Well, to those 2 of you who have read my blog occasionally over the past four years, today is a new beginning. Thank you for your friendships and camaraderie along the way.
Seeing as this blog was dedicated to my time in Seminary, and I have now graduated (Woo Hoo!!), it is time to move on.
As many of you know I will be moving to Hawaii, to begin a new residency position as a hospital chaplain. My new blog will be part of the new beginnings there, and beyond.
So if you're interested in keeping in touch, here's where you can find me:
chaplainknutz.tumblr.com
~Cheers
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Transition with a Big God
Today marks the day that Fuller Theological Seminary and First Presbyterian Hollywood (et. al.) have blessed me as a Theology Student and minister of the Gospel. We celebrated the Baccalaureate ceremony in Pasadena with a message from Dr. John Goldingay, one of my favorite OT professors, about the immensity and faithfulness of God. God is greater than the heavens and stands beside the oppressed and downtrodden.
This message seemed to be quite appropriate for myself as I transition out of a four-year master's degree program into a Hospital Chaplain residency program for one-year. I have overcome some of the greatest hurdles toward ordination, however when I was hearing the Word shared this morning I was reminded of the call I have to serve an immense God alongside the broken-hearted.
Over the past months I have experienced and found myself trusting in this incredible God that is higher than the heavens, using the earth as a footstool. I sent out extensive applications to 7 Residency programs, traveled from San Diego to Seattle and spent dozens of hours in interviews. Right off the bat I was offered a position, but I had hardly stepped out of the starting gate and knew I needed more time so I asked to be put on hold for that position as they continue hiring other applicants. I then flew up for a weekend to Portland and Seattle. The hospital I first interviewed at was warm and welcoming, full of life and traces of those who have spent short and long stays within those walls. Though, I felt divided and confused; I did not know wether to be terrified or peaceful. The interview overall went well, but I had no idea what the panel of 12 interviewers (yes thats me and 12 people asking me questions for one and a half hours) thought of me. So I prayed, hopped in my car and drove across town to my second interview for the day at a large institutional hospital. In short, I was not interested at all.
After a lovely two day stay with Jamie, an absolute stranger, (thanks to Fuller Seminary www.fuller.edu and the Windrider Forum www.windriderforum.org), I drove across the state line into Washington and was welcomed by another kind hearted and generous stranger, Becky. I interviewed half-heartedly but had a sense that the Pacific North West was not an area I was being prepared for. I returned home later that day and tried to process and remember all that had transpired. The greatest and most lasting impression were the kind hosts who welcomed me into their homes, took me out to dinner and shared their lives with me, even if for just a few days.
When I returned home I knew I had three hospitals left to hear from. I was looking forward to interviewing in San Diego where I spent four years in undergrad. The facility was top-notch, spectacular and breathtaking. I almost immediately fell in love with the location, started dreaming of spending more time with my sister and working with the staff at Sharp. The interview went well, and I was honest about my hopes. Two weeks later, I hadn't heard anything, I began to become anxious and told myself "one more day" just wait one more day to hear from them. So I waited 3 days and could hardly take it any longer, mostly because I figured no news was not good news. And so I was disappointed, I received a call back and a letter that day in the mail confirming that I had not been accepted into the program. That week I went through a great roller-coaster wondering what on earth I was going to do. I was sure I would not be accepted to one of the 2 left, and I still was not convinced I wanted to take up the first offer again. So to confront my anxiety I decided I would just go back to the start and look at my first option again, because I wanted to pursue Hospital Ministry and that was not a bad option, even if it just didn't seem the right option. I called back, they said "Sure we will review your application again, but it may be another six weeks before we can get back to you." Ouch! That was far from the reassuring stability I was longing for. Though, in a sense it did confirm my hesitation toward that program.
Then, out of the blue I received a call, a number and area code I did not recognize. It was from O'ahu, Hawai'i, they wanted to have a phone interview with me. Now, remember I turned in my applications the last week of January, at this point we were into May and since I hadn't heard anything and this hospital was a 5.5 hour flight away I had not invested a lot of thought into it. By the next week I was sitting in a little office at school, trying to find a quiet space to speak with the Supervisor for my interview. Our conversation was comfortable, though nothing remarkable. After an hour we said goodbye and I was encouraged that I would hear from her within the next 10 days. After waiting over 3 months, 10 days sounded fantastic! I asked to speak with a current resident to get a better idea of the program, since I was not able to actually interview on campus. She was kind and helpful in filling in some of the gaps, but also a local and older than myself so I still had many questions and anxieties. I left it to prayer and considered my options. I had no idea even if I'd be accepted.
