This is the title to a book written by Tim Sanders in 2003. At one time Sanders worked for Yahoo! and during his time there came to not only know the Lord, AND, more importantly and pertinently, he learned how to love as Jesus loved. Long before anyone knew anything about Apps for iphone, Apps for business, Apps for work, Apps for music, Apps for whatever you want an App ...Sanders took God's idea and came up with the THE App...LOVE and used it for his book. The thesis of the book is that love means a different way of leading people, of teaching them and directing them in the business world. Love wins - always.
Recently a friend was telling me about a conversation that she had had with her teenage son. He was having difficulty with a teacher in school and things were getting tricky. This teacher meant a lot to him and both were passionate about their subject but the young man did not like the manner in which he was being taught. Both student and teacher knew it and were struggling. My friend sat him down, looked him straight in his eyes and with all the deep and hard love that she has for her delightful and gifted youngest born said to him, "It doesn't really matter if you like him or not. You have to be bold and talk to him and get this sorted. You have to do that because it is not what he is expecting and we are to be different. We are called to LOVE because love is the difference. Love wins - every time."
Love wins - every time.
During the summer I played on a softball team and we were part of a league; a league that is made up of teams from across our denominational churches. We have had a lot of fun playing together and we have been able to get to know our peers better and some for the first time. Some of the team are really good players having hit balls, turned bases and made home runs since they were in elementary school, others on the team have never held a softball, let alone made it to home plate (how do you hold a bat properly anyway?). Our team made it to the playoffs and for the first game of the finals, our team of 10 showed up ready to warm up. However, that night, something was up. Guys who usually hit the ball out of the field were firing the large white object straight at the opposition making for easy catches. Women who have no trouble catching from any direction fumbled with the thing as if it were their first time on the base....we did not play well - at all. Our faces said it all, but what was more disturbing was the behavior of the opposing team. They were yelling at each other, turning bases like there was no tomorrow, and screaming at the umpire if he called a "wrong" call. OK, let's get real here. Our team might not have shown any shoddy behavior that night, but we have probably done before. However, that night any onlooker watching us would probably turn in disgust as they learned that we were a "church" league and might therefore decide that all those churchy people are really hypocrites after all....but worse because we say that we love each other and act like Jesus in ways that set us apart in a good way, but the reality is that we are just like the Pharisees.
Love wins - every time.
We are called to love each other and that might mean saying some words that we do not want to say because we might look bad but we need to take courage and say them all the same. Loving each other might be to encourage the other team just because no one ever does. Loving others might mean stepping back to let someone else get the prize because nothing is more important than loving one another as we love ourselves. Loving might be giving financially when no one else is looking or picking up the tab just for the heck of it or staying the extra hour when we would rather be home or or or...
Love wins - every time.
Love is doing what the world would encourage you to not do.
Jesus was not messing around when he told his disciples to love their neighbors as they loved themselves. He knew he was calling them to something different, something that the world did not, nor perhaps was not able to offer. He loved the woman at the well because she was a human being made in God's image and so he talked with her when no one else would. He loved Peter even though he knew that Peter would desert him in the dark moments on trial. Jesus loved Judas as he watched him get up from the table and betray him with a kiss. As he was hanging on the cross in unbelievable agony, Jesus loved the soldiers who sat before him, casting lots for his clothing.
And more than 2000 years later, Jesus calls me into a life of grace covering all my mistakes, mishaps, junk and deep down nonsense, calling me to love others as he has shown me to do.
Love wins - every time.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
A white coat with a gold cross does not a chaplain make.
"Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do amazing things among you” (Joshua 3:5)
How many times do I go to sleep thinking these words spoken by Joshua to the people? Not many. And yet I do believe that God can and does do amazing things...most of the time I am not cognizant of His activity. Well, today I think that I am. I believe that all summer, from the beginning of June until now, God has been doing amazing things among us. And I say, "us," because I have been working alongside an "us" for the past twelve weeks at an urban hospital that provides medical, surgical and emergency care fulfilling my C.P.E. requirements as the final part of my MDiv degree at North Park Theological Seminary. For those who are not familiar with the acronyms in Seminary, C.P.E. is Clinical Pastoral Education and in order to graduate from North Park, the MDiv students must complete at least six credits of C.P.E. For me, that meant walking the hallways of the hospital from June until the middle of August.
