Seminary Update

One artist's rendition of the perennially popular
four horsemen of the apocalypse - or at least their horses.

I'm wrapping up my latest seminary class, the fourth in a series of Bible survey courses.

Still have to go back and take number three, a gallop through just four books, the Gospels. From the syllabus it looks like these are taught through a method that mashes them together in a chronology. I don't quite approve... Luke's purpose and narrative are not Mark's - shouldn't they be read as literature and theology more than as history? On the other hand, as each class has brought surprises and deepened my appreciation for the scriptures and how to understand them, so I have enough faith to sign up for Bible 5132 and look at the Gospels, too, through new eyes.

Meanwhile, I'm finishing "Acts to Revelation: God's People Proclaiming Redemption Globally."

Perhaps the most helpful discipline has been an assignment, for each book we cover, to read it through in one big gulp, then again more slowly looking for insights in every chapter. What's your takeaway? What leaps off the page, challenges you, what do you want to hold on to, to chew on and digest and make part of yourself? Reaching the end of the course I realize I've made a list of 171 such things - a rich collection of mini-sermons from the Holy Spirit to myself. Also included in the class assignments are my observations on each book's purpose, atmosphere, and contribution to a theology of global mission. (Here's the assignment.)

Sure ending with a bang. Revelation is a shocking book, full of contrasts and symbols. Prophetic-apocalyptic writing is like the genre of magical realism, like dreaming with your eyes open. It's hard to know where it crosses the line between description and metaphor, but some of the language could not be other than figurative. For example, when John describes locusts that look like horses but have human faces, womanly hair, and are wearing crowns, I realize we aren't supposed to keep our eyes open for horsy locusts - he's talking about something else. But what? 

After we study each book on our own, it's time for online lectures, chiefly narrated PowerPoint presentations. They are quite helpful. Lot of background. Less dogmatic than I expected. My professors and text-book authors seem glad to let each book sing in its own key without attempting to simplify them overly or and force them to support a certain doctrinal structure. They present a variety of views and let us know which one they find most convincing but often require us to pick teams. At some point I am sure I'll run into professors who do, but not yet.

I like some healthy ambiguity, though there's such a thing as too much. Recently heard someone tell the story of his attempts to be ordained in the denomination of his youth - one that has drifted a bit from its early moorings as a movement promoting holiness. They asked him, "What did Jesus mean when he said he was the way and the truth and the life?" My friend tried to couch his answer in terms that the examiners would accept ("to speak 'Liberal,'" he told me) but was unable to do so. "I like to think of God as 'Delicious,'" said one of them. "We may not be talking about the same God at all. But your idea of God is Delicious, and my recipe is as well."

As I understand the Bible, though, it teaches that God is a person and he reveals himself to us. Though we may see and understand different aspects of who he is, it is not up to us to write the recipe, to decide what we want him to be like.   

An Engineer's Guide to the Grocery Store

Here's the method of grocery shopping which I learned from my parents:

If there was something we were out of, something we needed or wanted, one of them would say (sometimes with a tinge of impatience) "Put it on the list!" There was always a grocery list, and it was usually posted, quite logically, on the refrigerator door.

We were also encouraged to make note of the item desired by adding it to more or less the right part of the list, which was composed in "grocery store order." You see, as long as the produce items were listed before dairy and meat, or frozen foods before bread, the shopper can proceed through the store in a smooth and orderly way.

And of course, one would never want to show up at Thriftway without the shopping list in hand. Certainly, you wouldn't just drop in because you were hungry!

Hubs laughed when I tried to explain this system to him. Can you imagine? "Sounds like something a couple of engineers would come up with!" he said.

OK, yes, I do come from a family of engineers and mathematicians. Maybe that's where I get my skills in research, copy-editing, fact checking, code-cracking and puzzle-solving. Not that I always use those skills, but I can pull them out when needed.

There's a strong streak of creativity in my family, too. Sometimes we do make things up as we go. And by nature I think I'm less systematic than some of my kin. That is to say, I like to develop systems and processes, but I constantly tweak them and sometimes mix things up just for fun.

