Second Drafts

A Response to International Burn-a-Koran Day

There are plenty of things to be said about the ridiculous Burn-a-Koran Day planned for September 11th, but none of my words are as kind and respectful as these from Nelson Jennings, Covenant Seminary professor of World Mission. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, Dr. Jennings has initiated with those planning the event, following up with this letter in the past week. I commend it to you and encourage you to pray for the situation.

Dear Dr. Terry Jones and Members of the Dove World Outreach Center,

As I previously indicated to you both by email and over the phone, I recently became aware of your “International Burn a Koran day,” scheduled for September 11. You have publicly announced the event, and urged others to participate, through your church’s website and through a specially created Facebook page. As the Facebook page puts it, “On September 11th, 2010, from 6pm - 9pm, we will burn the Koran on the property of Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville, FL, in remembrance of the fallen victims of 9/11 and to stand against the evil of Islam. Islam is of the devil!” The scheduled event is receiving widespread attention, and various people are expressing their opinions and intended responses.

Relations today between people who are Muslims and people who are Christians are of extraordinary importance – including in an unprecedented way those of us in the United States of America. People’s beliefs about God and salvation are at stake, as are the well-being of local communities, societies, and international relations between countries. It is within this extraordinary situation that you, together as a Christian pastor and as an expressly Christian community, have taken the initiative to conduct, publicize, and invite participation in what can only be called – too mildly or too extremely, depending on one’s perspective – such a provocative event as this “International Burn a Koran day.”

In response to this event that has been scheduled by other Christians in the United States, that has been publicized within today’s extraordinary situation of Muslim-Christian relations, and to which I and others have been invited to participate, I believe that it is incumbent on me as one Christian leader serving a portion of the wider Christian community to issue a public response. (Please note, however, that this response is my own; I am not serving as a spokesperson for any church or organization.) My response consists of the following points:

1. I agree with you that human beings’ salvation from sin and hell, as well as to eternal life with the living and triune God, is through faith alone in Jesus Christ alone.
2. I commend you for your concern for and solidarity with fellow Christians worldwide.
3. I respect the time-honored freedom of speech and expression guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution.
4. I encourage only peaceable responses toward you – i.e., against Dr. Terry Jones, members of the Dove World Outreach Center, or others who are in agreement with your religious beliefs about Islam – insofar as you do not cause immediate threat to others of bodily harm or damage to personal property.
5. I realize that there are complexities beyond the scope of this short response in the enormous and worldwide matter of Muslim-Christian relations, particularly those associated with the interrelationship between religious and societal/governmental concerns.
6. I realize as well that there are deep emotions – associated with both religious and social/national identity – over the events of September 11, 2001 in particular and Muslim- Christian relations in general.

At the same time, I espouse the following beliefs that contradict reasons for the scheduled Qur’an burning:

1. Christians, whether individually or organized, should eschew violent and inflammatory actions taken as Christians against anyone – particularly violent and inflammatory actions taken in the name of, and with the alleged support of, expressly religious teachings.
   
   • Using proper force, including violent force, is a God-given prerogative of certain societal and governmental authorities (including Christians serving in those roles), not of Christians (or members of any other religious tradition) as individual or organized Christians (or as members of any other religious tradition).
   • Violent and inflammatory actions taken for expressly religious purposes usually (often unwittingly) support other, non-religious interests, for example political, ethnic, and economic interests.
2. Christians, while devoted to the overall well-being of the local communities, countries, and world of which we are members, must be able to differentiate between (although not totally separate) our devotion to the wider, international Christian community and our devotion to our local communities, countries, and world. Similarly, Christians must be able to differentiate between (although not totally separate) the actual interests of the wider, international Christian community and those of our various local communities, our countries, and of the entire world. I believe that, in particular, you fail properly to differentiate between devotion to, as well as the actual interests of, the wider Christian community and the United States of America, for example in the statement on “The Church Must Take Action”.
3. Christians must not simplistically categorize Islam, whether uniquely or together with other religious traditions, as “of the devil.” Instead, Christians should see non-biblical religious traditions as a combination of human aspiration for the Creator God, sinful rebellion against that same Creator God, and satanic deception. Not only is it therefore overly simplistic and reductionist to categorize Islam or any other religious tradition by reference to less than all three of these aspects, but doing so is also insulting, derogatory, and unnecessarily inflammatory toward fellow human beings, fellow bearers of God’s image, and fellow citizens of local communities, countries, and the world.

As I consider all of the statements above, I am firmly persuaded:

1. To urge you to cancel, as well as apologize (with an explanation so that, as much as possible, you are not unfairly misunderstood) for the scheduling and publication of, the planned public Qur’an burning;
2. Not to participate in the event (if it takes place), as well as to urge others not to participate in any such event.
3. To encourage you and other Christians to seek constructive relations with people who are Muslims on individual, local community, national, and global levels. Such constructive relations, I believe, are evangelistic, peaceful, and cooperative.

Much has been written elsewhere concerning these various points, and there is much more to discuss. I welcome constructive interaction with you and others who are interested.

Respectfully,

J. Nelson Jennings
St. Louis, MO

Five Years Later

Here are a few shots from Covenant Seminary's 2010 graduation, in which I earned my second masters, this one in educational ministries. Here I'm receiving my diploma from seminary president Bryan Chapell while commencement speaker Alistair Begg looks on):

With professor Jerram Barrs (I was Jerram's teaching assistant for a year-and-a-half and love him dearly):

With Dr. Donald Guthrie, lead professor of Covenant's education program (I am the Padawan learner to his Jedi knight):

With Dr. Bob Burns, professor of educational leadership and an elder at our church:

With Tom Rubino, with whom I started summer Greek in 2005 and at last finished in 2010 (Tom earned his M.Div. and M.A.C. (counseling) degrees). It meant a lot to both of us to start and finish together.

And of everyone at commencement, here are the five who matter most (thanks, ladies):

It is finished.

Let the Commencin' Begin

I finished my last seminary class on Monday with my Educational Capstone portfolio and presentation. Unless I hear differently between now and then, I'm set to graduate from Covenant with my Masters in Educational Ministries (for those keeping score, I graduated last year with a Masters in Theological Studies).

Five years - that's how long all this has taken. When people ask if I'm planning on going for a Ph.D., my answer is standard: "I'd love to (and I really would), but only if someone else is paying for it." (Feel free to submit all benefactor/patron/Sugar Daddy offers in the comments below.)

As a way of bringing some initial closure to my seminary days (and as some pre-celebration before graduation on Friday), here's my final reflection paper from my Capstone project. For what it's worth...

In considering my Educational Capstone experience, my feelings are mixed, though not in an altogether negative way. As was intended, I can vouch for having a sense of accomplishment from looking back over coursework from my education career at Covenant. I can also give testimony that the portfolio concept of review intended to capture and showcase such accomplishment is good and one I enjoyed very much. That said, my mixed feelings regarding the Capstone stem from my own imagination of how much more this final seminary class could have been had I not been so involved in, well, my education career.

Reading through my portfolio, one thing I consider a huge strength of my Educational Capstone experience has been my opportunity to be an education student while working as a full-time teacher. The benefits of having a hands-on, ready-made laboratory of learning are innumerable and really comprise the theme of my enclosed book, Learning Education: Essays and Ideas from My First Three Years of Teaching. It’s been a great opportunity and a real advantage for a multitude of reasons in my time finishing my education degree.

However, I can’t help but wonder how my experience might have been different without being a teacher while taking the course. Had I been a full-time student (rather than a part-timer perpetually scrambling to make time to attend class meetings and complete various stages of work on assignments and projects), I wonder what different themes might have been more dominant in my encounter otherwise. It’s not that I regret the challenges of the past three years, but I do wonder if/how I would have learned and applied the theories, concepts, and applications of Christian education differently if I weren’t so desperate to use them immediately on a weekly/daily basis.

In looking back through assignments, reflections, concept maps, outlines, and notes for my project, the general sense I had was that, because of my life situation (full-time teacher, part-time student), I probably rushed through absorbing many of the conceptual and technical theories in order to get to the application of them as quickly as possible. In other words, it’s not that I don’t understand many of the presumptions behind Christian education, but I don’t feel they are as much in the forefront of my mind as I would like since I’ve had to focus so much on doing the actual work of educating throughout my time.

Thankfully, I realize that none of this is without potential amendment, and I am certainly willing and able to design a summer course of my own to review what I may have been forced to hastily read and try to understand (and I did read, by the way, every assignment with highlighter in hand). The question, of course, is will I this summer? And if not this summer, this year? And if not this year, then when?

But here is where the two main points of what I’ve learned in my course of study – God as Master Teacher and Teacher as Learner – bring comfort and hope. While my formal degree program of study may be coming to a close, God’s program of study continues, and if I am at all “smokin’ what I’m sellin’” when it comes to teaching and my passion for it, I do not doubt that my study of all things education is still really just beginning.

As I know to be true (academically as well as experientially), we tend to learn when we’re curious, and even writing about my curiosity of what I may have not fully grasped makes me want to start all over again in two weeks with Michael Anthony’s Introducing Christian Education to figure out the questions to the answers for which I’m looking. This, I suppose, is the fun part about the field of education – the accepted default is not that one has learned all one needs to, but that one has learned much about all there still is to learn – and this is the sense I have finishing my degree, which seems good to me.

My other thought with regard to my Educational Capstone is how so much of my life has seemed designed to support what I’m doing now. This should not surprise me, as I believe in a sovereign and involved God who often blesses His people by surprising them with His creativity, but there were several tangible times across the semester when I vividly recall sitting back, shaking my head, and marveling at just how something I’d already learned and experienced was of benefit to me in the here and now.

Truly, God does not waste life. The examples are myriad: growing up on a farm and learning the value of hard work; being a student who always seemed to love school; playing sports and always wanting to coach; participating in extra-curriculars of music and speech and being able to speak with a measure of understanding in both; approaching college for both the personal development as well as the academic degree; investing ten years in youth ministry with The Navigators and learning so much about kids, leadership, and the practical realities of ministry in the process, all while working in areas of graphic design, public relations, program planning, counseling, and administration; receiving training in Reformed theology in seminary and (finally) being able to name the doctrine of common grace as so much of the explanation for my perspective on culture and people – by God’s grace, everything seems more intentional than accidental.

My Educational Capstone experience has helped me recognize all this in both tangible and ethereal ways, and I’m grateful that I can not only say it is so having learned as a student from God the Master Teacher, but that I also know it is so, as the desire to teach and to learn in service of Christian education continues to burn within me. It is one thing I do not doubt, but instead resonate with the psalmist when he writes:

“O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.” (Psalm 71:17-18)

And for that – all of that – I am most grateful. Thanks for a great education experience.

Learning Education: Second Endorsement

Here's a second endorsement for Learning Education: Essay & Ideas from My First Three Years of Teaching, this one from the seminary professor level:

“How does a teacher learn how to teach? Craig answers his own question by weaving together a colorful tapestry of reflections, papers, logs, and reviews from his own early teaching odyssey. Teachers from every experiential strata will identify with his heartfelt descriptions of the highest highs and lowest lows. They will also appreciate Craig’s ultimately hopeful, redemptive tone that reminds us that the best teachers are those who love to learn. They are those who take their cues from the Master teacher who embodies the grace and truth Craig so skillfully reflects.”

DR. DONALD GUTHRIE, PROFESSOR OF EDUCATIONAL MINISTRIES, COVENANT THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

If you haven't done so yet, click here to order your copy. And please help spread the word via your blog, Twitter, or Facebook account.

Learning Education: First Endorsement

Here's the first endorsement (a very kind and gracious one from my own Head of School) for Learning Education: Essay & Ideas from My First Three Years of Teaching:

“Teachers learn most of what they come to know and trust about teaching during their first three years. Craig provides an insightful and compelling practitioner’s view of the joys, pitfalls, and non-negotiables of the early years that are the building blocks of successful teaching and effective learning. His reflections will resonate with the veteran teacher, as well as encourage those beginning or establishing their careers in Christian education.”

JAMES C. MARSH, JR., HEAD OF SCHOOL
WESTMINSTER CHRISTIAN ACADEMY

Click here to order your copy. And please help spread the word via your blog, Twitter, or Facebook account.

Now on Sale: Learning Education

My second book, Learning Education: Essays & Ideas from My First Three Years of Teaching, is now available through Second Drafts for just $12.75 (+$3 for shipping).

In addition, purchase my first book, TwentySomeone: Finding Yourself in a Decade of Transition, and get the best price available at just $10 (+$1 for shipping).

To order online, go to the Second Drafts storefront and click the book(s) you want, add them to your cart, click checkout, and pay via PayPal (allow 7-10 days for delivery).

If you'd rather pay by mail, indicate which book(s) you want, add $3 for shipping for your first book (+$1 for each additional book), make your check out to me, and mail to:

Craig Dunham
7419 Canterbury Avenue
St. Louis, Missouri 63143

Be sure to include your shipping address with your order (allow 7-10 days for delivery). Questions? Feel free to leave them in the comments and I'll get back as soon as I can.

Thanks in advance for your order, as well as for spreading the word about the new book.

Learning Education: The BookShow

Here's a sweet little preview of my forthcoming book via Blurb's BookShow widget. While the book will be in paperback instead of the displayed hardback, you can flip through the entire thing below and get an idea of its "plop" value.

Blurb's prices are way high for individual orders, so I'm working on a little storefront you can order through to get Learning Education at a 23% discount (from $20.55 down to $15.75, which includes shipping - I'll even sign it for you). This will go live on Tuesday, so check back then to place your order.

