Another New Beginning

About three and a half years ago, I started this blog as part of my journey into what I called "the real world." Little did I know how long it would take me to get there.

As I look back on the early posts here, I can't help feeling like it was a different person who wrote them.  I guess really it was.  I can hardly believe all that God has led me through in this past season, and the changes in my life have been both internal and external.  My soul and my situation are both so different now.

Not to say there weren't some really good things going on at the time I started all this, but as I look back I see a kid with some big talk and not much substance to back it up with.  In this season, God is calling me into manhood.  Into hard work.  Into courage.  (Things about which college graduate me had so very much to learn!)

God has also been providing me with new opportunities to share my thoughts.  It's become apparent to me that if I don't have any place to express what God is teaching me, I don't know what to do with myself.  That's part of why I started this, really.  I had all these ideas and no forum in which to teach them, and I was pretty much boiling over.  Now I lead a small group and a worship team, and God has finally given me chances to teach in church again after a long break.  I couldn't ask for more opportunity!

Another thing about the time when I started writing on here was just that: the time.  I had all kinds of it.  Much more than I knew what to do with, in fact, and I wasn't really using it well to be honest.  Sadly, those blog posts are one of the only truly productive things I was doing in a large part of that season.  Now I have a full-time job in addition to all the teaching opportunities I was just talking about.  I certainly don't need to try to find ways to pass the time!

Of course, much more could be written about how I'm in a different place now than I was then.  However, another thing God has been teaching me to leave behind is my compulsive desire to say everything I think needs to be said all at once.  With that in mind, here are just two of many things I think are important moving forward from here.

First, God owns everything.  There's already an appalling number of I's in this post and this blog, and there will be a few more before I get done here.  But he owns everything, and the more I realize that, the more I enjoy life.  He just isn't that concerned about my agenda.  I hold on to my freedom and time in self-employment, and he tells me to get a job.  I pray about a girl, and he tells me... to get a job.  Seriously, he knows what to do, and my time and effort belong to him, not me.  If I'll let him use those things as he sees fit, I believe with everything I am that I'll experience the blessing I've tried (and failed) so long to produce on my own.  Not that it's some magic formula-- it's just that where the Spirit of the Lord is there's freedom.  That's the ultimate blessing.

That brings me to my other point.  I've noticed that my life goes better when it's lived with a healthy dose of just not caring so much.  Now, I don't mean to say that life and doing the right thing aren't important.  What I mean is that a great deal of what I've cared about has been misplaced.  I've cared so much about my own safety and what other people think of me, and that has never produced anything but death.  I just don't have the energy to keep caring about that stuff, and I become the person I really am more and more as I let it go.  I end up accidentally walking into the freedom I thought I could find myself but couldn't!  I have life less figured out than I ever thought, and I can only hope that blessing continues.  Figuring everything else out is someone else's job anyway, and guess what? He's already finished it.

These days, I care more than ever what God thinks about me and less about what everyone else does.  The nice thing about that is that what he thinks doesn't change like people's opinions do.  I don't have to manage it.  Nor can I: no matter what I do, God is only looking at me with love and planning me a future filled with hope.  100% love, all the time-- Even when that means he has to discipline me to get something stupid to stop.  It never changes his opinion on me: beloved son, covered by the blood of the beloved Son.

So, that real world thing I was talking about?  I didn't mean getting a grown-up job (although I did do that).  I mean seeing that this is my Father's world, and no matter what happens I have him.  His question to me in this season is the same as to the disciples in the sinking boat in the storm: why are you so afraid?  And as I realize that he will always be there, I start to fear less.  With him there, it will always be ok... and even if it isn't, I still get to go be with him in heaven at the end.

Still, eternal life starts now.  That life is the light of the world, the streetlights' call.  What is eternal life?  That I may know the only true God and Jesus who he sent. I can do that now.  I can let his light shine through me more and more-- another new beginning, every day, every moment, every prayer.

Want to try it?  Want to see what happens?  Well, you won't read about it here.

