I hate these days

These days are the worst days.

I hate these days.

These days bring so much sadness.

These days bring tears to my eyes.

Every one of these days.

This morning I drove to LAX and dropped off my son, not to see him again for months. I really thought that I could do it without crying this time. I reminded myself that I will be able to see him in less than three months… It didn’t work.


I remember the day that Jennifer left for her summer mission trip eight years ago. I was so proud of her, so glad that she was doing such a good thing. I cried the entire 45 minute drive to work. Every time we put her on the plane to go back to college I would tear up. Separation brings me so many tears.

The drop offs with Dillon are much tougher. I think a good part of it is because it was our move back to California is what caused the distance between us. But, I think that the hardest part, the greatest contributor to what aches my heart today, is has a lot to do with losing my dad when I was eighteen. As an adult I never had a father-son relationship with my dad. And, as I told God this morning, I didn’t get that part of the relationship with my dad and I want it with my son.

So, the separation hurts.

And now I am back in Brea, with three of the four most important people in the world to me, all within a mile or so from me.

Back to our routine.

Routine, except that I hate these days.

December 14th is always a tough day.

The fog was pretty heavy this morning as I drove Alyssa up to school. I could see about 200 yards down the road, and maybe less than 100 yards up near the high school. My memories of of December 1982 are sometimes like trying to look through the morning fog. That was a rough time in my life; my dad had cancer and was dying.

At that point in my life I was living in survival mode, trying to be strong. I was wearing on the best mask that I could conceive - confident, unaffected, positive. I had been using that coping mechanism since childhood, so I went with what I knew. I think that part of my struggles in remembering that time in my life is in part all of the positive self-talk I was engaging in (when you are eighteen you can think that nothing is going to affect you). Nonetheless, there are parts of that month that are crystal clear in my memory, like they happen last year, or last month.

I can remember my Aunt Nancy calling me, saying that I needed to come home. I remember his hospital room. I remember seeing him lying in his bed, and the tear running down his cheek as he tried to speak to me. I remember answering the phone when the doctor called to tell us he was gone. I remember hearing my Gramps breaking down when Cindy had to call him to tell him the awful news.

I have never stopped missing him. Its been more than 28 years since that day I last spoke to him, touched his hand,  kissed his forehead, and told him that I loved him... There are times that the loss doesn't hurt as much. There are days that pass when I don't think about him even once. But, there are days that I miss him dearly. Today is one of those days.

We never got to experience the best things that a man and his son can share together. He couldn't come to my wedding. I was never able to introduce him to his wonderful grandchildren. He never got to hold them. He never got to see Jennifer sing, or come to one of Dillon's games, or watch Alyssa march with the Blue Devils. He missed out on so much.

I miss my dad. I still wish that he was here. I wish that I could share with him the things that are happening in my life. So much has happened, things that he would have loved. Today is a hard day for me. I lost my dad twenty eight years ago today. I feel cheated. And it still hurts.


On this morning the fog and overcast skies seem quite apropos.

Celebrate... right?

It has been three months since I have posted anything on this blog. Three months... I remember when I started this blog last January I said something like “If you find me blogging for more than three consecutive days, pray for me to get more work.” How funny is that!

So, the question is: Why haven't I been here for 90 days? Have I been in a coma? Did I lose my computer? Has nothing significant occurred since Jenn & Andy's wedding? No. No. No. And no. I don't think that I've lost interest either... I'm really not sure...
So, what is happening now? Well, I am nearly finished with my Human Development degree from Hope! I will graduate in two weeks. This should be exciting. Really, it should. For some reason it isn't. I mean, it's like this – just last week I was considering whether or not I should even show up for graduation. Maybe it is that I have a two year masters program beginning in January that is preoccupying my mind.... I don't know.
 
Nevertheless, whatever the reason is, I really do need to celebrate my achievement. Therefore, I think I will change my mindset about graduating on the 18th. Since I have a tendency not to get too excited about things (except some sports) the process of celebrating the occasion might be therapeutic for me.
 
So, to help me out I'm looking for ideas and suggestions on how to celebrate such an occasion (a 46 year old earning his bachelor's degree). Thanks :)

Jenn is Married!

Yes, this past Saturday I walked my eldest daughter Jennifer Miller down the “aisle,” and placed her left hand in the hand of Andrew Kornoff. Within the next fifteen minutes my first born child no longer bore my name, but that of a man she barely knew just ten short months ago.

 A new chapter has begun in the story of the Miller family.

I guess that’s why I call this blog Life and the Journey.

Now come new situations with questions like: When will we next hear from Jenn? Before the cruise, or after?Will Andy and Jenn spend Thanksgiving with us or Andy's family? Will Jenn's first baby boy still be named Michael? Will Jenn wait until I'm 50, or will I be one of those "young" grandfathers?


A bit of irony followed the next day as Yvonne, Alyssa, Dillon, Megan (Dillon’s fiancée), and I spent the day at the “Happiest Place on Earth.” It was five people, like old times, but with a significant variation.

In The Midst of Change

Yesterday afternoon Yvonne and I took a short walk over to some friends to see their newborn baby. The little guy was born last Wednesday AM into a family that includes a three year-old brother, six year-old half-brother, his dad Chris, and a very relieved to no longer be pregnant mom Jen.

As Yvonne and Jen discussed all things baby, commenting on little toes, wrinkles, nails, and very small clothing, Chris and I discussed the changes that are upon our respective families. Chris and Jen are in one of the beginning phases of family life. Yvonne and I are in a place where we are phasing out of the roles we have been playing as parents, and into uncharted territories of our own.

As our Jenn heads rapidly toward marriage, and Dillon moves in that same direction at a slower pace, Yvonne and I find ourselves in a place that we welcome with open arms. Watching my children move through the different stages from adolescence into adulthood has been quite enjoyable for me. Seeing their maturation, improved decision making, and growth gives me a sense that we’ve done some things the right way.