Nine days later, while sitting in the library, I received a call from the supervisor. "Is this a good time?" she asked. I said, "yes, this is a fine time." (Though I was in the library surrounded by a couple of guys goofing off, I just couldn't wait). She had called to extend one of the residency positions to me for the 2011-2012 residency program. I was so excited, first just to hear good news, and second to consider a new and exciting opportunity. I had spent almost every day that week praying and conferring with friends about the possibility of moving half way across the Pacific Ocean to a remote island with an entire population smaller than any other geographical area I have lived. I was practically tortured with fear and excitement. So we prayed, I was with my incredible and loving small group and I asked "so what do you think?" The answer was probably written all over my face, but they lovingly walked me along the tightrope and commissioned me to the other side. I have never met any of the staff, walked on the grounds of the facility or lived that far from home. I had plenty of reasons to say "I don't think I can do that," but my friends for months have been encouraging me to step out in faith.
One of my greatest fears and disappointments of graduation and transition will be and is saying goodbye to friends that have stood beside me and loved me so generously over the past few years. I owe much of my strength, hope, health and heart to them as they have stood as Jesus' hands and feet with me in devotion and ministry. I could hardly bear to walk into a new environment with no sign of this kind of community, so I reached out to see if there was anyone there. Within hours I was greeted by 5 people and couples from the Island through a mutual friend whom I have not spoken with for 2 years! Wow! God is great! This was the little push that I needed to leap out in faith, across the vast blue ocean, to land in a foreign and strange (though breathtaking) land of O'ahu, Hawai'i.
So, I have the clutch in, I'm changing gears, moving forward, stepping out, and holding on to a great big God.
Isaiah 66
Thus says the LORD:
“Heaven is My throne,
And earth is My footstool.
Where is the house that you will build Me?
And where is the place of My rest?
For all those things My hand has made,
And all those things exist,”
Says the LORD.
“But on this one will I look:
On him who is poor and of a contrite spirit,
And who trembles at My word."
This message seemed to be quite appropriate for myself as I transition out of a four-year master's degree program into a Hospital Chaplain residency program for one-year. I have overcome some of the greatest hurdles toward ordination, however when I was hearing the Word shared this morning I was reminded of the call I have to serve an immense God alongside the broken-hearted.
Over the past months I have experienced and found myself trusting in this incredible God that is higher than the heavens, using the earth as a footstool. I sent out extensive applications to 7 Residency programs, traveled from San Diego to Seattle and spent dozens of hours in interviews. Right off the bat I was offered a position, but I had hardly stepped out of the starting gate and knew I needed more time so I asked to be put on hold for that position as they continue hiring other applicants. I then flew up for a weekend to Portland and Seattle. The hospital I first interviewed at was warm and welcoming, full of life and traces of those who have spent short and long stays within those walls. Though, I felt divided and confused; I did not know wether to be terrified or peaceful. The interview overall went well, but I had no idea what the panel of 12 interviewers (yes thats me and 12 people asking me questions for one and a half hours) thought of me. So I prayed, hopped in my car and drove across town to my second interview for the day at a large institutional hospital. In short, I was not interested at all.
After a lovely two day stay with Jamie, an absolute stranger, (thanks to Fuller Seminary www.fuller.edu and the Windrider Forum www.windriderforum.org), I drove across the state line into Washington and was welcomed by another kind hearted and generous stranger, Becky. I interviewed half-heartedly but had a sense that the Pacific North West was not an area I was being prepared for. I returned home later that day and tried to process and remember all that had transpired. The greatest and most lasting impression were the kind hosts who welcomed me into their homes, took me out to dinner and shared their lives with me, even if for just a few days.
When I returned home I knew I had three hospitals left to hear from. I was looking forward to interviewing in San Diego where I spent four years in undergrad. The facility was top-notch, spectacular and breathtaking. I almost immediately fell in love with the location, started dreaming of spending more time with my sister and working with the staff at Sharp. The interview went well, and I was honest about my hopes. Two weeks later, I hadn't heard anything, I began to become anxious and told myself "one more day" just wait one more day to hear from them. So I waited 3 days and could hardly take it any longer, mostly because I figured no news was not good news. And so I was disappointed, I received a call back and a letter that day in the mail confirming that I had not been accepted into the program. That week I went through a great roller-coaster wondering what on earth I was going to do. I was sure I would not be accepted to one of the 2 left, and I still was not convinced I wanted to take up the first offer again. So to confront my anxiety I decided I would just go back to the start and look at my first option again, because I wanted to pursue Hospital Ministry and that was not a bad option, even if it just didn't seem the right option. I called back, they said "Sure we will review your application again, but it may be another six weeks before we can get back to you." Ouch! That was far from the reassuring stability I was longing for. Though, in a sense it did confirm my hesitation toward that program.