In the meantime, I'd really appreciate your help in spreading the word about Learning Education. As it's obviously written with educators (particularly new educators) in mind, would you mind emailing every teacher you know and linking them here?

And, since we're coming up on graduation season, don't forget that TwentySomeone makes a great gift for college graduates and their parents alike, so let them know (again, I'll have a special deal on the storefront Tuesday - I'm happy to sign those as well).

More as I have it. Thanks for your help.

Learning Education: The Introduction

I'm celebrating a milestone of sorts today, namely the third anniversary of officially being hired as a teacher at Westminster Christian Academy. In honor of the day, as well as that Learning Education releases in less than a week, I thought I'd post the introduction to the book here. Hope you enjoy.

On April 20, 2007, I was a second-year seminary student with an undergraduate degree in geography who wanted to write and teach for a living. I’d already written my first book, but the only real classroom credential I could list on a resume was teaching Bible part-time at a classical school the year before. My mother was an English teacher for 30 years, and my grandfather had been a beloved elementary school principal for 40; maybe, I thought, that would count for something.

There I was – a guy in his mid-thirties with little formal classroom experience and no education degree – applying for a Bible position that over 50 others were applying for as well. Married with four daughters, I’d spent the past 12 years raising support as part of our camp and conference ministry, but since I was no longer camping and conferencing, the support was running out. I was only halfway through seminary and had failed Hebrew twice; a full-time teaching position just seemed out of the question.

Gracious personal references somehow positioned me as one of the top three candidates applying for the role, but I still had to convince the administration I knew something about teaching (or at least enough to get hired and learn what I didn’t). After a shaky interview (remember my qualifications – or lack thereof), I taught an 80-minute Ethics class I’d prepared on the eighth commandment. By God's grace, I received a round of student applause at the end of the class (a first, I was told), and a phone call later that day informing me I got the job.

Now began the real education...mine. Finishing my degree while teaching full-time gave me a chance few teachers get – take important education classes toward qualifying me for what I was already doing as a real teacher. Forget eight weeks of student semi-teaching; this was a daily do-or-die, trial-by-fire, multi-year, hands-on reality...and the best (and hardest) training for “learning” education.

Meant to be as much memoir as methodology, Learning Education chronicles these first three years and what it was like to go to class in the evening, learn something new, and try it out with students the very next morning (honestly, some of the best lesson plans my first year were little more than this). I wrote a lot about what I was learning as a student, and even more about what I was learning as a teacher (though I wouldn’t say the two were or are mutually exclusive by any means).

While most of the material is comprised of edited blog posts and submitted seminary papers, I’ve also included interviews, emails, lists, notes from reading logs, quotes from articles and book reviews, and anything else that seemed to make summarizing sense of my experience. Read the book straight through, or pick and choose according to your interests. I won’t promise you’ll become a better student or a better teacher, but my prayer for you – as it was for me – is that you’ll become better as both.

April 27th is the official release day, so mark your calendars and spread the word. More to come between now and then...

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

In the past week, I've coached five baseball games, the last of which counts almost for two as it went 12 innings (high school games are seven innings). The good news: we won every game (even the 12-inning one); the other news: by the end of the week (or really by Wednesday) I was completely exhausted.

When I got home Friday night after school, a seminary class, and a reunion dinner with my family to reintroduce myself as husband/father, I was so tired that I was in bed and asleep by 7:30...that is, until Megan came to bed at 11:30, which is when I woke up and couldn't go back to bed. I knew I was still wiped out, but I could not for the life of me fall back asleep. And now it's early morning. Nuts.

I remember taking a psychology class my sophomore year in college and reading about sleep deprivation experiments done on mice. Somehow, before taking that class, I had honestly believed that one's need for sleep was simply mind over matter; we didn't really need to sleep, but it was a good idea to do so anyway. I'm not kidding: I honestly thought this (in the words of Bugs Bunny, "What a maroon.")

Then I read about experiments in which researchers filled an aquarium with four inches of water and placed a long triangle-shaped column the length of the aquarium floor. The edge of the triangle jutted up out of the water by an inch or so, and the mice would perch themselves on the edge so as not to fall in and get wet. However, when the mice fell asleep, their grip on the edge relaxed, they fell off, woke up, and scrambled back onto the edge, newly awakened but increasingly sleep-deprived. This went on for days and weeks until they finally died from sheer exhaustion.

Maybe it's my farm background, but I've never been a real night owl; even in college, I was usually in bed by 9:30 and up before everyone else in the dorm. This all changed 8-10 years ago in Colorado, as I started getting up in the middle of the night multiple times - sometimes because of crying kids, but often because I just kept waking up and couldn't go back to sleep. I began to notice that I didn't dream anymore, and I needed naps more than I used to because I was just so tired all the time. I also snored, which along with my constant getting in and out of bed, kept Megan up at night.

This sleep pattern continued when we moved to St. Louis five years ago, but it didn't make sense because we were through the crying-kids-at-night stage, yet I was still waking (and getting) up. Studying in seminary became especially difficult as I couldn't read anything even early in the evening without falling asleep 20 minutes later. Then, when I started teaching full-time in addition to everything else, I would come home from school and have to lay down for a good hour, as I was so wiped out from the day.

At Megan's request, I finally did a sleep study at St. Luke's Sleep Medicine and Research Center and found out that I woke myself up approximately 100 times a night due to sleep apnea. Apparently, I have very narrow nasal passages that hinder my breathing and keep my brain from dropping into REM sleep because it's too busy making sure I don't stop breathing altogether by causing me to gasp for more air. Yet because I had been kind of asleep, I never really noticed (though Megan did, especially the gasping part).

For the past couple of years now, I have been sleeping with a mask that's connected to a ventilator of sorts and pushes air through my nasal passages to keep them from collapsing during the night. The mask took some getting used to (I'm a tummy sleeper, so I've had to learn to sleep more on my side), but the change has been remarkable: I sleep harder, I rarely wake up enough to get up in the middle of the night, and best of all, the dreams are back and that really makes me happy (I have cool dreams).

Except last night, when there were no dreams because there was no sleep. I was afraid this might happen going to bed so early, but I had little choice - my body just wouldn't stay up any longer. So, I'm a little tired this morning, but as this is my last clear Saturday to work on my seminary capstone project, I need to resist the urge to try to go back to bed. Thankfully, I have four alarm clocks with legs who will do the trick when they get up pretty soon, but for now, I'm glad a night like last night is the exception and not the rule anymore.

(Note: I'm not paid to endorse sleep studies, but if you're constantly tired, give some thought to whether it could be because of poor sleep. As was true in my case, you may not know what you don't know.)

Out of the Mouths of...Adolescents

Here are some choice selections from the papers my New Testament freshmen are getting back tomorrow. The assignment was for students to interview a member of their church's leadership and write a 2-3 page paper explaining their fellowship's/denomination's doctrinal beliefs about things like governance, worship style, sacraments, purposes, functions, etc. (I've thrown in some comments from me just for kicks.)

"The denominational ties of our church are a key belief of our denomination and have no higher archy." [That's good. I prefer the lower kind of archy myself...]

"We participate in the Lord's Supper about every three months. We drink grape juice and not wine, and once you have been saved, you are aloud to participate in it." [So much for using the time for silent reflection...]

"Our church has a leadership structure like the federal government." [Oh, God help us...]

"Teaching, theology, evangelism, and outreach are defiantly important to the church." [Okay, okay, you made your point. Now back off, Barbie...]

"In our denomination, we believe in theology and use evangelism to share the gospel." [Oh, so that's how it works...]

"One of the things that sets apart my church from many other churches is we seek to be Christ-like." [Attention churches seeking to be otherwise, this might be part of your problem...]

"There is also a plurality of elders, which means the ruling elders and pastors each have one vote." [If they only have one vote, doesn't that mean there is a singularity of each elder?]

"My church's worship style is the substance of style." [So Word to your Father, yo...]

"Our pastor bases the sermon straight form the Bible itself and does not interpret the Bible in any way." [Which is another way of saying he reads it...]

"Our church has two types of worship: liturgical and a more open, less-structured style." [So are we to understand that the second group meets in a nest?]

"I would say the weakest part of the church in my eyes is the youth group. I have been to several different youth groups and ours is not as good as others. The main reason for this is because there are more kids at other youth groups." [Indeed, youth ministry is full of these chicken-or-egg dilemmas, which is why I'm not a youth pastor...]

"There are many reasons why my church is a PCA church; firstly, it resides in the Apostles' Creed, and secondly, it states facts in the catechism." [Anybody driven by that neighborhood and heard the building reciting the Confession?]

"According to my pastor, we believe all orthodox beliefs...and some of our own as well." [This one's possibly my favorite, especially since I know the pastor...]

"If there is something in a service that I do not like, I can just go to another service that I do like." [Moral therapeutic deism, anyone?]

"The church participates in many functions such as work programs, community services, etc. My pastor also mentioned the many asylums that care for orphans or widows." [Is "asylums" what we're calling deacons nowadays?]

"The senior pastor reports to the elders and the small pastors report to the senior pastor." [Note to graduating seminary students under 5'8": don't even mess interviewing with this one...]

"My pastor thinks that church is very important for Christians...and when asked if church was important for skeptics, he quickly agreed, saying, 'Skeptics are looking for the truth, making church a good place to find it.' He wasn't sure if church was important to God." [I'm so relieved.]

"We differ in belief from many other churches similar to ours." [Or put another way, they think the same as many other churches different from them.]

"After visiting our church for the first time, we loved the way the pastor did his sermon. He just really got the message across and did it in a way that makes you feel almost involved." [Lord, have mercy if he had actually crossed that line...]

"Our church is very big on the authority and suffering of the Bible." [I'm guessing she meant "sufficiency," but why major on minors?]

"My mom and I were church shopping and accidentally found our church." [Must have been hiding in the "discount sales" bin...]

"I appreciate how everything is kept modern. There is a live band playing like a Christian rock concert. For me, it makes it easier to worship because I can sing as loud as I want without anyone hearing me." [Because, of course, that is the point of worship...]

I've got a post brewing from both a theological and educational perspective on what I think is going on here, so stay tuned...

Bubbaville, Super Bowl, Love

When we lived in Colorado, Megan and I hosted an annual White Trash Super Bowl Party.

We took our inspiration from the Colorado Springs neighborhood in which we bought our first house - "Bubbaville," we affectionately called it. You see, we lived down the street from the local Salvation Army; the police helicopters flew over our house every night as we happened to be in the center of their "suspicious behavior" circuit; and our neighbors (with whom we awkwardly shared a driveway) used to loudly ride their four-wheeler around our house for fun.

The idea of an actual party came a couple years later, after we had moved out of Bubbaville and into a different neighborhood across town. We encouraged our friends to embrace their "inner white trash." For our part, we let our then-very-young children run around in nothing but diapers; Megan put on a ton of cheap jewelry and frizzed out her hair; I didn't shower, fix my bedhead, or wear anything but sweats and a white T-shirt. We thought about putting a couple vehicles up on blocks in the front yard, but in the end opted for dragging a bunch of stuff out of the garage and putting up a couple of cheap pink flamingos instead.

Here's an invitation I sent out via email one year:

Our friends gleefully showed up and played their parts: guys wore "wife-beater" T-shirts, fake mullets, and jeans with holes (a la Def Leppard); gals got "creative" with their makeup, giving themselves fake hickeys and black eyes as if they had just fought AND made up with their boyfriends/husbands in our driveway. There were other little kids running around in diapers and pull-ups, and we all sat around laughing at each other - sometimes watching the game, always watching the commercials.

It was funny...and fun...and wrong. Megan felt it...and so did I.

For someone like me, whose sense of humor can seem unfortunately more developed than his sensitivity, having fun at the expense of others is all too easy to be all that good. I learned a long time ago not to use humor as a weapon, but there have been plenty of instances - some public, most private - when I have broken my own cease-fire agreement. The only thing quicker than my brain is my tongue, which can be unfortunate for others when the former follows the latter in an all-out pursuit of anything funny.

When we moved to St. Louis and I got my first full semester of seminary under my belt, the Holy Spirit zeroed in on a couple of areas in my life that caused me to regret and repent of some prejudices I never thought I had. Despite growing up in a county with next to no racial diversity, my prejudices rarely involve race; instead (and as my "white trash" years should have first clued me in), I have to watch out for "education prejudice" - judging others on the education (or the sense of education) I perceive them to have or not have.

While there's more nuance to it than I can describe in words, basically it's a very quick process that goes something like this: if I think I'm smarter than you are, I win; if I don't think I'm smarter than you are, then I ask the question again and again until I can figure out a reason how and why I could be. (Ironically, the ridiculous part in all this is that I assume by default that I'm actually dumber than everyone, which is another example of how sin ratchets up my insecurities and feeds the aforementioned cycle.)

Thankfully - mercifully - I've grown in my understanding of God's love for me through the words and wounds of grace, but the Super Bowl (of all things) and the memories of the "white trash" parties of the past serve as an annual reminder of my need to love others as God loves others, which often - and often simply - means not making fun of them.

As Paul wrote to the Philippians (and as a good friend once shared with me because of my arrogance):

"And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God." Philippians 1:9-11

Go Colts.

(Note: To relive last year's Super Bowl (and commercials), I live-blogged it here.)

'Tis the Season...

...when Megan bakes cookies and leaves them around for me to pretend to ignore. It's also when we put up a tree and clutter it (and the house) with all things Christmas holiday. Ah, the sights, sounds, smells, and stuff of the season.