In addition to Jenn’s and Dillon’s growth, we are watching Alyssa develop towards young adulthood in her own way. This summer she is traveling with the Blue Devils B Drum and Bugle Corps. For two months she will be traveling, rehearsing, training, eating, and sleeping with her corps. When she returns home I expect to a “new and improved”, more mature, more disciplined, more driven version of our sixteen year-old.

Some have asked if Yvonne and I are struggling with all of these changes. The answer is simply, “no”. The process of Jenn’s “moving out” began seven years ago when she went to college in Missouri. She has had a couple of stints when she has come back to live with us, but for the most part has been out of the house since 2003. Dillon moved out of the house and into the dorm in 2005. His process of becoming his own man is the type that I wish for all young men. He has had ups and downs, but has persevered and grown through his challenges.

Others have questioned whether Yvonne and I are having trouble “letting go” of our kids. That answer is another resounding “no”. Alyssa is at a stage where she needs to grow and make some of her own choices; her time with the Blue Devils is a great opportunity for that. Seeing Dillon become his own man is something I have looked forward to for many years. My dad died when I was eighteen. He never got the chance to see me grow beyond my teen years. I appreciate every aspect of Dillon’s maturation process. Jenn and Andy’s process of becoming a couple has been fun to watch. As she “leaves” us and “cleaves” to Andy, we are witnessing a process that is not only natural, but also fun to watch. Any case of struggling to let her go at this age, and stage of her life, would be nothing short of unhealthy.

I once heard hilarious speaker at a pastor’s conference talking about these types of changes. He said something like, “You know what freedom is? Freedom is when the last kid moves out and the dog dies!”

I told Yvonne the other day that I would like to get a dog someday down the road. She gave me a look that said, “Are you kidding?”

"Others"

The back of the red F-150 read “others”… It’s probably the most peculiar bumper sticker I have ever encountered. Driving on the roads and freeways in and around Southern California can elicit numerous thoughts and emotions. Every so often bumper stickers will cause me to smile, or shake my head, or think. This one reading “others” seemed to really hit home.

So much of my day is all about me. My thoughts are about my diet; my pleasure; my interests; my studies… So, what is this guy with the red truck trying to say? What is his point? Why is he picking on me?

It’s Thursday morning and I am fulfilling my carpool duties. I ask Alyssa, “What is the agenda for school today? Any tests or quizzes?” She replies, “We are having the fiesta in Spanish class. And, I forgot the (nacho) cheese sauce.” As she completed her sentence I could see that she was discouraged. Her discouragement was almost matched by my displeasure. It was for that cheese sauce that I went to the store the evening before, and paid for it myself. To make things worse, I’m on a diet and can’t eat that stuff, so there’s no bonus for it being left home. I asked if we should turn around to get it. She said no, that it would make them late for school.

As I drove back to the coffee shop to do some work for my ethics class I started thinking about that cheese. “If I go home, get it, and bring it to school, it will cost me thirty minutes, not to mention the two bucks in gas”.

Others

So, I drove past Starbucks and headed home. I called Yvonne and asked her to bring the cheese out to me when I pulled into the driveway. She did. I sent Alyssa a text instructing her to meet me at the turn around during her snack break. I pulled up to the school at five minutes to ten, Alyssa waiting by the curb. She opened the passenger side door, grabbed the cheese, and said “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Others

I’m not really sure what long-term affect this cheese delivery of mine will have on the relationship Alyssa and I share. I doubt that while she is on tour this summer, on a long night-time bus ride, that she will remember my heroic act and shed a tear because her dad loves her so much. Nevertheless, I did do something for somebody else, which may lead to another time to help somebody, which may develop into a habit. Maybe that is the best thing.

Others

A New Kind of Christianity: The Third Question

After spending nearly three weeks on a two-week job, I find myself with a few minutes time to reflect on McLaren’s third question, The God Question. McLaren divide’s his thoughts in two chapters entitled: Is God Violent; and From a Violent Tribal God to a Christlike God.

Since we are free to eliminate the effects of the Greco-Roman distortion of the biblical narrative, we can read the Bible as a community library rather than as a constitution, and we can bring into the focus the stories of God as good creator, passionate liberator, and reconciling king, but we are still left with the fact that there are some much less palatable images of God to be found in scripture – ‘violent images, cruel images, un-Christlike images’ (98). So, now what do we do?

McLaren suggests that the answer is to recognize that the Bible presents the reader with an evolving understanding of God across biblical history. This is evident in five different areas: 1) God’s uniqueness found in the development of an exclusive monotheism; 2) Ethically, in the shift from a preoccupation with ‘religious and ceremonial fidelity’ to a concern for social justice; 3) In God’s universality, found in the development from tribalism to universalism; 4) In God’s agency, changing from sporadic and exceptional intervention to a more balanced providential presence; and 5) In God’s character, specifically the maturation process among biblical writers, and their evolving understanding of God’s character from violent and capricious to gentle and compassionate. McLaren sums it up here:

I am not saying that the Bible reveals a process of evolution within God’s actual character… I am saying that human beings can’t do better than their very best at any given moment to communicate about God as they understand God, and that Scripture faithfully reveals the evolution of our ancestors’ best attempts to communicate their successive best understandings of God. As human capacity grows to conceive of a higher and wiser view of God, each new vision is faithfully preserved in Scripture like fossils in layers of sediment. (103)

To take it one step further McLaren adds: “… we cannot, we must not, assume that we have arrived. In other words, if we can look back and see the process unfolding in the past - in the Bible, in theological history - then we have no reason to believe that the process has stopped unfolding now (105).” Just like you and I see our world through the lenses of the lives we have lived, McLaren claims that the human beings who produced the passages of scripture “would naturally see God through the lens of their experience (106).”

