This is Dwight typing this one.
I am a standup comic-until a few nights ago-an amateur standup comic in my spare time. It's a hobby that's linked to my childhood antics of being the youngest and the entertainment portion of the family program.
I remain a novice-but I have now been paid to perform. I've gotten $50.00 here and there after a show-$30.00 a time or two. The other night I made a couple of hundred dollars doing what I love-making people laugh. It felt great. Now I am a professional comic-but not yet a working comic-working comics book paying gigs consistently and there is a process which seems to be infallible in terms of becoming a working comic.
You perform at lots of open mic events, pro-am nights, shows for which you do not get paid-and you usually get 5-8 minutes at a time. It isn't an easy thing. But if you love it-you do it. Typically after some time-if the club deems you worthy then you are able to work as an Emcee-sometimes getting paid sometimes not. Then you become a feature performer-a true opening act-and you are then considered a working comic. You open for bigger names than you-and you travel places to do it-often getting very little money. Then after time-and developing a fan base-the hope is that you are the headliner-the main attraction. This happens for some-and doesn't for others.
So me setting up my own show was a way to get to headline-without actually doing anything to have "earned" it-other than writing 45 minutes of material-and having a group of loyal folks who like to hear a preacher say funny things that can't be said in the pulpit. That is my confession.
The show was at Wiley's Comedy Club in Dayton Ohio on a Thursday night. I gathered five comics together to perform clean (not an easy task in itself). I had a working comic who was willing to emcee and three others besides myself. We performed well.
My reason to rejoice is that the show I produced went very well. Not perhaps by big name standards-but along with the other comics (primarily Richard Hiltibran) we were able to bring in 80 folks to see the show-and earned money for all the comics, and for the club owner. Two very good things. What is better is that we had a great deal of fun in the process.
I was at my best-more confident and comfortable on stage than ever before-home town crowd aside-I was FUNNY.
At this point I have to determine if standup is something to pursue further-or as only a part of what I hope ends up being a successful venture into writing a book, or books, or humorous columns. Why? You may be asking as you read this not so funny blog. Well because I have something to say-just like everyone else-and I feel that my story, who I am, is worth sharing. Furthermore I hope that by sharing who I am that I can help others to be more fully who they are.
God created us each to be someone-an authentic true self that is able to love and be loved. I pray that through the comedy I perform on stage that the message of God's love is included in such a way that it surprises people-like "Oh yeah-this guy's a preacher".
My act is limited now-and I have to write material not related to being a pastor-still clean-but more about other elements of who I am.
I want to encourage you-to find what your story is-and to share it with others. That's relationship-and that is why God created us to love and be loved-in order that through human connection with one another that we will find the holy. When we have relationship with God-it is a transformative relationship that empowers us to engage in healthy relationships with others. I pray that you find ways of connecting both with God, and also with others, and of course with yourself. Only when we are living into the person God created us to be-can we be happy.
So even if its not a comedy show-find that note within you that resonates and demands to be sung-how was that for a mixed metaphor right in the middle of a sentence? Find your comedy show-find the joke you have to tell-the story, the song-whatever it is within you that is longing to get out-in whatever form you desire-and let the world know. It's liberating.
Remember how much you are loved-and how God is calling you from where you are to where you can be.
Grace and peace to you and yours,
Dwight
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
The "eL" Word
The local public transit train here in Chicago is called the "eL" as in "elevated" from the road-it runs above ground-and off of the ground instead of underground like subways.
I got a five day pass for public transportation while I'm here so I can ride the train and buses as much as I'd like for five days. It is interesting to ride the train in Chicago.
I rode today from downtown Chicago on Merchant Mart Plaza to University and 55th Street. The ride was only one transfer and then a walk to a bus. I was going to visit McCormick Theological Seminary where I'm determining whether to attend for my Doctor of Ministry degree.
The financial divide between the North Side and South Side of Chicago is visible as you ride the train. The homes decline in appearance and the people on the trains have something in common even if it isn't skin color-its what appears to be a lack of hope-or vitality. I'm sure I was projecting this onto folks-but many either out of habit of protection in a larger city or maybe just not having slept the night before sat with blank stares and seemed sad.
I tell you the neighborhood we arrived in when I got off of the train at Garfield was straight off the set of an episode of Shaft in the seventies. There was a male prostitute wearing a bright new Chicago Cubs jacket who solicited the guy walking across the road just in front of me.