But I digress. Lots going on this week. Here's a rundown:

• The two-year hostage situation of St. Louis' main east/west artery has ended, as I-64/40 is open again. If all goes according to plan, I should be able to cut 10 minutes off my once-25-minute commute to/from school and seminary, which is exciting. All in all, the process wasn't that bad, but I wouldn't want to do it again anytime soon.
• I'm finishing up the fourth and fifth commandments with my Ethics students, as well as the book of Matthew with my New Testament kids this week. Finals are next week, so I've got a few tests to write and more than a few papers and assignments to grade. Glad to be two weeks away from Christmas break.
• This week is a big one in terms of finishing my seminary studies for the semester. I have an hour-long group project presentation on Monday, a paper due on Wednesday, and two finals to take by Sunday and then I'm down to my final semester at Covenant (and probably forever, unless some university wants to give me a full-ride to work on a Ph.D.). It will feel really good to finally be finished, both in a week and in five months.
• Megan and I are turning in our collective resignation letter to Nick at the Covenant bookstore, with our last day being December 30th (Nick's actually known about it for months, so it's not that big a deal). It was a good year-and-a-half at my first real retail experience, but I've got to make room to coach JV baseball in the spring, so something had to go.
• I'm planning to post my 2009 booklist in another week, so check back soon if you're still looking for readable gift ideas. I was initially disappointed in my list this year, but at second glance it's not that bad (though I definitely didn't read as much fiction as I have in the past). Look for it in another few days.
• Speaking of books as gifts, TwentySomeone wraps as well at Christmas as at graduation time (just wanted to let you know in case you're still looking for a present for a hard-to-buy-for twentysomething in your life).
• And speaking of Christmas, in addition to the obligatory family roadtrips/celebrations, we're planning to paint another room (dining) over the holidays and get some time hanging out here at home. We're also looking forward to seeing the movie Up in the Air with George Clooney, as parts were filmed in St. Louis (and some of those parts right here in our little Maplewood community).

Guess that's about it. If you're in town or passing through over the holidays, come on by - being the introverts that we are, we might not answer the door, but you'll enjoy the trip.

Having the Appearance of Godliness, But Denying Its Power

“In his classic book Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster reminds us that the spiritual disciplines are uniquely designed by God to allow us to receive his grace by allowing ‘us to place ourselves before God so that he can transform us…We must always remember that the path does not produce the change; it only puts us in the place where the change can occur.’” The Leader’s Journey, p. 136

I’m trying to recall when in my life I’ve felt most spiritually disciplined. It hasn’t been often. My first thought goes back to my sophomore year of college, when I embraced (via The Navigators) the concept of Scripture memory and the Quiet Time (or “Q.T.,” as we affectionately called it then). I would rise every morning at 6 a.m. (after a 9:30 p.m. bedtime – unheard of for dorm life), make my way down the hall to the student lounge (which was always empty that early in the morning), and read, pray, write, memorize, and review verses for an hour. Over the next couple of years of doing this, I read through the Bible a few times, memorized (and retained) 2-3 verses a week, and filled 6 journals with my thoughts. I learned and grew a lot those three years, which was good. I was hungry to do so.

My second memory consists of a collage of my first three summers at Eagle Lake – first as a counselor responsible for the physical and spiritual care of a tee-pee of seven teenage kids each week, then as one of four program directors responsible for the whole camp (about 2,000 souls each summer). The sense of responsibility I felt was enormous, and my prayer life reflected it through multiple prayer walks (often in the same day) around the lake, across camp, and on a particular flat rock in the path leading to the A-frame. I prayed a lot those first three summers – sometimes out of gratitude, but mostly out of desperation – as the challenges felt immense and my ability to meet them seemed so small. These were hugely developmental times in terms of spiritual growth and leadership, and much of this had to do with those times spent in prayer, voicing my dependence to God.

If spiritual hunger and voicing my dependence to God are criteria for engaging in the spiritual disciplines, one might think there would be plenty more examples of having done so in my life. After all, since my days in college and at camp, I’ve gotten married, had four children, bought three different houses, written a book, traveled and spoken many times, experienced significant ministry transition, graduated from seminary, and now teach 100 high schoolers a day in my New Testament and Biblical Ethics classes. It would seem I have/have had reasons to exercise my dependence on God through spiritual disciplines.

Unfortunately, I haven’t felt spiritually disciplined for a long time, for in addition to the spiritual disciplines producing fruit in me in the past, they have also made me more competent at handling life and ministry in the here and now. Maturity, of course, is by God’s design, but competence is not meant to be an end in itself but a means to the end of continuing spiritual transformation and formation. This is what Foster means when he writes, “the path does not produce the change; it only puts us in the place where the change can occur.” Thus, when I have been most desperate, it has been when I have been most spiritually disciplined – not because I had to be, but because I needed to be.

In considering all this (and I do often), I think of Paul’s words in 2 Timothy 3:2-5:

“For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power.”

Sadly, I recognize myself too much in these verses – not in every way mentioned, but in more ways than I care to admit. The appearance of godliness – so often mistaken as competence – too easily hides my desperation for God. Self-reliance and self-sufficiency – values affirmed in our culture – too often numb my felt need to practice the spiritual disciplines as they numb my real need to experience God. Spiritual disciplines can help me realize what’s going on in my life, but only God has power to transform my heart.

City of God or Country of God?

Maybe I've read too many Wendell Berry books, but it's taken some time for me - a country boy - to come around to the thought of the city being a cherished part of the Christian mission. Indeed, I get the concept of the biblical narrative taking us from the Garden (Genesis) to the City (Revelation), and it does seem God spends an awful lot of time in the Scriptures interacting with ancient cities and their inhabitants, but it's only been since moving to a big city myself that my heart has warmed to the idea.

Growing up six miles outside a town of 1,200 (Griggsville, IL - "Purple Martin Capital of the Nation") two hours north of the STL, my big city experiences were few and far between. When I did visit St. Louis or Chicago (which my family rarely did), or even when I traveled overseas at the age of 16 to major cities like London, Paris, or Munich, I was rarely scared by them, but I was not all that enamored, either. While I enjoyed the idea of being there, the cities all felt too touristy to me (granted, a tourist), and I just couldn't figure out who or how one enjoyed living in a place so overrun by millions of non-residents.

This theme continued when I moved west. Colorado Springs - as beautiful as it can be - seemed to prostitute itself to the spring break and summer tourist crowds. Add to that feeling the fact that there's absolutely no good way to drive east-west in town (which was unfortunate, since that was how we had to go to get to our PCA church), and I began to lament our attempts at church community in the city. I couldn't figure out how church "happened" naturally and personally in a city of 350,000, let alone 3.5 million.

Then we moved to St. Louis - a classic example of an American city that has suffered from decades of racial tension, white flight to the suburbs, and inner-city poverty (both financial and human). As the middle-class moved out, so grew with them the megachurches. Harvie Conn, in his book The American City and the Evangelical Church, sums up well what seems to have gone on here and in other metropolitan areas like it:

"The community church has become a regional church. And in becoming a regional church it becomes a megachurch...In this decentralized world the church loses its grip on local geographical neighborhood and is transformed into a megachurch, twenty-five minutes by car. The size of the megachurch becomes limited only by the size of its parking lot. And the lost community created by this change finds its replacement in the small cell groups and house meetings also characteristic of the successful megachurch." (p. 191)

(Random thought: Maybe this is why I really don't like small groups - it's an unconscious rebelling against megachurches everywhere. Actually, I love the Catholic "parish model" with churches geographically placed throughout the city and members living within the neighborhood attending; in fact, if it weren't for those pesky doctrinal issues - worship of Mary, sainthood, purgatory, etc. - I'd probably have become Catholic by now if for no other reason than I love the architecture. But I digress.)

After we moved to Maplewood (where we live half a house from the St. Louis city/county line), we knew we wanted to be part of as local a PCA congregation as we could. Thankfully, Crossroads Presbyterian was just a ten-minute walk around the corner and up the hill from the house we bought, and we're glad for the fact that in terms of both vision and facility, there are no plans nor means to grow the church beyond 300 members without planting another church (which we're actually doing now) first.

All that said, my heart for the city (Maplewood and/or St. Louis proper) is growing in addition to my heart for the country. Yes, I'm still waiting for the PCA to catch a vision for church planting in more rural areas, but I know it's tough financially and (honestly) culturally. But, while I still feel the need to be an advocate for rural ministry here in the city, I'm glad to feel an expanding love in this country boy's heart for the city as well.

So, with apologies to Augustine, is it the city of God or the country of God that matters?

My best answer: yes.

Now Practicing in Maplewood

“Systems theory focuses on what man does and not
on his verbal explanations about why he does it.”
Murray Bowen in Family Therapy in Clinical Practice

I love Murray Bowen and systems theory. I remember first formally encountering Bowen’s work in my Marriage and Family class at Covenant and thinking, “Not only does this make complete sense in explaining the dynamics of human relationships, it also appeals to how systematic/systemic thinkers (like me) think.” From that point forward, I was hooked.

Having grown up on a farm, I was raised and led to believe that the world was basically secure rather than basically threatening, and that as long as I did my homework, finished my chores, and got to (and out of) bed at a decent hour, things would generally work out for the best. Mine was a fairly consistent existence with little drama involved.

As a result of my background, I sometimes struggle with others whose commotion tends to trump logic. In the past, I have resorted to more emotional outbursts myself in order to "out-emote the over-emotional," beating them at their own game, and (foolishly) trying to illustrate how ridiculous the drama can be. This, of course, is rarely effective (though somewhat disturbingly enjoyable), and I recognize that I assume this position when I fail to consider the systems (family, organizational, etc.) at play in the various situations.

Thankfully, after years of learning things the hard way, I'm finally on the brink of a major break-through by being able to give up my attempts to "out-emote the over-emotional"; indeed, my days of "trying to illustrate how ridiculous the drama can be" may be at an end.

What's my secret? I'm the father of four daughters. Here's my team of therapists:

It's good to be on the road to recovery...

(Photo by Kelly Park Photography)

Judged with Greater Strictness (gulp)

“Rather than living a reflective life characterized by the classic spiritual disciplines, far too often we live a frantically busy life that occasionally has daily quiet time. As we try to get some control over all the things that pull at us, God is assigned to the ‘spiritual’ or ‘Sunday’ part of our lives, rather than permeating all that we do. Consider: Do you have a prayer life or a life of prayer? Occasions of fasting, or a lifestyle of fasting? Do you relegate Jesus to a quiet-time encounter early in the morning, or engage in a reflective lifestyle that seeks to know Jesus’ presence in every moment of the day?” The Leader’s Journey, p. 11

One of the toughest challenges being a Bible teacher is this reminder from James 3:1: “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.” If there’s a verse that keeps me up late at night, it is this one.

Or is it? Let’s be honest: when was the last time I was actually up late fretting in holy fear over this Scripture passage? Or any Scripture passage? Based on my sleep habits (usually to bed around 9:45 and out as soon as my head hits the pillow), one might justifiably suggest that I’m not too bothered by the possibility of any stricter judgment to come. In fact, as one of my fellow teachers once concluded when he heard when and how I fall asleep, “You must have a clear conscience.” Actually, nothing could be further from the truth.

Maybe it’s due to the subject matter (New Testament and Biblical Ethics) or the fact that I’m incredibly (unfortunately) gifted in “do as I say, not as I do” theology, the longer I teach, the more dangerous I see myself becoming as a teacher. My fear stems not from being a “bad” teacher theologically, nor from aspiring to be a “good” (or even “great”) teacher of the Scriptures. My fear is fooling everyone (including myself) into thinking that everything I teach is indeed everything I practice – precisely, particularly, perfectly. In my vocation as a Bible teacher, I worry as much about hypocrisy as I do hermeneutics, lest what I have learned and now teach as “truth” be possibly negated by not living all or any of it.

This feeling of hypocrisy – so graciously allowed by God’s Spirit to check me in the here and now – would seem to be part of that stricter judgment I normally reserve for a future date. Yet God is never content to let my inconsistent behavior go unaddressed and only (finally) to be judged at some cosmic Bema Seat; he is always at work by his Spirit (in conjunction with my conscience) to judge me in the present, that I may be made aware of my sin and repent.

Herrington, Creech, and Taylor write in their book, The Leader’s Journey, that “We often believe that the great difficulty in life is knowing the right thing to do. Sometimes it is. At other times, however, the difficult thing is simply having the inner resources to do what we believe is right.” (p. 17) I fully resonate with their statement, as so often the question for me is not what I am reading in the Bible, but if I’m reading enough so that the Bible can read me? Can I really address the subject of Sabbath with my students when my Sabbath is as subject to preference and schedule as theirs is? How is it my place to challenge my students on prayer when prayer has so little place in my own life? Once again, hypocrisy trumps hermeneutics.

The authors quote Dallas Willard in his book, The Divine Conspiracy, on “the futility of attempting to direct our lives by asking the question ‘What would Jesus do?’ when we are not practicing the spiritual disciplines that Jesus practiced regularly in his life. Attempting to ‘perform’ as Jesus did when we are under pressure to compromise only frustrates most of us.” (p. 23) Maybe the reason I so rarely ask the WWJD question is I so poorly practice the spiritual disciplines needed to discern any answer to it. Again, my conscience condemns me.

