up that stupid hill is still my job. But do you think you could hold it here for just a moment? Just long enough to catch my breath and ready myself again for the push.
Thanks, that was great.
Love you man.
Peace
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Yeah, that's a miracle!
I'm still frazzled from the summer and having a little trouble getting myself re-oriented to "real" life. Of course having my only daughter going off to college the day after tomorrow, my lady wife going into surgery in a week and having to move from one house to another while still trying to do my job is probably effecting the overall confusion too! I literally had to stop and think what day it was as I rode into work today.
Of course things could be worse. Walt Mueller is the man behind the Center for Parent/Youth Understanding CPYU, a very cool resource site for stats and info on the world our young people have to traverse. Walt went into work early one day this week and was narrowly missed when a car crashed through his office wall! Photos He was on the phone with his son (who ended up hearing the whole accident)and managed to step just far enough out of the way that he suffered nothing more than some scrapes from the whole thing!
My prayers go out to Walt and the driver (who was basically OK too it appears).
Makes me glad I'm on the second floor.
Peace
Of course things could be worse. Walt Mueller is the man behind the Center for Parent/Youth Understanding CPYU, a very cool resource site for stats and info on the world our young people have to traverse. Walt went into work early one day this week and was narrowly missed when a car crashed through his office wall! Photos He was on the phone with his son (who ended up hearing the whole accident)and managed to step just far enough out of the way that he suffered nothing more than some scrapes from the whole thing!
My prayers go out to Walt and the driver (who was basically OK too it appears).
Makes me glad I'm on the second floor.
Peace
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
A Lightning strike of truth
Every once in a while I come across a blog posting from someone that just smacks me between the eyes with its truth and love. A fair number of those come from the man known as Real Live Preacher. I've commended him to you before in general but the posting today just struck me as amazing and appropriate for those of us who work with youth. The question posed is one we get asked many many times and I intend to hang on to this wisdom for my future use.
You'll find a link to the post in the title and Here
Wow. And I stand by my comment on that post. This man has touched me in amazing ways through his writing. I hope that my blog may become half of what his is in wisdom and faith.
Peace
You'll find a link to the post in the title and Here
Wow. And I stand by my comment on that post. This man has touched me in amazing ways through his writing. I hope that my blog may become half of what his is in wisdom and faith.
Peace
Monday, August 14, 2006
Still here
No I haven't died, gotten lost or whatever It's simply been such a busy summer that I'm having trouble getting the energy to sit down and write. It's been a busy, busy summer and I'll share about it soon. But for the moment I'm just trying to struggle along.
Peace
Peace
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Thoughts from the weekend
Sorry I've been a bit lax but it's still a busy time of the year for me. Got lots of family and friends coming in for the weekend. Celebrating the daughter's graduation from HS (I think the first school bill arrived today. If I'm lucky it's just her room/roommate assignment)plus a second memorial service for my mom. More thoughts on that later.
Something struck me over the weekend. First I was doing something that I generally DON'T do. I was watching golf on TV. I play golf (badly) and enjoy the frustration and triumphs of the game. But I find golf on TV to be just about terminally boring. Because they bounce around from player to player and stroke to stroke I get no feel for any one round. It took me a while to realize that Sergio Garcia was Tiger Woods' partner. The only reason I watched was:
1: It was a major
2: It was almost over (I tuned in when Tiger was on the 14th hole)
3: I'd heard that Tiger wasn't blowing away the field.
Let me be perfectly honest. I don't want Tiger to win. Quite simply I'm tired of Tiger winning all the time (which he hasn't done in the last couple years). This has nothing to do with Tiger himself. It's just that when the same person or team wins all the time I get bored. Dynasties are dull and overall aren't good for the game after about the fourth year in a row IMO. And when you win the Tiger often does, by blowing the rest of the tourney into the weeds early then coasting to the trophy it makes watching on TV even MORE boring.
So Tiger is only a couple strokes ahead and Chris DeMarco (yes I was rooting for DeMarco) was doing all he could to keep the heat on. You know what? It was still boring.
What finally grabbed my attention was what happened after Tiger finished the 18th hole.
He burst into tears.
And my opinion of Tiger jumped through the roof. Because we'd never seen this kind of emotional outburst from him before. Because having lost BOTH my parents in the last six years (and Mom only 9 months ago) I felt his pain. Because he didn't try to hide it. Much to the surprise of his caddy it looked like, LOL. Then again when he hugged his wife.