There was a woman who smelled heavily of rum or some strong liquor. She stumbled up to each one of us waiting on the bus at Garfield and asked us if we could give her money for a loaf of bread. I felt so sad for her. If I hadn't been so uncertain about catching the bus on time I would have gone into a store and bought her a sandwich-but I'm pretty sure she didn't really want the bread. And she didn't appear gaunt or underfed-she probably weighed about what I do-over 250. So at least I know she isn't starving.
Then I got on the bus and made it to the campus. The staff was very friendly and I understand that Barak Obama's home is only two blocks from the campus. If I didn't think and hope that he's going to be in the White House I guess that would've been a selling point. I'm not certain that I can enroll in a D.Min. program any time soon though with my parents so far gone.
I think maybe if all of us privileged folks were made to live in Harlem in Chicago or in New York or the Tenderloin in San Franscisco etc. that we would find a way to address poverty. Better yet-congress and these corporate CEOs should be forced to spend their terms in the projects they fund in D.C. so that they can understand that government assistance is not a ticket to wealth and fame.
I got a five day pass for public transportation while I'm here so I can ride the train and buses as much as I'd like for five days. It is interesting to ride the train in Chicago.
I rode today from downtown Chicago on Merchant Mart Plaza to University and 55th Street. The ride was only one transfer and then a walk to a bus. I was going to visit McCormick Theological Seminary where I'm determining whether to attend for my Doctor of Ministry degree.
The financial divide between the North Side and South Side of Chicago is visible as you ride the train. The homes decline in appearance and the people on the trains have something in common even if it isn't skin color-its what appears to be a lack of hope-or vitality. I'm sure I was projecting this onto folks-but many either out of habit of protection in a larger city or maybe just not having slept the night before sat with blank stares and seemed sad.
I tell you the neighborhood we arrived in when I got off of the train at Garfield was straight off the set of an episode of Shaft in the seventies. There was a male prostitute wearing a bright new Chicago Cubs jacket who solicited the guy walking across the road just in front of me.
There was a woman who smelled heavily of rum or some strong liquor. She stumbled up to each one of us waiting on the bus at Garfield and asked us if we could give her money for a loaf of bread. I felt so sad for her. If I hadn't been so uncertain about catching the bus on time I would have gone into a store and bought her a sandwich-but I'm pretty sure she didn't really want the bread. And she didn't appear gaunt or underfed-she probably weighed about what I do-over 250. So at least I know she isn't starving.
Then I got on the bus and made it to the campus. The staff was very friendly and I understand that Barak Obama's home is only two blocks from the campus. If I didn't think and hope that he's going to be in the White House I guess that would've been a selling point. I'm not certain that I can enroll in a D.Min. program any time soon though with my parents so far gone.
I think maybe if all of us privileged folks were made to live in Harlem in Chicago or in New York or the Tenderloin in San Franscisco etc. that we would find a way to address poverty. Better yet-congress and these corporate CEOs should be forced to spend their terms in the projects they fund in D.C. so that they can understand that government assistance is not a ticket to wealth and fame.
I am continually amazed at how many people are not just apathetic about the poor in our nation-but have palpable CONTEMPT for people living in poverty as though living on food stamps and getting a check from the government supports a lavish lifestyle. I read a bumper sticker that said something like "Work harder-people on welfare need your money". Such a complete lack of insight into the real issue of structural and cultural imbalance of wealth. Hating the poor for getting "welfare" is sort of like hating children for having to eat. Can you imagine anyone going up to a child when they're hungry and saying "Why don't you get a job and quit being lazy". Public assistance is not an indication of personality type-it may be linked in some cases-but in general the problem isn't the person receiving help from the government-its the system that creates such enormous poverty in the first place and doesn't provide a means of getting out of poverty into a financially soluble situation.
I don't mean to say that all folks who are poor are good and virtuous people and pat them on the head "Awww I feel so sorry for you poor folks. At least you've got your faith and your high standards". That's garbage.
Nor do I want to imply that those with wealth are all full of venom or virtue.
I just want to say that our system is so broken-our economic system and our social system-it's SO broken that I know only God can redeem us. It is easier for me to see when I am outside of my typical context because the differences are maginfied and multiplied. The wealthy are wealthier than ever-and the poor are poorer than ever-when you see the difference in a tangible way on a railway car over the course of three stops-it is difficult to ignore.
