Still Beachin'
Much too relaxed to blog.Last night I had a big plate of barbecued cod...calamari...clams...crab legs...and lobster. Life is good. I'll haiku when I get home. Blessings, all. God is amazing.
The Story We Find Ourselves In
The haiku contest has left many with conflicted feelings. "When will it be over," some ask. "When, oh when, Steve, will you return to your pithy ways, shining sarcastic light into our otherwise prosaic days?" Others are more straightforward: "Enough with the fershlugginer poetry already! Oy."
Well, friends, the contest is almost at an end. Round 4 was obviously too close to call. As that leaves me at a decided disadvantage going into the last round, you would think that I would be upset. Not at all. The last round prompted me to renew my acquantaince with Calvin and his little stuffed friend, all the while providing me welcome relief from having to watch my Angels drop two in a row to the hated Giants. So that ain't bad.
Round 5 will follow as soon as "timeless" provides us with the topic. The score currently stands at Wendy 2, Steve 1, with one tie. So I need a win here to force a haiku-off. I'm sure that those of you who are weary of the whole affair won't allow that to influence your vote. (C'mon, guys! Vote for me! I'm cool! I'll be your friend! I'll bake you cookies! Well, not me, but my wife!)
Meantime, in the real world, I was never more glad to get a sermon over with than on Sunday. I struggled with it pretty much start to finish and, even though nice people said nice things about it, the overwhelming emotion I felt when it was over was relief. Any of you regular preacher types ever feel that? Just a "Man, am I glad that's over and I can get back to dealing with the regular stuff" feeling?
And while I've got you on the hook, preacher-types, let me ask you another question, one which you may or may not relate to. I'm almost finished with "A New Kind of Christian" by McLaren. The "fictional" style is driving me crazy but the ideas within are heady stuff. Most of you are probably way ahead of me on the whole postmodernism deal. But I feel like most of the points are valid. I've never been mired in modernity as much as a lot of people, mostly because of the way I was raised to think. But this book rightly challenges us to live our faith in new ways, ways which many Christians find difficult if not downright offensive.
Without going into a summary of a lot of things many of you already know, let me just ask my question. How do we, as preachers, as elders, as leaders, usher people into a new kind of Christianity? Some of you may feel we shouldn't. I value your reponses too. But for those of you who struggle/have struggled with this, what have you done? How do we teach a new kind of approach to scripture...to worship...to salvation, etc...to people who aren't willing...aren't receptive...aren't ready to listen? Maybe there are no answers here, but if nothing else, I would like to start the discourse.
We are leaving Sunday for a week at the beach. I'm hoping to have a laptop connection there so that the contest and the discussion aren't interrupted for a week. But if I go all silent running for a while, you'll know why.
And finally, in the style of Paul who liked to end his letters with a whazzup and a shout out or three, I want to welcome Josh to our section of blogland and welcome Tony back. A great big "Good to have you" and "Good to see you" to those two dudes. And a "Where's Judy?" to bring things to a temporary close.
Haiku the Fourth
In a 3-2 squeaker (with a couple of "tie votes" thrown in), Wendy has won Round 3. So far everyone has held serve. Here comes a do-or-die attempt from the top of the key. (The mixing of metaphors is becoming something of a trademark here at "intentional walk".)
Topic Four: The Funny Pages
Steve's entry:
The war in Iraq?
Buying grave sites? Dagwood quits???
Man, I miss Peanuts.
Wendy's entry:
The first snowfall brought
his Snowman House of Horror.
Wait 'till Dad gets home...
Haiku the Third
Topic Three: 17-Syllable Movie Scene
Wendy's entry:
Singing Auld Lang Syne,
The Christmas tree is aglow.
Bells...an angel's wings.
Steve's entry:
Taunting King Arthur:
"Silly English knnnnnnnnnigit!"
Elderberry smell.
Be sure to check out Wendy's blog for her runners-up.
A Break in the Action
With the haiku contest standing at 1-1, Wendy and I are taking a short break to blog real blogs.