I am not kidding when I say that I felt slightly sick at the thought of spending that amount of time in a hospital and given the choice, I had no wish to do so. But I had no choice in whether or not my wishes mattered as I had to fulfill the requirements of the call. I have heard the stories from those who have gone before me in this call:
What I did learn during my twelve weeks was that the most important thing we can offer to patients and their families is our time and attention; unlimited, unhurried, time. Some of my visits to the men and women who needed medical care were short and uneventful. Others called for extended visits and when family members and patients asked if they were taking up too much of my time I learned to use a phrase that I have heard from another pastor: "You are the most important thing I have going on today." I suppose most of us seldom hear this phrase as we live in a culture of constant busyness. No one seems to have time for anyone, least of all for people they don't even know. We hardly have time for those we already love and for whom we care let alone for those we have just met or are being paid to visit. (OK...during the summer I was not being paid a dime but imagine with me ...)
One of my colleagues shared with me during our five hour course evaluation that she was concerned that I was not going to make it through as the first thing we did during our orientation was to visit the morgue. She was right. I was a mess. In front of me was a big black bag with the curves and shape of a person who at one time must have been loved by someone.
As I moved to allow another to come into the chilly basement, I turned to look behind me and saw a small, red bag that looked no more than the size of a target grocery bag. It had the distinct shape of a human life - except that there was no life contained in that bag, only a few pounds of human remains that contained so much potential for growth and promise but was stopped too short. The cold of the room did not stop me from sensing that unless I hotfooted it out of the door pretty fast, I might end up lying on the floor instead of walking on it. My colleague was not the only one wondering if I was going to get through his hospital ordeal and be intact twelve weeks later.
I became acutely cognizant that every person I met in the hospital whether doctor or nurse, housekeeper or security guard, patient or staff member is a human being made in the image of God and is therefore fearfully and wonderfully made. Our bodies do not work as we desire they should, cells turn from healthy and normal to cancerous and abnormal, bones get broken, hearts stop, organs get overloaded and quit functioning, and we forget that we are fragile and in need of healing. Then there is a soul that seems not to get a look in though as seminary students we are reminded that we are really souls with a body rather than bodies with a soul.
Early on in my time there I was paged to the IMCU (Intermediate Care Unit) and upon entering the room I saw a man who was no more than 30 years old, writhing on the bed and moaning quietly. Earlier that day he had tried to take his life and had botched the job leaving a mess of a life lying in front of me. Beside him sat a young woman, a sitter, unknown to him whose eyes were mostly fixed on her phone which she was using possibly using to text her friends to establish evening plans. Occasionally she would look up at the T.V. above the bed and she did throw me a glace when I entered the room. "What happened?" I asked her. "He tried to kill himself and he missed," she replied, a wry smile crossing her face. Her attitude was not kind but to her, this young man was only that; some young man. As she returned her attention to her phone, I wanted to ask her more questions but she most likely would not have the answers. I wanted to ask her if she cared that this young man hated his life so much that he had tried to end it. I wanted to ask her if she would ever think of doing such a thing or had she ever thought about it. I wanted to ask him who would miss him if he had succeeded in his effort. I wanted to ask him about the woman who had given him birth, the brothers and sisters he may have had. I wanted to ask him if he knew that there was a God who loved him or a Jesus who died for him but all he did was continue to moan and writhe on the narrow hospital bed. His situation was desperate but he was one who helped me realize with astonishing clarity that every life is precious and mysterious and fearful and wonderful and we cannot ever take it for granted.
How many times do I go to sleep thinking these words spoken by Joshua to the people? Not many. And yet I do believe that God can and does do amazing things...most of the time I am not cognizant of His activity. Well, today I think that I am. I believe that all summer, from the beginning of June until now, God has been doing amazing things among us. And I say, "us," because I have been working alongside an "us" for the past twelve weeks at an urban hospital that provides medical, surgical and emergency care fulfilling my C.P.E. requirements as the final part of my MDiv degree at North Park Theological Seminary. For those who are not familiar with the acronyms in Seminary, C.P.E. is Clinical Pastoral Education and in order to graduate from North Park, the MDiv students must complete at least six credits of C.P.E. For me, that meant walking the hallways of the hospital from June until the middle of August.