I pray that God gives me insight into how I might be part of the catalyst for change in Springfield where I am and in ways that go beyond my community as well. I have to start with me though-"elevate" my thinking if you will. Elevate my expectation of hope not only in my life and context-but in the lives of others by the Grace of God. It is my prayer that as Christians we can be agents of change and healing in a stagnant and wounded reality that is human existence.
God lift us up from the miry pit and place our feet on solid ground each day-every day fill us with your LOVE.
Thank you Jesus.
Amen.
Dwight
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Dirty Laundry Confessions
I think I want to hire an organization agent-or maybe a clutter consultant. Our home is full of clutter. Every single room.
If you were to come into our home you might exclaim "OH MY GOD! YOU'VE BEEN ROBBED!" Nope-that's just how we keep things most of the time.
Our kitchen looks disgusting, smells bad, our bedrooms are all strewn with clothing on the floor, on the beds, under the beds, a mixture of clean and dirty. We will even have clothing that is clean and dirty on the floor until we don't know what's clean and what's dirty and so we just throw it down the laundry chute to the basement to be washed again-and begin the process all over again.
It comes down to having too much and a lack of time management. We are obscenely wealthy in terms of possessions-this I mean in comparison with most of the world not compared to say the Hilton family, or even the richest people in Springfield OH.
I bet we could clothe, provide toys and books, and perhaps even feed an entire preschool and kindergarten class without straining the resources of what is currently in our home at this very moment. In fact if you looked through some of the piles in our house I bet you might even find some of the children whose faces they used to put on milk cartons. Do they even have milk cartons any more? Where do you put a picture of a missing milk carton?
This of course is all partly because my wife and I work full time. Sarah works theoretically 37 hours a week. Rarely does she work less than 40 now. Which is good for the bank account-lousy for our house. Not that she cleans. Sarah and I both are identical in our behavior when it comes to house cleaning-but from vastly different backgrounds.
Sarah's mother is a pack rat and Sarah has followed suit. I mentioned throwing out a futon that is downstairs in our basement and she said "Oh I don't know we just need a new mattress for it"-this is a piece of furniture we stored for her brother for four years now. She has never sat on it or used it to my knowledge more than once. Her brother has never asked for again-and we don't use it for anything but a dumping ground for guess what? More stuff.
I on the other hand come from a mother who would wipe crumbs off of the floor immediately after they'd fallen from whatever you happened to be eating at the time. We were encouraged to eat food over the sink or use a plate-even for a single cookie. This of course hearkens back to the old days I used to eat a single cookie.
My mom was so bad that if you put a glass down while you were still in the midst of finishing the drink often when you went to pick it back up the glass would already be in the dishwasher or the sink to be washed. It was sort of like the Flash in the comic strips only instead of running fast to prevent criminal activity it was a super fast obsessive compulsive cleaner. What would would her superhero name be? How about instead of the Swiffer-the SWIFTER!
So rather than conform to this extreme I chose to go the opposite route. I clean in spurts of extreme exertion a few times a month rather than in small steps.
So the ongoing result is that our house resembles a tornado stricken land fill or garbage barge. I'm being too mild about it to use such language. Compare the way of trying to describe it to the way in which we attempt to describe God. We can't contain God no matter how many words we use to describe God-so the best approach is to use as many words as possible to describe God-then we can approach at least a BIT more closely to grasping the great vastness that is the Creator of the Universe who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
The same is true when attempting to describe our mess at home. Words also cannot contain the extent to which our home is a depository for clutter. It obviously doesn't bother me or I'd take steps to change it-and I have-it's just that breaking up with those bad habits is hard to do.
I've had to change to make the mornings a bit easier. Without SOME sense of order the morning is longer. You find yourself unable to find two matching socks for two different little girls, or the other shoe to the pair, or the lunchbox, or keys, or book bag, or homework or library book. Then after spending all that time to get ready I end up driving faster than most Nascar professionals to reach the school on time. Then I rush back home and repeat the process for my getting ready for the day.
It feels sort of like a roller coaster that lasts for forty minutes only its not fun and there are no photos you can buy afterward. I do feel nauseous afterward though. So I declare that I will change and that I can choose to change.
If I don't choose to do so then maybe I should stand in line for an hour before I get ready for the day, have Sarah charge me ten dollars for breakfast so I could get the whole amusement park feel. Who knows?
