The End is the Beginning

As I passed week 7 of 10 in this fall quarter, I came to the stark realization that after this quarter, I have only 8 more classes before I am FINALLY finished with my seminary degree. It has been a long hard road, and I still have a year to go, but 4+ years, 2 additional children, and one loss of a mother later, I am coming to the end of this part of my journey.

When I came to that realization today, I felt a little bit of sadness deep down inside. Whenever there is a completion of something, there is always a satisfaction in having accomplished a great feat. At the same time, when so much blood, sweat, and tears have gone into the process, it can be somewhat bittersweet.

I am a Learner. Before I even entered seminary, I was reading 2 to 3 books a week as I tried to learn more about ministry and the different approaches that people have taken in it. I wanted to gain as much insight from as many sources as possible. My reading load has certainly decreased with outside material since enrolling in seminary, but I have still found time to engage in extra-curricular reading. It has been an important part of my formation.

I have met some incredible people in my seminary journey as well. There are a number of guys who I have connected with on a personal and theological level who have meant a lot to me throughout the process. My hope is that those relationships would continue long after we receive our diplomas. When life-giving relationships are found, one would be foolish to simply let them fade away. Like anything else, relationships need fostering to continue and I hope that these relationships continue for a very long time.

When I finish my last course a year from next month, the world will be a very different place than it was when I began. I would like to think that I am not just a little older, but also a little wiser. There are missing pieces from my life, but there are also new areas to explore, new opportunities to seize, and new days in which I can live out the adventure of serving God.

This journey will have required 144 credit hours, 36 courses, two ancient languages, 3 systematic theology courses, 5 Bible survey courses, 100 trips to Glen Arden, Maryland for class, 8 trips to St. Paul, MN, and hundreds of pages of type-written work. There's no way that I would have been able to accomplish any of it if it hadn't been for my amazing wife. She has been tolerant of a lot as I have been somewhat consumed by schoolwork and grades, more so than might be typical. She has faithfully loved me and our children. She has tolerated quizzing me in Hebrew and Greek vocabulary words. She has read hundreds of pages of papers until a trusted friend stepped in to be a great editor (thanks, Tommy). This degree will be as much hers as it is mine.

My children have also put up with a lot. I am hoping that it won't have caused them serious and irreparable damage in the future. By then, my wife may be working as a counselor and should have some good references to refer them to should they have such a need. Kids are resilient, but I will be glad, for their sake, when this is over.

My church has been incredible to me. They have loved and supported me, encouraged me and even tolerated me at times. I think that they have benefitted as well as they have served as a sort of proving ground for all of the things that I have been learning. Somehow or another, those things would work their way into devotionals and sermons that I would be giving. Whether people knew it or not, as I was learning in seminary, they were learning along with me.

Yes, it's been a long strange trip. It's not over yet. While I know that there is so much more learning to be done, I'm pretty sure that my wife would shoot me if I decided to work on degree #4 as soon as this is over. In the meantime, I will finish this one out and when it's all over, I will breathe a deep sigh of relief. What I will have accomplished may not mean much to some others, but to my family and me, it will mean a lot. It will mean a lot because of the price that we paid for it, and when it's over, the time that I will have with them, free from certain distractions, will be priceless. While it is an end of a chapter, it will also be the beginning of many others as well.

A Man and His Dog

I'm a pretty big movie buff, but my life has helped me to put that on hold over the past few years. I still enjoy a good movie, but the theater experience is a commodity these days, one that I don't get to experience as often as I would like. Of course, the cost of going to the theater to see a film rivals dinner at as moderately priced restaurant and when your time and dates are limited, the dinner usually wins out.

All that to say, I generally get a chance to see movies that are mainstream if I have the desire. Red Box and I are friends. I have also grown friendly with my local public libraries which not only give me a good dose of films but also offers them in HD with Blu Ray...for free. Unfortunately though, I movie browse the way that I shop, with an idealistic eye. In other words, knowing that movies are due two weeks later, I somehow always manage to think that I have more time than I really do to watch all of the movies that I check out.

Last time I was at the library, I checked out "Marley and Me." I had heard things about it when it came out, but never had the chance to see it. Frankly, there are some movies of which I know the outcome that are mood pieces, I just need to be in the right state of mind to view them. Tonight felt like the right night to watch "Marley and Me."