I am not kidding when I say that I felt slightly sick at the thought of spending that amount of time in a hospital and given the choice, I had no wish to do so. But I had no choice in whether or not my wishes mattered as I had to fulfill the requirements of the call. I have heard the stories from those who have gone before me in this call:
- all my issues will surface and will get in the way of "being" with patients
- I will spend considerable amounts of time wrestling with difficult situations
- I will be forced to reconsider what is allowed in a human life (i.e. various views on whether or not God was responsible)
- I will have to consider how unfair life or that my theology of human suffering does not even come close to the reality of the actuality which happens in families who are as broken and wretched as we are but have to admit it because they are lying in a shapeless green gown upon a hospital bed wondering what they did to deserve their lot.
What I did learn during my twelve weeks was that the most important thing we can offer to patients and their families is our time and attention; unlimited, unhurried, time. Some of my visits to the men and women who needed medical care were short and uneventful. Others called for extended visits and when family members and patients asked if they were taking up too much of my time I learned to use a phrase that I have heard from another pastor: "You are the most important thing I have going on today." I suppose most of us seldom hear this phrase as we live in a culture of constant busyness. No one seems to have time for anyone, least of all for people they don't even know. We hardly have time for those we already love and for whom we care let alone for those we have just met or are being paid to visit. (OK...during the summer I was not being paid a dime but imagine with me ...)
One of my colleagues shared with me during our five hour course evaluation that she was concerned that I was not going to make it through as the first thing we did during our orientation was to visit the morgue. She was right. I was a mess. In front of me was a big black bag with the curves and shape of a person who at one time must have been loved by someone.
As I moved to allow another to come into the chilly basement, I turned to look behind me and saw a small, red bag that looked no more than the size of a target grocery bag. It had the distinct shape of a human life - except that there was no life contained in that bag, only a few pounds of human remains that contained so much potential for growth and promise but was stopped too short. The cold of the room did not stop me from sensing that unless I hotfooted it out of the door pretty fast, I might end up lying on the floor instead of walking on it. My colleague was not the only one wondering if I was going to get through his hospital ordeal and be intact twelve weeks later.
I became acutely cognizant that every person I met in the hospital whether doctor or nurse, housekeeper or security guard, patient or staff member is a human being made in the image of God and is therefore fearfully and wonderfully made. Our bodies do not work as we desire they should, cells turn from healthy and normal to cancerous and abnormal, bones get broken, hearts stop, organs get overloaded and quit functioning, and we forget that we are fragile and in need of healing. Then there is a soul that seems not to get a look in though as seminary students we are reminded that we are really souls with a body rather than bodies with a soul.
Early on in my time there I was paged to the IMCU (Intermediate Care Unit) and upon entering the room I saw a man who was no more than 30 years old, writhing on the bed and moaning quietly. Earlier that day he had tried to take his life and had botched the job leaving a mess of a life lying in front of me. Beside him sat a young woman, a sitter, unknown to him whose eyes were mostly fixed on her phone which she was using possibly using to text her friends to establish evening plans. Occasionally she would look up at the T.V. above the bed and she did throw me a glace when I entered the room. "What happened?" I asked her. "He tried to kill himself and he missed," she replied, a wry smile crossing her face. Her attitude was not kind but to her, this young man was only that; some young man. As she returned her attention to her phone, I wanted to ask her more questions but she most likely would not have the answers. I wanted to ask her if she cared that this young man hated his life so much that he had tried to end it. I wanted to ask her if she would ever think of doing such a thing or had she ever thought about it. I wanted to ask him who would miss him if he had succeeded in his effort. I wanted to ask him about the woman who had given him birth, the brothers and sisters he may have had. I wanted to ask him if he knew that there was a God who loved him or a Jesus who died for him but all he did was continue to moan and writhe on the narrow hospital bed. His situation was desperate but he was one who helped me realize with astonishing clarity that every life is precious and mysterious and fearful and wonderful and we cannot ever take it for granted.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Last things....always means that something else is about to start.
I text-ed a friend at the beginning of this week saying this was a week of last things; last time in the hospital, last one-on-one meeting with my supervisor, last group meeting, last on-call. She text back something like this: "Oh I love last things because that means that there is more ahead." She had a completely different view on my situation. I was thinking to myself that although this is a week of last things, I have little idea of what is next and that puts me in a vulnerable position. it's all very well thinking that last things always lead to next things but it would be kind of lovely and settling to know what is that "next".