McLaren takes time to compare the biblical stories of destruction to the narratives being told in the ancient Near East at that time. Primarily the Gilgamesh Epic vs. the flood story. He notes how the biblical story is, at minimum, an improvement because the flood story has some morality within it. The understanding of God then progresses, somewhat like how an understanding of mathematics progresses from one subject to the next. Continuing through the Old Testament and into the New Testament, and the stories found within them, he adds: “This approach helps us see the biblical library as a series of trade-ups, people courageously letting go of their state-of-the-art understanding of God when an even better understanding begins to emerge (111).” He later sums up his line of reasoning by concluding: “we can only discern God’s character in a mature way from the vantage point of the end of the story, seen in the light of Jesus (114).”

Ok, so what do I think? I have been trying to wrap my head around all this stuff for about a month, and am still trying to process it. Nevertheless, I think that McLaren has given us a very intelligent, and biblical, framework for understanding the nature of God. As I deliberate these thoughts, and what I know of Jesus, I am drawn back to a saying attributed to Quaker scholar Elton Trueblood found in this book, “The historic Christian doctrine of the divinity of Christ does not simply mean that Jesus is like God. It is far more radical than that. It means that God is like Jesus.”

Are Relationships Worth the Work?

Last week I turned 46 years old. One would think that as we get older things in life should be easier and make more sense. Unfortunately, I am not finding this to be true. If you look to my personal information on my Facebook profile you will see that one of my interests is healthy relationships. I sometimes wonder about this...


The year 2005 was a real game changer for me. When the year began I was a church planter with the Northwest Baptist Association in Liberty Lake, WA. The best part was, for the first time in my life I was doing something that I wanted to do. Two months later I found my world turned upside down; I was out of a job, out of ministry, out of money, and not sure if I would still be married for very long. It was the worst year of my life…

One year later, in the Spring of 2006 I found myself out of a (paying) job, out of a ministry (on paper), and pretty much out of money. The biggest difference was that with the help of a good marriage and family therapist (and a whole lot of prayer) my marriage and relationship with Yvonne was restored and very much healed.

So, what happened??? Well, skipping a whole lot of details (and about six months of Hell), someone decided to invest himself in me, and then in our marriage. Doug was our counselor, and the help that he gave to us allowed both Yvonne and me to make changes in ourselves to become better people. Some consequent reflection on the changes in our lives, and how they came about, has led both of us to set a new course in life so we can help others in the same manner that Doug helped us.

The question in my head today is: Why have relationships become so difficult since we have made that decision? We have had major “issues” with our extended family and with friends that just one year ago we spent every weekend with! What is the deal???

After some more reflection I think that it might be two things: 1) Real, genuine relationships take work and 2) People don’t cope well with change, especially families! Here is some of what I have learned on my journey:

Beyond the cliché, relationships do take work! Some people are just not up to the task. There will inevitably be conflict in any relationship. Off the top of my head I can think of three ways to “deal” with conflict: 1. Pretend it isn’t there (which may involve a lot of stuffing), 2. Walk away from the relationship (which suggests that relationships are disposable-not a good habit to get into) and 3. Do the work to resolve the conflict (which usually takes effective communication, listening, honesty, humility, and introspection).

Change comes easier to some than others. Often within a family dynamic when one individual changes a lifestyle or behavior it does not bode well with the other members of that family. Sometimes this is called homeostasis. Homeostasis is defined as: the tendency of a system, esp. the physiological system of higher animals, to maintain internal stability. The term “family homeostasis” is used by psychologists to describe how families resist change and seek to maintain redundant patterns of behavior.

So, we find ourselves in conflict and getting nowhere fast. Those whom we are in conflict have chosen to: 1) Not do the (sometimes) hard work of having an honest relationship-the one time I did get honest with the person sent her into tears-so it is easier to dispose with the relationship. 2) Resist change and strive to maintain homeostasis because they were happy with the long time status quo and the roles each family member played.

I asked my working partner Ted if my life had too much drama. He answered me the next day by saying that I should consider the direction that I have chosen to work in. He said that I should expect challenges and growth to come my way. For some strange reason I thought that having healthy relationships would come easy. I am learning that it is not solely the marriage relationship that takes two willing partners to work.

The changes that came to me beginning in 2005, to make me a better person, and the changes that have come Yvonne's way, have made things tougher. I never did expect the irony, that the positives in our lives would create tensions and so much conflict. The positive is that there is no substitution for personal experience, which we are getting our share of.

So, who is this about???

OK, it has been exactly three weeks since I have had any “me” time, and thanks to a plumber holding Ted and me up on our job today, I now have some time to sit, think, and write! The last few weeks have been quite eventful for my family and myself, and have given me cause to process some weighty issues concerning family, friends, and relationships.


About three weeks ago my daughter Jenn became engaged to be married to Andrew Kornoff. This is a good thing! The challenge is that they have set the date to be September 4th of this year, which affords only about eighteen weeks to pull it off. It promises to be a fast and furious four months!

We have done the “meet the parents” thing with the Kornoffs over dinner, and at a very organized strategy briefing a week or so later. It is so much fun watching Jenn and Andy working together on all their wedding-type stuff as they morph from individuals into a couple right before our eyes. Last weekend we had the opportunity to get to know our daughter’s future in-laws a little better. We had the occasion to attend Andy’s dinner to celebrate his graduation from Western State Law on Saturday evening, followed up by Jenn and Andy’s engagement party, hosted by the Kornoff’s on Sunday.

The downer to this whole thing is that we have a member of our extended family who showed up and cast a dark shadow over the engagement party. As we all know families can be weird, and too often have more drama and conflict within them what one would consider to be healthy. This person unexpectedly showed up (she did not RSVP) and brought a life’s worth of anger, bitterness, and discontent with her. This person’s behavior was capped off by the choice to confront my wife about something - in the hallway between the kitchen and family room, in my daughter’s future in-law’s home, in sight of the entire party. This was about the most inappropriate behavior I have ever witnessed. This person chose to bring her bitterness, and her agenda into a setting that was intended to celebrate the engagement of a young couple. She chose to make this occasion about her, and her issues.