This was the moment he'd always shared with his dad who died a couple months ago. Another major title, the only ones that count for Tiger, another big hug from the man who had put Tiger on the path to greatness. And the final smack of reality when it was no longer something he could just ignore. His dad wasn't there waiting for him. Would not EVER again be there to hug him after a win. And Tiger broke down and cried.
And so did I. Because my Mom won't ever call me to harass me about something she thinks I should be doing, or telling me a story for the third time because she'd forgotten which of her sons she'd already told it to. Because I can't call my dad and talk about the sweet new cars that are coming out or how the latest Formula One race finished. That neither of them will see thier eldest granddaughter debut on the college stage, or see any of their other grandkids graduate or play football or whatever. That I lost the advice and comfort of my parents.
And it sucks. That's what hit Tiger so hard on the 18th green. So he cried and hung onto his friends and wife. Which is entirely cool and proper.
In that instant I felt like Tiger (the greatest golfer in the world) and I (not so much) came a little closer. My prayers are with Tiger. Heck I hope he wipes up a few more majors this year.
Peace
Something struck me over the weekend. First I was doing something that I generally DON'T do. I was watching golf on TV. I play golf (badly) and enjoy the frustration and triumphs of the game. But I find golf on TV to be just about terminally boring. Because they bounce around from player to player and stroke to stroke I get no feel for any one round. It took me a while to realize that Sergio Garcia was Tiger Woods' partner. The only reason I watched was:
1: It was a major
2: It was almost over (I tuned in when Tiger was on the 14th hole)
3: I'd heard that Tiger wasn't blowing away the field.
Let me be perfectly honest. I don't want Tiger to win. Quite simply I'm tired of Tiger winning all the time (which he hasn't done in the last couple years). This has nothing to do with Tiger himself. It's just that when the same person or team wins all the time I get bored. Dynasties are dull and overall aren't good for the game after about the fourth year in a row IMO. And when you win the Tiger often does, by blowing the rest of the tourney into the weeds early then coasting to the trophy it makes watching on TV even MORE boring.
So Tiger is only a couple strokes ahead and Chris DeMarco (yes I was rooting for DeMarco) was doing all he could to keep the heat on. You know what? It was still boring.
What finally grabbed my attention was what happened after Tiger finished the 18th hole.
He burst into tears.
And my opinion of Tiger jumped through the roof. Because we'd never seen this kind of emotional outburst from him before. Because having lost BOTH my parents in the last six years (and Mom only 9 months ago) I felt his pain. Because he didn't try to hide it. Much to the surprise of his caddy it looked like, LOL. Then again when he hugged his wife.
This was the moment he'd always shared with his dad who died a couple months ago. Another major title, the only ones that count for Tiger, another big hug from the man who had put Tiger on the path to greatness. And the final smack of reality when it was no longer something he could just ignore. His dad wasn't there waiting for him. Would not EVER again be there to hug him after a win. And Tiger broke down and cried.
And so did I. Because my Mom won't ever call me to harass me about something she thinks I should be doing, or telling me a story for the third time because she'd forgotten which of her sons she'd already told it to. Because I can't call my dad and talk about the sweet new cars that are coming out or how the latest Formula One race finished. That neither of them will see thier eldest granddaughter debut on the college stage, or see any of their other grandkids graduate or play football or whatever. That I lost the advice and comfort of my parents.
And it sucks. That's what hit Tiger so hard on the 18th green. So he cried and hung onto his friends and wife. Which is entirely cool and proper.
In that instant I felt like Tiger (the greatest golfer in the world) and I (not so much) came a little closer. My prayers are with Tiger. Heck I hope he wipes up a few more majors this year.
Peace
Friday, July 21, 2006
A Community theme
I mentioned the theme for Senior High (actually for all our camps this summer) and that we'd had some success with the teaching. The theme was simply "Community". I try for simple concept themes that will allow the director and staff of each camp to interpret it as they see fit for their age group. (Last year was "Beloved"). I did some research and didn't find anything that I really liked, so I borrowed some ideas and built a course around them.
My approach was simple. We talked about what community means in the light of a life in faith. For the overall concept I took John 13:34-35 because I think that (the new commandment love another as I have loved you) is central to our understanding of how we create a community. It's not enough to love one another but we are to do it as Jesus loved us. Lots tougher. We talked about what constituted a community, the good, the bad, the communities they belonged to and the responsibilities that go along with it.