You know, go into the grocery store and turn right instead of left. Do my shopping clockwise one week, and counter-clockwise the next!

Q: Do you shop more systematically or more impulsively?

Did you know?

1. That we all need more drugs?

I don't get many comments here, but most of those that come through are in the form of spam. Actually, an avalanche of spam. Rather depressing. The spammers (at least) seem to be mostly concerned with what they consider our real problem, a lack of medication. And, ready to help, they suggest purchasing our medications from their own sketchy sources. Guess I can be glad that though my life has its darker moments, I don't require prescription drugs, eh? A shout-out to those who do, though. Sorry about that.

2. That resuscitation isn't what it used to be?

I'm also thankful that most of us do not require the professional services of the fire department. I do enjoy getting the inside scoop on their operations, courtesy of my EMT husband and the scanner I usually listen to when he's off on a call. Lately they've been practicing a new form of CPR. The old system gave you about a 6% chance of survival. (Kind of grim. Didn't tell you that in first aid class, did they?) This method, at least if conditions are right, can up your odds to 50%. Go for it, guys!

Did you also know that they practice chest compressions with the aid of a metronome - or, during drills, a sound track? Songs with a rate of 100 beats per minute preferred. "Stayin' Alive" is a popular choice, and more encouraging than the otherwise equally effective, "Another One Bites the Dust"!

3. That another superpower is having an election this week, too?

It isn't an election in the same sense of the word, I suppose. But the Communist Party of China is having its National Congress in Beijing, and there there will finalize selection of new leaders, particularly the 300 members of the party's Central Committee. The national congress only happens once every ten years, so it's kind of a big deal. China's current president Hu Jintao (who holds several titles), will be announcing his successor. Vice President Xi Jinping is expected to take over as president in March.  

Unwrapping the Gift of Restlessness

I'm working on a quick review of the book Kingdom Journeys: Rediscovering the Lost Spiritual Discipline. The gist of the book is that most of us, especially the young, are at some point given a Gift of Restlessness ("God's call to leave everything") in order to seek out experiences of initiation - to leave behind the known and comfortable, go somewhere new, and wrestle with issues about identity, purpose, and meaning.

The author advocates seeking out encouraging such physical-spiritual pilgrimages, and tells hundreds of stories of people who saw their lives turned upside down (for the better) because of them.

Maybe it's a sign of my middle-agedness or lack of an adventurous soul, but I'm questioning some of the basic ideas he presents. I think I can give it a positive review but with reservations. I agree that we grow more from experiences, especially those that take us into new situations, than from sitting somewhere in a classroom and being taught. I know from personal experience what great things can come from facing the challenges and ambiguity of navigating a different culture. I'd certainly say that many of life's greatest lessons require dying to self, experiencing pain, and walking with others through suffering and loss. But to what extent should we advocate actively seeking out such things, along with adventure and danger, versus responding with courage when God calls or brings them to us? I think Seth overstates his case with his claim that everyone needs to do this, that the best way to grow is to get up and leave all you know.

Hmmm... I need to ponder this more.

A good friend of mine just told me of a recent traumatic experience she had attending a training that  required participants to stay in a sleazy hotel infested with bedbugs and located in a neighborhood known for drugs and prostitution - apparently to simulate conditions in which typical participants may find themselves down the road (though I don't think that assumption is accurate).

If your goal is to have people internalize a message and learn a skill, I think you should do your best to make sure that the emotional impact of those things exceeds the emotional impact of the travel, living conditions, etc. - since those things are not the point. Yes, God may want to use that kind of hardship to get through to someone but I'm not sure we should be bringing such things on ourselves or engineering them for someone else.

Well. Here's what the author of Kingdom Journeys says to look for in a mission/travel pilgrimage, a "Kingdom Journey." How many of these items would be on your list? Should they be? Brace yourself, my non-Christian friends, 'cause this is going to make us look like a cult.

In looking at a program, the author says, be sure to ask questions like these:

Abandonment:

• Will the program force me to abandon my comfort zones?
• Will I be gone long enough for abandonment to sink in?
• Will I have a coach who will push me to leave and separate from the people and activities that have defined me at home?
• Will I have a community that will encourage me on my journey?
• Will I be challenged by other cultures and different ways of living?
• Will I receive feedback about what I need to leave?

