The Last Time

In June of 2008, I began my seminary journey.  I was only six months into a new job, had one child with one on the way, and was pretty anxious.  I could do science and math, but a degree using the other side of my brain was fairly intimidating at first glance.  I started off slowly, only taking one class that summer, knowing that I would be behind just as I was getting started.  Ironically, I will actually finish 6 months ahead of some of the rest of my cohort.

I vividly recall being at my parents' house in Connecticut the night before I flew out to Minnesota for my week of intensive classes.  I stood in the room where my son was staying, holding him in my arms, crying because it was the first time that I would be away from him for more than a day or two since he had been born.  I knew God was calling me to the path that I was on, but it didn't stop some of my apprehension and uncertainty from rising up within me.

In order to keep from being away from my family for four weeks out of the year, I decided to sacrifice my Thursday and Friday nights to take classes up in D.C. at the Metro D.C. Center of Bethel Seminary of the East.  Not only would it prevent me from being gone across the country, but it would allow for me to have some classroom interaction for more of my classes.  So, in September 2008, I started my journeys up to Northern Virginia to take classes.

Four years later, my world looks very different.  Some might say that I have been proficient as my one child has turned to three.  My parents moved from Connecticut to Williamsburg and now I have one parent less than before.  Even my dad's health has been failing and my heart has been aching over all that he has been through as well as the inevitable future that I will have to face.

When I first began the classes in D.C., they went from 7PM until 10PM.  It was a two hour drive, so I would usually get home around midnight.  Over the course of these four years, the schedule changed a little bit and professors even made some adjustments so that classes started at 6PM and ended at 9PM.  It's only an hour, but it felt pretty good to get home at a more reasonable hour.

My parents were such good sports when I first started, I would call them after class and chat, mostly with my mom, for the first leg of my trip home.  We would catch up on the day, talk about my class, and just enjoy having the opportunity that was before us.  It certainly helped my travels to feel less burdensome and more enjoyable.

I clearly remember my last Hebrew class when I had a take-home final exam to be completed.  Having spent three hours in the language prior to my trip home, everything felt more fresh than it normally would.  I had gotten about 20 minutes into my trip when traffic stopped...dead.  It wasn't moving at all.  So, I decided to make the most of my time and began working on my final exam.  By the time that traffic let up, I had pretty much completed it.  Not the most opportune time or place to complete the exam, but at least I was done.

Today marks the last time that I will travel up to D.C. for class.  I am filled with bittersweet emotion.  I have made some incredible friends through the program in D.C., a program that is different from my program through St. Paul.  Although I am a minority in my classes, generally being the only white guy in there, I have never felt like anything but family to all of my brothers and sisters with whom I take class.  Not only has the coursework been formative for me, but the experience has been as well.

Tonight, when I walk out of those doors for the last time, I will get into my car and pick up my phone.  My dad and I will talk for a little while and I will be grateful, but there is still a hole in my heart that was left when I lost Mom.  I will drive away from the building and leave it behind, knowing full well that all that took place within those walls has changed me for the better.  I will drive away for the last time.

But the end of one chapter is generally the beginning of another.  I will drive home to my family who I love, one of the greatest gifts that God has given to me.  I will check in on my three kids and pray a prayer over them, thanking God for them and asking that He will continue to draw them close and to use them.  I will kiss my wife who has been a helpmate and support to me through everything that we have experienced over the last 11 years of marriage.

Sure, it's the last time that I'll travel for this class, but my learning doesn't end here, it's just the beginning in so many ways.  As much as I might think I know, I have a whole lot more to learn.  Life changes, we lose the ones we love, we gain new friends, and we are changed ourselves.  I always pray that I can leave a mark on the people that I meet in hopes that together, we can leave a mark on this world.  The end isn't really the end, is it?  Nope, it's just the beginning of something new.

Rethinking Membership

I have been thinking a lot about the idea of membership lately.  I’m reminded of American Express’ slogan, “Membership has its privileges.”  That really works well for a service organization and company like AMEX, but how does that translate to others areas?  In so many ways, our consumeristic society has caused us to view everything as ours for a price.  We come to the conclusion that everything can be bought, and if it can’t, it must not be worth our while.