There's something that's been bugging me for a while. Has "blog" become a verb? I understand that this is a blog, or maybe a 'blog, since the term originated as a contraction of web log. But do we "post on our blogs" or do we now "blog on our blogs"?
This week has been equal parts enjoyment and frustration. I'm trying to unlock James 1: 12-18 for Sunday morning. The sermon will be about blame and temptation. I'm doing okay on the blame part. But the temptation part has me running in circles. I'm on vacation this week and I've even had the house to myself for the better parts of two whole days. And yet the sermon remains half written. Every time I try to get serious about part two, I find myself making lunch, or watching DVD extras, or, y'know, blogging. Somewhere in this mix is the fact that Sunday is both the kickoff to VBS (which means the stage will be dressed as a broken-down carnival) and Father's Day. Neither of those things have anything to do with temptation. But we speakers at College are an honest bunch. We try to deal with our topics on a personal level. I'm sure that part of the problem is that I don't really want to lay all of my temptations at the congregation's feet. "Here. That's my stuff. Ugly, isn't it?" But how do I get people absorbed in a topic that we all want to avoid? How do my temptations relate to their temptations? And how do I help others deal with stuff that I do such a lousy job with myself? It's possible that the sermon will be made up of that type of question. It's also possible that I just have too much time to think.
Speaking of which: what's this whole "crown of life" thing about? James says:
"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."
Is the crown symbolic of eternal life? Does everyone receive the same crown? Are there levels of reward in heaven and, if so, are the levels determined by the types of trial we undergo? Isn't all this sounding like a return to "saved by works" theology that we have tried so hard to get past? And why a crown? Is this more kingdom language? And finally, am I thinking too much?
At least now you see why I'm enjoying the haiku break so much.
Haiku the Second
Soundly beaten by Wendy in Round 1, I dig back into the box for my second at bat, mixing sports metaphors as I go.
Topic Two: Guitars
Steve's entry:
Sleek and curvaceous.
Fingers fall toward six taut strings.
Coaxing out her song.
Wendy's entry:
Santana can play
guitar with left or right hands -
he's a switch hitter.
Haiku the First
Topic One: Chaos Theory (the butterfly effect)
Wendy's entry:
Italian cows moo
on a hillside. Worlds away,
I hear, "buy more shooooes..."
Steve's entry:
Gossamer wings flap.
The Angels lose yet again.
Nothing else makes sense.
You may now vote at will.
Of Muffins and Cupcakes
Ever get stuck with a really bad nickname?Once in college, I zoned out in a friend's apartment, watching TV and eating cheese puffs. Before I knew it I had almost polished off a whole bag and my fingers were irredeemably orange. Somebody walked by, looked down at the sorry spectacle and said, "Hey, how's it goin' there, Puffy?" That was it. I was "Puffy" for years after that.In elementary school, I was "Little Man" for quite a while. That one didn't bother me too much. The "little" was more than offset by the "man."I say all of this in what I'm sure will prove to be a futile effort to head the whole "cupcake" thing off at the pass. If I have to be any sort of pastry treat, I choose to be a muffin. A stud muffin.Huh? No? Okay, it was worth a shot.So would anybody care to share a nickname they've carried around for any length of time? It can be one you love, one you've fostered, one that you've nurtured and cared for like a delicate house plant. Or it can be one that you tried to shake off as soon as it was given to you. For instance, my friend Kevin stated in no uncertain terms that he didn't like it when we called him "Brokeback." And always remember...no monicker is permanent. Not even the one your folks gave you. Someday they will all give way to the one that your Creator picked out for you and etched on your cosmic birth certificate."He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it."What's in a name?