My only hope in all this is Jesus – the Great Teacher himself – who endured the strictest of judgments to be found righteous in what he taught and how he lived. Jesus did not practice “do as I say, not as I do” theology; no hypocrisy trumped his hermeneutics. It is this Teacher who calls and motivates me to teach, and it is this Teacher who must empower me if I am to do likewise.

Welcome, Interns (Part 3)

(Part 3 of "Welcome, Interns" for my Ed. Leadership class. Part 1 is here; part 2 is here.)

6) Greater influence requires greater awareness – of others and yourself. One of the most important things you will learn about during your time at First Presbyterian is the power of influence – yours upon others, others’ upon you, and everyone’s upon the system. Before you can own your influence, you have to grow in your awareness of it by paying more attention to others and their responses and reactions to you. This is not a call to an unhealthy preoccupation with yourself; however, having an idea of how your presence (or absence) shapes meetings, discussions, decisions, events, and evaluations can give you great insight into why and how God has gifted you the way he has (or perhaps hasn’t). Embracing this discovery process and owning the results of it are key to developing yourself as a person; helping others embrace and own these same things in their lives develops you as a leader.

7) You are not your gifts, and your gifts are for others. As tempting as it may be to view your internship as the vehicle through which to highlight your many ministry talents (sort of a “Denominational Idol,” if you will), now’s as good a time as any to develop a healthy theology of spiritual gifts and abilities. First and foremost in this endeavor should be the idea that you are not your gifts, with a prime corollary being that your gifts are for others – believers and skeptics alike. Few things are less attractive than a show-off in the Body of Christ, so don’t be that guy. Instead, ask God and your leadership for the opportunities that they think will best help you help First Presbyterian; then, after being faithful in those opportunities, ask them for their honest feedback, not taking personally their comments (good or bad), but seeking to listen for how God may have used your gifts in the lives of others. Remember: you are not your gifts, and your gifts are for others. This feedback and (hopefully) affirmation from the church – not just generic spiritual gift tests or surveys, though they’re helpful – is how you discover more of who God made you to be and why.

8) Inspiration matters, but so does your integrity in summoning it. Understand right now that there is no Intern-of-the-Year award at First Presbyterian; thus, there’s no need to be (or try to be) the most hip, charismatic, and brilliant intern the church has or will ever have. This may disappoint some of you who, by nature, are hip, charismatic, and brilliant and were hoping for your shot at the title, but for others of you who are less hip, charismatic, and brilliant, let this lack of award competition be permission to be who you are and inspire others accordingly. Don’t hear what I’m not saying: inspiration is, well, inspiring, and people at First Presbyterian probably don’t get enough of it, but the inspiration they’re looking for – indeed, the inspiration they need – is the Spirit’s inspiration in response to the Spirit’s inspired Word. This doesn’t mean you can’t play an inspired part – just make sure it’s a supporting role, one that doesn’t compromise your personality and character to play it.

9) Be an optimistic realist instead of a pessimistic idealist. It’s easy to be the guy in the corner who knows how church is supposed to be and relishes being the one who doubts it ever will be. His is a "no-lose" situation; that is, if something screws up, he’s right, but if something actually works, he’s merely surprised (rather than wrong), while everyone else is simply relieved that something went well. But “no-lose” does not equate to “win-win,” so this isn’t very helpful. What is helpful (and, I've learned, more accurate and biblical) is taking the perspective of an optimistic realist – that is, one who recognizes the bad that could happen, but prays with hope that good will overcome. That said, resist evaluating everything by the pessimistic idealist’s “It’s never what it could be” declaration of doom, and rather adopt the optimistic realist’s approach of “It is what it is, but I pray it can be better,” as it’s a much healthier perspective for you, those you lead, and those who lead and work with you.

10) Prayer is not hard; wanting to pray is what’s difficult. That’s because wanting to pray means being willing to recognize your needs before God. And, while not wanting to do this for the sake of your pride may seem selfish enough, let’s add to the dysfunction: perhaps you’d rather judge others for having needs, which makes you feel better about having (but not praying about) yours. It’s sick, isn’t it? Indeed it is – which is why you as an intern need to wrestle not with your guilt over your real prayerlessness, but with your pride over your pretend sinlessness. After all, what is prayer if it is not a measure of how sufficient you view yourself? If you really want to grow in prayer, ask God to show you how competent you aren’t during this internship. You may be surprised how much more you pray as a result.

So there you have it: ten thoughts to consider as you prepare for your internship at First Presbyterian this summer. Granted, my ideas may not seem particularly insightful, but I share them with you in hopes that they will become more so. As you should do with all counsel (solicited or unsolicited) from others, chew on the meat, spit out the bones, and pray the Spirit would wash away any bad taste left in your mouth.

In close, don’t take yourself too seriously or your sin too lightly. “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

Have a great summer.

Welcome, Interns (Part 2)

(Here's part 2 of "Welcome, Interns" for my Educational Leadership class. Part 1 is here.)

1) Change is not the enemy; loss (real or perceived) is. Believe it or not, people are open to change, but usually not for change’s sake. As unspiritual as it sounds, people tend to evaluate change by how it impacts them, and most resist change if said impact is (or seems) negative. Don’t waste emotional energy if people push back against your initiatives; figure out why they’re doing so by asking, “What are they afraid of losing?”

2) Challenging (not upholding) the status quo is your role as a leader. I’m guessing that during your internship, you’ll experience more than a few “this is how we do things around here” moments. These are not exclusive to churches – businesses, government, and the military have their own versions – but they are especially interesting coming at the hands of the church member who seems to have more power than the elder board combined; or the Sunday School teacher who is a curriculum terrorist and threatens to blow up anything he or she hasn’t used before; or a moody staff member who's the only one with the keys. You’re probably not going to be around long enough to change folks like these (it takes years), but that doesn’t mean you can’t ask fair questions, suggest creative improvements, and encourage others to persevere in their battles against the status quo. This is what leaders do, so don’t let differences (real or perceived) between your role and your circumstances here at First Presbyterian convince you otherwise.

3) Save your breath to cool your coffee…or learn to like it really hot. You’ve probably heard that you have to pick your battles, but you have to pick the timing of your battles as well. This is true not just in your day-to-day interactions with others; it’s true in your understanding of the wider scope of First Presbyterian’s history. Before you give in to your seemingly insatiable itch to criticize those all-important decisions regarding worship style, sanctuary color scheme, or bulletin font, do yourself a favor and research the when, what, and why of who made those decisions and how. You don’t know how much heat you can take right now, but you’ll find out soon enough if you pick the wrong time to fight a battle, wrong or right. Major on the majors and leave the minor stuff to those who don’t know better (but will soon learn).

4) Never, ever write off anyone, especially those who are your biggest critics. I can think of at least ten people in the past five years who I was once tempted to write off (and probably tell off as well) for being or seeming a hindrance to the purposes of God, only to encounter them in a completely different context in church or in life at a later date actually making a difference. For all its universality, the Body of Christ is a small world (the PCA is even smaller), and often the quickest way you can hamstring the process of making your contribution within it is to write off the potential of others to make theirs. By grace, people can change; if you don’t believe that, you have no business being in ministry.

5) It’s not experience that’s the best teacher; it’s evaluated experience. Any long-term benefit of your internship will be in direct proportion to the amount of your short-term evaluation done not just on your own, but with someone else here committed to your success. Peers can be helpful in this area, as can participants within your particular ministry context, but I can’t stress enough the importance of seeking, finding, and pursuing a Paul to your Timothy in order to process all that you’ll learn. Life and ministry are both less about having a closet of “Been There, Done That” T-shirts and more about having someone honestly engage with you about how each one fits…or how it doesn’t. Find that person now.

(To be concluded tomorrow.)

Welcome, Interns (Part 1)

I'm working on a couple different papers this weekend for my Educational Leadership class. Below is the first page (really just the intro) to a 5-7 page essay addressing the following question:

First Presbyterian Church hires fifteen interns every summer. The supervising pastor heard that you have taken this class and asks you to speak to the interns for about 15-20 minutes. These interns will be working with existing groups in the church and will be responsible to plan and prepare programs (with or for them). You will tell them, in your own words, what major concerns they need to attend to as they develop and implement ministry through these programs. In giving this advice, feel free to illustrate your points using examples from your own experience, stories you have heard in class, or to cite publications (though it is not necessary for you to do so). This “talk” should be about 5-7 pages and will be evaluated on the basis that its’ points are clearly stated and explained, and are internally consistent with each other.

Congratulations on your internship this summer at First Presbyterian! I know you’re excited to be here, and you should be – this is a great place and you’re going to have a great summer.

As I’ve been asked to speak to help prepare you as an intern, I feel the need to more clearly define the term. According to my dictionary, an “intern” is “a student or trainee who works, sometimes without pay, at a trade or occupation in order to gain work experience.” Sounds noble and something to aspire to, right? Maybe, but let me suggest you broaden your definition; I offer this as an add-on: “one after the other” (“in turn,” get it?).

You see, the good news is you’re one of fifteen interns chosen to minister here at First Presbyterian for the summer; the other news is there were fifteen different interns sitting where you’re sitting last summer and, Lord willing, there will be fifteen different interns sitting where you’re sitting next summer. In other words, you – and they – are, were, and will be part of an established system here at First Presbyterian – one that has been here before you and, God willing, will be here after you as well. Having this perspective is very important as you consider your place and time in the here and now because, as you probably noticed, I didn’t say First Presbyterian is, was, or will be a perfect system; actually, it’s a fairly flawed one.

It’s flawed because it’s made up of flawed people. If you don’t believe this, then you’re about to find out. You’re about to find out that those to whom you look for leadership can be distracted and demanding. You’re about to find out that those who will look to you for leadership can be impatient and selfish. You’re about to find out that those with whom you labor can be prideful and competitive.

Oh, and you’re about to find out that you can be all of the above…and more.

The other thing you’re about to find out is that all of these flaws (and more) have unfortunately made their way into parts of the First Presbyterian system. People you’ve never met (nor will) are responsible for problems you’ll encounter this summer, and the sooner you recognize that these problems don’t begin or end with you, the more you’ll be able to help First Presbyterian and those who comprise it now (as well as in the future).

With all this in mind, could I offer a few words of counsel as you begin your internship? I don’t offer these as “Truth,” but I do think there’s truth in them. Ten thoughts:

(To be continued as soon as I write it; meanwhile, feel free to add your words of wisdom.)

Making Beautiful Music

Continuing thoughts from my studies in Educational Leadership (see this previous post for more). Forgive the book report, but that's what it is (though hopefully more "reflective"):

“How you are tuned is another default setting in the system that is yourself. Each person is like a stringed instrument, tuned in a slightly different way from everyone else. As you go through life, your strings resonate with the environment based on your own particular tuning. Your tuning derives from many different things: your childhood experiences, genetic predispositions, cultural background, gender, and loyal identifications with various current and historical groups. Your tuning in your professional life may also be affected temporarily or long term by what is happening in your personal life.”
The Practice of Adaptive Leadership, p. 195

“Your sin ignites the sin in me.”
Bill Thrall in The Ascent of a Leader

Reading in chapter 15, I really liked and “resonated” (pun intended) with the metaphor of people being stringed instruments. I also really appreciated the admonishment to be more aware of our individual “tuning” so as to be more capable of discerning what’s going on in us and in others when tension and conflict emerge.

Contagion of sin fascinates me: passages in Psalms and Proverbs promise our sin will pass down to third and fourth generations, but we also pass on sin to those in the same generation (and often the same room). “Sin migration” intrigues because, though sad, it’s so tangible to watch. My vibrating strings cause others’ string to vibrate for good or ill (and vice versa) – sometimes we make beautiful music together; other times, not so much.

I liked how the authors talked about how vibrating strings “may prevent you from seeing the situation more fully and may inhibit you from responding in productive ways” (199). I apply this idea when, over a period of a few hours or even days, I can get worked up over something that someone else’s additional vibrations playing along inflame by adding to the noise. This is why gossip and slander are so dangerous for me, and why I do my absolute best to try to avoid them – they can vibrate all too easily in my own mind and heart.

I also liked how the authors said that “the more finely tuned your strings become over time, the more you are at risk of seeing the things happening in the environment you are sensitive to, even when they are not there” (199). As a very high intuitive, I’ve caught myself responding to a lot of string vibrations that either weren’t vibrating as loudly as I perhaps thought they were, or sometimes even at all. Combine my high receptivity with a high moral (at times, moralistic) perspective, and I can die on a hill for just about anything in minutes. (It’s hard to lead people when you’ve died before the battle begins.)

This leads to the third point I really appreciated: “When others know how you are tuned, they have more power to entice you to partner with them to support their own interests or to derail you from yours” (199). This could also be translated as “pulling one’s chain,” or in the authors’ language, “plucking one’s strings.” I wouldn’t say I’ve fallen prey to others too often in this, but that has more to do with the quality of character and trust of those around me more than anything.

As the authors note, our greatest strength is often our greatest weakness. My intuition can easily be an Achilles Heel in the hands of others with different motives other than love. Thankfully, those around me recognize who I am and how I think; they love me by not trying to stifle or manipulate my intuitive sense, but at the same time, they help keep it in perspective by trusting me with their need and desire for it. There's nothing like someone looking you in the eye and depending on you to keep you honest.