When I think of membership, I think of country clubs or pool and racquet clubs where a monthly or yearly fee is paid and amenities are enjoyed.  There is very little that needs to be done outside of paying your dues.  Annual meetings may be held, but there may be no membership requirement to actually attend as there is a board of directors which makes decisions on behalf of the membership.  In fact, it’s possible that dues may be paid and one might never even enjoy the benefits and amenities of the club or organization short of simply being able to announce to friends and strangers at parties that, “I’m a member of that club.”

When we enter into a member relationship with the idea that the club or organization that we are joining simply exists to serve us and meet our needs, there is no real relationship, and if it is a relationships, it’s an unhealthy one at best.  Healthy relationships are two-sided, they involve both parties giving and taking alike.  The moment that they become one-sided is the moment that they have ventured into unhealthy waters.  Arguments ensue, feelings are hurt, relationships are dissolved.

In many ways, the idea of membership has connoted the benefits received through membership rather than what is being offered in exchange for the privilege of membership.  Not to be cliché or beat a dead horse, but JFK’s famous quote of, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country” seems somewhat relevant in the face of any organization, club, or country.

The idea of membership seems to have been distorted in the church.  Having grown up within the church, the phrase, “I’ve been a member for (fill-in-the-blank) years…” is never followed by anything positive.  In fact, most of the times that I have heard that phrase, it is generally just an excuse to domineer one’s opinion over others and create some amount of credibility among people that your voice should be heard.  I hold to the same ideology with membership that I do with experience, just as one should never confuse 1 year of experience repeated 40 times for 40 years of experience, neither should one confuse 40 years of membership to being as meaningful as it might sound.

I met with another local pastor a few weeks back and we talked about the church plant that he has been leading over the last few years.  We stumbled upon the topic of membership and he mentioned that they don’t have membership classes but that they have partnership classes.  I stopped to think and realized that the term was much more agreeable to me than membership.  The idea of partnership means commitment, means unity, means joining together for a common goal.  Partnership means that decisions that are made take into account the others who are impacted by those decisions.  Partnership also conveys the idea of ownership, in a good way.

Not too long ago, I read a book by Joshua Harris entitled Stop Dating the church: Fall in Love with the Family of God.  It’s a fairly quick read that gives some good insight into the importance of being a part of a local church body.  While I don’t agree with everything that Harris says, any objections are insignificant compared to the beneficial wisdom that he imparts regarding communities of faith.

Whether you’re part of a club, a church, or any other organization, what’s your view of membership?  Do you look at these things as simply means to serve you and your family, or do you see yourself in partnership with others, seeking the well-being and furthering of the mission of the organization, club, or church that you are a part of? 

I have begun to appreciate more and more the importance of a partnership and ownership mentality towards my church, if you’re not at that place, ask yourself how much you’ve given and how it compares to how much you’ve received.  While I don’t think that relationships should be checked by balance sheets, I do think it’s important to consider that they be two-sided.  Two-sided relationships are the only healthy kinds of relationships that exist, what kinds of relationships are you looking for?

Growing Up By Water

I grew up by the water, always going to the beach.  It’s kind of funny that I wasn’t a better swimmer considering that fact, but as the baby, my mom always made excuses for me using anything from my allergies to my asthma to my often infected ears to explain away my inability to swim well.  She also blamed it on a former church member of my dad’s church who threw me into Long Island Sound from his boat without knowing that I didn’t swim well.  But that’s another story.

When summer hit, Mom was always making her way to the town hall to get her beach sticker.  We would spend many hours at the beach and our church would even have an annual picnic and baptism at the beach.  I have some very fond memories of growing up at the beach.

But it wasn’t just the beach that I frequented, I grew up with three ponds within walking distance of my house.  In fact, one of those ponds was literally in the backyard, right next to our house.  I grew up fishing, ice-skating, and throwing stones.  I remember floating toy boats down the stream that led from one pond to the other.  As we got older, we wouldn’t settle for something as calm as floating the boats down the stream, we instead chose to destroy them with rocks or, better yet, fireworks if we could get our hands on them.

I never knew my dad’s father, but while my dad was in college in South Carolina, he adopted a couple who became surrogate grandparents to my brother and me.  We took many a road trip from Connecticut during the summers growing up to visit our “grandparents.”  My grandpa was always an avid fisherman.  The big question every time we went for a visit was, “When are we going fishing?”  Everything I learned about outdoor sports like hunting and fishing was learned from my Grandpa Deese.