Now, I rarely ever go into movies "cold," not knowing the basic premise and plot. "Marley and Me" was no exception. Of course, anyone with kids knows how your perspective changes pretty drastically when you have that as the lens through which you look at life. So, I knew what I was in for, or at least had a vague idea that tears would most likely be involved with the viewing of this movie.

I nearly announced to my wife at the end of the movie, "And that's why we'll never have a dog." Thankfully, sometimes I actually think before I say something. I thought about it and even convinced myself that my mind was made up, but I have lived too much life to really think that I can say "I will never" and actually get away with it. After all, I grew up with a dog.

His name was Smokey. He was a German Schnauzer and we got him from a family in our church. He had had some issues with children in the neighborhood where he used to live, potentially having had them throw rocks and other things at him. He wasn't crazy about kids for that reason, but he took to my brother and I just fine. When my parents discovered that I had allergies, they were glad for a short-haired dog that did not shed. So we kept him.

One time, when we were on vacation, he stayed across town with some friends of the family. Somehow he managed to get loose and make his way across town to our house. Smokey was a smart dog. We always knew that he would come back when we let him outside.

My family went to Florida during a February vacation one year. When we arrived home, we let Smokey out to do what it is that dogs do outside. It was snowing at the time, and he didn't come home. My dad searched and searched. He called for him and heard nothing. This was so unusual. So we waited.

I don't remember exactly how long we waited, but it must have been long enough that winter was gone. One day we got a phone call from another family in our church. The railroad tracks that took trains from New Haven to New York ran behind our house, some kids had spotted a dog that they thought might be Smokey on the tracks. My dad took the call and hopped in his car.

It seemed like among the longest moments in my life. It also may have been the first time that I ever saw my dad cry. I remember that we were standing at the top of the stairs when he came home. I heard the downstairs door shut and there was a pause which seemed longer than usual before I heard the double doors to the upstairs open and heard my father begin to ascend. One look at his face gave us the answer that we had dreaded, the answer that we had hoped and prayed was not true. It was a pretty awful day.

Not too long ago, my dad brought Smokey up in a conversation. He actually mentioned his crying and the heartbreak that he experienced that day. Of course, we have all been through much more since then, but dogs capture your hearts, if you let them. We let Smokey into our home and he did just that, he was part of our family.

I don't know if I will ever agree to let my kids have a dog. As 40 looms in the not-too-distant future, I almost feel as if I would be backtracking. I mean, most people use dogs as their litmus test for kids. If you can take care of a dog, maybe you can take care of a kid. Now that I have 3 kids, getting a dog defeats that purpose. They usually can't let themselves out or feed themselves, no matter how old they get. You still have to get babysitters for them, no matter how old they get.

And one day, when the day arrives for them to come to the end of your life, they tear your heart out because they loved you unconditionally when the rest of the world kept telling you that you never measured up to what they thought you should be. Yeah, I could see myself having a dog, but I don't know if I could handle all that it means. I guess it comes down to whether or not I will believe the words of the great poet, Alfred, Lord Tennyson who said, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

Leadership Change

Theo Epstein, the young general manager of the Boston Red Sox for the last 9 years recently resigned to become president of operations in the Chicago Cubs organization. During his tenure in his position, the Boston Red Sox ended their 86 year drought without a World Series championship by winning the World Series in 2004 and 2007. They were able to acquire many players that were instrumental in making this dream of not only the organization, but many fans, a reality.

Epstein felt the need to expound upon his decision to retire and wrote a piece for the Boston Globe. In his op-ed piece, he wrote:

"Football legend Bill Walsh used to say that coaches and executives should seek change after 10 years with the same team. The theory is that both the individual and the organization benefit from a change after so much time together. The executive gets rebirth and the energy that comes with a new challenge; the organization gets a fresh perspective, and the chance for true change that comes with new leadership. This idea resonated with me. Although I tried my best to fight it, I couldn't escape the conclusion that both the Red Sox and I would benefit from a change sometime soon."

It's an interesting point that Epstein brings up, obviously not one that he came up with on his own as he is quoting Bill Walsh. Is there a time limit to a person's tenure in a specific position? Should everyone follow a set of rules that governs how long they can remain in a specific role and in a specific company?

I think of this in terms of ministry and have seen some pastors remain in churches for 40 years. My own father retired nearly a year ago after having served at the same church for over 36 years. The church where I currently serve had a pastor who had been here for 20 years. If you ask people, I am sure that you would have opinions on both sides of the fence in every situation where a pastor who has had longevity exits.