In addition to our busy social calendar, my work has taken up quite a bit of time the last two weeks. I have been working with my buddy Ted installing tile floors and a new shower for a wonderful woman in Mission Viejo over the past two weeks. I want to explain what I meant when I said my work “has taken up quite a bit of time” earlier. Our customer, Dianna, is a woman in her sixties (I guess, would never ask), who tirelessly cares for her disabled husband Roger. Roger has a neurological disorder prohibiting him from using his muscles, leaving him bed and wheelchair bound for the past three or four years. She does everything for him.

Dianna has not been the easiest customer to work for. Ted and I figure that the combination of indecision and unpreparedness have cost us at least a day and a half on this job. We have both found ourselves frustrated and stressed at our lack of progress caused by factors that are out of our control. On Monday or Tuesday we were discussing this job and our frustrations when we came to the conclusion that maybe this job was not about us, or our expectations, or our schedule. But, maybe this job was about someone else. Someone who is in a place in life that she never would have conceived she would find herself in. Someone who’s role in life has dramatically changed, who’s dreams have been quashed, who’s plans for retirement and travel with her husband of forty-plus years have been stolen from her.

Borrowing from Donald Miller, maybe this whole thing isn’t about how much Mike and Ted will earn, or how quickly I can move on to my next job, or how much time I can have for my studies. Maybe right now Dianna isn’t the bit part player in my life’s story. Maybe I am the small character in her story. I believe that my part is to be an encourager to someone who needs every bit of encouragement she can get, and to ensure that her needs are met.

Sadly, what I am sharing with you is what I have become convicted of; these are not anecdotes coming from some sort of victory. In Matthew chapter 20 Jesus says: Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not be served… I think that a big part of being a servant is having the mindset that says “it might not be all about me.” The events of the past week have proven this to be true to me.

Carlos

Yesterday morning started off no different than most other days. Since I didn’t have a job for the day I figured I would head down to Starbucks after I completed my carpool obligation for the day. I sat in one of the comfy chairs with my cup of Pike Place Roast in my hand and began conversing with my friend Mike about crucial matters such as airline fees and hockey scores. A man, possibly homeless, had been sitting next to us and had fallen asleep for a few minutes. Little did I know that this man would end up changing my day.

About five or ten minutes into our conversation the man looked up toward us and began talking to us with an apology. “Excuse me for interrupting, but I heard you talking about God, and I’m… I’m… I’m just so hungry…” And he began to weep. He looked clean, he was freshly shaven, his clothing was in good shape; I wondered if he was homeless. I asked him his name; he said “Carlos”. I looked in my wallet and saw that I had three one dollar bills and a twenty. Mike (other Mike) had five ones, so between us we gave him eight bucks.

Carlos took the money, rather sheepishly. I asked him if he was looking for work; he said “Yes”. “I worked for a guy for three hours on Saturday…” Then he held out his left hand to us. “Look at my hand, I can hardly use it.” On the back of his hand, where his thumb connects to it, there was a disfigurement. “I used to be a barber…” He began to weep again. “For twenty six years I was a barber… now I can’t work.” I asked him if he lives in our area. He looked down at the ground and slowly shook his head; “I am homeless”. After asking him a few more questions I was pretty sure that Carlos was being truthful to us. My next thoughts were about what can I do for this guy? Or, what should I do for him? Eight bucks surely won’t change anything.

I have a friend, who is well connected with Set Free Ministries, but they usually work with guys coming off of drugs or out of jail out at their ranch, and Carlos didn’t seem to be that type. I told Carlos that I had a friend that worked with a ministry that helped out men and asked if that was something he would be interested in. His countenance changed 100 percent and he began to smile. “You would do something like that for me? Why would you do that?” My heart sank a little right then for Carlos… What caused this man to have so little self-worth? What has his life been like for the last three years, since his injury, to cause him to think that I was doing that I was doing such a “great” thing for him? Had nobody ever offered to help him?

I suggested that Carlos go over to BK and get something to eat while I contact my friend. I called Don O. and asked him if Set Free would be a fit for Carlos. Don said yes, that it would be a fit and that they would take him, but to ask Carlos to be sure that he wanted to do it. When Carlos returned he had not bought anything to eat. I asked him what was up. “Eight dollars… is a lot… I have to think about this… how I am going to use it… I could use it for two or three days…” I began to understand that if Carlos went to the store, he could buy bread, etc. and get much more mileage out of the eight bucks than if he bought one-dollar burgers. More importantly, I began to appreciate his dilemma even more. I asked him if he wanted me to take him to Set Free, he said “yes”.

Now, I’ve never done anything like this before. Once a guy came to my church, and told me that he wanted help getting off drugs. I called Don, handed the phone to the guy, and within 20 minutes the guy and Don left for the Ranch. This was different; I had been conversing with Carlos for over an hour. And Don could not pick him up! I was still a bit apprehensive about driving with this stranger (homeless stranger) by myself in my car. “Who can drive with me out there?” I thought. After calling every member of the staff at our church and three other potential guys and getting nowhere I decided that I would need to take him out myself. I called Don and told him that I was on my way. He said that he would call them and let them know I was coming.

As we got into the car and headed down the road he asked me again “why do you want to do this for me?” I answered, “Because you are important Carlos... You matter… And, you matter to the Lord.” We spoke about many things on our drive, about his brother dying a couple of years ago, about a sister who doesn’t want anything to do with him, and about his sixteen year old son who lives in San Francisco. When we got off the freeway he told me “I can’t do this.” I told him he could. “No, I can’t” he replied. “Well, we drove all the way out here; we might as well meet these people before we make a decision” (whew, quick thinking Mike). “I am scared”, I told him that I would be afraid too. “I feel sick”, “like butterflies?” I said. “Yeah.”