The added bonus of our trips to South Carolina was that fireworks were legal there.  That was fun for us for a while, until my brother nearly turned me into a girl with his bad aim, but that also is another story.

Last night, my father-in-law and I went fishing with my boys on the lake where he grew up.  It’s only a few miles from his house and some of the family still lives on or near the lake.  My boys were so excited to go fishing.  Casting was a bit of a problem, but they were okay letting us do the casting for them as they reeled in the lines.  Sadly, the only fish that was caught was by me and it was a Sunfish, hardly the trophy-winning kind of fish, but I think the boys had fun anyway.  They said that they did.

For those who don’t or haven’t fished, it’s not for those lacking patience or needing constant amusement.  It’s just a lot of waiting.  But that’s half the fun of it, fishing is an experience.  More often than not, stories are generated and told over and over again to friends and family, often with some amount of fabrication to make it more interesting than it really was.  At least that’s the way fishing has always been for me.  It’s never really about how many or how big the fish are, it’s about being together.

All the manly men out there are saying, “That’s the phrase of someone who’s not a good fisher.”  That may be so, but I still stand by the fact that there is something beautiful about sharing such an experience with your kids.  Unplugged from the internet (although I did have my smartphone), no Wii, no computers or televisions, it was just us and the outdoors.  It’s certainly enough to make a person think and appreciate all that he has.

As I went through this experience, so many memories came flooding back into my mind.  It felt like an awakening of sorts, being reminded of the fun and joy that I had when I was younger.  It made me want to run out and buy some fishing rods.  It made me appreciate just what I have in front of me that’s so much simpler than I try to make my life.  Too often, I overcomplicate things when an easy solution is staring me in the face.  Too often, the most fun things in life that make memories are not the ones that cost us a fortune.  Instead, they can be had by simply taking some time and pulling together something as simple as a fishing pole and some worms.

This is the first time in a while that I can say that I have relaxed while visiting family.  It’s not that my family wears me out, it’s just that we always try to do so many things.  This time, our schedule was pretty relaxed, no real agenda, and it’s been fantastic.  I realized how free and open it was when I got an email from someone trying to track me down to get a reference for a friend who is candidating for a new position and I realized that I really didn’t know what my days were going to hold.  Instead of freaking out, like I might normally do, I snickered to myself and enjoyed the ride.

Vacations aren’t really about how much I do, how much I see, how much I eat, or even where I go.  Vacations are really about “vacating,” finding a way to escape, a way to recharge and appreciate the little things in life that get forgotten.  True vacations help us to find that the things that we have been so caught up in are really things that are more insignificant than we let them be.

There is nothing that can compare to the joy in my children’s eyes as they experience some of these things for the first time.  That same wonder and joy are things that I need to remember and recapture myself.  Jesus’ words in Mark 10:15 ring true here, “Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”  The innocence view of a child is exactly what we need sometimes.  The question is, can we stop, unplug, rest, relax, and slow down long enough that we refocus our viewpoint again.  This week has helped me to do that, how about you?  If you’ve not had the chance, find it sooner than later.

A Fun Tradition

Last night, my family celebrated a tradition with my wife’s family.  Every time a cousin gets married, the family comes together to celebrate and have a family pantry shower.  Having lived away from Connecticut for 8 years now, it’s not often that we are able to be at these showers.  But it just so happened that the only time this shower could take place was just a few days before the wedding, which is Saturday.  So, we enjoyed the benefit of coming together as a family.

Eleven years ago next month, my wife and I were the first of the cousins on her dad’s side to get married.  Out of twelve cousins, five have gotten married.  Number six will be on Saturday and number seven will be in September.  This is the advantage to a big family, there’s always something going on and something to celebrate.  Eleven years later, the family looks very different as the five cousins who have gotten married have had kids of their own, adding another ten to the already large number.

There’s just nothing that compares to gathering together as a family.  Not only do all of the cousins get along well, but all of their kids play well together.  There’s a lot of laughter and joking, good food, and an overall great time of celebration.  Of course, this family isn’t like other families.  Over the years, these pantry showers have grown increasingly more embarrassing for the happy couple.  My wife and I felt somewhat relieved tonight that we were the first ones to have gone through this as we watched the soon to be newlyweds awkwardly reading through some cards and opening up gifts.