How about pastors who have been in a position for a short period of time and decide that their tenure has come to an end? I would imagine that there would be people coming down on both sides of this issue as well, some saying "good riddance" while others lament the departure.

Overall, I am not sure that I buy into the idea of a set term. I know that there are some denominations that mandated moves for pastors every certain number of years. My understanding is that those requirements have been loosened a bit in recent years. In my opinion, it's about effectiveness and passion. If a person remains effective and passionate in a specific role, should they be required to leave? Is it possible for someone to still be passionate and effective after a long time in a role?

For those who are in ministry, what safeguards and checkpoints do you have in place that keep you accountable for remaining effective and passionate? More importantly, what people do you have in your life that can ask you the difficult questions about whether or not you are still effective and passionate in your current ministry context? These are important questions and in order to prevent potential issues, we need to be willing to ask these difficult questions of ourselves and have others who are willing to do the same with us.

Any of us who have spent a considerable amount of time in churches have probably seen the good, the bad, and the ugly of ministry. We can probably point to people who had outstayed their effectiveness and their persistence may have caused some difficulties for the congregation that remained. Some of us have probably also seen those who were simply using certain positions as stepping stones, allowing a place to be where they park for a few years while on their way to bigger and grander opportunities. Both of these situations are hard on churches and should be avoided.

Are we willing to ask difficult questions of ourselves and those who are in leadership over us within the church? Are we willing to deal with the discomfort of losing a cherished pastor when their effectiveness has run out? I have also seen instances when a pastor was not necessarily properly confronted on their perceived ineffectiveness. Instead, people went behind their back to begin making adjustments. If we are living up to Jesus' mandate in Matthew 18 to confront people in a proper way, this has no place whatsoever in the kingdom of God.

The bottom line is that any of us who value the Church as the body of Christ, his hands and feet on the earth, need to take this seriously. We need to be willing to allow people to ask hard questions and find the answers, regardless of how uncomfortable those questions and answers might be. Our goal is to be as effective as we can in bringing the message of Christ to the world. The moment that we lose our effectiveness is the moment that we need to ask ourselves what is getting in the way. Are you being effective? Have you outstayed your welcome?

Friends

I meet with a group of guys on Thursday mornings at Panera and we have been going through a book called “The Disciplines of a Godly Man.” The latest chapter was on friends and used the example of Jonathan and David. My mom always used to tell me the story of Jonathan and David from the Bible and tell me that that was where my name came from. She even had a little 45 record with a song called “Jonathan” on it that she would play for me growing up.

As we talked about friends this morning, I really got to thinking about all of the friends that I have in my life. I have been blessed with some great friends who I have known for years. There have also been some others who have felt like old friends even after only a few months or years together. These kinds of friends are invaluable and I can’t even begin to say what they mean to me.

When I was younger and more stupid than I am today, back in my 20s, I actually had the notion that I would stop making friends. I argued that Jesus hung out with 12 friends and only considered 3 of them to be really close. If he could do it, so could I. Of course, it’s never a good thing to justify your stupidity with the Bible…but people do it every day, unfortunately. I announced to my friends that they were among the elite because I would no longer be taking applications for friendship in the “Jon Club.”

Looking back at it, I’m pretty ashamed that I would even have thought those kinds of things. Some of the greatest and most reliable friends that I have were made after my declaration. Thank God that I didn’t follow through with my “brilliant” idea.

As I thought about close friends this morning, there were 5 people that came to my mind. All of them have been there for me in crucial times in my life. Some have rescued me from situations that I had gotten myself into. Some stuck of for me when others were coming down on me. Some were shoulders to cry on. Some offered incredible wisdom, advice, and support in the midst of some very difficult situations in my life. For these 5 men, I am grateful.

I am a fairly introspective person, so ponderings like this can be dangerous for me. As I began to think about these 5 friends, I began to wonder if I have been there for them in the ways that they have been there for me. I would like to think that I have, but I’m not sure.

The thing about good friends is that they don’t keep score. Really true friends are not ones who keep a tally sheet to make sure that they have been getting as much as they have been giving. While they don’t act as doormats, they certainly don’t nitpick about whether they’re being cared for unless there really is an issue.