Then, out of the blue I received a call, a number and area code I did not recognize. It was from O'ahu, Hawai'i, they wanted to have a phone interview with me. Now, remember I turned in my applications the last week of January, at this point we were into May and since I hadn't heard anything and this hospital was a 5.5 hour flight away I had not invested a lot of thought into it. By the next week I was sitting in a little office at school, trying to find a quiet space to speak with the Supervisor for my interview. Our conversation was comfortable, though nothing remarkable. After an hour we said goodbye and I was encouraged that I would hear from her within the next 10 days. After waiting over 3 months, 10 days sounded fantastic! I asked to speak with a current resident to get a better idea of the program, since I was not able to actually interview on campus. She was kind and helpful in filling in some of the gaps, but also a local and older than myself so I still had many questions and anxieties. I left it to prayer and considered my options. I had no idea even if I'd be accepted.
Nine days later, while sitting in the library, I received a call from the supervisor. "Is this a good time?" she asked. I said, "yes, this is a fine time." (Though I was in the library surrounded by a couple of guys goofing off, I just couldn't wait). She had called to extend one of the residency positions to me for the 2011-2012 residency program. I was so excited, first just to hear good news, and second to consider a new and exciting opportunity. I had spent almost every day that week praying and conferring with friends about the possibility of moving half way across the Pacific Ocean to a remote island with an entire population smaller than any other geographical area I have lived. I was practically tortured with fear and excitement. So we prayed, I was with my incredible and loving small group and I asked "so what do you think?" The answer was probably written all over my face, but they lovingly walked me along the tightrope and commissioned me to the other side. I have never met any of the staff, walked on the grounds of the facility or lived that far from home. I had plenty of reasons to say "I don't think I can do that," but my friends for months have been encouraging me to step out in faith.
One of my greatest fears and disappointments of graduation and transition will be and is saying goodbye to friends that have stood beside me and loved me so generously over the past few years. I owe much of my strength, hope, health and heart to them as they have stood as Jesus' hands and feet with me in devotion and ministry. I could hardly bear to walk into a new environment with no sign of this kind of community, so I reached out to see if there was anyone there. Within hours I was greeted by 5 people and couples from the Island through a mutual friend whom I have not spoken with for 2 years! Wow! God is great! This was the little push that I needed to leap out in faith, across the vast blue ocean, to land in a foreign and strange (though breathtaking) land of O'ahu, Hawai'i.
So, I have the clutch in, I'm changing gears, moving forward, stepping out, and holding on to a great big God.
Isaiah 66
Thus says the LORD:
“Heaven is My throne,
And earth is My footstool.
Where is the house that you will build Me?
And where is the place of My rest?
For all those things My hand has made,
And all those things exist,”
Says the LORD.
“But on this one will I look:
On him who is poor and of a contrite spirit,
And who trembles at My word."
Monday, May 16, 2011
Goodbye
A poem/song that has taken me over five years to find and finally express.
I loved how much you cared for me
Seeing things I could not see
Something different, something strange;
magnetic like but not the same
Sharing stories beside the sea
Your gentle smile washed over me
I never thought we’d say goodbye
Like a summer day with clear blue sky
Then came the day, in early spring
A call, some news, that angels sing
My ears went deaf, my gaze grew weak,
felt a sense of guilt, not peace
Back to life, I could not bring
I locked you up inside a ring
Teach me now, to say goodbye
For what I hear is just a lie
I am sad your days, they now are o’er
But each new day I see there’s more
No longer past but present too,
finding a way to remember you
You taught me love, you gave me grace
Keeping that in each new place
I’m ready now to say goodbye
To count the loss of one who died
[Tag]
Letting go of you, holding on to something new
(For Chace Ridder)
I loved how much you cared for me
Seeing things I could not see
Something different, something strange;
magnetic like but not the same
Sharing stories beside the sea
Your gentle smile washed over me
I never thought we’d say goodbye
Like a summer day with clear blue sky
Then came the day, in early spring
A call, some news, that angels sing
My ears went deaf, my gaze grew weak,
felt a sense of guilt, not peace
Back to life, I could not bring
I locked you up inside a ring
Teach me now, to say goodbye
For what I hear is just a lie
I am sad your days, they now are o’er
But each new day I see there’s more
No longer past but present too,
finding a way to remember you
You taught me love, you gave me grace
Keeping that in each new place
I’m ready now to say goodbye
To count the loss of one who died
[Tag]
Letting go of you, holding on to something new
(For Chace Ridder)
on sexuaity
“The most enduring form of distorted sexuality is its decontextualisation from other aspects of life, and hence from the wholeness of personal responsibility, so that it ceases to be a part of an encounter between two whole human persons and therefore to be anything really personal at all. A purely sexual encounter is lived as though the genitals have a life independent from the rest of the person, capable of making their own peculiar commitments and of ignoring those made by the rest of the person. Rather, sexual relations should conform to the dialogical pattern of mutual whole-person orientation, in which case they would take place ‘only in the totality and context of the life of each of the partners including the whole sphere of their encounter and co-existence’.” (Primary source: The Call to Personhood by Alistair McFadyn, 36-37. In quote: Barth Church Dogmatics, 3.1)
“Further, becoming ‘one flesh’ denotes neither sexual intercourse nor its product (Seth), but human existence as a whole under the aspect of corporality. It is the dialogical form of relatedness which is normative for marriage, as for all relations and so for all sexuality, not marrage and heterosexuality which are normative for our understanding and practice of dialogue.” (38)
“Further, becoming ‘one flesh’ denotes neither sexual intercourse nor its product (Seth), but human existence as a whole under the aspect of corporality. It is the dialogical form of relatedness which is normative for marriage, as for all relations and so for all sexuality, not marrage and heterosexuality which are normative for our understanding and practice of dialogue.” (38)
Saturday, April 2, 2011
A Grief Observed
I just finished this short 4-chapter book by CS Lewis this morning. A very valuable read for anyone who as walked through the fog and sorrow of loss. I will add a few favorite quotes later.