Come live it with me.

Sports and Worship

Today I'm going to address two subjects. One has been a big part of my life for a long time, but interestingly not a very big part of this blog.  The other has been an even bigger part of my life but not for quite as long, and therefore has been a huge part of this blog since its beginning.  Now, had I come up with a more creative title for this post I could make a dramatic revelation of what these two mystery topics are at this point... but instead I'll just refer you to the top of the post.  They're even in the right order!  How convenient.

To begin with, I want to subdivide the sports category into two parts: being a sports fan (i.e. watching/following sports), and being an athlete (i.e. playing sports).  I'll take on the subject of fandom first.  I got thinking about this because I had the opportunity to go see an Indians game with a collection of very cool people yesterday.  It was a wonderful time (and the home team actually won, a rarity for games I've been to recently) and I feel very thankful to God to have been part of it.

I'm a worship leader at my church (don't worry, this is relevant to the previous paragraph, just hang on), and God has been challenging me to lead a life of worship, not just when I'm on stage or playing my guitar but all the time.  I was struck again at the baseball game how much seeing a live sporting event is like going to a worship service.  I mean, there's singing, clapping, listening, watching... even prayer sometimes.  All the elements are there-- the question in my mind is just: what is being worshiped?

I'm still not sure what I think about this.  I do know I used to be one of the biggest sports fans of anyone I know. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that I followed all the major sports religiously, and I'd go so far as to say that sports were an idol for me.  Even as God has been helping me put things back in the right order, though, I've been wondering what the proper place of sports is.  I think it's easy to use sports as an escape from the real struggles of the real world-- that's what I was doing before.  Part of me wants to say I should just throw it all the way out of my life if it could cause me to sin, but I don't think that kind of legalism is what relationship with God is all about.  Plus, even after God has broken my idol, I still really enjoy watching sports! So what do I make of that?

My current take on it is that I just need to stay in the real world.  I'm not sure I can explain what that means, but I know when I've left reality to live in a false world, whether of sports, video games, or whatever.  I also know that I didn't feel like that after the game yesterday.  I felt like the game was secondary to the fact that we were able to build community, at least for me.  I think it's a good sign that I had at least two conversations that were more interesting to me than the game.  In fact, the game can even help keep things from getting awkward or uncomfortable by removing the pressure to talk about something all the time.  If you pay attention, though, you can have meaningful and important conversations in and around the action in a totally natural way.  Baseball works especially well for this since there are significant stretches where literally nothing happens, but it applies to all sports I think.

See, even for people like me who are pretty serious and intense, it's impossible to have "important" conversation all the time.  I don't think human beings can support it... and I'm coming to realize it wouldn't even be healthy to do so!  We have to prove ourselves to our friends by being present and real in the little things before we have any credibility on the big things.  And sports, it turns out, are just about the easiest and most enjoyable common ground point I can think for making an initial connection with someone.  So if I can stay in the real world (that God rules) and not lose track of what's really important (living a life that honors Him and recognizes his presence), I can not only enjoy a fun game but also honor God by building relational equity and new friendships (and then by thanking him for all of it!).  If I lose track of reality, sports can swallow my life.  Simple as that.

I think the same thing applies to playing sports as well.  I've always loved running around like a crazy person chasing a ball or frisbee or really anything else sports-related-- never met a sport I didn't like.  It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't have it, but there's this innocent joy in just testing what I can do and enjoying what I'm physically capable of.  I never really understood how that related to worship until recently.  I just read, though, about how all of creation worships God its maker.  Let me quote Psalm 19: 1-5--

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,
which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course."

How do the heavens have a voice?  How can the sun praise God?  These are inanimate objects we're talking about, remember.  I think they worship God because they do exactly what he designed them to do.  That's why all of creation worships God; we're the only part of it that sometimes chooses not to.  But God's design for us is multifaceted for sure.  Yes, we're designed to worship and praise and love, but God also gave me athletic ability and joy in using it.  Can't I worship him by using that gift with a joyful and thankful heart, following in his design?  If you thinking I'm reaching in making that analogy... well, David made the same one in verse five above!  No, not the bridegroom... that's a whole different kind of worship! I'm talking about the champion. Now, I'm not always a champion by any stretch of the imagination, but I know that feeling of rejoicing to run the course.  I praise God for it.