As we pulled into the church parking lot he expressed his apprehension once again. I asked two guys where I could find “Johnny”, and they pointed to him. Carlos had not yet opened the door to get out of the van. I walked over to the van and opened the door and said “Let’s go meet these people.” Carlos got out and we walked over and met Johnny. Johnny asked Carlos a few questions then said “We need to get you some rest, and then something to eat.” Carlos, looking at the ground, nodded. “You’re in the right place” Johnny told him; Carlos nodded. I shook Johnny’s hand and thanked him, turned toward Carlos, who stepped toward me and hugged me, and we said goodbye. I walked over to our van and headed back to Orange County.

When I arrived back in Brea it was already 2:30 pm. Four hours had passed since Carlos first mustered up the nerve to speak of his hunger to us. I had spent three dollars, and maybe ten bucks for gas, not really much of an investment. I was able to speak words of life to him; words saying that he mattered, that he is important, and that he can achieve the things he wants to-including seeing his son again. I hope that Carlos will find all the things he needs to get his life back on track. I hope that he finds a relationship with God. I am glad that I was in the right place at the right time.

A New Kind of Christianity: The Second Question

OK, so it’s been over three weeks since I have blogged about A New Kind of Christianity. If anyone has lost sleep, anxiously waiting what I would say next: 1) I apologize. 2) Please seek professional help.

McLaren’s second question is The Authority Question. Specifically “How Should the Bible Be Understood?” McLaren begins his exploration of this question by discussing some of the problems fundamentalism has had with its practices concerning the Bible. McLaren uses, as a prime example, the pro slavery argument of the 18th century as an example of how some will misuse the scriptures to make a political or personal point. He concludes that ‘very few Christians today, in my experience anyway, have given a second thought to – much less repented of – this habitual, conventional way of reading and interpreting the Bible that allowed slavery, anti-Semitism, apartheid, chauvinism, environmental plundering, prejudice against gay people, and other injustices to be legitimized and defended for so long’ (76).

McLaren progresses to examine the root cause of the above mentioned problems. He believes that we (US Christians) have been taught to read the Bible as a “legal constitution.” This leads us down the path of believing that the Bible was written with the specific reason for establishing rules and precedents for belief and behavior. (The point McLaren makes here reminds me of reading Erwin McManus, when he speaks of our faith not being all about “sin management”.) McLaren argues that this is simply a distortion of the nature of the text. “Whatever the Bible is, it is simply not a constitution… it is actually ‘something far more interesting and important: it’s the library of a culture and community – the culture and community of people who trace their history back to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob’ (81). He continues saying: “A culture, then, is a group of people who say different things about the same things. They propose a variety of answers to the same questions…”seen this way, the Bible would be expected to contain the very opposite of the internal consistency we require in a constitution…”(82) McLaren then adds a very interesting quote from a friend of his: “The Bible isn’t meant to be read.” (McLaren suggests, as do I, that we should ponder that statement for a moment before moving on). “What he is saying is that the Bible is meant to be heard.”

In the third part of his response to the authority question McLaren explores the conversational model of divine revelation. He suggests that the book of Job ‘provides an excellent case study in approaching the Bible in a postconstitutional way’ (87) – in effect, a model for biblical revelation as a whole. McLaren claims: “I can conclude that neither Deuteronomy nor Job speaks nonsense, but rather we speak nonsense when we practice verse snatching from Deuteronomy, the middle of Job, or anywhere else. Why? Because revelation doesn’t simply happen in statements. It happens in conversations and arguments that take place within and among communities…” (90)

Yes, with out a doubt McLaren will be accused heresy once again. I think that he goes a bit overboard with his example of pro-slavery Northern American Fundamentalists. I think he is spot on to bring into light to the truth that the Bible is a problematic text in the postmodern world. He is also right to argue that some new way of reading is necessary if Christianity is to have a viable future. I have long thought that the idea of the Bible being an answer book for all of life’s problems was quite flawed; After reading these chapters from McLaren my resolve is only stronger.

Judging, Splinters, Logs, and Pharisees

It has been about three weeks since my last blog, which means that I have been working (yay), and busy with school and travel (btw McLaren takes time to digest). Nonetheless, I do have something that I'd like to share...

I remember when I was thirteen years old going to see the movie The Bad News Bears In Breaking Training. This was a particularly memorable occasion because I went to the movie with my friends and without any adults. The film (term used loosely) wasn’t very memorable, or very good; Nevertheless, I do have one lasting impression in my mind. Something that only an immature thirteen year old could cherish and has remained etched in my memory for far too long.

The scene has plagued my mind for nearly thirty-three years comes from the beginning of the movie when the team’s new coach, Mr. Manning, is lecturing them. What happens is the coach pulls out a piece of chalk and writes the word “assume” on the chalk board, he then divides the word into three parts like this “ass/u/me” and utters the famous proverb “Never assume anything! Because, you end up making an ass out of you or me!”

Last Friday my wife received a somewhat concerning text message from a concerned parent/friend. Yvonne, deeply concernedherself  over the content of the message, immediately called the other parent to discuss the message. When Yvonne spoke with the other person it was reported to her that our 16 year old daughter had been ditching class, and drinking. “The entire band knows it” we were told… When Yvonne told me my first thought was “where does she get it?” I remember being sixteen or seventeen and knowing which liquor store to hang out near that gave us the best chance to score a six pack-usually from a male, most likely driving a truck or muscle car, certainly wearing a moustache…

Upon further review, and after the initial shock, we discussed the matter and were not convinced that our daughter was a real candidate for such misdemeanors. We decided to call the reporter back and ask the all important questions: “has anyone seen her do such things?” and “or, does she come to class with alcohol on her breath?” “No” was the answer, “but she brags about it to so and so… And, she really disses on you two… my son told me” (Yes, we were knee deep in high school rumor-ville).