Some food for thought (PS: I love that metaphor):
"Talk to me about the truth of religion and I'll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I'll listen submissively. But don't come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don't understand... And that, just that (our pithy fabrications of Heaven and things we can never know), is what I cry out for, with mad, midnight endearments and entreaties spoken into the empty air." The depth of despair where consolation cannot reach.
"There is, hidden or flaunted, a sword between the sexes till an entire marriage reconciles them. It is arrogance in us to call frankness, fairness, and chivalry 'masculine' when we see them in a woman; it is arrogance in them to describe a man's sensitivities or tact or tenderness as 'feminine.' But also what poor, warped fragments of humanity most meere men and mere women must be to make the implications of that arrogance plausible. Marriage heals this. Jointly the two become fully human. 'In the image of God created He them." Thus, by a paradox, the carnival of sexuality leads us out beyond our sexes."
"To see, in some measure, like God. His love and His knowledge are not distinct from one another, nor from Him. We could almost say He sees because He loves, and therefore loves although He sees."
"Once very near the end I said, 'If you can--if it is allowed--come to me when I too am on my death bed.' 'Allowed!' she said. 'Heaven would have a job to hold me; and as for Hell, i'd break it into bits.' She knew she was speaking a kind of mythological language, with even an element of comedy in it. There was a twinkle as well as a tear in her eye. But there was no myth and no joke about the will, deeper than any feeling, that flashed through her."
Some food for thought (PS: I love that metaphor):
"Talk to me about the truth of religion and I'll listen gladly. Talk to me about the duty of religion and I'll listen submissively. But don't come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don't understand... And that, just that (our pithy fabrications of Heaven and things we can never know), is what I cry out for, with mad, midnight endearments and entreaties spoken into the empty air." The depth of despair where consolation cannot reach.
"There is, hidden or flaunted, a sword between the sexes till an entire marriage reconciles them. It is arrogance in us to call frankness, fairness, and chivalry 'masculine' when we see them in a woman; it is arrogance in them to describe a man's sensitivities or tact or tenderness as 'feminine.' But also what poor, warped fragments of humanity most meere men and mere women must be to make the implications of that arrogance plausible. Marriage heals this. Jointly the two become fully human. 'In the image of God created He them." Thus, by a paradox, the carnival of sexuality leads us out beyond our sexes."
"To see, in some measure, like God. His love and His knowledge are not distinct from one another, nor from Him. We could almost say He sees because He loves, and therefore loves although He sees."
"Once very near the end I said, 'If you can--if it is allowed--come to me when I too am on my death bed.' 'Allowed!' she said. 'Heaven would have a job to hold me; and as for Hell, i'd break it into bits.' She knew she was speaking a kind of mythological language, with even an element of comedy in it. There was a twinkle as well as a tear in her eye. But there was no myth and no joke about the will, deeper than any feeling, that flashed through her."
Monday, March 28, 2011
Roots
So I was reading through Steve Yamaguchi's Presby Pastor's e-sharing this morning and came across this little point of interest. I remember filling these fish-boxes, ie: "Gracie" with coins as I participated in sunday school and summer camps.
a) One Great Hour of Sharing – with Japan. The little Fish Coin Offering Boxes make a difference. The earthquake hit Japan on Friday, March 11. By Monday, March 14, we had sent $100,000 to Japan through our One Great Hour of Sharing offering. Please let your children know that their Fish Coin Offering boxes are making a difference to help the children of Japan. (By the way, after many years, the coin box fish finally has a name. She is Gracie.)
Lent and Holy Week are the most popular seasons for churches to collect the One Great Hour of Sharing (OGHS) offering. Click here for more information about how to participate in the OGHS program.
Great to hear that the habits of children build deep roots of compassion and care for our future generations.
a) One Great Hour of Sharing – with Japan. The little Fish Coin Offering Boxes make a difference. The earthquake hit Japan on Friday, March 11. By Monday, March 14, we had sent $100,000 to Japan through our One Great Hour of Sharing offering. Please let your children know that their Fish Coin Offering boxes are making a difference to help the children of Japan. (By the way, after many years, the coin box fish finally has a name. She is Gracie.)