Each day had an individual scripture story that went with the day and some activity/discussion for them to hash out what we were talking about (each session lasted an hour) The central focus was on a pair of concepts:
Confess/Forgive
Serve/Accept
Encourage/Admonish
Then on Friday we talked about "Taking it Home". Each of the pairs had to be defined first, then we looked at the stories from scripture and discussed them. I enjoyed all the sessions and the kids could repeat back to me the concepts we'd discussed the days before and put them in context so I was getting through too which was pretty cool. Friday's session kind of had me stumped. How to get it through, at the end of the week and without sounding preachy? I had really wanted to use some music from Isaac Everett (mentioned in a previous post) and as I listened to one cut (don't have the CD here so I can't tell you the name, it's cut 4 off his brand new disc) there was a line that just kept coming back to me "Lead me to Jerusalem to die" (that's close if not perfect). It wasn't until I was up in front of the class with the music playing (pretty hard rock sound to it, so it's pounding and the kids are sitting there with their heads bobbing) when it struck me. I went over to the chalkboard and wrote "Go to Jerusalem and DIE!" then walked away till the song ended. In the silence that followed I talked about the community of believers that went before us, and how they would go on pilgrimage. I spoke of our own lifelong pilgrimage to the Holy City and how as people of faith we are called there to die to our selves. All of the concepts we discussed were about setting aside our selves to love one another. It is in doing that, just as Jesus did, that we truly fulfill the new commandment and create a faith based and faith filled community. I'd only used up about 20 minutes of the hour but it felt like time to wrap it up. So I sent them on their way to their Jerusalems.
You never know about how well the seeds been planted with young people. They seemed interested and open and involved. I'm not sure I get to ask for any more than that. The adults seemed to really like it. One suggested I needed to do that as a workshop for adults throughout the diocese and the bishop suggested that me teaching needed to be a regular part of conference. (Blush)
By the end of the week we'd had a beach party (with rubber duckies for everyone! Those were a major hit), a dance, a talent show, game night, workshops on Anglican Prayer beads, General Convention (with one of our former youth who had been part of the Official Youth Presence in Columbus)and done a Morning worship that drew from traditions all around the world (mostly Anglican plus Iona) and prayed for folks from the diocese and the world wide Communion. Some of the kids liked the morning prayer enough that they took me up on taking a copy home with them. Maybe they'll even use it!
It's tiring me out just thinking back on the week. It's a conference I feel really good about. It wasn't perfect (next year! lol)but it went very well.
Onward to the next task...
Peace
My approach was simple. We talked about what community means in the light of a life in faith. For the overall concept I took John 13:34-35 because I think that (the new commandment love another as I have loved you) is central to our understanding of how we create a community. It's not enough to love one another but we are to do it as Jesus loved us. Lots tougher. We talked about what constituted a community, the good, the bad, the communities they belonged to and the responsibilities that go along with it.
Each day had an individual scripture story that went with the day and some activity/discussion for them to hash out what we were talking about (each session lasted an hour) The central focus was on a pair of concepts:
Confess/Forgive
Serve/Accept
Encourage/Admonish
Then on Friday we talked about "Taking it Home". Each of the pairs had to be defined first, then we looked at the stories from scripture and discussed them. I enjoyed all the sessions and the kids could repeat back to me the concepts we'd discussed the days before and put them in context so I was getting through too which was pretty cool. Friday's session kind of had me stumped. How to get it through, at the end of the week and without sounding preachy? I had really wanted to use some music from Isaac Everett (mentioned in a previous post) and as I listened to one cut (don't have the CD here so I can't tell you the name, it's cut 4 off his brand new disc) there was a line that just kept coming back to me "Lead me to Jerusalem to die" (that's close if not perfect). It wasn't until I was up in front of the class with the music playing (pretty hard rock sound to it, so it's pounding and the kids are sitting there with their heads bobbing) when it struck me. I went over to the chalkboard and wrote "Go to Jerusalem and DIE!" then walked away till the song ended. In the silence that followed I talked about the community of believers that went before us, and how they would go on pilgrimage. I spoke of our own lifelong pilgrimage to the Holy City and how as people of faith we are called there to die to our selves. All of the concepts we discussed were about setting aside our selves to love one another. It is in doing that, just as Jesus did, that we truly fulfill the new commandment and create a faith based and faith filled community. I'd only used up about 20 minutes of the hour but it felt like time to wrap it up. So I sent them on their way to their Jerusalems.