And that's how sports have become part of my relationship with God.  As we keep the focus on him, all his blessings come into proper focus for us.  The question isn't about making a rule of what's right or how much sports is ok, but about learning to walk with the Lord and submitting to his design, staying present in the reality where he reigns and where he deserves more praise than any sports team.  He loves us and has given us so much, but we can only appreciate the gifts fully when they point to the great giver.  Just like at the end of that same Psalm, what matters is this:

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer."

A Winter Poem in Spring

I'm looking out a window right now at that beautiful kind of wet snow that sticks to only the tops of tree branches and makes the whole world look like if you bit it, you'd taste ice cream.  Earlier, I took a walk in the beginnings of it, but it was still a pleasant surprise when I looked out later to see that it had covered everything.  I know it's almost April, and even my winter-loving self has to admit that it is now, by all official standards, spring.  I just think it's kind of funny that just because of that arbitrary division of months, some people act like this snow is an affront to the dignity of the world.

That got me thinking, too, about how we don't really get to decide when a lot of different things happen in life.  We can strive and try and even ask God for things, but they happen exactly when he wants them to happen, regardless of our plans or categories.  Just like it snows in April (and sometimes May too) in Cleveland. 

Then, I started thinking about the challenge of staying in the present.  I wrote last time about how the desire to have everything right now gets in our way.  However, that doesn't change the fact that right now is really the only moment we have to work with.  I think our problem comes when we spend now focusing on later or already.  When we do that, we effectively take ourselves out of the present.  What's more, we make it very difficult for people to connect to us because we are somewhere (or somewhen) else.

God is never like that, though.  As we try to become more like him, it's important to remember that he is definitionally the God who IS.  It's his name.  I AM.  Although he is not bound by time and experiences all the moments of it equally, he has dedicated his presence to being with us.  God with us, Immanuel, is really just a synonym for I AM in my mind.  If you look at how Jesus lived when he was here, he embodied this divine characteristic fully.  He was able to devote his full attention to wherever and whenever he was, and whoever he was with.  He knew so well how to be present.

Now, I don't think it's wrong for all you colder-blooded people to wish for warmer weather.  I just made the connection mentally that staying emotionally and spiritually present in our lives can be like trying to appreciate a snowstorm in spring.  If we can look past the potential inconvenience and the fact that the whole thing isn't what we were expecting (or hoping for in many cases), there is great beauty to be seen and enjoyed.  Although the seasons of our lives may not last as long or may last longer than we expect or want, God never fails to give us beauty out of our ashes (see Isaiah 61:3).  Instead of getting stuck on the beauty of the future (or past), why not stay in the present and enjoy what's there?

That's what I'm trying to do.  In fact, I've been trying to do it for awhile now, and this whole winter stream of consciousness reminded me of a poem I wrote a long time ago.  For some reason or other, snow has always been something that gets me thinking about these deeper things, I guess.  I'll end with this:

Comparison


faintly perceptible
falling in silence

uncounted stacking
of discrete moments

gentle brilliance
smiling, smoldering cold

overpowering flash
that marks restive roads

empty blanket plush
insulating clarity in the dark

silken momentum
across great distance

quiet everything covering
shining outer shells

restoring final stream
that gives growth future

indirect ocean
wave of frozen clean

and how could we be anywhere
but home?

Witness?

I don't know how much this is true anywhere else, but in Cleveland sports are a religion.

There's really no other way to explain it.  I was reading the newspaper the other day, and they had all these photos of people looking extraordinarily downcast after watching yet another highly touted Cleveland team bomb out of its league's playoffs in spectacular fashion.  In this most recent episode, the Cavaliers essentially rolled over and died against a team they were probably better than, all the while looking lethargic, scared, and relatively hopeless.  Sound familiar?  Those are also a lot of the same problems the city in general has, ironically.