Lent and Holy Week are the most popular seasons for churches to collect the One Great Hour of Sharing (OGHS) offering. Click here for more information about how to participate in the OGHS program.
Great to hear that the habits of children build deep roots of compassion and care for our future generations.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Life Update
I'm sure there are few who read this, but for the sake of leaving my mark on the world wide web I am posting a little update on the upcoming, fairly significant events in my life.
Over the next six weeks I will be interviewing at 5 different hospitals along the West Coast for a position as a Resident Chaplain. This position will continue my education, and serve as my ordination prerequisites to continue working in the field. My residency will begin sometime in August or September.
June 11 will be my graduation date from Fuller Theological Seminary with a Masters of Divinity in Worship, Theology and the Arts.
August will be the last time I have to take any Ordination Exams... prayerfully... as I retake my final Exegesis exam toward the end of the month.
From now until then I am living at Grandpa's and studying.
Peace
Over the next six weeks I will be interviewing at 5 different hospitals along the West Coast for a position as a Resident Chaplain. This position will continue my education, and serve as my ordination prerequisites to continue working in the field. My residency will begin sometime in August or September.
June 11 will be my graduation date from Fuller Theological Seminary with a Masters of Divinity in Worship, Theology and the Arts.
August will be the last time I have to take any Ordination Exams... prayerfully... as I retake my final Exegesis exam toward the end of the month.
From now until then I am living at Grandpa's and studying.
Peace
Thursday, February 10, 2011
an Ironic post
If you read my previous post, this may seem humorous or ironic. Regardless, here it is.
This is an assignment from my Sundance "Engaging Independent Film" course that has asked us to comment on our method of public discourse--how do we engage others in conversation.
I try to keep a few things in mind when engaging with anyone, especially because most of the time I am quickly identified as a Christian, chaplain or seminary student and this starts a conversation off very differently. Different because it means that there are about a million assumptions that the other person has about me, Christians, the Church or religion, all of which I am totally unaware.
First of all I try to work with as few assumptions about the other person as is necessary—unfortunately being a fairly intuitive person makes this challenging. This helps to keep the conversation on an even field where both members can lead and contribute freely.
Secondly I work hard at being an active listener. It may come across sometimes as a little “psychoanalytical” but it is a very helpful listening tool. When someone says something confusing or different you ask them if they meant to say… or if they wanted to say… etc. Listening offers respect and dignity to the conversation partner. It shows that you know you don’t know everything and you’re interested in learning something new.
Finally I try to keep the conversation on track. If I get too distracted or side rail on a “soap-box” I realize I am bringing into the conversation unrelated, uninteresting and possibly hurtful “baggage.” This can also be a tool to notice when the other person is getting frustrated, angry, offended or just bored. If you notice this kind of shift it’s time to simplify, reassess and/or move on. This is an opportunity to find what was good about the conversation before it became too heated. This is also a chance for you to end the conversation before anyone becomes more hurt—we all have been part of hurtful conversations about our own personal lives, beliefs and hopes.
All in all I try, though not always successfully, to meet each person on level ground, show them the kind of respect and dignity I would request from another and try to leave this person better off than when we started. I say “better off” in the sense that education, conversation and being heard are some of the most intimate and life-giving activities any human being can engage in and if we take the opportunity to share a moment with another we can offer them the respect and dignity they were created for.
(Hint, much of this was developed and continues to be developed through my work as a hospital chaplain and the Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) program).
This is an assignment from my Sundance "Engaging Independent Film" course that has asked us to comment on our method of public discourse--how do we engage others in conversation.
I try to keep a few things in mind when engaging with anyone, especially because most of the time I am quickly identified as a Christian, chaplain or seminary student and this starts a conversation off very differently. Different because it means that there are about a million assumptions that the other person has about me, Christians, the Church or religion, all of which I am totally unaware.
First of all I try to work with as few assumptions about the other person as is necessary—unfortunately being a fairly intuitive person makes this challenging. This helps to keep the conversation on an even field where both members can lead and contribute freely.
Secondly I work hard at being an active listener. It may come across sometimes as a little “psychoanalytical” but it is a very helpful listening tool. When someone says something confusing or different you ask them if they meant to say… or if they wanted to say… etc. Listening offers respect and dignity to the conversation partner. It shows that you know you don’t know everything and you’re interested in learning something new.
Finally I try to keep the conversation on track. If I get too distracted or side rail on a “soap-box” I realize I am bringing into the conversation unrelated, uninteresting and possibly hurtful “baggage.” This can also be a tool to notice when the other person is getting frustrated, angry, offended or just bored. If you notice this kind of shift it’s time to simplify, reassess and/or move on. This is an opportunity to find what was good about the conversation before it became too heated. This is also a chance for you to end the conversation before anyone becomes more hurt—we all have been part of hurtful conversations about our own personal lives, beliefs and hopes.