Brokenness:

• Does the program encourage brokenness?
• Will I have a coach who will push me to embrace my pain and not give up?
• Will the journey bring me to those with huge needs: the poor, the sick, the oppressed, and the hungry?
• Will I be able to use my brokenness to help others?
• Will I have to surrender my rights and expectations?
• Will it emphasize getting over my needs to serve other people's needs?

Dependence:

• Will I be required to depend on God for food, shelter, or money?
• What basic necessities will I have to struggle for?
• In what ways have past participants seen their faith in God grow?
• How will I be forced to grow in my trust of God?

Feeding a family - tensions in the kitchen

Food & Family, Then:

When we were little, my sister and I liked to play with food. Did you? Not just constructing things out of mashed potatoes, I mean, but elaborate games. We built pretend salads on the sidewalk out of dandelions ("chop suey!" we'd pronounce it) and hosted "restaurants" for each other, with menus made of construction paper and crayons; order anything that sounds good to you. The trial and error of it taught us a few things about what goes together and what doesn't.

We started learning how to cook and bake at an early age and took pleasure in whipping up our own hot cocoa or macaroni and cheese from scratch. We transformed hot dogs into alligators, with gaping "mouths" and cloves for eyes. We popped popcorn, we made nachos, cinnamon toast, pancakes, biscuits, grilled cheese. As the years went on, more complicated things.

We also grew up with lots of fruit and vegetables, often from our own garden. You could often find one of us grazing in the cherry tomatoes, snap peas, or berries. I know there were battles, in our house, over food - particularly the matter of cleaning one's plate. But I have a hard time understand why some people don't like vegetables; we always had them and they were great.

My parents did not want to have a lot of processed food in the house; homemade was best. And not a lot of sweets; Mom didn't like to be tempted (nor do I, now). But we had banana bread, and sometimes homemade ice cream, and Meg and I liked to make cookies, puddings, or cakes. We also learned how to make ordinary foods sweeter. Jam on eggs, jam on toast, jam on a grilled cheese sandwiches (a favorite - you should try it!). And who needs flavored yogurt when you can make your own? Jam again, or fruit, or lemon juice and honey. We sprinkled sugar on our egg "pancakes," and made cinnamon toast, and the little cinnamon-sugar roll-ups out of extra pie crust.

*     *     *

Food & Family, Now: 

I think a lot about food these days; I'm the primary person in our house who budgets, shops, cooks, serves, cleans up. What do we need? What do we want? It's all so different than when I was just answering those questions for myself, and a relatively small proportion of what's in the kitchen will be for my own consumption.

Ever since the text message we got on the honeymoon (that daughter H. was going on a radical diet and would require completely different meals starting our first day back) feeding the new family has been a challenge. I admit there are many advantages to coming into family life when everyone and everything is so well established. The kids are mostly grown, and our daughter is pretty much out of the house now. Parenting skirmishes are fairly few and far between and not mine to fight.

But every now and then I feel a little sad at the death of one or another of the little ways I thought I'd do things if I had my own family, and some of them have to do with food. Such an emotional thing.

It's a little late to introduce new things and have much influence over their tastes. It's not just food, but lots of other household things too, as well as light, noise, and temperature. I'm amazed how many things we're worked through to arrive at satisfactory conclusions. Hubs and I were just talking this morning about how frequently, since we got together, we have seen and continue to see the hand of God at work in our lives, working out things beyond our control, leading us. So much has worked out so well!

But there is some loss, and I feel it. I'm sad our kids have no interest in dyeing Easter eggs, carving pumpkins, or putting up the Christmas tree and stockings. Hubs doesn't either. I have to decide if I'm going to do those things on my own, or put them aside, like singing, and reading aloud, and other things that used to be part of my life but are not anymore. Who knows, maybe there will be grandkids someday will want to share some of those traditions I enjoyed with my family and with other housemates and friends in the years since then.