Now, disappointment and heartbreak are pretty foundational to Cleveland sports.  Every time a Cleveland team is getting even remotely close to doing something good, the sports shows inevitably have to air the montage of all of Cleveland's past failures.  I've seen this so many times that I can tell you what's coming and in what order without even watching it-- Willie Mays' catch, the Drive, the Fumble, the Shot, and 1997 game 7 are the standard lineup, sometimes with other humiliating moments thrown in for good measure.  My point in saying all this is that you might think Clevelanders would be getting used to this stuff.

This time, though, there was an extra layer of despondency and fear attached to the loss.  This particular loss happened to be in the last year of the contract of Cleveland's self-appointed savior, meaning that he could end up cutting his losses and leaving Cleveland to join another team with a better chance of winning.  I'm sure you know who I'm referring to-- giant billboard downtown?  arms outstretched in a travesty of the cross? army of fans in shirts that say "WITNESS" right above a Nike swoosh?  Yeah, that's the guy.  The imagery is almost too obvious: Cleveland is looking to LeBron for salvation.

I think somehow people have bought into the idea (read: lie) that if Cleveland could just win a sports championship, the city would be saved or somehow set on the road to recovery.  Now the best chance in years for that to happen might leave town.  You can start to see why everyone is so upset.  There's no denying the fact that LeBron's arrival and time in Cleveland have brought a lot of money to the city that otherwise wouldn't have been there, both in ticket sales and the spending of people who come from across the nation to see him.  But even if he could deliver on his promise and bring a championship to Cleveland, all of its deep, systemic problems would still exist.

It's easier, though, not to think about those real problems.  People who want to ignore them (or at least get a small respite from them) readily turn to sports as an escape, and that's where the salvation problem begins.  I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with sports; if you know me, you know I enjoy both playing sports and watching well-played games (which Cleveland unfortunately supplied very few of in this year's playoffs).  That's the thing though: sports were meant to be enjoyed.  When I saw all those depressed faces in the Plain Dealer, I couldn't help thinking that the point was being missed somewhere.  Obviously, we all want our team to win, and that's fine.  But when it becomes so pivotal to our emotions that we can't enjoy it anymore, then I think we're starting to head towards Jonah 2:8 territory.

Remember that verse? It says "Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs."  I feel like a lot of Clevelanders were and are forfeiting some happiness and grace they could have had by clinging to idols, whether sports, winning, or LeBron himself.  I have to include myself in that group as well.  For a lot of my life, I've lived and died with Cleveland sports.  (I wasn't really sentient for most of those montage of failure moments, but my 10-year old self was crushed after the '97 world series.)  You'd think all the disappointment might get us looking for something better.

But you know what? This isn't just about basketball or even sports in general.  The same thing happens any time we cling so tightly to things that we miss God.  This is the natural condition of all of us in our fallen state, and it's the perfect opportunity to have a real witness.  We all have things we've put our hope in that have dramatically let us down: people, relationships, jobs, money, and yes, even sports teams.  No one is exempt from this, even if they could care less about the free-agent saga of LeBron. 

We can always share our stories of our idols failing to satisfy.  And then... then we can bear witness to the One who is worthy of our praise, who has never let us down, and who will never leave us for another team.  He sees the problems in Cleveland that run much deeper than the ineptitude of our sports teams, and they don't scare him.  Our job is to show him to the people who are looking for him in a team, a relationship, or a freakishly athletic and egotistical superstar.  I think that's what it really means to be a witness in Cleveland.

A Heart for Cleveland

One of the biggest things God has been doing in my life recently is teaching me how to feel. If you know me well at all, you know that I'm a thinker. I love to analyze things, and I tend to turn them over in my brain repeatedly until I arrive at what I deem to be a "solution," whatever that means. I've always wanted to have a logical reason for things, and that pretty much leaves emotional considerations in the background.