It’s so hard for me to believe that the wedding on Saturday and the one in September are kids that I’ve known for about 13 years.  In fact, it was through them that my wife and I got together.  My wife and I were friends first and her aunt got the crazy idea that we might develop into something more than that.  She was right.

This pantry shower was at my in-laws house on a deck that was originally built to be used for family gatherings such as this.  I think it started with an engagement party for me and my wife twelve years ago.  That deck has seen a lot of parties, a lot of good times and laughter.  We have celebrated out there and bonded together as a family and last night was no different.

I’ve heard it said that a person can choose their friends but they can’t choose their families.  With the families that we are born into, that’s true, but we certainly have the option of knowing the kind of family that we marry into.  Hopefully, that’s not the main reason we marry.  For me, it was just an added benefit.  I loved my wife first and it just so happened that her family was loving and lovable, so it was a win-win situation for me.

Never once have I felt like an outsider.  Never once have I felt like I was stockpiling mother-in-law jokes or waiting to get away so that I could vent to everyone about how horrible my mother-in-law is.  I can’t say the same for many of my friends, so I consider myself very blessed.

I was not fortunate to have had grandfathers in my life, but my kids have that fortunate pleasure.  It’s a pleasure that I hope we take advantage of as much as possible.  I know how much their grandfathers love them (grandmothers too).  Every time that they spend time with them, they are making memories that will last a lifetime.

My family is precious to me and I am so thankful for them.  I feel so blessed to be part of such a special group of people.  Family events are full of laughter and joy.  There’s no fighting or arguing.  There may be some awkward moments here or there, but that might be due to the presents being opened up at one of these pantry showers.  After all, if the recipients keep some of the things that they receive at these showers in their pantries or kitchens, they might get some strange looks.  Yup, we’re that kind of a family, but you know what?  I wouldn’t change it for the world. 

These are the things that our kids will carry with them for their whole lives.  These are the kinds of traditions that make memories.  I’ve gather a bunch in just twelve short years in the family.  I look forward to the many more that we will make together, loving each other, and laughing together.  I am a blessed man!

A New Beginning

Eight years ago, I began a new direction in my life.  After graduating from Lehigh University in 1995, getting a Master’s degree in Environmental Engineering in 1999, and working in the engineering field for nearly 10 years, I felt God was calling me out of it and into full-time vocational ministry.  On May 30^th, 2004, I was ordained into the ministry at my church in Asheville, North Carolina.

My parents and my brother had made the long trip to Asheville from Connecticut.  My father preached for the service, which was such a privilege for me.  When he was ordained, his uncle, Tucker, whom my second son is named after, preached at the service.  My parents were proud.

Eight years, three kids, two states, and a lost mom later, things look very different than they did that day.  I am approaching the end of my seminary studies and my faith and theology have become even more real to me.  Although I have experienced difficulties and storms, my anchor holds.  While I still maintain my engineering license in Connecticut, there are few days that I really contemplate a change back to things the way that they were.

The big joke with my father when I went off to school at Lehigh was that Jon the Baptist had gone to Bethlehem.  As I told some friends a few weeks ago, it was mildly humorous the first few times, but after exhausting it, as parents are sometimes known to do, it lost its edge.  When my wife and I moved away from Connecticut to North Carolina, we both kept in touch with our families on a regular basis.  I probably talked to my parents on an almost daily basis, always checking in to see how things were going and how they were doing.

Amidst my many phone conversations with my mom, she quoted a verse to me.  Although in my thirties at the time, I was still her baby and I think that I considered some of her doting unnecessary and probably glossed over the verse.  But after hearing it a number of times, I finally asked her what the reference was and she told me Luke 1:14.  It was the words of the angel to Zechariah, John the Baptist’s father.  The angel said, “He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth.”  Shortly after I had inquired as to the verse, my mom gave me a small frame for my desk.  She was gifted in calligraphy and she had written up a verse. 

That framed verse still sits on my desk at the church.  It’s a constant reminder to me of all of this.  It’s a reminder to me of where I have come from, the journey that has brought me to the place where I am today.  It’s a reminder of what’s been left behind.  But more importantly, it’s a reminder to me of what’s ahead.  My mom was always proud of me and she never hesitated to tell me that.  She would mention it often enough that it was hard for me to forget it.  In many ways, the verse is a reminder to me of her as well.