Good friends are the kinds that you can go for longer periods without talking to and the next time you talk, it feels like no time has passed since the last time. While I regret that I can’t talk to my close friends as often as I would like, I appreciate the fact that they aren’t “high maintenance.”

As much as I keep telling myself that it’s a stage of life, this busy season that I am tangled in, I have to be careful not to use that as an excuse. As rare as friends like these are, friendships are like anything else that grows, they need cultivation, love, and care. While life has a way of getting busy, for everyone, it’s important to take time to appreciate the ones that mean so much to us. Most of us can probably name a few of them.

I’m gonna do my best to let these friends know how much they mean to me. Maybe today is the day that you take the time to remember who it is in your life that you appreciate the most, and let them know. True friendships don’t form in a day, but once they’re formed, they last a lifetime. Who are you thankful for today?

Event or Process

I grew up going to church. My dad was the pastor, so I was there twice every Sunday. I can't say that I was happy about it all the time, or even most of the time, but I was there. That was just what we did. I went through the whole process that my church laid out for me to be a good Christian. I needed to make sure that I "prayed a prayer" and that I invited Christ to come "into my heart." Baptism was a public profession of faith, signifying to everyone who observed that I was committing to walk in the ways of Christ for the rest of my life. I was baptized on Christmas Eve 1980.

Years after I went through all of these processes, I began to ask myself what I really meant when I took part in them. Were they things that I did because that was what was expected of me or because I truly believed that they were the right things to do? Had I embraced a faith that had been spoon fed to me or was I sinking my teeth into it, allowing it to become my own, believing it because I knew deep down in my heart that it was true?

I wrestled with these questions and many more for at least a year. I tried to understand what I believed and why I believed it. When I came to some conclusions, they weren't anything like what I expected they would be and I began to wonder if the language that had been used for so long was somewhat antiquated. Was this really the best way to express a journey of faith?

It seems like evangelicals put a lot of emphasis on a decision or prayer and sometimes forget that any kind of decision or prayer is simply a starting point rather than the end of the experience. I have been reading about bounded sets and centered sets lately. Bounded sets define things by characteristics while centered sets define things by the motion in which these things move, away from or towards the center. Many people have described the notion of "becoming a Christian" in terms of bounded sets, crossing some kind of imaginary threshold which we sometimes treat as the equivalent of drinking a special potion. After this event, we are never the same.

I agree that we are never the same, but I don't believe that we experience overnight success. I'm not sure that I believe those who claim that you do. I'm not sure that the apostle Paul would agree with those who do. If you spend any time whatsoever in his letters, you will see that he speaks frequently about the Christian walk as a journey or a race. Regardless of which it is, there is motion and movement, there is progression. There is no stopping, it's a constant flow. Paul even expressed his struggle with doing things which he know he shouldn't do and avoiding things which he knew that he should do.

When we make the pursuit of Christ about an event rather than a progress, it seems that we put the emphasis on what we are doing rather than what he has done. It seems somewhat ironic to me that some who are so hell-bent on preaching against a works based salvation have become the very thing that they detest when they emphasize the event rather than the process. While they might not admit it, it certainly seems that focus on an event can have a tendency to emphasize my part in the process rather than God's finished and perfect work, accomplished for me, not by me.

Another thing that I think emphasis on the event does is de-emphasize the process and transformation that happens later. Some would consider the event their "get out of hell free" card. They can point to an event but after that, there is not much that distinguishes them from someone who does not believe in Christ. In fact, there may be people who don't acknowledge Christ who show more signs of change and transformation than those people who are basing everything on an event. James writes in his letter that faith without works is dead. If we do not exhibit some kind of life change, does that prayer really matter?

I know that I am far from perfect. Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me can attest to that. At the same time, I think that most of those same people who have known me for any length of time can attest to the fact that I am not the same person that I was. I am different. I am changed. That change is something that has occurred over time and will continue to happen over time. I will not be complete on this side of eternity. I do not make these changes myself but it is Christ in me that allows me the strength to endure.

Forward progression towards the cross is what defines a Christian, not whether or not they show all of the characteristics of being a Christian. While characteristics can be helpful, there are other times when it's hard to distinguish between counterfeits and the real thing. Let your direction be the thing that defines who you are, not an event that was experienced and then forgotten. Meaningful events will have an impact far greater than the span of the event, they will cause a change in direction that continues on, forward towards the center. Let your life be centered on Christ, not focused on an event