A Few Things on Friday

I haven't done a random Friday post for a good while, so I thought I'd throw out a couple things here:

• I am way behind on email and it's driving me nuts - I'm usually a "zero inbox" kind of guy. The worst part is it's not even "good" email - somebody either wants me to know something or wants something from me. Remember the early days when we actually used email to write personal letters? Sigh.
• We're officially two weeks into school already and it feels good. I'm really enjoying the kids in each of my classes, and I think the feeling seems mutual. Still, here's the semi-depressing thought of the week (as overheard in the teacher's lounge on Monday): "We'll have three weeks of school under our belts by Labor Day weekend." Just doesn't seem right.
• Speaking of school, my final year of seminary officially begins on Monday. After earning an MA in Theology last May, I'm trying to finish up my MA in Educational Ministries in 2010. Classes this semester: Educational Leadership (Mondays) and God's World Mission (online). Next semester is the Capstone class, which serves to summarize and systematize everything we've learned on the education track.
• I'm going to be one of two "co-coaches" for Westminster's JV baseball team next spring. Pretty stoked about that. Pitchers and catchers (and everyone else) report March 1.
• Haven't had too many offers (or really much sympathy in general) in response to my previous post on the book status, so I'll suck it up and stop talking about it here (for those trying to make a point, I got it).
• I've lost ten pounds in the past two weeks, due largely to a change in diet and a slight increase in activity. Been eating a lot of cottage cheese and nuts while avoiding bread and carbs like the plague. Also laying off anything that would cause my body to produce sugar (read about the South Beach Diet for more).
• Glad for the weekend and the beautiful weather coming our way. This has definitely been the mildest summer in the MIdwest that I can remember, though I'm guessing we'll get a hot day or two in September just to keep us honest.

Hope everyone has a nice, productive yet restful weekend.

Four Years Later

Covenant Theological Seminary Graduation, May 15, 2009

Master of Arts in Theological Studies

(Photo by Kelly Park)

500

If anybody's still reading, you know I've been dragging my feet a bit on this, my 500th post here at Second Drafts. The reason is partly due to the fact that I haven't had much to write about (or time to write about it), and partly because I've been waiting for just the right topic to inspire me for this post's supposed significance.

Significance, however, is overrated. So, to bring some closure (at least for now), I thought I'd give you a peek into what I'll be doing over the next four months and simply call it a post. Of course, I may throw a picture or thought up here every now and then just to surprise folks, but for now, consider this the official start of my blogging sabbatical.

In the meantime, here's what I plan to be doing:

May
1-3: First official Dunham family camping trip of the season
8-10: Meet with potential ThirtySomewhere publishers in Colorado Springs
14-15: Covenant Seminary baccalaureate/graduation
23: Westminster Christian Academy graduation
29: School's out for summer

June
ThirtySomewhere writing/editing
Covenant Seminary Bookstore (one day a week)
5-7: Clayton Community Theatre's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
12-14: Clayton Community Theatre's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
15-27: Westminster Christian Academy Summer Seminar in South Dakota
29: St. Louis Cardinals game

July
ThirtySomewhere writing/editing
Covenant Seminary Bookstore (one day a week)
19-25: Dunham family trip to Florida
27: St. Louis Cardinals game

August
ThirtySomewhere writing/editing
Covenant Seminary Bookstore (one day a week)
10: St. Louis Cardinals game
13: Westminster Christian Academy first day of school
31: ThirtySomewhere manuscript to publisher

In terms of the work, I tend to write best in the early morning, so when I'm not traveling or working the bookstore, my daily schedule will involve getting up at 4:30 or 5 a.m., writing for 3-4 hours, and then editing/revising a couple hours that afternoon. My goal will be 1500-2000 solid words (about 4-5 pages, double-spaced) per day. If I can put together 100-125 good pages and edit them together with roughly the same number from Doug by end of summer, we'll be in great shape.

So, stay tuned/subscribed for the occasional pic or progress report, but any prayers and general words of encouragement for the project are greatly appreciated.

Have a great summer.

Approaching Normality?

"Normality: being within certain limits that define the range of normal functioning."

I've not been motivated to write much of late as 1) there's been so little interaction here on the site the past two months; and 2) I'm up to my eyeballs reading and writing. For those anticipating email from me for one reason or another, hang in there - it's coming.

As it's now March, I'm newly-stoked about the fact that, in roughly 2 1/2 months, I'll be on the backside of a seminary degree and another school year of teaching. This summer will mark our fifth year in St. Louis, which doesn't really seem possible. Time flies when you're in transition, I guess, and it's felt like we've been in transition most of that time.

Thankfully, it's beginning to feel less transitory, and I hope this trend continues as we expect getting a more "normal" summer under our belts. Currently, I have no plans to 1) take summer classes; 2) buy a house; nor 3) move. I do plan to go to South Dakota again with 25 WCA high schoolers in June, possibly make a trip to a beach in Florida with Megan and the girls in July, and finish (finally) writing the ThirtySomewhere book with Doug by mid-August, but that's about it (and that's enough).

Between now and then, I've got a downstairs at home to fix up and paint over Spring Break, six hours of course credit to finish at Covenant, and four commandments and half of the New Testament left to teach (not to mention all the grading that goes with that). I've also got plenty of husbanding and parenting to do, so that should keep me out of trouble.

In many ways, it feels like I'm coming to the end of a particular chapter of life. How do I know a new chapter might be beginning? Several reasons, but mostly because U2's got a new album coming out tomorrow, and that usually means something cosmically significant for us (more on that, perhaps, in a future post).

Faith's Geography

Trying to finish up a reflection paper tonight. Here's my intro:

Faith's Geography “Yahweh’s intention for his people (Israel) is that they enjoy the good life…the land comes to symbolize the life with Yahweh in ideal conditions, a quality of life which might be characterized as the abundant life.” Dr. Elmer A. Martens, God’s Design: A Focus on Old Testament Theology

“Geography – it’s everywhere.” Dr. Kit Salter, University of Missouri School of Geography

I was a geography major in my undergrad days at the University of Missouri. I like to boast that this fact uniquely qualifies me to read roadmaps, but that’s about the extent of my abilities. Instead of map-making or map-reading, I was more interested in cultural geography’s preoccupation with the question, “Did people shape the land or did the land shape people?” The answer was always “yes;” the work was determining the degrees of each.

My study of the Old Testament this fall reacquainted me with my cultural geography roots. In following the nation of Israel from its beginning with Abram in Ur, through its migration to Egypt by Jacob and Joseph, to its Exodus into the wilderness led by Moses, to its conquest of the Promised Land under Joshua, through its struggles of settlement under the Judges, to its glories of the Davidic monarchy in Jerusalem, to its exile to the lands of Assyria and Babylon, and finally to its Palestinian return under Persia, there is (pardon the pun) much ground to cover as to the impact of the land on Israel and Israel's influence on it. For as Elmer Martens observes, “Statistically, land is a more dominant theme (in the Bible) than covenant."

Yeah, so it's a stretch, but I'm running with it (gotta make that undergrad degree seem worth something somehow). In the meantime, here's something actually worth reading - a poem by Sean Kinsella I came across in the journal First Things. I liked it.

the geography of my faith

this is the tent of my anticipation

at the entrance of which Sarah laughing stands

this is the hilltop of my affliction

upon which Isaac lies bewildered bound 

this is the spring of my abandonment

to which Hagar has weeping fled 

this is the mill of my aspirations

at which Samson blinded labors 

this is the geography of my faith

in which in me my Saviour lives

Putting the "Part-Time" in "Part-Time Student"

My seminary education has perhaps reached the tipping point where the cost required in terms of money, time, and energy is beginning to outweigh the degree's value theologically, professionally, and personally. God willing, I'm due to finish in May (at least with one degree), but I'm afraid I'm going to be disappointed by what I finish with when it's all said and done.

The problem is this: after four years of study (two full-time, two part-time), all I'm going to end up with is an MA in Theological Studies, which is normally only a two-year program. Most of the classes I took at the MDiv level covered the requirements for the MATS, but the degree is not going to reflect all that work. Several MDiv courses are MDiv only (preaching classes, for instance), so I've paid for hours that don't count for MATS requirements (though I'm sure they've been of benefit, cost not withstanding). 

I recognize that I did this to myself by first switching to part-time last year in order to teach full-time, then making the switch from the MDiv program to the MATS earlier this year because of schedule complications and language struggles. At the time (and even still), my choices seemed limited because of circumstances (children needing to eat, failing Hebrew twice, etc.), so I went in a different direction from my initial one, letting go of the MDiv in the process and assuming the MATS would still stimulate.

Unfortunately, the MATS courses I'm taking now are much less challenging than their MDiv counterparts; though the workloads are similar in terms of amount of reading and papers, the content is much less technical and engaging (barely a step above a decent Sunday School class) and I'm bored. Weekend classes (like the one I'm taking this weekend on the Ancient Near East) tend to be too big and designed for folks interested in general explanations I've already studied rather than the more esoteric aspects of the Scripture that I haven't. All this too quickly enables my preference to blend into the crowd and multi-task on something else (this post, for example), and I feel like I'm spinning my wheels.

Here's an illustration of what I'm talking about: I have 40 papers (I'm not kidding - a two-page reflection for each of the 39 Old Testament books of the Bible, as well as one five-page paper) due between now and the end of November. I haven't started on any of them, mostly because I'm not too motivated to write reflections I know no one is really going to read with any kind of technical eye (not to mention the fact that I often write blog posts longer than these assignments and they're not going to take me all that long to do).

Granted, the purpose of the assignment may be to get students to interact with the Scripture at a personal level, but knowing the evaluation of said assignment will be little more than a completion grade given by some T.A. who has to read a hundred other sets of reflections is not really motivating to me. It's what I call a "plop value" assignment; if it's got good "plop" when you drop it on a desk, you get an A.

So much of what I studied the first two years was at a much deeper level than I am studying now, and the let-down of needing to study with little more effort than I put in at college (which was minimal) is palpable. I miss my full-time days of seminary and the single-focus of that time; in some ways it was harder because of all the extenuating circumstances (tiny apartment on campus, tons of technical reading, Greek and Hebrew out the wazoo), but it was easier, too, as the phrase "I'm in seminary" meant I was solely working full-time on Covenant's most comprehensive degree.

I suppose one could argue for the blessing of a lighter load in the midst of everything else (full-time job, wife, four children, etc.), but it doesn't work that way for me. Instead, I find myself sympathizing with the semi-sad narrative of the baseball player who couldn't make it in the major leagues and is now playing AA ball somewhere. The good news is he's still playing baseball; the bad news is he's not playing it in the bigs. In case you've never been to a major or minor league baseball game, the difference is vast: sure, the fields are similar and the rules are the same, but the way things are played on the field is, as the saying goes, a whole different ballgame.

Harry Potter for Presbyterians

The Reformed folk of the world (among others) are gearing up for the release of the new ESV Study Bible on Wednesday. Around these parts (especially if you're a seminary student), it's going to be insane. I think of it as Harry Potter for Presbyterians.

This past Thursday, when I arrived at Covenant's bookstore to work my afternoon shift, I saw 25 unopened orange, white, and black boxes in the back, just waiting to be "received" (the term we use for the process of entering new books into the system before putting them on the shelves). Thinking it might be a good idea to go ahead and process the new ESVs, I giddily asked my boss, Nick, if I could open a box, to which he responded that we're not supposed to open them until Tuesday. What!? Wait until Tuesday!? It's not like we're going to give away the story! Sigh.

Respecting Nick's wishes, I received some other boxes of books, periodically glancing through the door to the back and trying to figure out how to get my grubby hands on one of the new Bibles without Nick knowing. I could open a box, take a look, and then re-tape it (unfortunately, our tape is clear and their tape was white); I could open a box and say it was already opened (presumably by Dave, my co-worker who worked the morning shift), but Nick would never believe me (and Dave would never do that). Nothing like questionable employee integrity at a bookstore that espouses a Christian worldview (or the fact that I teach Ethics for a living at a Christian high school) for irony.

I resisted two hours of temptation on Thursday and survived, but I've got another two-hour shift on Monday that will surely test my mettle. Thankfully, I work Tuesday afternoon, so I'll finally get one (free for employees!) without having to deal with the hundreds of PCAers the next morning who will have camped out that night dressed as their favorite Bible character to be first in line to get their own personal copy.

I'm guessing I'll miss the bulk of those sitting on the floor frantically reading while they wait to check out, not to mention Nick dressed up like Moses, holding out a copy of the ESV in each hand. I'll probably also miss all the squeals of surprise at the 200-plus full-color maps and the gasps of joy at the 20,000 notes written by "a team of 95 outstanding evangelical Bible scholars and teachers," including several of my professors from Covenant.

Indeed, by my Thursday afternoon shift, the store will probably be completely ravaged from the events of the day before, and it will fall to me to deal with all the empty boxes and jostled books. I'll work my shift knowing that folks will probably still be cuddled up with their new ESV Bibles, refusing to come out of their apartments and homes until they read the book cover to cover. As I'm shelving whatever few copies remain from our massive 25-box order, I'll smile at the thought of dozens more readers accessing the ESV's special online resources, reliving the Bible in a kind of digital glory. It will be a magical day. J.K. Rowling would be proud. And, I think, God will be pleased.

Anybody getting an ESV on Wednesday?

The Reverse

As mortgage payments tend to be more than the rent kind, I started a second job this week working part-time in Covenant Seminary's bookstore. It's a good schedule for me that works with my teaching: Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays from 4-6 p.m., and about every other Saturday from 9:30-2:30. In addition, Megan will cover the Saturday shift occasionally, as well as do some work for the bookstore once its new website launches later next month.

Our new bosses are the bookstore's new owners, Nick and Suzanne Gleason, both of whom we've known for a few years and attend church with at Memorial. Nick worked in the bookstore for several years' worth of seminary days, and just last month bought the store from its previous owner. The Gleasons are now in the process of building upon the bookstore's "good books" reputation, as well as improving some systems and general use of space at the seminary that, well, need some improving.