But the verse also stands as a challenge to me.  I am not perfect, I make many mistakes, but this verse is a reminder to me of my calling, of my responsibility to the people that I come in contact with.  I hope and pray that people can say that I have been a joy and a delight to them, I know that my parents can and could.  The words of the verse are strong though, many will rejoice because of his birth.  I can think of a few people who probably wish that I had never been born, but I can think of many more who have encouraged me with kind words, thoughtful notes, and incredible gifts who I would like to think have been blessed by what God has offered through me.  Everyone’s got their haters, and I am no exception, but I also know that there are many people who are thankful that God has brought me into their life.

Once in a while, when I’m feeling full of myself, I’ll tell someone that everyone needs some Jon Gibson in their life.  While I’m usually saying it “tongue and cheek,” I hope and pray that what I can offer to people is something that will change them for the better, not because of who I am, but because of what God has done in me and through me.

My constant prayer is that God can use me to be a joy and a delight, not only to my parents, but to anyone who God puts in my path.  I pray that many will rejoice because of my birth, not because I am so wonderful, but because I serve a wonderful God who uses simple people to accomplish His will.  The words from Isaiah 61 that my mom had on her nightstand when she died are appropriate here.  Verse 3 ends with these words, “They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”  That is my prayer, may God use me to be just that.  Amen.

Stars

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I’m technically on vacation.  I’m not one who easily detaches from all of the things from which I should be vacating.  But I find that I really need to disengage sometimes, just sit still and wait.  It’s too easy to get caught up in rushing around, trying to get things done and thinking that I’m actually the one who’s controlling all of my circumstances.  It’s easy to be delusional.

As I sat out on my driveway last night, looking up into the sky, it was quiet and dark.  I couldn’t count the stars, there are too many of them for me to pursue such an undertaking.  I didn’t even try to imagine what they were made of or how far away they were.  I actually found myself thinking back to a passage in Isaiah 40.  Many people think of Isaiah 40 and it conjures up images of an eagle because there are verses from which many derive great comfort and hope as they imagine themselves as those who are waiting upon the Lord, being raised up with wings as eagles.

But that wasn’t the passage that I was thinking about.  I was actually thinking of the verses that fall earlier in the chapter, verses 25 and 26, which read, “To whom will you compare me?  Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One.  Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these?  He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name.  Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.”

I find myself presuming that I understand more than I really do.  I can think that I have more wisdom and knowledge than I really do.  If I have learned anything during my time in seminary, it’s that I still have so much more to learn.  A friend said it well the other day, he has discovered just how much he doesn’t know as he has journeyed along through seminary.  And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that acknowledgement.

At the end of the movie “Grand Canyon,” a seemingly unrelated group of characters has come together through circumstances beyond their control.  They have traveled to the Grand Canyon and as the camera pans away, they all look down upon the vastness that is the Grand Canyon.  They seem so small as the camera slowly pulls away to reveal just how grand the Grand Canyon is.

The movie doesn’t necessarily end on a happy note, insinuating that we are simply cogs in a giant system that is far out of our control.  I think God’s word through Isaiah gives a clearer and more hopeful picture.  We may seem small, like cogs in a large machine, but each and every part is important and significant.  If any of those parts were missing, the machine would not be able to perform the function for which it was made.

God understands the inner workings of the machine; he knows each and every part.  He has placed each part there just as he has placed every part there just as he has placed each star in the sky.  While we may look up at the sky with awe, wonder, and amazement, overwhelmed at the vastness and expanse of it, God has not only hung each of the stars there, but he has called each of them by name.  Not one of them burns out or falls without his knowledge.  Aren’t we more important than the stars?  Aren’t we made in the very image of God?

Realizing the sheer immensity of the universe could easily cause one to dwell in doom and gloom, left to feel insignificant in comparison to such greatness, but God shows us a deeper sense of purpose, if we are willing to stop and listen.

I can make every effort and attempt to compare God to what I know, but I will come up short every time.  He is the one who hung the stars in the sky.  He is the one who has called them out by name.  Not one of them moves, fall, or burns out without his knowing about it.  I can barely remember the things that I need to do today and yet I presume that I know better than the One who holds all this in his hands.

Next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, take time to look up at the night sky.  You will feel insignificant, but I hope and pray that you would eventually find purpose.  The God of the universe who created all things has hung stars and knows their every move, surely he cares about you and me as well.