You never know about how well the seeds been planted with young people. They seemed interested and open and involved. I'm not sure I get to ask for any more than that. The adults seemed to really like it. One suggested I needed to do that as a workshop for adults throughout the diocese and the bishop suggested that me teaching needed to be a regular part of conference. (Blush)
By the end of the week we'd had a beach party (with rubber duckies for everyone! Those were a major hit), a dance, a talent show, game night, workshops on Anglican Prayer beads, General Convention (with one of our former youth who had been part of the Official Youth Presence in Columbus)and done a Morning worship that drew from traditions all around the world (mostly Anglican plus Iona) and prayed for folks from the diocese and the world wide Communion. Some of the kids liked the morning prayer enough that they took me up on taking a copy home with them. Maybe they'll even use it!
It's tiring me out just thinking back on the week. It's a conference I feel really good about. It wasn't perfect (next year! lol)but it went very well.
Onward to the next task...
Peace
Thursday, July 20, 2006
OK let's do some talking here
End of a long hot day, here in the world's tiniest office with no air conditioning. Let me take a stab at just a few memories from Senior High Conference.
It's always HOT. But not this year. Warm mostly with rain the first couple days. The rain was lots of fun the day the electronic entrance locks all died. With the entire conference outside! It also made our class time interesting since we're normally out doors. But we survived.
The kids decided to translate my name into Spanish. For no apparent reason. So I became Jota for most of the week. I'm usually pretty easy about this kind of stuff but they insisted on shouting it out every time they saw me. Which wore thin REAL fast. Finally I quietly asked one of them to drop it since it was starting to bug me (and we have a community rule that says we refer to people they way they prefer). No big deal, just a quiet request which I planned to repeat individually over the next couple days till it died out. Well the next morning at the big teaching session one of the girls greets me with a big "Jota!" and the youth I'd spoken with last night tells her not to do that since I had "yelled" at him the night before! Please be assured there is no way what I did could be construed as yelling. If only because it was last thing of the day and I was exhausted! So I quietly explained to the whole conference that I preferred the name my momma gave me and explained how much of our identities were tied up in our names. They told me that I'd said I liked the nickname (sorry, no) and got a little upset with me. I stood my ground and the "Jota" thing died out mostly. Not the way I wanted to handle it but it got the job done. Sheesh.
It's funny when I was a kid I thought my name was dopey. There weren't that many Jays out there (in elementary school there was one other, a really cute red headed girl! I'm not sure there were more than three of us in high school) In the end however it is my name and I should have called them on the name rule earlier rather than let it slide. I guess it's especially important to me because I'm NOT clergy. Most of the staff are, so they're Father John Paul, or Bishop Michael or Mother Ellen. I discourage the use of Mom or Pop (titles for adults working with our Happening movement. I do qualify for that) because not everyone has done Happening (or will) and that should remain part of that community. I know other adults who feel differently and I let them do their thing (again the name rule). So what I DO have is the name the Captain and his lady gave me almost 50 years ago. It's mine and it means ME. I don't know who the hell Jota is but I wish him well.
Of course that was the biggest problem we had (OK we had some organizational problems with the college and the whole electronic lock thing). And that's a very good thing.
I was very excited about the theme for this year and the program I led. I'll share some more about that soon.
Peace
It's always HOT. But not this year. Warm mostly with rain the first couple days. The rain was lots of fun the day the electronic entrance locks all died. With the entire conference outside! It also made our class time interesting since we're normally out doors. But we survived.
The kids decided to translate my name into Spanish. For no apparent reason. So I became Jota for most of the week. I'm usually pretty easy about this kind of stuff but they insisted on shouting it out every time they saw me. Which wore thin REAL fast. Finally I quietly asked one of them to drop it since it was starting to bug me (and we have a community rule that says we refer to people they way they prefer). No big deal, just a quiet request which I planned to repeat individually over the next couple days till it died out. Well the next morning at the big teaching session one of the girls greets me with a big "Jota!" and the youth I'd spoken with last night tells her not to do that since I had "yelled" at him the night before! Please be assured there is no way what I did could be construed as yelling. If only because it was last thing of the day and I was exhausted! So I quietly explained to the whole conference that I preferred the name my momma gave me and explained how much of our identities were tied up in our names. They told me that I'd said I liked the nickname (sorry, no) and got a little upset with me. I stood my ground and the "Jota" thing died out mostly. Not the way I wanted to handle it but it got the job done. Sheesh.