This is the first time I've ever worked a job in retail, and I confess I've gone back and forth on whether I'm cut out for it. Whereas Megan's personality (ISTJ) and past experience (she worked at several home decorating/fabric stores in high school, as well as ran the bookstore at Eagle Lake for years) lend themselves well to a retail environment, yours truly felt like a fish out of water, gutted, and packed in a can on my first day. The cash register scared me; the credit card machine even more so. It's no fun learning a job while physically handling other people's money...in front of them.

Halfway through my second day, I was feeling better about the technical end of things, that is until a semi-huge wave of insecurity washed over me as I was adjusting books and restocking inventory. A professor at the seminary had walked in, seen me, and the conversation went something like this:

Him: "Hey! Good to see you. Are you helping out in the bookstore today?"

Me: "No. I'm a new employee."

Him: "So you're not teaching anymore?"

Me: "Oh, I'm still teaching."

Him: (puzzled look) "Oh."

Me: (sheepish look) "Yeah."

I'm not sure why I was slightly embarrassed; it certainly wasn't because of my part-time job (books? are you kidding?), nor does it have anything to do with my full-time job (teaching the Bible on a daily basis? what more could I want?). Maybe it's that I'm having to work two jobs to make ends meet, but even then I'm grateful God is providing for our family through both of them.

No, I think my insecurity stemmed from my realization that I seem to have an uncanny knack for doing just about everything in reverse order, which has to be some kind of corollary of George Castanza's "opposite" theory. Here are just three examples (there are more) of my "reverse" tendencies:

• Go into ministry full-time for 12 years, then attend seminary


• Get a job teaching full-time, then take education classes


• Write a book, then work in a bookstore

What's next? Keep a blog, then become narcissistic?

Summarizing on a Saturday

I recognize the past week has been less than impressive in terms of original content. Here's an attempt at righting that wrong:

1. As I see it, the selection of Joe Biden as Barack Obama's running mate makes a lot of sense...in the short term. Biden personifies age and diplomacy more than Obama does, and his infamous tongue will serve well in swatting away John McCain's attacks, thereby letting Obama do what he does best in focusing on the positive. Long term, though, the Democrats are going to be stuck after eight years, as no one's going to elect Biden because of his age, and I don't think even Hillary will be in the picture by then (though I still wouldn't count her out in this race - stranger things have happened).

2. If McCain chooses Mitt Romney, I think he's done. The two don't even like each other, and both bolster the "rich, white guy" stereotype that unfortunately marks the Republican party. Maybe this is why Romney is actually a VP possiblity - it sends a message to the conservative base that McCain really is one of them - but that's not going to be too motivating to moderates and undecideds weary of the stereotype. Picking Romney doesn't seem very much of a maverick move for the Maverick, but I'm not sure who else in the Republican party would be. How about Ron Paul?

3. With the Olympics finishing up tomorrow, I have mixed feelings about these Games in China. My hope is that, through all the interaction with other countries and greater exposure to democracy, something would stir in China that, down the road, would bring real change to the lives of her citizens. My fear, however, is that any such seed will be rooted out, no thanks to the softened stance of mainstream American journalists (particularly NBC, who patronizingly broadcasted the Games) and the IOC's UN-like oversight of the whole spectacle in general. It will be interesting to see what comes of the investigation of China's women's little girls' gymnastics team, and what the world's response will be to the verdict (if indeed any is given).

4. I register for fall classes at Covenant this coming week, and then start the following Tuesday. I wish I had a little more of a breather between my summer course and the beginning of five new hours this semester, but I don't get to vote. If all goes well, I should finish a master's in theological studies in May of 2009 (that's this coming spring!) and a master's in educational ministries in May of 2010. Neither is that far away, but it still feels like miles to go before I sleep, as these folks must similarly feel.

5. Speaking of sleep, I have an uncanny ability to get some. I swear I was asleep twenty seconds after my head hit the pillow every night this week. My co-teacher, Larry Hughes, says I must have a clear conscience; I assure him it's just that I'm tired.

6. I really like my classes at Westminster, and boy howdy, is it ever easier doing this the second time around. Whereas the first year seemed so much like walking in the dark and trying to teach something along the way, this year would seem to be the one in which I really figure out what exactly I'm teaching and the best way to teach it. I've got a great schedule, some cool kids (ones I've had and ones I haven't), and I'm pretty pumped about taking bigger steps this year toward being a great teacher.

7. The new header above is not final. My friend, Kent, is playing with a couple design ideas after some feedback I gave him on the one above, so I should have the final one up soon. Hang with me.

I've got pictures and smoke detectors to hang, a few books to finish, and some email to catch up on this weekend, so I'll wrap it up. If you're still around, thanks for reading.

Thank You, Sir, May I Have Another?

Here's a look at the reading list for the Spirit, Church, and Last Things class with Dr. Robert Peterson I'm taking online this summer:

• Berkhof, Louis - Systematic Theology


• Clowney, Edmund - The Church


• Ferguson, Sinclair - The Holy Spirit


• Fudge, Edward & Peterson, Robert - Two Views of Hell: A Biblical & Theological Dialogue


• Hoekema, Anthony - The Bible and the Future


• Letham, Robert - The Lord’s Supper


• Peterson, Robert - Hell on Trial: The Case for Eternal Punishment


• Peterson, Robert & Williams, Michael - Why I Am Not an Arminian


• Westminster Confession of Faith

Thirty-eight lectures, ten weeks, nine books, multiple syllabus readings - classic Doc P.

Summer Plans

My friend, Ed, asked for a post on what summer holds. Here it is.

1. I'm one of seven Westminster teachers taking 28 high school students on Summer Seminar to South Dakota for two weeks in June. Over the course of a 12-day trip to and through the Badlands and Black Hills of South Dakota, students will explore the theme of “shalom” (restoration) through three, two-day course cores in literature, ethics, and science. The culmination of the course will be a writing project that integrates a travel journal, a guided project (literary analysis of readings, poetry, photography, etc.), and their understanding of the Christian worldview (I'm in charge of this "integration" part). Should be fun.

2. Speaking of Westminster, I'm hoping to take a half-day a week to work on my teaching. I've kept a semi-detailed calendar of what I covered (either intentionally or unintentionally) each day this past school year, and I'd like to give that some evaluation and attention in order to figure out what I actually taught and how to do it better. Armed with some honest feedback from my students and revised scopes and sequences from the Bible department, I want to put some good work into how to teach as a more effective translator.

3. In addition to thinking about teaching, I'll be participating in a class offered by Covenant titled "Spirit, Church, and Last Things" online this summer. After my experience with Ancient & Medieval Church History this past semester (good class, but I wasn't as consistent as I wanted to be in keeping up), I'm not all that thrilled about online learning, but you do what you've got to get in the classes you need to finish a degree.

4. I've got piles of books from a variety of genres that I want to read. Personally, I'd also like to get back to more devotional reading and journal writing as, for better or worse, the blog has taken over the time I have in the past done both, and I can feel the difference in heart and hand. There's just no replacement for meditative reading and writing, but I've not done much of either for a long while. Oh yeah, I'm also supposed to be writing/finishing the first draft of a book this summer.

5. I'm working on some leader development training and initiatives for Memorial for this summer and fall, and hope to do some planning/recruiting for those. Unfortunately, this is an area that got bumped to the back burner this past school year because of my first year teaching, but I'm glad for the request and opportunity to still be involved in this way a year later. I think our family is also going to start attending a small group over the summer, which should be interesting (I'm not really much of a small group guy).

6. While I've not really gained any significant weight, I'd like to shed some pounds and actually get back on an exercise regimen of some sort. For whatever reason, I just enjoy exercising my brain much more than I do my body. Guess I'm just too Neo-Platonic for my own good.

7. We may get some tickets to a couple Cards games in July - just when it's hot enough to really be miserable. I imagine I'll do a fair amount of yard mowing, grilling, and sweating this summer, not to mention cursing the I-64 construction still going on (it will be interesting to see how increased tourist traffic during the summer months affects things; so far, we've managed, but it's getting old).

8. We'll also make a few weekend trips to the farm over the summer, as there's nothing better than sitting with a cold glass of iced tea out on the back patio listening to the corn grow. I'm sure there will be pictures.

9. While buying a house and moving is, I suppose, still a possibility over the next couple of months, the further we get into summer, the less excited I'm going to be about it. Obviously if the bank warms to our terms soon, we're not going to walk away from things, but we're not exactly going house-hunting either.

10. Of course, the best part about summer will be being home more with Megan and the girls - playing in the backyard, going to the library, reading books, renting and watching a flick, seeing friends, and just being a family. We've tried to keep formal activities for the little ladies to a minimum, so we're hoping it will be pretty laidback. I want/need to read to them more at night (Megan's been handling most of that all school year), as I don't want to miss the window here - they're all just growing up so too fast.

In a nutshell, that's our summer.

Dostoevsky on World History

While cramming lectures for my online church history class (which, as of today, I have 10 days to complete), I came across this quote from Dostoevsky's Notes from Underground:

"You can say anything you like about world history, anything that might enter the head of a man with the most disordered imagination. One thing, though, you cannot possibly say about it: you cannot say that it is sensible."

My thoughts exactly on the Medieval/Dark Ages period of the Church.

Five Things of Late

1. I can't remember where I read it, but I've been thinking a lot about the idea that, with the proliferation of so many news/infotainment sites, headlines tend to be more and more alarmist in nature so as to capture (and re-capture) readership. No wonder the world feels like it's falling apart at such a frightening rate as of late.

2. Though I'll always be a baseball fan first, soccer is starting to grow on me. I've been watching Westminster's girls varsity soccer games the past couple of weeks with my 6- and 4-year-olds and the constant action has been fun for them and for me. It also helps that we've been winning.

3. The month of May is filling fast with end-of-the-school-year events, seminary graduation parties, ballet and choir recitals for the girls, and other various and sundry challenges to finishing my remaining assignments for my own classes. I've blocked the next three Saturdays in hopes of wrapping up, but it's going to be close.

4. Teaching the Eighth Commandment and pleading with my sophomores and juniors to apply God's Word to their (illegal) music downloading/sharing practices may just get me killed. To their credit, some students are really wrestling with the issue now, even publicly asking for prayer at the end of class for the desire to change their ways. Hard but encouraging.

5. It seems like I'm reading a lot but not finishing much at all. I'd list the half-read titles here, but they'll be the same in another month, so I'll spare you the details. One thing's for sure: I'm going on a fiction binge at the end of May.

A Degree of Transition

A reader named Kevin recently left a comment inquiring as to my reasons for transitioning from a Masters of Divinity to MA degrees in theological studies and educational ministries at Covenant. As I just wrote my official transition request letter to the seminary faculty a couple of weeks ago, I thought I'd post it here for him (and anyone else) who might be interested.

Obviously, there's a lot more to a decision like this than a one-page letter can capture, but for the sake of everybody's attention spans, this should suffice for now. Feel free to leave a comment if you want more specifics and I'll be glad to share a few (or at least make some up).

Dear Covenant Faculty,

This letter is an appeal for your approval of my request to transition from Covenant's M.Div. track to a dual-track of M.A.T.S. and M.A.E.M., effective at the end of this spring semester. My reasons for making this change stem from both calling and common sense.

In 2005, my main reason for coming to Covenant was to invite new voices of input to speak into my life – personally, emotionally, spiritually, theologically. I had little aspiration to pursue ordained pastoral ministry, but had set my sights on the M.Div. nonetheless, as it was the most comprehensive degree Covenant offered.

After two years as a full-time seminary student, as well as this past year as a part-time student also teaching full-time at Westminster Christian Academy, a switch from the M.Div. to a double masters in theological studies and educational ministries seems apropos to equip me in my call to write at a popular level and teach at a high school level.

If all goes according to plan, I anticipate finishing the M.A.T.S. one year from now, then completing the M.A.E.M. the following year. The conclusion of these degrees is important not only for what it represents of my studies, but also for the sake of beginning to reallocate resources of time and finances to our four daughters’ education.

Megan and I look forward to staying in St. Louis after completing these degrees. In addition to our involvement at Memorial Presbyterian, I plan to continue teaching at Westminster in the areas of Biblical Ethics and New Testament, as well as be of any help to the seminary (and The Schaeffer Institute) that I can.

All that said, I would appreciate your endorsement of our plan by approving this request. It goes without saying, but thank you for your investment in my life and ministry in my time at Covenant. I count it a privilege to have had this opportunity to learn from you.

Gratefully,

Craig Dunham

PS: For more information about my thought process, please consult Drs. Douglass, Guthrie, or Barrs, as they have been on the receiving end (perhaps to their chagrin) of most of my degree transition conversations and know my heart in the matter.

I'll let you know what the faculty say when I hear back from them next week.

No Joke

I had an appointment for some academic advising at Covenant this afternoon and, in the process of doing the old degree audit and figuring out what I've taken and what I still need to take, I got some good news this April Fool's Day.

Barring any major screw-ups, I should finish my MA in Theological Studies one year from now. More good news: if class scheduling works out, I could be done with my MA in Educational Ministries the following spring.

Then I's bonafide.