The short version of the long story is that our daughter does have a friend, who drinks a little, but she does not; Her “ditching classes” are actually times when her teachers have allowed her out of class; and her disrespectful talk was the retelling of a family conflict to another friend in which the reporting son of hers only heard half of the story.

Yesterday our daughter asked this “concerned parent” if she would be interested in sponsoring her for her drum corps tour this summer. The response to our daughter read: “I believe u need to focus on ur life & relationship w/ the Lord right now, so , no, I can’t support anything that will distract from that.”

Nuff said???

A New Kind of Christianity: the first question

Last time I blogged I wrote that I would be commenting on Brian McLaren’s A New Kind of Christianity and the ten questions raised in the book… So, here I go!

The first question McLaren raises is: The narrative question: What is the overarching story of the Bible? I like this question because it is such an important topic of discussion for the 21st century. For too long many in the church (and many not in the church) have treated the Bible as a book of do’s and don’ts, or as a manual of “how to do this or that”-which has never sat well with me.

The first thing that McLaren establishes is his interpretation of what the modern day gospel has become over the centuries. The traditional plot, McLaren suggests, has six elements: 1) humanity begins in the perfect condition of Eden; 2) humanity has fallen from that perfection into 3) a state of condemnation; 4) salvation provides an escape from condemnation to 5) eternal life; 6) but many, if not most, will experience ‘eternal conscious torment’ in hell. McLaren states that this pattern is not entirely Biblical. Rather, it is a combination of the Jewish narrative to fit into a Platonic model, which he gives good support for.

McLaren moves forward into a section he calls “Setting the Stage for Biblical Narrative.” He suggests a forward-looking approach to the story of Jesus, rather than a backward-looking approach through the lenses of church leaders such as Aquinas, Luther, Wesley, Billy Graham, etc. The Biblical narrative begins in Genesis with a “good” Eden, rather than the “perfect” creation inspired by Plato (see The Story We Find Ourselves In). The story follows the ups and downs of the humanity, and God’s continual interaction for the good of His people. A new paradigm comes along when Abram is called to become a notion to bless all the nations, as a culmination of all that has occurred thus far.

The story progresses into Exodus where McLaren states “the (second) narrative situates us in humanity’s oppressive, resistant world in which God is active as liberator – freeing us from external and internal oppression and forming us as the people of God”. The narrative moves forward to a “promised time” - a day of the Lord, “when oppressors will be overthrown, when corruption and infidelity will be replaced by virtue and integrity, and when blessing, justice, and shalom of God flow like a river and fill the earth as waters fill the oceans.”

Here one needs to “proceed with caution”- understanding that McLaren’s passion for social transformation, social justice, etc. might give the impression that he is solely seeking for changes in society; Likewise my passions might seem to advocate missions as the only way to change our world, so grace is given. McLaren cites passages from the Old Testament extensively as to illustrate that it is God’s liberated people who are to change the world for the better. He makes it clear enough here that the vision of social transformation, of a peaceable kingdom, is given to the people of God, and intended not as a certain historical outcome, rather a guiding principle – ‘an unquenchable dream that inspires us to unceasing constructive action’.

McLaren’s “overarching” story seems to omit the person of Jesus… Since question four is dedicated to Jesus I will withhold criticism until then.

A new kind of Christianity???

OK, so I’ve finally cracked Brian McLaren’s newest book, A New Kind of Christianity – Ten Questions That Are Transforming the Faith. I’ve had the pleasure of reading about half a dozen of his previous works and expect that his latest entry will cause me to think, as his others have. Off hand I can remember reading A New Kind of Christian, which encouraged me to look at the larger picture and also gave me a great picture of what a healthy mentoring relationship can look like. The Story We Find Ourselves In helped me to look at the whole story of scripture- I found it very encouraging. The Last Word and the Word After That caused me to think in ways that I have never done so before. After reading A Generous Orthodoxy I found myself not so critical of those who believe and practice their faith a little bit differently than I did. I read The Church on the Other Side about seven or eight years after it was published (1998), so nothing said was really new to me (no fault of the author’s).

Yes, McLaren has more than his share of critics; I saw a Facebook post last week from a critic calling the book “an old kind of heresy”-but that discussion is for another day. My theological training (Southern Baptist) is conservative, but my bent is to be a “doer” first and a to spend hours in deep study second-so I will try to read and report the text carefully and not “be driven by every wind of doctrine…”

The ten questions that McLaren claims are transforming the faith are ones that keep coming up in his conversations with leaders across denominations and around the world. They are:

1. The narrative question: What is the overarching story of the Bible?

2. The authority question: How should the Bible be understood?

3. The God question: Is God violent?

4. The Jesus question: Who is Jesus and why is he important?

5. The gospel question: What is the gospel?

6. The church question: What do we do about the church?

7. The sex question: Can we find a way to address human sexuality without fighting about it?

8. The future question: Can we find a better way of viewing the future?

9. The pluralism question: How should followers of Jesus relate to people of other religions?

10. The what-do-we-do-now question: How can we translate our questions into action?


These are all good questions. I’m looking forward to see how McLaren responds to them.

Taking a break from the usual...

U.S. upsets Canada, 5-3, in men's hockey

Wearing uniforms that honored the Olympic champion 1960 U.S. hockey team and deploying a lineup that included the son of a player from the 1980 "Miracle on Ice" squad, the current U.S. Olympic team made some history of its own Sunday...

USA Hockey is 2-0!

USA 6 Norway 1

VANCOUVER, B.C. - Twelve different players factored in the scoring for Team USA as the U.S. Olympic Men's Ice Hockey Team downed Norway, 6-1...