All I know is that if we don't organize something soon-the inner obsessive compulsive whose voice I've quieted for nine years of marriage is going to burst out of my chest and begin cleaning. By then it will be too late-I will begin to clean and not stop until our home is empty of nearly all worldly possessions and clutter. Then I may actually begin sweeping our yard with a vacuum. It won't be pretty.
I hope you found it within yourself to be able to laugh at my pain....sniff...sniff...;-)
Gotta go now I think I see a foot poking out from behind a pile of towels in the corner. I can only pray its not too late for this one.
Dwight
If you were to come into our home you might exclaim "OH MY GOD! YOU'VE BEEN ROBBED!" Nope-that's just how we keep things most of the time.
Our kitchen looks disgusting, smells bad, our bedrooms are all strewn with clothing on the floor, on the beds, under the beds, a mixture of clean and dirty. We will even have clothing that is clean and dirty on the floor until we don't know what's clean and what's dirty and so we just throw it down the laundry chute to the basement to be washed again-and begin the process all over again.
It comes down to having too much and a lack of time management. We are obscenely wealthy in terms of possessions-this I mean in comparison with most of the world not compared to say the Hilton family, or even the richest people in Springfield OH.
I bet we could clothe, provide toys and books, and perhaps even feed an entire preschool and kindergarten class without straining the resources of what is currently in our home at this very moment. In fact if you looked through some of the piles in our house I bet you might even find some of the children whose faces they used to put on milk cartons. Do they even have milk cartons any more? Where do you put a picture of a missing milk carton?
This of course is all partly because my wife and I work full time. Sarah works theoretically 37 hours a week. Rarely does she work less than 40 now. Which is good for the bank account-lousy for our house. Not that she cleans. Sarah and I both are identical in our behavior when it comes to house cleaning-but from vastly different backgrounds.
Sarah's mother is a pack rat and Sarah has followed suit. I mentioned throwing out a futon that is downstairs in our basement and she said "Oh I don't know we just need a new mattress for it"-this is a piece of furniture we stored for her brother for four years now. She has never sat on it or used it to my knowledge more than once. Her brother has never asked for again-and we don't use it for anything but a dumping ground for guess what? More stuff.
I on the other hand come from a mother who would wipe crumbs off of the floor immediately after they'd fallen from whatever you happened to be eating at the time. We were encouraged to eat food over the sink or use a plate-even for a single cookie. This of course hearkens back to the old days I used to eat a single cookie.
My mom was so bad that if you put a glass down while you were still in the midst of finishing the drink often when you went to pick it back up the glass would already be in the dishwasher or the sink to be washed. It was sort of like the Flash in the comic strips only instead of running fast to prevent criminal activity it was a super fast obsessive compulsive cleaner. What would would her superhero name be? How about instead of the Swiffer-the SWIFTER!
So rather than conform to this extreme I chose to go the opposite route. I clean in spurts of extreme exertion a few times a month rather than in small steps.
So the ongoing result is that our house resembles a tornado stricken land fill or garbage barge. I'm being too mild about it to use such language. Compare the way of trying to describe it to the way in which we attempt to describe God. We can't contain God no matter how many words we use to describe God-so the best approach is to use as many words as possible to describe God-then we can approach at least a BIT more closely to grasping the great vastness that is the Creator of the Universe who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
The same is true when attempting to describe our mess at home. Words also cannot contain the extent to which our home is a depository for clutter. It obviously doesn't bother me or I'd take steps to change it-and I have-it's just that breaking up with those bad habits is hard to do.
I've had to change to make the mornings a bit easier. Without SOME sense of order the morning is longer. You find yourself unable to find two matching socks for two different little girls, or the other shoe to the pair, or the lunchbox, or keys, or book bag, or homework or library book. Then after spending all that time to get ready I end up driving faster than most Nascar professionals to reach the school on time. Then I rush back home and repeat the process for my getting ready for the day.
It feels sort of like a roller coaster that lasts for forty minutes only its not fun and there are no photos you can buy afterward. I do feel nauseous afterward though. So I declare that I will change and that I can choose to change.
If I don't choose to do so then maybe I should stand in line for an hour before I get ready for the day, have Sarah charge me ten dollars for breakfast so I could get the whole amusement park feel. Who knows?