Bittersweet Break

Due to either brilliant planning or pathetic procrastination, my Westminster Spring Break is turning out to be more about remembering what it's like to be a full-time student than what it's like to be a teacher with a week off. On the docket:

• Listen to seven 45-minute lectures, read five chapters, complete a study guide, and take the mid-term for my Ancient & Medieval Church History class


• Write a 5-page paper for my Children's Ministry class


• Write two CD reviews and a 10-page paper for my Music & Theology class

I'm spending today at Covenant with two main purposes in mind:

1. To get away and focus (the Catacombs are a bit too chilly and noisy for extended periods of time studying)


2. To schedule some academic advising in response to Covenant's publication of next year's class schedule (if all goes well, I may actually be able to finish my Masters degree in Theological Studies a year from now)

I'm preparing myself this morning for somewhat of a bittersweet encounter, namely going to my first seminary chapel all year. In addition to seeing lots of familiar faces and sitting through an optional mid-week chapel whose participants are actually interested (unlike the mandatory weekly high school chapels I'm used to refereeing), my friend Ronnie is preaching.

Ronnie and I started seminary in the same Beginning Greek class almost three years ago. He (along with Rob, Tom, Mitchell, Josh, Mike, and dozens of others) are graduating this May with an actual Masters of Divinity degree after 36 solid months of ridiculous class loads and more Hebrew than I ever wanted (or was able) to endure.

While I'm happy and proud of all of them for gutting it out these past three years, I confess I'm more than a little sheepish about showing up today in my part-time, four-year, non-language, theological studies kind of way. Though none of them possess a superiority complex because of our divergent seminary paths, I (like the 14-year-old I perpetually think of myself as) am able to provide enough of an inferiority complex for all of us.

Indeed, I'm that gifted.

That said, I'm looking forward to what God will teach me today - about his unconditional love, about his sovereign plan, about the community of his people. I need to learn more about these things today, as they may be the only things that get me through this week of full-time seminary student studies with hope instead of drudgery as my companion.

Becoming More Like Them (part 2)

I resonate with Campagnola’s assessment, particularly when she writes:

“The contemporary church has often understood this verse (Matthew 18:3) to teach what great kingdom citizen character looks like – a child-like faith, humble and meek and ever ready to believe in Jesus. But Jesus took the disciples beyond the questions of character and greatness and challenged their theology of salvation and kingdom life. He made the child the reference point for:

• conversion – change and become like little children…to enter the kingdom
• community – become like little children in order to exemplify kingdom life
• calamity – unless you change…you will never enter the kingdom of heaven

He unfolds this in the subsequent verses with parallel language: change is evident when you humble yourself like this child; become is evident when you welcome a little child like this in my name; calamity awaits you if you cause one of these little ones to sin.” (72-73)

The way this challenges me is by revealing my lack of faith in thinking children are just little people we have to deal with because they’re young. How many times have I wondered what the early church did with their members’ children? How many ways have I imagined that, somehow, children must have been more godly then since their parents were who God was working through to begin the church? Answer: too many times to mention without embarrassment at my untamed idealism, to be sure.

Rather than lamenting that I have to deal with kids in church because (darn it) they’re young and not adults yet, how would my heart change if my default mentality was more along the lines that I get to minister to them because they’re young and not adults yet? What would that feel like for me, and (as importantly), what would it feel like for them?

I physically cringed at Campagnola’s statement that, “Children are seen as a distraction, and indeed they can be distracting as they respond to what is happening in worship and teaching that does not reflect their presence” (73), but not as much as I did when I read her follow-up questions 14 pages later: ““Is this relevant? Is this transferable to contemporary culture? Is there room in the ethics and handling of children for this perspective? Is there room in modern churches? Who is distracting whom?” (87).

Then it hits me: when we in the church refuse to become child-like, we are being childish; in not wanting to bring our children “into our midst,” we are being selfish; in not considering our children as “models of kingdom life,” we are being proud; in not looking to our children as “mirrors of kingdom hearts,” we are being blind; and in not honoring our children as “martyrs of kingdom rejection,” we are being unjust.

Is this the kind of existence Jesus calls us to embrace? Hardly. Is this the kind of life Paul calls us to forsake? Indeed. Perhaps we should spend more time wondering about children and their place in the church and less time thinking about adults and their place in heaven.

By Jesus’ own words, I wonder if there will be any adults in heaven anyway.

Becoming More Like Them (part 1)

“I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Jesus, Matthew 18:3

“If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up, not me!” Peter Pan, “I Won’t Grow Up”

Child-like. Childish. In most adult minds, there are few differences between the two, as evidenced by most church children’s ministries' desire that kids forsake childish ways in exchange for a more adult variety. After all, wasn’t it Paul who said, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me”? Indeed.

But there’s a difference between being “child-like” and “childish.” Shelly Campagnola, in her article in the book, Children's Spirituality, paints a powerful picture of child-likeness – not for children (after all, a kid is as close to being a child as one can get) but for adults. She writes:

“What does it mean to become like a child? It means to see children from God’s redemptive perspective, and to become like children from the culture’s perspective. The child is on the outside, not included in the inner circle of those who think they have the way to God. The child is on the bottom, not considered eligible for recognition or participation and thus does not seek those. The child is powerless, voiceless, defenseless, claimless, forgotten and forsaken. The child is the one who is brought to Jesus, not one who assumes access. The child is the one pulled out of the gutter by a hand that says he does not belong there even when everyone else says he does.” (86-87)

Becoming child-like is not about being young-at-heart, but about being young, period; it’s not about children becoming more like us, but about us becoming more like them.

It's for the Kids

In a class on the topic of children's ministry this weekend at Covenant. Regardless of how what I learn gets used in the church, having four kids in the age range, I'm interested (I figure it’s time to go back and learn what I thought I already knew about children and any ministry to them - like many, I did all my best parenting before I had kids).

Personally, the musty church basement of the Griggsville United Methodist Church was a warm place for me when I was a child in Sunday School. I remember being fascinated by the stories and characters of the Bible, singing songs, and knowing my teacher would be there every Sunday. In retrospect, this was the beginning of God drawing me to Himself.

By my standards today, I would not consider any aspect of my Sunday School experience particularly biblical or well done – the moralistic curricula played into my perfectionist tendencies; the songs were cheeseball and the piano was always slightly out of tune; and I always sensed that there was unspoken tension among the teachers as to who got which room (they were all different sizes), who was the better teacher (we kids had favorites), and whether each of them truly believed what they taught (sadly, children’s ministry was and still is the victim of the wretched “warm body” recruit).

Yet I include my experiences as ones God used to reach me. Unlike Richard Dawkins’ argument in The God Delusion that “natural selection builds child brains with a tendency to believe whatever their parents and tribal elders tell them” (p. 205), I believe that, despite imperfect curricula, less-than-ideal space, and adults who had barely more knowledge and understanding of the Scriptures than I did at the time, God designed me – as he has all of the elect – to respond to Him, even (and often) at a young age.

God laid enough of a foundation of faith during my childhood to hold the weight of my first real spiritual steps to become a Christian at age 14. If He could do this despite the inadequacies of my church’s children’s ministry, I wonder what He would do through redeeming curricula, good space, and teachers called and trained to minister to children.

Indeed, I wonder.

On Reading, Thinking, Learning

The best part about education is the worst part about education: the more you learn, the more you realize how much there is to learn. And then comes the worst realization of all: there's no way or time to learn it all. And that stinks.

I experience this sensation everytime I walk into a library or bookstore and remind myself again that, if I manage to average reading 60 books a year and even live to be 100, I'll only have read 6,000 books in my lifetime (and that's counting younger years of my life when I didn't read 60 books a year, so it would be less). This thought makes me very sad.

All that said, of late I've been reading a few books on some challenging topics, namely Islam and evolution; the title of the former is Religion of Peace? Why Christianity Is and Islam Isn't by Robert Spencer, and the latter is The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. I'm still working through them, intrigued by the arguments, perspectives, and applications of each.

In addition, I read The Sunflower: On the Possibilities and Limits of Forgiveness by Simon Wiesenthal, a memoir of a Jewish concentration camp prisoner asked by a dying Nazi soldier for forgiveness. The last half of the book is a compendium of short essay responses from 53 "distinguished" men and women (theologians, political leaders, writers, jurists, psychiatrists, human rights activists, Holocaust surivovrs, and victims of attempted genocide) and their opinions on what Wisenthal should have done (he did nothing). Interesting to think through.

This weekend, I need to begin immersing myself in the world of Ancient and Medieval Church History, as I'm taking my first Access class through Covenant. I'm supposed to work through thirty-six recorded lectures by Dr. David Calhoun and volume 1 of Justo L. Gonzalez's book, The Story of Christianity, no later than May 15th. There are also quizzes, tests, and a project. Even then, I'll just be scratching the surface of all that went on from the time of the early church until the Reformation. Nuts.

I'm taking two other classes at Covenant this spring (Children's Ministry and Youth Ministry Across Culture), but those are each a weekend class, so they shouldn't be too bad. This is good, as I still need to help my own students make sense of all the letters of the New Testament and the last four of the Ten Commandments (like there's any way to cover any of those to the depth I want to in the course of a semester).

Which brings me back to my original thought: the more I learn, the more I want to learn, and the more frustrating I become that I can't learn it all, even in a hundred lifetimes. My hope for Heaven is that we don't get to just download everything we don't know in one fell swoop; I'd rather have to learn it, as at least then I'll have plenty of time to do so.

That's Not Natural

I started the first of my seminary reading this past weekend in preparation for my classes beginning this week. I'm taking two night classes that meet once a week and total five credit hours: Tuesday night's class is Educational Foundations; Thursday night's class is Ministry Leadership. Both look to be a fair amount of work on top of everything else, but at least it's mostly reading and writing (as opposed to translating and exegeting).

In the Leadership Handbook of Management and Administration (one of the lamest-named book series on the planet edited by James D. Berkley), James Earl Massey penned some challenging words in chapter 3, titled "Our Responsibility to God":

"Those concerned about godliness will naturally seek methods for creating and sustaining openness to God. They will give themselves to planned times of prayer, corporate worship, open dialogue with other believers, the devotional study of Scripture, and moments of meditation. These methods of openness are really creative responses to the initiative God has shown in sharing his gracious Presence with us. Each of these methods helps us to sense the Holy and stimulate us to receive the vitality that is available to us by the grace of God."

Naturally? For whatever reason and as long as I can remember, everything listed above mostly happened (and still does) by way of a lot of work. I'm not sure what this means, other than I've probably spent way too much time trying to figure out what is or isn't godliness, instead of "naturally" gravitating toward it in some form or fashion.

Of course, the problem with a paragraph like the one above is that it is presented as an idealistic summary statement rather than understood as a realistic progression toward a goal. Indeed, I've enjoyed seasons in which one or more of the aforementioned elements was in play, but all of them all of the time, not so much (and rarely "naturally").

Massey goes on to say:

"The point is that we, with our specialized knowledge of God and leadership positions and spiritual skills, can fall victim to a false sense of security. We must remember that in teaching others about God, we must know God ourselves; that in calling others to faith, we must be believers, too; that in feeding others, we must eat of the food that will nourish our souls as well. Like everyone else, we too need help to grow spiritually."

I resonate much more with this statement, probably because I feel the hypocrisy described within it on an everyday basis. There's no worse feeling in the world than teaching what you are not necessarily experiencing at the moment; or asking of others what you yourself seem unwilling or unable to give at the time; or serving others when it is you yourself who want or need to be served.

I don't want it to be this way, but sometimes it is. All I have is the hope that grace will somehow cover me (again) in the interim, and that what seems so unnatural in the past and present may somehow become less so in the future.

Dinner with New Seminary Folks

We had some new seminary folks over for dinner last night (clockwise, left to right): Rick, Ian, Billy, me, Kristin, Jake (holding little Max), and Wes.

Megan did her usual bang-up job in the hospitality department, and the girls (not pictured, but still close by at their own "little ladies" table) loved entertaining and giving tours of Half Pint House.

Me? I tried to summarize some of what I've learned in the past two years at Covenant without sounding too much like a know-it-all.

Yeah, I know.

Cheaters Never Prosper (But I So Wanted to Try)

Believe it or not, I can count on one hand the times I've cheated to get an advantage over someone else. I remember letting my eyes range free a couple times in elementary school to look at someone else's paper on a test. I also recall feeling badly after one exam I took during my freshman year in college when I accidentally saw (but then purposely used) one answer to a tough multiple-choice question on the paper belonging to the person in front of me.

In sports, apart from occasionally "faking" the taking of a charge in basketball ("acting" might be a better phrase - I never went down unless I got hit), in baseball I never scuffed up a pitch, threw a spitball, or pine-tarred a bat too high. For the most part, I was a pretty good kid whose mostly average test scores and physical abilities gave him little reason to try ridiculously harder than he should to achieve/maintain some sort of academic or athletic perfection - I had neither.

Well, this pretty good, mostly average kid about met his match (and almost gave in) to an incredibly strong temptation to cheat on his Christ & Salvation final exam today. By God's grace, I didn't, but I was dumbfounded as to how very much I wanted to. It was scary.

While I can't really go into detail as to the content of the test, suffice it to say the reason I wanted to cheat was because I felt I owed it to myself because I had studied - not as much as some guys, but plenty for me. So, when I was asked to define a particular past Christological heresy, build a case against it from the Scriptures, present a proper doctrinal understanding, and then make application for a modern-day congregation, I couldn't believe that, after all the studying I did, I could not for the life of me remember the heresy's definition.

And that was bad, since correctly answering the question required correctly defining the term. And not correctly defining the term was going to cost me at least 20% of my exam grade.