Sometimes it hurts to be a parent

Yesterday was a tough day to be a parent. Or, maybe more accurately, it was a tough day to parent. Yvonne has said more than once: “Parenting toddlers was easy.” Her comments show her wisdom. Compared to parenting teenagers, parenting toddlers is a breeze.


A real challenge to this parenting thing is that your kids really are different-the teen years provide no exception to this rule. Sure, no teenager really sees the need for a clean room, or understands why we need a somewhat organized garage… those days will come. The trick is dealing with each unique personality, in his or her 95% emotional 5% rational mind.

Yvonne and I had to come to a hard decision that we knew would not go over well. When we shared what was on our hearts and announced that significant plans had to be changed. A very emotional and painful exchange followed for the next 30 minutes. We did what we had to do. We changed what needed to be changed. Tears flowed and hearts were broken all around.


I remember a scene from the movie City Slickers where Bruno Kirby’s character, Ed, shares with fellow wannabe cowboys Mitch and Phil about his best day as a man:

Ed: I'm 14 and my mother and father are fighting again... y'know, because she caught him again. Caught him... This time the girl drove by the house to pick him up. And I finally realized, he wasn't just cheating on my mother, he was cheating us. So I told him, I said, "You're bad to us. We don't love you. I'll take care of my mother and my sister. We don't need you any more." And he made like he was gonna hit me, but I didn't budge. And he turned around and he left. He never bothered us again. Well, I took care of my mother and my sister from that day on. That's my best day.

Phil: What was you're worst day?

Ed: Same day.

I feel very much about yesterday like Ed felt about his day. We did what we needed to do as parents, we made the right decision, but the pain of the whole thing still clouds my day today. As a parent it was a very good day… it also was a bad day.


A few weeks ago I quoted Biola prof Tim Muehlhoff and I will do so again today: “Our jobs as parents is not to have happy 15 year-olds, it is to raise well-adjusted 23 year-olds.”

Words to live by...

Very Interesting...

I finished reading Donald Miller’s To Own a Dragon this morning. I liked the book. It gives its readers a glimpse into the hearts and minds of the millions of “fatherless” people in our world. Miller’s father left when he was a kid, which gives him significant insight into the subject.


John Eldridge wrote that in all of the times that our earthly fathers were not there for us; our Heavenly Father was there for us. My life changed when I came to understand this truth. Donald Miller confesses that, “The feeling a person who grows up without a father is that God is disinterested.” Miller admits that he knows this is not the truth, “But there is a doubt, you know, a feeling He is somehow removed.”

Miller recounts a conversation with a friend that helped him understand that God is NOT disinterested in him. His friend told him of God’s hesed, His “loyal love”. The friend also explained to Miller how God delights in the prayers of his people. “So, God isn’t disinterested?” asked Miller. “Not at all" his friend replied, "Not with the God of Scripture, Don.”

A Great Example for Me to Follow

Today my “Gramps”, Harry Miller, would have been 100 years old. He lived to be over 90, which is the standard that I am shooting for. He was married to my Nana, Isabel Campbell, until she passed at 65 years old in 1977. About two years later he was married again, this time to Helene. They were married for about twenty years, until she passed.

One of the great life lessons Harry taught me through his actions, not by his words, was one of commitment and faithfulness. I remember the huge 40th anniversary celebration for Isabel and him at my aunt’s home. I remember seeing the pain in his face after the loss of his wife of over 40 years. Twenty more years of marriage to Helene taught me that people can make relationships work.

The true effect his example on my life can never be measured against “what ifs.” In a world where people like to think that nobody is affected by our actions, I can only speculate what would have happened had my Gramps not been faithfully married for such a long time: Would my father have stayed married to my mom for nearly 25 years, until his death? Would the same positive image of the relationship he had with my father be etched in my memory? If divorce was OK for my Gramps, how might my convictions about divorce be different than they are today?

Most of my life’s experiences with my Gramps involved golf clubs, balls, and trips to the zoo. I had no idea he was teaching me such important lessons all along.

Happy birthday Gramps.

About a father's love

This morning as I was fulfilling my fatherly duties by taking my turn as "carpool chauffer" I was doing my best to exude some form of coolness to the teenagers in my car. Significantly more often with Alyssa and her friends than I did with Jenn or Dillon and their friends, I get this feeling that the kids sitting behind me date my birth somewhere in the Jurassic period.

Today I thought I would resort to strategy number 3, by finding just the right song on the radio, one that my passengers will like, and one that I have actually heard before. I found a song that, I think, went well in proving my hipness. As we rounded the corner and the wildcat came in sight, a new song started that caught me a bit by surprise.

The familiar synthesizer of Led Zeppelin’s All My Love  filled the air inside our car as the doors opened to another day of high school. As I headed back down the hill toward home I thought about this song and its writer. In 1977 Led Zeppelin had been touring the U.S. and had just arrived to their hotel in New Orleans when Robert Plant received a call from his wife; his son was seriously ill. Two hours later, 6 year old Karac Plant died.


The song is written by Plant as a tribute to his son. The lyrics probably the most emotional found in any of the band’s songs. What I find most significant are the words Plant sings at the very end of the song, which do not appear in the posted lyrics. After plant questions life, its path, and love itself he can be heard in the background:

Sometimes, I get a bit lonely
Sometimes, I get a bit lonely


I don’t know if I am a little bit emotional about my son getting married, or just missing my dad, but this song touched me. I thought of the life and love stolen by the illness. I thought of my own children and the love that we share. I thought of the proud moments that my kids have given me, and about the moments that are right around the corner. And I thought about Plant, and the obvious struggles that he is dealing with as he writes this song.

I don’t know too many Christians with a “Whole Lotta Love” for Led Zeppelin, or its members. This song has changed my attitude about at least one band member. Robert Plant is really not too different than you or me. He’s a man faced with so many questions brought on by any parent’s worst fear.