When it comes to mealtime, young D. is a deeply conservative sort, suspicious of what is off-brand or unfamiliar (though sometimes motivated to attempt an experiment of his own choosing). Still prefers not to mix foods on his plate but will dish up just one thing at a time. I respect him too much to force the issue. Respect, appreciation, and affection for both Hubs and our son exceed my desire to introduce them to new things, things they might like or might be better for them. I push a little; we don't have the time and money for everyone to get just what they want. But I learn to shop and cook with what they want in mind. Including the things about which they feel nostalgic. Some of which I've come to like as well.

Bit by bit I'm also learning to reassert some of my own preferences, to feed myself the way I like to be fed without resentment or coercion of the others. I can't eat like a growing, teenaged scholar/athlete, or a man of more than 15 stones. Our needs are different, as our tastes are too.

As I reflect on these dynamics of our blended family, I'm reminded that every family, even those "begun" by a couple of 20-somethings from similar backgrounds who (unlike us) have never been out on their own, requires some process of blending. Almost nobody who comes into a family - or even into a marriage or partnering relationship - with carte blanche to live out all their childhood dreams or plans for what their family is going to be like. And biological children, coming into the family as infants, surprise their own parents by defying assumptions, plans, or expectations. 

The Knack

Doctor: "It's worse than I feared."
Mother: "What is it?"
Doctor: "I'm afraid your son has ... the Knack."
Mother: "The knack?"
Doctor: "The Knack. It's a rare condition characterized by an extreme intuition about all things mechanical and electrical ... and utter social ineptitude."
Mother: "Can he lead a normal life?"
Doctor: "No. He'll be an engineer."
Mother: "Oh, no! [crying]"
Doctor: "There, there. Don't blame yourself."

Source: "Dilbert" animated TV show, season 1, episode 9
(Curious? find clips online or watch the whole thing on Netflix)

How is it that some people can go to a place once and know how to find it again, while others regularly miss turns to get to their own houses or workplaces? Is it a matter of "knack"? Why do some learn the rules of writing and expression, or science and logic - retaining and applying those standards with a high level of consistency - while others never seem to grasp or internalize them? Concentration and persistence can overcome many a weakness, but most of us will only persevere in the areas where we expect to find success - in the areas of our strengths.

The sad part is this: Why do we have such a hard time resisting the urge to defend our gifts while denigrating those of other people? Why are we so tempted to look down on those who have talents that differ from our own, or mock those who struggle with what we see as simple?

Hubs showed me "The Knack" episode when I expressed surprise that his technological abilities are based less on knowledge than... magic. He doesn't always know how our stuff works and he can't teach me, but his intuition tends to be spot-on when we are dealing with anything sporting a battery or power cord.

Since my knacks lie in different areas (and probably because I'm a sinner), I'm tempted both to envy and to slyly undermine his abilities. I try to remember it's in everyone's best interest that I appreciate them and offer praise and affirmation instead.

I bought a new printer-scanner-photocopier for work and left it in the box for several weeks. When I finally tried to set it up I faced two hours of frustration trying to get it to work. I read all the instructions and studied the diagrams but could not get the ink cartridges inserted properly. "They're upside down," said Hubs, solving the problem in two minutes. You'll be glad to know I didn't hit him.

So. I think appreciating other people may be more important than figuring out your own best fit. Though many of us fall pretty far short in the latter, as well. And that can hamper us from living a fruitful and satisfying life. One's own soul is worth exploring.

Make a careful exploration of who you are
and the work you have been given,
and then sink yourself into that.
Don’t be impressed with yourself.
Don’t compare yourself with others.
Each of you must take responsibility
for doing the creative best you can
with your own life.

Galatians 6:4-5 (as rendered in Eugene Peterson's The Message)

Recently I started doing some writing/editing for a website/ministry called AskaMissionary.com. My work is fairly invisible at present. Give it some time and I think you'll see the quality and consistency of the contents creeping up. (I have a knack...)

The basic idea is that people who think they want to be missionaries come to the website with their questions, and people who are (or have been), answer them. And the best thing is that when all goes as it is supposed to, they don't get just one perspective, but several.