It's funny when I was a kid I thought my name was dopey. There weren't that many Jays out there (in elementary school there was one other, a really cute red headed girl! I'm not sure there were more than three of us in high school) In the end however it is my name and I should have called them on the name rule earlier rather than let it slide. I guess it's especially important to me because I'm NOT clergy. Most of the staff are, so they're Father John Paul, or Bishop Michael or Mother Ellen. I discourage the use of Mom or Pop (titles for adults working with our Happening movement. I do qualify for that) because not everyone has done Happening (or will) and that should remain part of that community. I know other adults who feel differently and I let them do their thing (again the name rule). So what I DO have is the name the Captain and his lady gave me almost 50 years ago. It's mine and it means ME. I don't know who the hell Jota is but I wish him well.
Of course that was the biggest problem we had (OK we had some organizational problems with the college and the whole electronic lock thing). And that's a very good thing.
I was very excited about the theme for this year and the program I led. I'll share some more about that soon.
Peace
Friday, July 14, 2006
Getting back into the swing
Yeah, I know, I've been gone awhile. The whole General Convention, Senior High Conference, daughter graduating from HS, summer time thing has just completely worn me out. I promise starting next week more posts. In the meantime my thanks to Mykel Pickens (I'd say my friend Mykel but I'm not sure we know each other well enough. We've hung out at times on the same boards and lists. So I'll settle on my brother in Christ) who posted this and I really like it. Think about it.
FOR WHOM DID CHRIST DIE?
HE DIED . . .
1. For all (1 Tim. 2:6; Isa. 53:6).
2. For every man (Heb. 2:9).
3. For the world (John 3:16).
4. For the sins of the whole world (1 John 2:2).
5. For the ungodly (Rom. 5:6).
6. For false teachers (2 Peter 2:1).
7. For many (Matt. 20:28).
8. For Israel (John 11:50-51).
9. For the Church (Eph. 5:25).
10. For "me" (Gal. 2:20).
Peace
FOR WHOM DID CHRIST DIE?
HE DIED . . .
1. For all (1 Tim. 2:6; Isa. 53:6).
2. For every man (Heb. 2:9).
3. For the world (John 3:16).
4. For the sins of the whole world (1 John 2:2).
5. For the ungodly (Rom. 5:6).
6. For false teachers (2 Peter 2:1).
7. For many (Matt. 20:28).
8. For Israel (John 11:50-51).
9. For the Church (Eph. 5:25).
10. For "me" (Gal. 2:20).
Peace
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Wow, I'm tired
Sorry that there's been such a gap in my posting but the computer system at the college where we hold Senior High Conference apparently has some new level of security that wouldn't allow me to log onto any of my usual sites. I could read anything I wanted but couldn't post anything, anywhere. In the end it was probably a good thing since it focused my limited attention span on the tasks at hand.
I'm still exhausted. Prior to July 1 I had been at home three days in three weeks. I still feel jet-lagged and not at all ready to face my office.
Oh my office! Stacked with boxes from camp, back mail, hundreds of back e-mails (OK those are only "virtually" stacked!), expense reports to finish, camp bills to be paid, money to be submitted, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
The good news is that conference, while small, went well. I got some rave reviews of my teaching bits from people who have no need nor reason to butter me up. I'll share the stories and ideas over the next couple weeks as I continue to catch up.
Meanwhile there are several projects screaming for my attention and there's all this chaos to be tidied...
Peace
I'm still exhausted. Prior to July 1 I had been at home three days in three weeks. I still feel jet-lagged and not at all ready to face my office.
Oh my office! Stacked with boxes from camp, back mail, hundreds of back e-mails (OK those are only "virtually" stacked!), expense reports to finish, camp bills to be paid, money to be submitted, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
The good news is that conference, while small, went well. I got some rave reviews of my teaching bits from people who have no need nor reason to butter me up. I'll share the stories and ideas over the next couple weeks as I continue to catch up.
Meanwhile there are several projects screaming for my attention and there's all this chaos to be tidied...
Peace
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