Heading Into a New Chapter

The Saturday before last, my 22 year old son mustered up the necessary courage, and asked his sweetheart to marry him. She said yes. I instantly felt older… Despite the fact that Dillon’s fiancé is a wonderful girl and will be a great addition to our family, I am somewhat sobered about the forthcoming nuptials. I feel great joy in my heart for both of them (especially Dillon) at the same time as I find uncertainty about whether or not I have done what is necessary to prepare Dillon for his life as a husband, and ultimately, a father.


A couple of months ago Biola University prof Tim Muehlhoff was speaking at church and he said something like: “Our jobs as parents is not to have happy 15 year-olds, it is to raise well-adjusted 23 year-olds.” I think my wife and I have done a pretty good job of this with both of our adult children; my concern is about how well I have equipped him for what comes next. I feel a sense of urgency about this. The opportunities to be a positive influence to him at this stage of his life, before he becomes a lot more “hers” and significantly less “ours”, seems to be disappearing like the grains of sand in an hourglass.*


Looking back at my life and how I lived it during my twenties and thirties there are some things I wish I could re-do. By the grace of God parenting came pretty natural to both Yvonne and me.
Nevertheless, because one makes good choices in one area of life that does not guarantee that good decisions will be made in all areas of life- this is the story of my life.

I often wonder “what is the difference between someone who makes good decisions and someone who makes bad decisions.” Do some people just make good decisions, and become successful in all areas of life- and some not? Or, do those who know how to make good decisions teach that art to their children and continue a legacy of success in their families?

I hope that I have done well to teach my adult children how to make good decisions. Both Yvonne and I have been very pretty transparent with our kids about the “bad” decisions that we have made; hoping that they can see our mistakes and succeed where we have failed.


I have a little over a year until the game changes significantly, I hope that I can make the best of what little time I have.




* The one thousand miles between us does not help either.

Elaphant Musth Cycle

I found this cool video which gives some insight into what I said in my last post about the musth cycle in elephants and how it relates to humans. I hope you enjoy it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huGxU7cjI4A

I'm 45 and I still need my dad... (continued)

In To Own a Dragon Donald Miller recounts the time he learned about musth, a periodic condition in bull elephants, characterized by highly aggressive behavior. The way I remember Miller telling it is that at this point in the young elephant’s life he is usually befriended by an older male elephant. During the musth cycle, the senior elephant takes time to teach the younger elephant the “ropes” of all things adult elephant from foraging for food to wooing women.

One popular website says this about musth: Musth is linked to sexual arousal or establishing dominance, but this relationship is far from clear. Cases of elephants goring and killing rhinoceroses in national parks in Africa have been documented and attributed to musth in young male elephants, especially those growing in the absence of older males.

It is worth noting that when these young male elephants do not have the influence of an older male that the potential of him going nuts increases incredibly.

So, what does this have to do with me now? What does this have to do with a 45 year old still needing his dad? Well, my dad died when I was eighteen years old - about the equivalent of when a young male elephant enters musth. And, like the elephants that went crazy and killed rhinos, I was once a young male with more questions than answers and more frustrations than I had the ability to deal with in a healthy way. What I needed was my father’s ear and advice, but lost that and more much too soon.

And now, as I am in my mid-forties, I seem to discover on a regular basis the positive impact a father can have on his adult age son. When I was young my dad did show me how to start the mower without hurting myself, how to use a stick-shift, the best way to wash a car, and what good golf course etiquette is.

But, it was the stuff that comes after that I so sorely missed. Not once did I get the college age lesson from dad asking “how are you going to afford that?” As a new husband I never had the opportunity to call him to enquire about this new creature I was living with. When I became a dad I didn’t get the chance ask him about balancing work, church, and home. And now that I am a parent of adult children, I sense that I am “winging it” because I never got to see my dad relate to me or my siblings as adults.

In short, I missed out on a whole lot. And I am less than I could have been.

more thoughts to come…

I'm 45 and I still need my dad...

Is it merely coincidence, divine interaction, or a subconscious ploy of my own that I am currently reading To Own a Dragon, by Donald Miller, while I have been taking Adolescent Development and now Adult Development in school?

My college of choice for my Human Development degree is Hope International University, which to this point has done a pretty good job at integrating the values found within the Christian faith in the classes I have taken. Nevertheless, because of accrediting issues or few choices for texts, the majority of our reading material comes from a secular humanist perspective. Last spring I took a class called Social Problems, which mostly blamed the U.S. Government and white men (not necessarily in that order) for all of the problems found in our society today.

One quote that caught my eye in the text was one that said that kids who grow up without a father in the home do just as well as kids who grow up in two parent households. I do not remember what data that the authors cited to come to their conclusions, but I wonder if the authors have lived the experience that they claim is not so bad for the kids.

Over the past few years I have become aware of just how important a father is in the life of his children-leading me to conclusions that are quite divergent from those of the published “experts” that I, and thousands of others, have been taught in class.

I lost my father to cancer when I was eighteen and a half years old, and only in recent months have realized how much that loss affected me as a young adult. I had moved out of our family’s home just a few months prior to his death, and by conventional wisdom his responsibility to me was finished. I was a legal adult, and had moved away to a new city; I was practically on my own. However, there is no way that I could measure the negative impact of not having my dad around all these years has had on me.

Today I am thinking about a family we know with a struggling single mother, trying to raise her kids on her own. Her kids are passing classes in school, which would support the claims of the authors mentioned above. What cannot be measured is the inside stuff that goes on and cannot be found on a graph or spreadsheet: the guilt feelings inside a mother that come from a life of financial struggles; the disrespect that comes because the mom has been too soft on the kids for too many years; the depression that comes from doing it all by herself; the lack of a father to be an example to a son of how a man should love his wife; there is so much more.

Donald Miller tells of the time when his mother was the only female father in his Boy Scout troop. He remembers the embarrassment and awkwardness of having his landlord’s son stand-in as his “dad” during a campout…

more coming...