All I know is that if we don't organize something soon-the inner obsessive compulsive whose voice I've quieted for nine years of marriage is going to burst out of my chest and begin cleaning. By then it will be too late-I will begin to clean and not stop until our home is empty of nearly all worldly possessions and clutter. Then I may actually begin sweeping our yard with a vacuum. It won't be pretty.
I hope you found it within yourself to be able to laugh at my pain....sniff...sniff...;-)
Gotta go now I think I see a foot poking out from behind a pile of towels in the corner. I can only pray its not too late for this one.
Dwight
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Fantasy Sports
Hey there. Fantasy football time here in the United States of America.
It's time when all of us who like numbers on a screen indicating performance on a field of play can match our skill at choosing who is going to have the highest numerical value each Sunday and why that makes us have value as human beings.
Cynical way of looking at it. I enjoy fantasy football-sometimes baseball too.
In case you are not familiar with Fantasy sports it is when you field an imaginary team of athletes from the particular sport and place them on your imaginary roster. Then you keep track of their real life statistics during a specific game to come up with your "team" score. It is your fantasy team-hand chosen-to produce the best set of stats you can-to outscore your opponent for that week-who also has fielded a team.
It is because I have a fantasy football team that I can honestly say that I have imaginary friends.
I was thinking how it would be amusing to have fantasy Bible study. Choose biblical characters and score them according to their accomplishments vs. their sinfulness. For instance David gets negative points for having Bathsheba's husband murdered-but gets positive ones for inspiring some of the Psalms. Then we have teams made up of a prophet, two Hebrew Bible people, a disciples, and then maybe Jesus is the all time quarterback.
How many points would John the Baptist get docked for losing his head?
Would the Pharisees get penalized for their abuse of the rules?
Maybe if it was Bible fantasy study we could say a prayer before the games and all the right wingers would be happy-and we could take proceeds from the games and give them to justice projects in the area and that would make all the left wingers happy.
The concept of fantasy sports plays along with our desire to rank and rate things in the United States. Maybe because we all have some areas where we don't find self worth happens easily. And so we rank and rate so many facets of our world that it becomes the norm to judge rather than accept. This is against the basic truth of Christian faith-to love, to know we're loved, and to proclaim God's love.
Truth is our value is something given to us at birth-all of us have it-and we can choose to believe in it or not. Its there-and its infinitely more than we imagine it. Each person has value-no one more than another...although sometimes I think Jessica Alba comes close...all of us are precious in God's eyes.
No matter how we perform the Grace of God helps us be everything we are called to be.
Grace,
Dwight
It's time when all of us who like numbers on a screen indicating performance on a field of play can match our skill at choosing who is going to have the highest numerical value each Sunday and why that makes us have value as human beings.
Cynical way of looking at it. I enjoy fantasy football-sometimes baseball too.
In case you are not familiar with Fantasy sports it is when you field an imaginary team of athletes from the particular sport and place them on your imaginary roster. Then you keep track of their real life statistics during a specific game to come up with your "team" score. It is your fantasy team-hand chosen-to produce the best set of stats you can-to outscore your opponent for that week-who also has fielded a team.
It is because I have a fantasy football team that I can honestly say that I have imaginary friends.
I was thinking how it would be amusing to have fantasy Bible study. Choose biblical characters and score them according to their accomplishments vs. their sinfulness. For instance David gets negative points for having Bathsheba's husband murdered-but gets positive ones for inspiring some of the Psalms. Then we have teams made up of a prophet, two Hebrew Bible people, a disciples, and then maybe Jesus is the all time quarterback.
How many points would John the Baptist get docked for losing his head?
Would the Pharisees get penalized for their abuse of the rules?
Maybe if it was Bible fantasy study we could say a prayer before the games and all the right wingers would be happy-and we could take proceeds from the games and give them to justice projects in the area and that would make all the left wingers happy.
The concept of fantasy sports plays along with our desire to rank and rate things in the United States. Maybe because we all have some areas where we don't find self worth happens easily. And so we rank and rate so many facets of our world that it becomes the norm to judge rather than accept. This is against the basic truth of Christian faith-to love, to know we're loved, and to proclaim God's love.
Truth is our value is something given to us at birth-all of us have it-and we can choose to believe in it or not. Its there-and its infinitely more than we imagine it. Each person has value-no one more than another...although sometimes I think Jessica Alba comes close...all of us are precious in God's eyes.
No matter how we perform the Grace of God helps us be everything we are called to be.