Summer Time
My apologies for being a bit out of it lately. I came down with a cold last Thursday and it's been messing with me ever since. I haven't done much in the way of blogging (or haiku-ing) but that's only because two very small dwarfs have been flying a hot-air balloon around inside my skull. They're still in there, but I think I may cough them out soon.Wanna hear more about mucous-type stuff, or shall I move on?Yes, I think that would be best. I'll catch up on a few things today. School let out on Friday, but I'll be at the site for tech training all week. After this, I may have to get into a summer blog-routine. Wendy Power, not knowing any better, has challenged me to a haiku-writing contest. Out of concern for her fragile self-esteem, I have delayed this for a few days so that she can steel herself for the inevitable outcome. The delay has nothing to do with my inability to count to 5 or 7 with a head cold. You may be asked to judge and this might cause difficulties if you don't know anything about haikus. The easy solution is just to assume that my poetry is best and always vote for me. There is no hard solution. Stay tuned.Later this month, it looks as though I may have to meet my worst fear. A good friend is getting married in Long Beach and a certain stooge-loving blog-buddy has offered to put us up for the weekend. So, yes, it looks like I'm going to meet Chipper. For those of you who thought that my worst fear was listening to one of Greg's sermons, that is extremely ungracious of you. I look forward to that part of the weekend. I'm running out of material.Ah, the joys of having a AAA baseball team in town. Darin Erstad, my favorite player, is on a rehab assignment before his return to the major leagues. That means that he is currently playing for the Salt Lake Bees against the Fresno Grizzlies. So yesterday I got to drive downtown and see Ersty play. I will go again tomorrow as the reigning Cy Young winner, Bartolo Colon, starts for the Bees.Our pulpit series on James kicked off yesterday. DCB called the kids down to the front and told them a little about Jesus' half-brother. My kid started cracking up on stage; he thought he was talking about him. Every time DCB said "James", my own James would just laugh and laugh. Distracting, but in a good way. I'm looking forward to exploring the book as I think it hits the College Church at a good time. I'm especially looking forward to having a guest speaker from Switzerland come and deliver a couple of the messages.I've said it before, I'll say it again. Life moves pretty fast. Oops. Sorry. Ferris flashback. Let me start over.I've said it before, I'll say it again. This blog community has become a family. I love and appreciate all of you. You newcomers and quiet lurkers are part of that family too. Which brings me to my final thought.You may have noticed that Shane Mason (aka "Anonymous") has made some great comments recently. Shane is a great guy and he throws a great bachelor party. The kind where you don't have to worry about anyone hiring strippers or passing out in the bathroom. (It helps to invite your dad and your little brother...keeps it all on the up and up.) Great guy Shane is marrying Great gal Darla on Saturday. Wrap them up in prayer this week, would you? God is going to bless these two like crazy.
Graduation
I taught Middle School for 11 years. With apologies to my brethren and sistren who still labor in these grades, there is not a single thing I liked more about teaching at that level than about teaching High School. I enjoy the higher subject matter. I enjoy the nicer facilities (Sunnyside was brand new when I started there). I enjoy baseball games where the players aren't still learning to tag up on deep flies. But the biggest difference is the kids. No longer am I giving lessons on how to wear deodorant. No longer are my eyes darting from side to side as I walk down the hall, ready at all times to duck in case a kid should bounce off the wall and into me. No longer do the students write more notes to each other than about the assignment. Of course, freshmen are still hormonal whirlwinds, but they are growing out of it, not into it.
Graduation is a yearly reminder of how different High School is. It's the one day that you can be sure the parents will act dumber than the kids. I hereby am calling for a complete ban on air horns.
One of the benefits of teaching Calculus is getting to know most of the valedictorians. Yesterday, KCee delivered the best graduation speech I have ever heard (with the possible exception of Winston Churchill's: "Never. Never. Never...give up."). She was eloquent. Her voice rose above the screaming masses. And she actually said something. I couldn't have been prouder. KCee will be going to Stanford in the fall. They picked a good one. Someday she will rule the world.
It was an evening of tears and hugs and handshakes. Many of the kids I said goodbye to will drop by and see me from time to time. Hopefully, I will keep up through e-mails and visits. But there was a large number of kids who I will never see again. All I can do is pray for their safety, their maturity, and their futures. Pray one along with me, would you?
God bless the class of 2006.
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