I've come to realize, though, that my unflappable logic and analysis has often just been another layer of my biggest weakness: pride. My refusal to feel was really just arrogance, an attempt to control the world through understanding. If I remain unaffected, I stay in control.

When it comes down to it, I really have believed that I was in control in my life. Now, it obviously takes some pretty selective memory to believe something like that in the face of all the craziness of life, but I was getting the hang of it. Problem was, the One who really does have the control wasn't too thrilled. He's not really a fan of competition for his position.

Long story short, God started shattering my perceptions of control by using my emotions. Now, I don't know if you've ever tried to make yourself feel something (e.g. joy, love, etc.), but if you have, you know that it really doesn't work. If you haven't, give it a shot sometime. I don't think it's possible, at least not for long. Anyway, the conclusion of all my logic and analysis was that if I had all the answers, I should be happy. Needless to say, I wasn't.

To give an example, I'll share a poem I wrote somewhere in the midst of trying to analyze my way through life. During my Junior year of college, my mom had totalled her car (she was fine) and was borrowing mine, so I had to take the bus/train to school for a while. The experience had quite an effect on me, and I wrote this in a subconscious attempt to deal with what I was feeling but didn't want to admit.


Commute

Today I am riding through
the steel bowels of a single
manmade mountain. It isn’t
very impressive, but it is all
the subway we have here. I
haven’t eaten for hours,
but I don’t get off as I reach
the city center, a hard rock
that only turns to living flesh
at certain quite specific
times. Those times, you can
lose yourself in the hurrying
humanity and quietly pretend
you have the answer to the
endless iron question. Other times,
it’s better to pass quickly by
the dirty Modernist monuments
and hope you can catch
the next bus at your connection
further on.
Thursday, 4:34
by the market tower clock
and I am boarding the 4:25.
The conglomerate smell of the
market is all I will enjoy today, not
the shouting vendors as they
make their best deal or set up
the stuffed pig’s head at
just the right eye-level
to scare the children. I don’t
have time for the homemade
glazed doughnuts from the
baker in the far northwest corner
or the fresh produce that
is somewhat less fresh than
the sellers say, but still a bit
more fresh than it smells.
No,
today my goal is just to make
it home, taking the redline 66X
and the 20A through the shades
of culture, death and life
to my refuge from the smoldering
embers in the dying heart
of the fire, where I can set myself
apart and analyze as I prepare
for the inevitable onrush of
tomorrow and my next ride.





I knew even then that this withdrawn analysis was not going to be the answer, but writing this poem provided me with the first realization that that's what I was doing. I had always thought of myself as a city kid, in touch with the problems of the street. Really though, despite the fact that I lived within the city, I had left it, to protect my heart from the hardness and pain. I was taking sociology classes, learning how to analyze the problems of the city without really feeling them, trading emotions for statistics. As I hope you can tell from the poem, I love my city (well, most of it anyway), but I was turning my back on it.

Even more pressing on my thoughts was my own survival in finishing college and managing my life. I spent a lot of time in survival mode in those days. Living like that gets tiring though, and God had other things in store. First, he had to bring me face to face with my own emotions, which turned out to be darker and much less controlled than I had thought. I had to learn, as strange as it might sound, to feel what I was really feeling, even if it meant admitting that I had no idea what to do with it and very little (if any) control over it. It's a journey I'm still walking on, and probably will be for quite awhile.

As I feel my own emotions more and more, though, I'm finding that God has more for me than just that. He also wants me to feel His emotions! I think we can easily forget that God feels things just like we do. Actually, I guess a better way to put that would be that he feels things even more deeply and profoundly than we do. And the biggest thing he feels? Love.

In asking God what he feels, I have become much more conscious of his overpowering love. For me, for others, for his Son, his church, everyone. God feels sorrow mixed with love, anger mixed with love and joy because of love. In fact, one of the most amazing and praiseworthy things about God is the way that he loves us beyond explanation, despite ourselves.