Grace,
Dwight
The Jinx
Hey folks. I want to promote a book of one of my pastor friends.
Her name is Jennifer Johnson. She has just had her first book released. It's called The Jinx. It is a humorous and romantic tale of two people who even a case of bad luck couldn't keep apart.
Her book is a page turner and is available to download at http://www.thewildrosepress.com/
It's a bargain at $6.00 American and you can even use your Paypal account to download it.
Hurry to be in on the beginning of a promising writer's career. Enjoy!
Grace to you and yours,
Dwight
Her name is Jennifer Johnson. She has just had her first book released. It's called The Jinx. It is a humorous and romantic tale of two people who even a case of bad luck couldn't keep apart.
Her book is a page turner and is available to download at http://www.thewildrosepress.com/
It's a bargain at $6.00 American and you can even use your Paypal account to download it.
Hurry to be in on the beginning of a promising writer's career. Enjoy!
Grace to you and yours,
Dwight
Monday, August 18, 2008
On labels
I was discussing recently the difficulty we have with labels-not on clipping them from Del Monte cans and handing them in so your school that's poor from spending money on sports can buy books instead of raising taxes on people who are already well off-but still don't want to pay taxes any higher than they did in the '60s.
I'm talking about the labels we apply to folks in general. Liberal and Conservative. Christian, progressive, or fundamentalist. There is actually no way to avoid labeling to some extent. If we didn't we'd all be stuck using general and neutral pronouns.
Excuse me person? Could you hand me that thing with the stuff on it?
"This?" no
"That" no.
the thing with the color on it that's darker than the color of your eyes or the thing with the stuff on it the color of your skin but darker? No-the thing with the thing that's sitting on that other thing.
It quickly would become an exercise in futility and vagueness.
What can be frustrating though is the vast differences and nuances of opinion that exist in each individual and the attempt to try and place one person or the other in a particular category. This of course is what helps us define people but it can erode the sense of complexity that makes up individuals as well.
I long for a day like Dr. Martin Luther King spoke of when "we'd one day be judged not by the color of our skin (or any sort of label in particular), but on the content of our character".
It seems like a happy possibility to not be categorized as a lover of Rush Linbaugh or a lover of Keith Olberman-or maybe Bill O' Reilly vs. Al Franken. The truth is we're a huge amalgam of opinions, influences, circumstances, and convictions. To categorize anyone is to simplify people and the human experience so that we can be less anxious about reality.
Our anxiety comes from self consciousness-self awareness and the understanding that we can't figure everything out-and that there is randomness and insignificance as well as meaning and relationship that makes up our reality. But we can't wrap it up in a neat package for marketing it can make us antsy. If I can't buy it at Wal-Mart Dwight, I just don't trust it.
It reminds me of the phrase from the movie Pleasantville where everyone who is frightened about the change that is taking place all over the town say something to the effect of "Where do you go when everything around you is changing and the world seems so uncertain? The bowling alley of course".
People can certainly lean one way or the other in terms of political, religious, and all other viewpoints and character traits. But sometimes the idiosyncrasies and contradictions within our selves or that we observe in others is dumbfounding.
I know of a lesbian couple who attended a church that was against homosexuality. They did so because they didn't want to attend a church that while supportive of homosexual people had a woman minister. DOH!
That's like an NRA member that can't find it within himself to quit his knitting group even though his friends think its gay.
We're all so different-it makes us have to come up with labels to manage it all sometimes-so I respect that. I just ask "Where then is the middle ground?" Where can we find a place to accurately describe people, or realities without limiting the person or reality to that specific label? The bowling alley.
I don't know and I don't think we're supposed to know. I think that probably the process of learning about people and relationships is a lot more important than the arrival or the destination. That's not a particularly original concept-but it holds true in many instances. Along the way I think we're invited to make sure we laugh, love, and whatever third thing you can add here to make it a complete statement.
What is it that he poster says "Dance like no one is watching-even though you look like a dork, laugh as thought people around you aren't frightened by your boisterous and close to maniacal look and sound, and love like you aren't going to be issued a restraining order.
I hope you can label yourself as one who laughed at the end of today and each day.
Grace,
Dwight
I'm talking about the labels we apply to folks in general. Liberal and Conservative. Christian, progressive, or fundamentalist. There is actually no way to avoid labeling to some extent. If we didn't we'd all be stuck using general and neutral pronouns.