Only having three hours to take the exam (and needing every precious minute when it was said and done), I skipped the question and finished the rest of the test, doing okay on most of it (though there was one other section about which I had no clue or time, so I let it go).

But then, with just fifteen minutes to go, I came back to the first question, stared at it, and racked my brain trying to remember the definition I so desperately needed. And that's when the temptation got really bad. My mind fell into a trance of sorts, and all I could think about was how to get the answer without getting caught.

I knew I couldn't pull a book out of my bag as my classmates would notice; however, as I was sitting in the back row and typing the exam on a laptop (like most of the others in my class), I could easily have pulled up my notes right there on the screen or even jumped to Wikipedia for a basic answer to get me going in the right direction. No one would have ever noticed.

After about five minutes of mental gymnastics trying to figure out both how and if I was going to do any of this, I read the last part of the exam at the bottom of the last page. It said:

"Write and sign your own honor statement."

Since I still couldn't remember the definition I needed to the first question, I went ahead and wrote out an honor statement, attaching a digital file of my signature at the bottom. It read:

"As much as I wanted to on the first two sections, I did not cheat by looking anything up on the Internet or in my computer files (except for my digital signature below) while taking any of this exam. By God’s grace, I was/am honest."

It was when I saw my name come up that I snapped out of my cheater trance. I came up with what I thought was the definition I needed (though in checking my notes afterward, it wasn't right, so don't think this story is going to end with a pretty little bow on top), typed a few bullet points out with proof texts, cobbled together a quick paragraph to try to explain a better doctrinal position, and then blitzed a sentence or two of application.

And I'm sure I got it wrong, but that's okay. It's better to miss the definition of a heresy than miss the definition of who God, by his grace, has redeemed you to be. Thank you, Jesus.

Why I Am Not a Blogger

Up to my eyeballs in books this week, in particular two from InterVarsity Press called Why I Am Not a Calvinist and Why I Am Not an Arminian. I read the first one yesterday and am reading the second one today. Tomorrow, I'll write a 5-7 page "paperette" (due first thing Thursday) comparing the two and their respective handlings of the doctrine of predestination.

I've not been sleeping well this week, and wonder if it has to do with the debate going on in my head. If anything seems compelling, I'll post it here (but don't hold your breath).

An Emphasis of Synthesis

Not sure where this week has gone, other than into the paper I had to write for my Developing Lay Leaders intensive weekend class I took two months ago. The paper was due on Monday, but I had to ask for an extension as the project demanded more attention than I probably should have given. Nevertheless, I turned the thing in on Wednesday and was pretty happy with it as it's different from your typical seven-page seminary paper.

The assignment was to serve as a vehicle for future pastor-types to put down on paper their thoughts on how to develop people and their leadership within the church. Between my twelve years with The Navigators and the past year's work as an intern at Memorial, I came up with a few things to say that I had never really written on before. Here's an excerpt:

"The challenge of leadership goes beyond leaders just missing the 'forest' of the big picture for the 'trees' of the details (or vice versa); the real problem is missing both due to a lack of 'synthesis emphasis' in understanding, training, and practicing what biblical leadership is.

Leaders (and as a result, those they lead) often suffer from a disconnect between calling and design; between vision and mission; between the strategic and the tactical; and between follow-up and feedback. The result is inevitably frustration and fruitlessness for God’s Kingdom.

What is needed is not a new calling or vision (which are often the enemies of the existing calling and vision); nor do we need more mission(s) or giftedness to accomplish the work we already have to do. What is needed is a bias for developing leaders in the Church who can lead with an emphasis of synthesis in their leadership of others."

Though taking longer than I anticipated (largely because of the graphic design I packaged it in for my purposes at Memorial), I enjoyed writing again on a topic I've had some practical experience in (pure theology papers are hit and miss for me in terms of pleasure). Of course, the big thing missing from the paper are all the stories that would serve to illustrate my points, but I guess I'll save those for the book...or something.

In application of what I wrote (just in time), I'm off this weekend to teach Memorial's fourth and final Adullam leader retreat of Cycle A. Have a good weekend.

Therapy, Counseling, and Drugs (Oh, My!)

“Personality disorders are among the most problematic and vexing disorders the pastor is likely to face in his or her day-to-day life in the church.” The Pastor’s Guide to Psychological Disorders and Treatments, pg. 74

“I’m schizophrenic, but we’re better now.” T-Shirt for sale at Union Station

Reading The Pastor’s Guide for my Intro to Counseling class, I began to wonder if I should change degree programs, forsaking the M. Div. and going more the M.A.C. route. After all, if indeed “every pastor…regularly encounters pastoral care issues that require counseling intervention,” (xi) and “the average pastor reports spending between 10 percent and 46 percent of his or her time counseling,” (1) why not cut to the chase, forget trying to pass Beginning Hebrew (which I’ve failed twice already), and get a counseling degree? Megan says I’d be as good or better at it as at pastoring. What do we need pastors for anyway (other than to refer parishioners to counselors)?

This was one thought I came away with after reading The Pastor’s Guide. While quite helpful in better understanding the areas of psychological disorders, maladaptive personalities, family distress, and the mental health industry in general, I felt that the guide seemed more a justification as to why pastors should simply refer parishioners to therapy, rather than as a handbook to help pastors in their actual counseling. While I’m not switching degree programs (at least not until I try Hebrew one more time), I do still have questions pertaining to differences between pastoring and counseling people, and how those might one day play themselves out in any church ministry I might lead.

Make no mistake: I’m not coming from a purely Nouthetic perspective, nor do I have anything against using medications for the treatment of chemical problems (though that wasn't always the case). I see a psychiatrist myself every quarter and have been taking an anti-depressant for a year-and-a-half now that has seemed helpful. I also see a student counselor in the M.A.C. program here once a week, as well as meet with at least one of my pastors or elders every other week, and believe there’s freedom to do all this in the name of redeeming what God has created, but is fallen – me, in other words.

I don’t agree, however, with treating problems and disorders with drugs alone, nor would I encourage talking therapy that doesn’t come from the perspective or (at minimum) the acknowledgment of biblical principles in a patient’s therapy. Medications are fine (and often needed), but “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16) is found in the gospel – not in my daily Celexa tablet – and the latter needs to serve and be subject to the former for biblical sanctification of the justified Christian to take place. Like the rest of you, of course, I’m still trying to understand how that works.

That said, I probably most appreciated chapter six – “Selecting a Mental Health Professional” – in thinking through the need for “carefully evaluating MHPs in your community before you refer a parishioner to one of them for help” (131). Coming from a small town, I had never really thought about the need to develop a network of counseling professionals for future pastoral ministry (the pastor was usually it – and for free!), but I want to think more about the idea in the context of my own personal (and still developing) convictions as to what (if any) steady partnership should exist between the pastor and the counselor in helping a person in all of life.

I don’t want to be overly dogmatic and say there isn’t a happy medium that could or should exist, but I also don’t want to arrive at a decision made only for pragmatic reasons (i.e. I just don’t have time to counsel everybody who wants/needs it, so I’ll just “farm them out”) instead of real ones.

Brain Holiday: Postponed

After a semi-tough academic week (midterms) and coming into our first totally clear (no immediate deadlines) weekend in a month, I was looking forward to today being a bit of a "brain holiday". After Friday's chapel at Covenant, however, it is not to be.

Dan Zink, my Marriage and Family professor from last semester, interviewed visiting lecturer, Diane Langberg, a faculty member at Westminster Theological Seminary and Reformed Episcopal Seminary (both in Philadelphia), and a practicing psychologist whose clinical expertise includes 30 years of working with sexual trauma surivors and clergy (many of whom have inflicted such trauma on their churches). Dr. Langberg speaks internationally on topics specifically related to women, children, sex trafficking, and other such abuses all over the world, and Covenant is sponsoring a conference with Dr. Langberg this weekend called Behind Closed Doors: The Abuse of Power in Marriage, the Church, and Other Relationships.

In addition, this coming Tuesday, Covenant and Memorial are co-sponsoring an evening presentation/Q&A with speaker Deborah Dortzbach, author of The AIDS Crisis: What We Can Do. Dortzbach is World Relief's international director HIV/AIDS programs, and mobilizes and equips the local church to promote and provide AIDS awareness, sexual education for youth, orphan support, and much more. (For anyone interested in going, the event is Tuesday, March 6, at 7 p.m. at Memorial. Admission is free.)

What do either of these have to do with my weekend? Physically, nothing - I have no plans to spend another weekend taking a class (I did that in January and again two weeks ago in February), and Megan has her Teaching and Learning class on Tuesday nights, so I'll be home with the ladies (er, that is, my four female children) and unable to make the discussion.

But mentally (and hopefully even spiritually), I have been thinking about injustice in the world a lot already this weekend, with plenty of horrible statistics and real illustrations of evil's awful attrocities floating around in my head. I've written about this kind of thing before here and here, but am newly-reminded that having written about it once or twice doesn't mean I should stop writing about it now...or trying to do something about it soon.

Sure, it doesn't make for the most relaxing of weekends (at least mentally), but in the midst of our physical comfort and lower-middle class existence here in the richest and freest country in the world, I'm not sure that's such a bad thing.

More to come (I hope).

So Many Classes, So Little Brain

The good news is classes started yesterday and it's going to be a great semester. My classes:

• Acts & Paul


• Reformation & Modern Church History


• Intro to Counseling


• Developing Lay Leaders in the Church

The other news is 137 assignments stand between me and the end of the semester, with what looks to be the most reading and writing I've ever had in a term.

Classes I'm assisting/grading for this semester:

• Apologetics & Outreach


• Understanding Contemporary Culture


• Pastoral Theology

It's good to be back...I think.

On Teachers and Teaching

My kind of weekend: intensive January term class on prophecy with visiting prof, Dr. Richard Pratt of Third Millennium Ministries (check out the website - way cool vision); teaching tomorrow morning at Memorial on leadership (specifically how being a good follower is key to being a good leader); and digging into Proverbs to prep for class with my high schoolers.

Combine all this with a nice, dreary drizzle forecasted for most of the weekend, and it might as well be heaven (minus, of course, the still-obvious presence of sin, not to mention the periodic on/off flickering lights due to ice on the power lines). But I digress...

Dr. Pratt is a pretty amazing teacher who makes good use of audio/visual media without overdoing it. It's obvious he also know his stuff on the prophets, and I was encouraged by both his scholarship and his biblical commitments trumping his solid Reformed perspectives.

Don't get me wrong: for my two cents, Reformed theology is and always has been far and away the superior systematic in so many ways, but every man-made system has its limits, and Dr. Pratt is not only unafraid to say so, but seems bent on teaching it as part of his pedagogy.

Perhaps the other encouragement for me last night was how helpful and affirming his review of Old Testament history was, especially having just taught so much of it last semester at Wildwood. There are few things worse than realizing after the fact that something you taught someone else was actually wrong (or perhaps even worse - not quite right); thus, going into the class, I was somewhat prepared to have to revise some of my notes afterward, not so much for having wrong data, but for botching the interpretation of it in some way.

Thankfully (at least so far), my study and teaching seem to be lining up with Dr. Pratt's take on things. Granted, there were a couple of important aspects that I did not emphasize as much as I perhaps should have, but there also was no real heresy I was guilty of either. For that, I was and am very thankful.

Of course, I was only in class three hours last night. We'll see how my notes stand up after seven hours today.

"Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness." James 3:1

Freaks me out every time I read it...

And I'm Off Like a Herd of Turtles...

Been up to my eyeballs in paper grading and the last of our moving experience (my least favorite part: hanging stuff). We're loving the new place and really making the most of the new space, planning to host an open house before the spring semester starts later this month. If you're in town, consider yourself invited (details to come).

Saw The Nativity Story the other night with Megan and the girls and thoroughly enjoyed it (though it got a little modern/Hallmark-ish at the end, especially in the cheeseball "Silent Night" soundtrack arrangement and the Nativity "pose" at the end). The appearance of Gabriel to Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds was underwhelming (manifesting a convincing angel is no easy task), but I loved how they portrayed Joseph and fleshed out his character and circumstance - a nice visual to the "resolved to divorce her quietly" struggle in Matthew.

In terms of book reading, I'm halfway through The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester, as well as The Shangri-La Diet by Seth Roberts. I'm planning to read Derek Kidner's short commentary on the Wisdom literature (Proverbs, Job, and Ecclesiastes) so I can finalize the syllabus for the Bible class I teach at Wildwood, which starts Monday. I'm really looking forward to studying this with my students, and plan on doing most of our work in class together so as to teach the "how" as well as the "what" of studying Bible discourse.

Not too many extra plans for 2007, other than:

• lose 20-25 pounds (and a few belt sizes)


• spend (read: "waste") less time on the Internet


• pray more (always)


• write more (and not just on the blog)


• read 65-70 books


• exercise more (yeah, yeah)

Sometime in 2007, I need to (finally, and for a third time) pass Hebrew (yep, I failed it again, though with a C this time). Oh, and I'd like - no I NEED - to find a job by May (that's not a resolution but a requirement) for when we leave support in six months. By the way, thanks to the couple of you who responded to our appeal last month - that meant - and means - a lot to us. Personal thank you note on the way...

Now that we're in a house in a neighborhood, I'd like to re-learn how to relate to people who live on my same street, rubbing intellectual and emotional elbows with folks who come from a different perspective than mine, and learning from them as I learn to love them in the process. That would be hugely encouraging to me.

There's more (as always), but it would be too much. We'll see how this much goes and take it from there. Any resolutions/plans out there you'd like to share?