Rather than populating the database with endless variations of a question we try to steer the reader towards similar queries, only adding new questions and answers when we think they enrich the whole thing (though everybody gets a personalized response, directly).

Think of it as a Dear Abby for the missions world.

In conversations with mission recruiters I had heard that more and more potential missionaries are starting their inquiries with questions about whether or not they can use their college degree or specific skill in missions, and if so, where and how. Others, maybe younger or earlier in the process, are asking what kind of education or career they should pursue if they want something that can be used on the field. That sounds a little better; it may suggest openness and willing to do what is most needed, or it may point to a lack of self-knowledge and "calling." Hard to say.

Many of the questions that come into askamissionary.com are right along those lines - people trying to figure out if there's a place for them. "I am interested in studying optometry," asks an 18-year-old from Texas. "Will this be useful in the mission field? In what ways, if so?"

Oftentimes I can think of someone I know or have heard about who is using that exact skill in their ministry. In this case, John, our big ally in the medical world, was ready with a pithy response. He said:

Optometry is wonderful on short-term missions trips. For examples see (link to The Fellowship of Christian Optometrists). But almost everyone I know who does full-time healthcare missions overseas is in another specialty. We have answers online on that. Please click on the below question links to read those answers:

• What is the most needed medical specialty on the mission field?
• I’m just beginning university and I’m interested in healthcare. Do you recommend I become a physician, nurse, nurse practitioner or physician’s assistant?
• I’m just beginning university and I’m interested in healthcare. How could I use overseas physical therapy, occupational therapy, pharmacy, community development or public health?

...Do we publish their correspondence or not? I'm not sure. As I said, we don't think we should add every new question that comes in. We may already have enough content on medical missions.

Anyway, I want to push back. Here's why.

I think "knack" is at least as important as training or credentials. Many people minister more out of their life experiences, convictions, and personal interests than out of the kinds of things that make it onto a resume. And, as theologian Frederick Buechner said, “Vocation is where our greatest passion meets the world's greatest need.”

I also have a hunch that calling and flexibility trump them all. Life on the field is full of twists and turns. Most people doing work wrapped up in the mission of God end up doing something different from what they told themselves or their parents or supporters, what they heard from the recruiter, or found on the job description.

Nothing new with that. Didn't Jesus invite prostitutes and tax collectors into service that had nothing to do with sensuality or extortion? When he mobilized fishermen, didn't he tell them to drop their nets and work as evangelists ("fishers of men") and give a doctor (Luke) a job as a storyteller? Wonder what Luke's parents, if they were still alive, thought about that one? ("After all we sacrificed, you're going to throw it all away to become a writer?!") Jesus himself was trained as a carpenter but considered himself a shepherd and teacher instead.

As the fishermen's story suggests, many re-purpose their skills rather than discarding them.

Work is good, even holy. But let's not take our careers (or ourselves) too seriously. Let's hold our college degrees and job descriptions lightly. I know it's hard. Titles and salaries and performance get so easily intertwined with our sense of identity. No matter what our job, no matter what our knack.

See also: On Mission in an Uncertain World (Missions Catalyst) and Gift-Based Ministry Mobilization (previously on Telling Secrets).

Tudor House (with Mod Cons)

Just got back from two days of travel - a trip to Anchorage, Alaska, and back.

Arrangements had been made for me to stay at a bed and breakfast. It was a pretty fancy place. Almost offensively so. Lace doilies, little lamps, china knick-knacks on every possible surface. Warm rooms with thick soft rugs and king-sized beds. Somewhere, a hot tub. Wireless internet, a common room with overstuffed sofas and a well-stocked entertainment center; someone was watching the presidential debate there when I arrive. A generous breakfast was served in the morning on fancy gold-rimmed dishes with an abundance of sparkling utensils.

But the place was supposed to evoke a "Tudor inn." Even knowing as little as I do about 15th and 16th century England, I'd have to give it low points for authenticity.

Shouldn't there be rushes on the floor? Stools and benches instead of sofas and easy chairs? Waxy candles and not chandeliers? Chamber pots instead of modern plumbing? Bread and ale for breakfast, and probably several people to a bed?

On second thought, maybe I shouldn't complain.