Excuse me person? Could you hand me that thing with the stuff on it?
"This?" no
"That" no.
the thing with the color on it that's darker than the color of your eyes or the thing with the stuff on it the color of your skin but darker? No-the thing with the thing that's sitting on that other thing.
It quickly would become an exercise in futility and vagueness.
What can be frustrating though is the vast differences and nuances of opinion that exist in each individual and the attempt to try and place one person or the other in a particular category. This of course is what helps us define people but it can erode the sense of complexity that makes up individuals as well.
I long for a day like Dr. Martin Luther King spoke of when "we'd one day be judged not by the color of our skin (or any sort of label in particular), but on the content of our character".
It seems like a happy possibility to not be categorized as a lover of Rush Linbaugh or a lover of Keith Olberman-or maybe Bill O' Reilly vs. Al Franken. The truth is we're a huge amalgam of opinions, influences, circumstances, and convictions. To categorize anyone is to simplify people and the human experience so that we can be less anxious about reality.
Our anxiety comes from self consciousness-self awareness and the understanding that we can't figure everything out-and that there is randomness and insignificance as well as meaning and relationship that makes up our reality. But we can't wrap it up in a neat package for marketing it can make us antsy. If I can't buy it at Wal-Mart Dwight, I just don't trust it.
It reminds me of the phrase from the movie Pleasantville where everyone who is frightened about the change that is taking place all over the town say something to the effect of "Where do you go when everything around you is changing and the world seems so uncertain? The bowling alley of course".
People can certainly lean one way or the other in terms of political, religious, and all other viewpoints and character traits. But sometimes the idiosyncrasies and contradictions within our selves or that we observe in others is dumbfounding.
I know of a lesbian couple who attended a church that was against homosexuality. They did so because they didn't want to attend a church that while supportive of homosexual people had a woman minister. DOH!
That's like an NRA member that can't find it within himself to quit his knitting group even though his friends think its gay.
We're all so different-it makes us have to come up with labels to manage it all sometimes-so I respect that. I just ask "Where then is the middle ground?" Where can we find a place to accurately describe people, or realities without limiting the person or reality to that specific label? The bowling alley.
I don't know and I don't think we're supposed to know. I think that probably the process of learning about people and relationships is a lot more important than the arrival or the destination. That's not a particularly original concept-but it holds true in many instances. Along the way I think we're invited to make sure we laugh, love, and whatever third thing you can add here to make it a complete statement.
What is it that he poster says "Dance like no one is watching-even though you look like a dork, laugh as thought people around you aren't frightened by your boisterous and close to maniacal look and sound, and love like you aren't going to be issued a restraining order.
I hope you can label yourself as one who laughed at the end of today and each day.
Grace,
Dwight
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Down time
Tomorrow my sermon is about Sabbath.
Perhaps one of my more hypocritical sermons because one would hope that when a preacher delivers a message that it at least has a grounding in the faith practices of the one who is doing the preaching. In short I could be doing better at Sabbath observance.
I've learned more about Sabbath from the time I was leaving seminary to the present. I do remember some things about Sabbath when I was a child. I remember my parents complained that the pharmacy WASN'T open on Sundays because of the blue laws (for those under 38 that's when stores were required to close because Sunday was "The Lord's Day"-this of course assumes that all days aren't the Lord's and that Sunday itself was actually the true Sabbath).
Seventh Day Adventists have Saturday as the Sabbath, as does the Jewish Faith Tradition. We Christians observe Sunday as the Sabbath-sort of. I know preachers who wouldn't cut their grass on Sunday-not because they wanted to spend more time honoring God-but because it seemed more righteous to live by the letter of the law rather than the Spirit of the law "Remeber the Sabbath Day and Keep it holy." being one of the top ten commandments NOT written by a team of writers working for Letterman.
They also encouraged people not to shop on Sundays-because in so doing-they were supporting the sin of those having to work on the Sabbath.
Orthodox Judaism observes Sabbath from the sunset of Friday through the Sunset of Saturday evening-and they take it to heart-letter of the law not to do any work or activity that is not completely necessary (see Leviticus for a list of things you can do on the Sabbath like "get your ass out of a ditch"-meaning your wild beast not coloquial for your own hind quarters).