All in all I try, though not always successfully, to meet each person on level ground, show them the kind of respect and dignity I would request from another and try to leave this person better off than when we started. I say “better off” in the sense that education, conversation and being heard are some of the most intimate and life-giving activities any human being can engage in and if we take the opportunity to share a moment with another we can offer them the respect and dignity they were created for.
(Hint, much of this was developed and continues to be developed through my work as a hospital chaplain and the Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) program).
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Listening
Today I was speaking to the Concierge at our TimeShare. I asked if he knew of any bistro/restaurant that was a little more off the beaten path where I might get some reading done with a glass of wine. Apparently that is a silly question to ask in a tourist-town during peak-season. Lesson learned.
But, what transpired in our initial 3 minute conversation as I revealed a working knowledge of the town and said I was here last week for Sundance was one of the most confusing conversations I have encountered in a LONG time. Here are a few pieces I can remember.
This guy believes (as he shared in the next 20 minutes):
Religion is problematic...
Faith is something special...
Joseph Campbell ("follow your bliss") has the key...
He's Catholic...
Married a Jewish woman...
Something happened in between...
It depends on what Planet people live are on... this one really got me scratching my head when he started talking about planets... we are in UT...
God/_____ (some other word) created everything and some think is a billion miles away...
His forefathers were somehow connected to Joseph Campbell or Joseph Smith (I couldn't tell) as wagoners through the west...
They built Westminster college where he attended but it's no longer religiously/theological oriented...
It's important to engage in dialogue (Got it! this one i could work with, pfew)...
I have no idea how to follow this guy. So what I leave wondering is, do I sound as fragmented and de-centered as this guy when I talk to people about faith/religion/spirituality? I sure hope not, if I do, I have some work to do.
I really had no idea what this guy was talking about at all. He didn't seem angry or dissatisfied, he seemed to think he was talking about some pretty clear things that made a lot of sense. Good thing he kept talking and didn't ask for me to participate. I hope no one sees this blog and thinks "what a pretentious pious bitch." I'm not trying to poke-fun at what he "believes" I just wonder how many people live in such a de-centralized world/reality like this?
wow
But, what transpired in our initial 3 minute conversation as I revealed a working knowledge of the town and said I was here last week for Sundance was one of the most confusing conversations I have encountered in a LONG time. Here are a few pieces I can remember.
This guy believes (as he shared in the next 20 minutes):
Religion is problematic...
Faith is something special...
Joseph Campbell ("follow your bliss") has the key...
He's Catholic...
Married a Jewish woman...
Something happened in between...
It depends on what Planet people live are on... this one really got me scratching my head when he started talking about planets... we are in UT...
God/_____ (some other word) created everything and some think is a billion miles away...
His forefathers were somehow connected to Joseph Campbell or Joseph Smith (I couldn't tell) as wagoners through the west...
They built Westminster college where he attended but it's no longer religiously/theological oriented...
It's important to engage in dialogue (Got it! this one i could work with, pfew)...
I have no idea how to follow this guy. So what I leave wondering is, do I sound as fragmented and de-centered as this guy when I talk to people about faith/religion/spirituality? I sure hope not, if I do, I have some work to do.
I really had no idea what this guy was talking about at all. He didn't seem angry or dissatisfied, he seemed to think he was talking about some pretty clear things that made a lot of sense. Good thing he kept talking and didn't ask for me to participate. I hope no one sees this blog and thinks "what a pretentious pious bitch." I'm not trying to poke-fun at what he "believes" I just wonder how many people live in such a de-centralized world/reality like this?
wow
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Horizons and Hovering
I am excellent at imagining, "what if." When I graduate, what if I work here, there or what if I don't get a job. What if I'm in a relationship, what if I'm not, what if I get sick, what if I win the lottery, what if... I often joke that I could solve the worlds problems with all of this pondering. So, I find myself at a season of change, a time of transition, looking out on the horizon... do I see clear blue skies or dirty, vague LA smog?
Over the past six-eight months I have sensed, and believe a semi-dramatic change in call. I am still pursuing ordination, and am deeply committed to the life and health of the local church, though my primary vocational call has changed to hospital work as a chaplain. In so many ways this is a "duh" moment because when my family asked what my "backup plan" was from pastoral ministry it was medicine. I have always been fascinated by medicine, comfortable in medical facilities and held great respect for the medical profession. After many years of becoming frustrated and unsettled with parish ministry positions I was delighted to find great freedom, affirmation and renewed excitement for ministry in the medical field.
So here I am, four months from graduating and seven applications in the mail. I have one interview scheduled and hope to hear from more soon. I know what I would love as the "perfect" setup, but I also know that plans do not usually end up as imagined. So here I hoover, suspended in time waiting for the future to become more clear. I pray and hope for wisdom, companionship and guidance on the journey there.
Just a little update on my life. Graduation is June 11, 2011. I will keep you posted with any other interesting information.
Peace.