Today I wrote my final papers that I will ever write for seminary - ever. No PhD for me - that's for sure. Tomorrow's group meeting will complete the final requirements that will fulfill all that i need to do in order to get my diploma and attach MDiv after my name - that I will never actually do, but I could if I wanted. Last things always lead to new things and "new" things might not be as good as the last. However, I do believe that God has called me to GOOD things and they are always good but perhaps it might be hard to see the good in them - perhaps...at first. When I left Bend, OR, I could not believe that I could ever have as good a place to be and live and grow as where's as beautiful as Bend (there was more to it than that, but that is all I am sharing just now). As I headed out of the city and saw the mountains grow small in my rear view mirror, I distinctly heard the Spirit whisper to me, "Do you not think I could be that good to you again?" And by good I mean to be with people who hike and bike and swim and sail and walk and know that they are fortunate to live in such a place that allows them to do this. By good I mean to be with people who love hard and hurt and cry with and for each other when others are hurting and pray and learn and grow and admit that there is no such thing as "having it all together." By good I mean to have daily time to be in God's Word and learn and search and listen and watch God up to amazing things EVERY DAY and notice those things and get to be a part of them.
Last things are always good because they mean the start of more ahead....
Sunday, August 1, 2010
A transitional moment
"In a transition you strip away all those things that are not important and you discover what is real." (Erwin McManus)
I heard this statement this morning and it resonated so powerfully with everything that is going on with me right now - and in the lives of some of the people closest to me. This past Sunday we hosted a party for a friend who is leaving the US after being here for just over five years and is returning to his home country of Japan. I say "home" loosely because home for him has also included the UK. However, a week from today he is flying out of the US, via California and heading out east around the globe to japan. As three of us were chatting in the kitchen tidying and washing the evidence of plates of food and drinks, our Japanese friend remarked that he was grieving; thinking of the loss of the what he has had in Chicago for the past nearly six years - two of those years were out of school and out of Chicago - but here has been in the USA working towards his 2nd Master's degree and now he is looking to be on staff with a ministry in his country of origin working with students. So he grieves; the friends he has made and will not see for a long while again (if at all), the life as student which does come with responsibilities of studying and assignments but has freedoms that most of us do not realize until we are out of school, and deep relationships that can never be matched because we will never be the same again - ever - we will never have this time again, in this place with these people because moments only come in the time that we have them.
So I am learning that grieving does not only come when a life passes from here to the next, but when relationships are broken through geographical change and situation. We have technology to simulate connection but there was a reason that when God made the earth and everything in it, He looked at Adam and said, "It is not good for man to be alone." All the creatures had another but the human being had no suitable partner. We were never meant to be alone; in fact we were made for relationship to one another even though that gets messy at times. We were meant to live in community with one another and it is not good for anyone to be alone. That does not mean that we always have to live in each others lives in an unhealthy co-dependent way, but it does means that when a part of the body (and I mean "body" in a 1 Corinthians type of way) moves away, however that manifests itself (physically in this case), the body will hurt, possibly only for a while, but probably more.
Good -bye, Yasu, at least for the time being.
I heard this statement this morning and it resonated so powerfully with everything that is going on with me right now - and in the lives of some of the people closest to me. This past Sunday we hosted a party for a friend who is leaving the US after being here for just over five years and is returning to his home country of Japan. I say "home" loosely because home for him has also included the UK. However, a week from today he is flying out of the US, via California and heading out east around the globe to japan. As three of us were chatting in the kitchen tidying and washing the evidence of plates of food and drinks, our Japanese friend remarked that he was grieving; thinking of the loss of the what he has had in Chicago for the past nearly six years - two of those years were out of school and out of Chicago - but here has been in the USA working towards his 2nd Master's degree and now he is looking to be on staff with a ministry in his country of origin working with students. So he grieves; the friends he has made and will not see for a long while again (if at all), the life as student which does come with responsibilities of studying and assignments but has freedoms that most of us do not realize until we are out of school, and deep relationships that can never be matched because we will never be the same again - ever - we will never have this time again, in this place with these people because moments only come in the time that we have them.
So I am learning that grieving does not only come when a life passes from here to the next, but when relationships are broken through geographical change and situation. We have technology to simulate connection but there was a reason that when God made the earth and everything in it, He looked at Adam and said, "It is not good for man to be alone." All the creatures had another but the human being had no suitable partner. We were never meant to be alone; in fact we were made for relationship to one another even though that gets messy at times. We were meant to live in community with one another and it is not good for anyone to be alone. That does not mean that we always have to live in each others lives in an unhealthy co-dependent way, but it does means that when a part of the body (and I mean "body" in a 1 Corinthians type of way) moves away, however that manifests itself (physically in this case), the body will hurt, possibly only for a while, but probably more.
Good -bye, Yasu, at least for the time being.
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