But what I've learned-or think I've learned is that Sabbath isn't a set day-it's actually a way of being. It is a state in which a person chooses consciously to disengage from all that is worry driven and laden with responsibility in order to contemplate sometimes the Holy, but sometimes just the belly button. Jesus said in response to those who criticized his disciples for picking grain on the Sabbath as breakers of the law and thus sinful people ignoring their relationship with God. Jesus tells the critics "The Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity made for the Sabbath."
So resting, spending quiet time-not necessarily prayer and Bible reading-but that can be part of it-spending time just BE-ing. Not moving necessarily, maybe counting breaths, maybe just holding on tightly to your loved ones in a hug, or smelling the flowers in your back yard, inhaling the air intentionally from a breeze-it is in short an awareness that all is not centered on you-and that you in fact are part of something-a reality much bigger than yourself-and that the world and all the planets will go on spinning even if you decide to stop and do something to care for yourself.
So perhaps the definition of Sabbath I believe is: The act of caring for oneself as a response of gratitude for the grace and love God has shown us in an active or passive way of being-happening during a set period of time-at least twenty four hours in length and having at least some connection to the awareness that there is a God and it is not you. It may require being by oneself, and also can include those who nourish and build you up and require from you only that you be your authentic self.
So I hope for my sake-and the sake of all who read this-that I am able to observe Sabbath faithfully to honor God-and to honor the gift of who I am. It is in our honoring of our authentic selves that we bring glory to God for having created us in the way that God did.
Much grace to you and yours,
Dwight
Perhaps one of my more hypocritical sermons because one would hope that when a preacher delivers a message that it at least has a grounding in the faith practices of the one who is doing the preaching. In short I could be doing better at Sabbath observance.
I've learned more about Sabbath from the time I was leaving seminary to the present. I do remember some things about Sabbath when I was a child. I remember my parents complained that the pharmacy WASN'T open on Sundays because of the blue laws (for those under 38 that's when stores were required to close because Sunday was "The Lord's Day"-this of course assumes that all days aren't the Lord's and that Sunday itself was actually the true Sabbath).
Seventh Day Adventists have Saturday as the Sabbath, as does the Jewish Faith Tradition. We Christians observe Sunday as the Sabbath-sort of. I know preachers who wouldn't cut their grass on Sunday-not because they wanted to spend more time honoring God-but because it seemed more righteous to live by the letter of the law rather than the Spirit of the law "Remeber the Sabbath Day and Keep it holy." being one of the top ten commandments NOT written by a team of writers working for Letterman.
They also encouraged people not to shop on Sundays-because in so doing-they were supporting the sin of those having to work on the Sabbath.
Orthodox Judaism observes Sabbath from the sunset of Friday through the Sunset of Saturday evening-and they take it to heart-letter of the law not to do any work or activity that is not completely necessary (see Leviticus for a list of things you can do on the Sabbath like "get your ass out of a ditch"-meaning your wild beast not coloquial for your own hind quarters).
But what I've learned-or think I've learned is that Sabbath isn't a set day-it's actually a way of being. It is a state in which a person chooses consciously to disengage from all that is worry driven and laden with responsibility in order to contemplate sometimes the Holy, but sometimes just the belly button. Jesus said in response to those who criticized his disciples for picking grain on the Sabbath as breakers of the law and thus sinful people ignoring their relationship with God. Jesus tells the critics "The Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity made for the Sabbath."
So resting, spending quiet time-not necessarily prayer and Bible reading-but that can be part of it-spending time just BE-ing. Not moving necessarily, maybe counting breaths, maybe just holding on tightly to your loved ones in a hug, or smelling the flowers in your back yard, inhaling the air intentionally from a breeze-it is in short an awareness that all is not centered on you-and that you in fact are part of something-a reality much bigger than yourself-and that the world and all the planets will go on spinning even if you decide to stop and do something to care for yourself.
So perhaps the definition of Sabbath I believe is: The act of caring for oneself as a response of gratitude for the grace and love God has shown us in an active or passive way of being-happening during a set period of time-at least twenty four hours in length and having at least some connection to the awareness that there is a God and it is not you. It may require being by oneself, and also can include those who nourish and build you up and require from you only that you be your authentic self.
So I hope for my sake-and the sake of all who read this-that I am able to observe Sabbath faithfully to honor God-and to honor the gift of who I am. It is in our honoring of our authentic selves that we bring glory to God for having created us in the way that God did.
Much grace to you and yours,
Dwight
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