Over the past six-eight months I have sensed, and believe a semi-dramatic change in call. I am still pursuing ordination, and am deeply committed to the life and health of the local church, though my primary vocational call has changed to hospital work as a chaplain. In so many ways this is a "duh" moment because when my family asked what my "backup plan" was from pastoral ministry it was medicine. I have always been fascinated by medicine, comfortable in medical facilities and held great respect for the medical profession. After many years of becoming frustrated and unsettled with parish ministry positions I was delighted to find great freedom, affirmation and renewed excitement for ministry in the medical field.
So here I am, four months from graduating and seven applications in the mail. I have one interview scheduled and hope to hear from more soon. I know what I would love as the "perfect" setup, but I also know that plans do not usually end up as imagined. So here I hoover, suspended in time waiting for the future to become more clear. I pray and hope for wisdom, companionship and guidance on the journey there.
Just a little update on my life. Graduation is June 11, 2011. I will keep you posted with any other interesting information.
Peace.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
How to Die in Oregon: Sundance Film Review
Most of the time we don’t wonder or think about how we are going to die; or maybe that is just me because I am young. In states like Oregon, Washington and Montana this preparation is possible. Legally under the “Death with Dignity Act” persons who have been given a prognosis of six or fewer months to live can be prescribed a medication, which induces a coma like state and within hours death (please look at www.deathwithdignity.org). Some perceive this as an act against God, others a gracious act of mercy. The film “How to Die in Oregon” received the U.S. Documentary Competition Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival. Peter D. Richardson offered a dignified and personal look at the affect “Death with Dignity” offers people from Oregon and Washington.
I cannot write this blog without hoping to affect and challenge some of the presuppositions and ideas people have about death and medicine. Working as a hospital chaplain some of the primary theological questions that come to play in conversations with patients and their families in critical situations are: are we playing God by perpetuating life through medication and medical procedures, and/or are we playing God by removing medical care? These questions are significant and real, but whatever state a person is in when he/she is diagnosed with terminal illness there is sadness, fear, disappointment and often loss of hope.
What I appreciate most about the Documentary “How to Die in Oregon” is the director's ability to take real-life people who are dying and create a film that tells their stories. None of the people depicted in this film are using this assisted death as a means of escape. The producer and his crew closely follow these stories of life and loss, their work allows us to see the love and hope that is found in real time with real people.
As a pastor we are called into many different situations of life and loss; that space between joy and sadness, love and hate, hope and despair. This film continues the conversation connecting us with the lives of real people and their decision to die with dignity and care for their families. The documentary does not portray death as anything easy because death is not just about one person but about every person affected by the loss of a loved one. We see the affect this has on wives, husbands and children as survivors of their loved ones.
We, as ambassadors of God, have the privilege to extend the peace of Christ, to bring light and compassion into these moments of despair. God promises to bring comfort through times of suffering and loss. Every person who was documented in this film experienced both suffering and loss, and this is what I appreciated most about the film’s perspective. The Oregon Death with Dignity Act does not free a person from suffering, sadness or loss. Every day we can find opportunities to stand beside these people and remind them that God is there.
I cannot write this blog without hoping to affect and challenge some of the presuppositions and ideas people have about death and medicine. Working as a hospital chaplain some of the primary theological questions that come to play in conversations with patients and their families in critical situations are: are we playing God by perpetuating life through medication and medical procedures, and/or are we playing God by removing medical care? These questions are significant and real, but whatever state a person is in when he/she is diagnosed with terminal illness there is sadness, fear, disappointment and often loss of hope.
What I appreciate most about the Documentary “How to Die in Oregon” is the director's ability to take real-life people who are dying and create a film that tells their stories. None of the people depicted in this film are using this assisted death as a means of escape. The producer and his crew closely follow these stories of life and loss, their work allows us to see the love and hope that is found in real time with real people.
As a pastor we are called into many different situations of life and loss; that space between joy and sadness, love and hate, hope and despair. This film continues the conversation connecting us with the lives of real people and their decision to die with dignity and care for their families. The documentary does not portray death as anything easy because death is not just about one person but about every person affected by the loss of a loved one. We see the affect this has on wives, husbands and children as survivors of their loved ones.
We, as ambassadors of God, have the privilege to extend the peace of Christ, to bring light and compassion into these moments of despair. God promises to bring comfort through times of suffering and loss. Every person who was documented in this film experienced both suffering and loss, and this is what I appreciated most about the film’s perspective. The Oregon Death with Dignity Act does not free a person from suffering, sadness or loss. Every day we can find opportunities to stand beside these people and remind them that God is there.