So, back to my poem for a minute. The problems of Cleveland are pretty overwhelming, and you can see a lot of them if you take the rapid from University Circle to the W. 25th street bus. They seem too big to handle from the perspective of just me and my thoughts and feelings. When I look at my city, I can feel frustrated, afraid, or even depressed.

But what does God feel about Cleveland? In most cases, I'm guessing it's something like compassion. I'm sure there are things that make him happy, angry and sad as well, but I think the overriding current is compassion for people who have lost their way. Therein lies the difference between God's thoughts and mine. I see large-scale societal problems that I don't even know how to begin to change, and the result is the overwhelming emotions I've tried to get rid of. God sees the problems and could rectify them instantly, but his heart is for the people. Although he could change things on the grand scale, his method of choice is compassion.

That's why it's so important for us to be in touch with God's heart, not just to know but to feel what he feels. Compassion, it turns out, is not nearly as overwhelming as fixing all the deep-seeded problems that plague my city. Each person I see on my commute through Cleveland is someone God loves, and I can treat them like that. I don't need to analyze so much as I need to feel God's love, and if I have no idea where to start, I can just start where I am. If I can just do that, I can break out of my protective bubble and really start making a difference.

And if we all could do that... who knows what could happen here?

A new beginning, an old name

Today is the first school day in the past 17 years or so on which I can say that I am not a student. I mean, I guess I don't technically graduate for another two weeks, but I've turned in all my work so I'm done. I can't believe it! And may I say, it feels pretty good.


So, in some ways, the inception of this blog marks my transition into what some like to call "the real world," whatever that is. As I exit academia for the time being, though, I find that I have a lot of thoughts stirring inside me that I'd like to share, and I'm hoping that other people might find them interesting. The only way of finding out, I think, is to put them somewhere in the public view and see what happens.


I think I'll begin at what I see as the beginning. If you've known me for awhile, you recognize the name in the url for this blog. I've had that online name for I don't even know how long. So even though this time in my life is a new beginning, I chose to keep it because it really sums up what I want to be, and what I want this blog to be. I'll start, then, with the story of this old name.



I imagine that streetlights are a phenomenon with which most will be familiar, although suburbanites may not have seen one for awhile. The numbers attached, 5814, are the real story here. The reference being made by those numbers is quite literally a reference: Ephesians 5: 8-14. It says:

"For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.
Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. But everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light that makes everything visible. This is why it is said: 'Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.' "

The connection of the verse to streetlights is fairly obvious, I suppose. The passage talks about being a light in the darkness and making things visible, which is obviously what streetlights do. To understand the more personal connection for me, you need to know three things:



1. There is a streetlight directly outside my bedroom window.

2. My house is old and doesn't have AC, so in the summer the windows are always open.

3. I am one of the world's lightest sleepers.



So, in the summertime, all it takes is one gust of wind strong enough to move the curtains for me to have a streetlight shining right on my face, which never fails to wake me up instantly. Wake up, O sleeper! Get it?



In all seriousness, though, I think that God's light has the same effect. I want to bring that kind of light that shocks people awake to my darkened city... The kind of light that makes things visible... The kind that raises the dead. God knows that Cleveland needs it, and he's looking for a generation of these kinds of lights (That's why it's not just a singular streetlight). I'm sure I'll be writing more on that topic later, but for now that's what this whole thing is all about and why I feel the impetus to do this (even though I guarantee that some of my posts will be nothing more than random and nothing short of ridiculous).

A final thought on streetlights to close for today: Recently, Christy Wimber spoke at my church, and she said something (although I don't think she's the original author of it) that I don't think I'll ever forget: "Set yourself on fire, and people will come from miles around to watch you burn." That's how I want to serve God. And it's fitting, because in the early church, Christians really were streetlights in the most literal sense: Nero would coat them in pitch, stick them on posts and light 'em up so people could see at night on the roads. So while I'm not planning to die anytime soon, that kind of radical commitment is inspiring. I'll light up this city whatever way I can.