Tyrannosaur: Sundance Film Review
The Tyrannosaurus is recognized as one of the greatest and fiercest of the dinosaurs leaving crater-like footprints and devastation to life in their wake. In some ways the film Tyrannosaur is true to this root: devastating, powerful and irrevocably impacting. Both characters: Joseph (Peter Mullan), and Hannah (Olivia Colman) deliver compelling and fierce depictions of disappointment and loss. When they are together they find tenderness and safety but slowly, like the tide, are pulled back into the torrent seas of their lives. In the opening scenes the viewer is struck by the powerful and tormented character of Joseph and is brought into curiosity as he finds himself drunk and terrified in Hannah’s consignment shop. She is befuddled and asks if she could pray for him, and prays for his tormented soul expressing through prayer her desire for Joseph to have a deep and healing relationship with God. As their lives lean together, their stories unfold and the depth of their pain and suffering is stunning.
What was most powerful to me about this film is the subtle, defining commentary it made about rage. Rage is an emotion closely linked to anger. Anger is a feeling resulting from disappointment and hurt. If anger is devalued, hidden or repressed the result can often lead to rage—an extreme form of anger. Anger is a real and right emotion that helps make what is wrong, right. Rage is often the actions that accompany anger unmet, anger unleashed. In a society where “justice” is never satisfied and individual endeavors are glorified rage is a profound reality that leaves most running for the hills (emotionally, socially and intellectually).
As a Fuller student pursuing a vocation in hospital chaplaincy I have had to examine my own troubled soul filled with anger and indignation. I often ask patients and friends “how do you cope.” If I am lucky their reply will be prayer, friendship, hobbies or hope but those answers are never simple. I recommend the film Tyrannosaur for the pastor and church leader who is willing and able to step into the darkness and stand beside and practice healing through anger. To do this is difficult and never a short journey. Most often the wrongs that have been done can never be made right.
In my own life the journey to embrace anger has been difficult. I was, and still am, ashamed of anger. I too easily fall into the habit of justifying another person’s behavior by explaining them as “good intentions,” as if “good intentions” make any wrong, right. Without confronting, naming and knowing my anger I have been guilty of reacting and overreacting out of anger and fear, not love and mercy. We may have the best intentions, and I believe God can work in spite of my weaknesses, but God has called me to love my neighbor. My journey to healing has been a process through confrontation, embrace, conversations and a lot of prayer. I am grateful now that I can acknowledge and own my feelings of anger in order to explore their roots in injustice, dignity, fear and acceptance. These roots are the pieces that help us make healthy and gracious steps forward in our relationships, work and witness.
The film Tyrannosaur does not explicitly spell out an anecdote to cure rage and anger. Tyrannosaur explores the hope and devastation a person ravaged with anger lives with on a day-to-day basis. Hannah turns to alcohol and Joseph resorts to reckless violence to express their anger. They find respite in each other, a calm amid the storm, and for a moment experience peace and grace. This is shattered when Joseph’s image of Hannah, the religious one who is closer to God, is finally seen as a human just like himself. The question I am still chewing on is in my identification with both characters and in God’s ability to accept and handle anger.
What was most powerful to me about this film is the subtle, defining commentary it made about rage. Rage is an emotion closely linked to anger. Anger is a feeling resulting from disappointment and hurt. If anger is devalued, hidden or repressed the result can often lead to rage—an extreme form of anger. Anger is a real and right emotion that helps make what is wrong, right. Rage is often the actions that accompany anger unmet, anger unleashed. In a society where “justice” is never satisfied and individual endeavors are glorified rage is a profound reality that leaves most running for the hills (emotionally, socially and intellectually).
As a Fuller student pursuing a vocation in hospital chaplaincy I have had to examine my own troubled soul filled with anger and indignation. I often ask patients and friends “how do you cope.” If I am lucky their reply will be prayer, friendship, hobbies or hope but those answers are never simple. I recommend the film Tyrannosaur for the pastor and church leader who is willing and able to step into the darkness and stand beside and practice healing through anger. To do this is difficult and never a short journey. Most often the wrongs that have been done can never be made right.
In my own life the journey to embrace anger has been difficult. I was, and still am, ashamed of anger. I too easily fall into the habit of justifying another person’s behavior by explaining them as “good intentions,” as if “good intentions” make any wrong, right. Without confronting, naming and knowing my anger I have been guilty of reacting and overreacting out of anger and fear, not love and mercy. We may have the best intentions, and I believe God can work in spite of my weaknesses, but God has called me to love my neighbor. My journey to healing has been a process through confrontation, embrace, conversations and a lot of prayer. I am grateful now that I can acknowledge and own my feelings of anger in order to explore their roots in injustice, dignity, fear and acceptance. These roots are the pieces that help us make healthy and gracious steps forward in our relationships, work and witness.
The film Tyrannosaur does not explicitly spell out an anecdote to cure rage and anger. Tyrannosaur explores the hope and devastation a person ravaged with anger lives with on a day-to-day basis. Hannah turns to alcohol and Joseph resorts to reckless violence to express their anger. They find respite in each other, a calm amid the storm, and for a moment experience peace and grace. This is shattered when Joseph’s image of Hannah, the religious one who is closer to God, is finally seen as a human just like himself. The question I am still chewing on is in my identification with both characters and in God’s ability to accept and handle anger.
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