Waiting for Klosterman

I have a short list of authors whose books (in various genres) I would buy soon after release, in hardcover, and possibly at regular price (but with Amazon, this is foolish).

1. Chuck Klosterman
2. Douglas Coupland
3. Bill Bryson
4. James Wellman
5. Nancy Ammerman

Klosterman makes great appearances on Bill Simmons' B.S. Report Podcast at ESPN.com. Pastors generally don't get into weddings, but I would have loved to officiate at Klosterman's wedding. He tells about the event in his October B.S. Report podcast interview. My favorite part was the music at the reception done by an ELO tribute band. That would have been AMAZING. If money was no expense, I imagine that my wife might have enjoyed an ABBA tribute band at our wedding reception, maybe someone like Bjorn Again. I'm considering taking her to one of their shows in the Puget Sound region.

I ordered Klosterman's new release Eating The Dinosaur and should cruise through it in a few days, probably wanting more, and wishing Klosterman would blog, tweet, something. He has great material, but my voracious web appetite leaves my expectations too high, thus he is able to get me to buy a hardcover copy of his book. Nice move on Chuck's part, he can get people to pay for his content, while Bill Simmons writes about stuff I can't care about anymore, the NBA. I hope he enjoys his book tour--at least he stuck up for the Seattle Sonics.

Thanks, Jeff Galloway (and my youngest brother)

Though my first half-marathon at the Super Jock n' Jill On Labor Day was no display of speed or endurance, maybe I am getting a little wiser as well as older. By following Galloway's program of walking and running, after three days I have completely recovered from the race. I am injury free, and ready to run again.

When I woke up this morning, I still felt a slight soreness from the race in my quads, but I knew I was ready for a run. I didn't feel like actually doing it, but I got out there for about 3.5 miles. To my surprise, I felt even a slight spring in my step, like I gained some strength from the race.

Thanks also to my youngest brother, who offered encouragement in training, but also bought me the Galloway Book On Running for Christmas about three years ago. I don't think I'd still be running without it--because I probably would have done something stupid and suffered an injury or given up because I would try to pile on mileage without a plan. Even though I did hit a wall, the race was enjoyable and challenging.

I'm going to look for another race at www.runningintheusa.com

Preaching for August 23, 2009

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Psalm 34:15-22
Ephesians 6:10-20
John 6:56-69

Once again, I am skipping over the bread imagery in John 6. Since a significant majority of Lutheran pastors I know preach on the Gospel lesson somewhere near 90 percent of the time or more, I'm guessing that any congregation where I preach to give a pastor a break will have already heard about Jesus and bread imagery ad nauseum.

I'm not enamored with the image of the "whole armor of God" in Ephesians, either. I understand the good connections with this imagery, like preparation and struggle for a community in the Christian life. However, I think this passage was almost ruined for me as it has been used in connection with a reason for military build up. I once associated this quote with Ronald Reagan, but I could not find a quote where he directly used this passage. It says something about how fleeting memory can be and that propeganda is subversive. Though the text has its merits, this text represents damaged goods, and I don't think I can preach it faithfully.

As a Lutheran Christian, I have a mixed relationship with this text from Joshua. The text is used as a biblical foundation for a book on marriage by Walt Wangerin. My dear wife and I read this in preparation for our marriage. Though we don't explicitly reference the Wangerin book as part of strengthening our marriage today, the book has some foundational qualities about how the depths of human existence and our relationship with God through that relationship. Our lives are formed by Christian vocation. Almost every decision we make has a relationship to Christian vocation. Therefore, I make a connection between this text and the gift of marriage. Though Joshua is not specifically speaking about marriage in this text, the practical application between God and relationships doesn't appear to be an unfaithful one. The uneasiness with the text comes from weighting the interpretation more toward the choice of Joshua than the action of God. Anyone familiar with Lutheran theology and life knows that generally speaking are uneasy with any proclamation glorifying any choice by humanity--corporate or individual, because human beings are flawed creatures, therefore human choices are fraught with peril. This doesn't mean I feel the need to beat myself down or my fellow human beings, nor do I have to live a jaded life. I am skeptical, however, about trumpeting human choice. The classic text referenced in this idea is from Jesus in John 15: "You did not choose me, but I chose you."

What is a Christian or one considering the Christian life to make of choice? Choice is a buzz word and concept in our day to day life. Think of all the topics upon which choice is debated. Abortion (pro-choice), health care (choice of coverage), war (we have a volunteer armed forces in the United States) reveal that the concept of choice is the fulcrum of many topics of public discourse. The United States economy thrives on the availability of choice. For those who want to expand choices or restrict choices--someone always ends up choosing. Where will the line be drawn for choice? Libertarians seem to thrive in this discussions. Conservatives tend to want to restrict moral choices for the sake of societal morality, liberals tend to want to restrict economic choices for the sake of societal justice. Any restrictions on choice from either end of the continuum, according to Libertarians lead to societal problems as well.

Humans really don't know what to do with choice. I remember reflecting on the philosophy of Neil Peart and his 1980 song, "Freewill". I loved the line "If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice." I didn't ponder this song so much theologically as a teenager--though I recognized it had theological ramifications, my epiphany was that my choices had consequences, and that not choosing was a choice in itself. I still ponder that idea today, and that pondering is made more cool by one of my favorite bass solos by Geddy Lee (or of any bass player) of all time.

After returning from living in Denmark for a year, I remember the shock over returning to an American retail establishment and being overwhelmed by the amount of choice. I missed having some choices while living there, but I also saw that choice can be crippling. Is choice the source of goodness in the world? I wasn't so sure.

With one more year of seminary and a new congregational ministry call, I was able to place some deeper theological context on my reflections on choice. In my first congregation in Wisconsin I realized my shallowness of knowledge in Lutheran theology by grappling with the notion of choice to the point of foolishly saying that humans really had no choice at all--an idea I quickly retracted when I realized the ramifications of that line of thinking. But I recognized that choice is tenuous--in terms of human relationship with God, Luther called this "the bondage of the will." Some people in my congregation recognized my theological grappling, and took up with me the discussion about free will and whether it exists on any level. I had one intelligent person write me a paper on his argument against Luther's "Bondage of the Will." I deeply admired the fact he respected me enough to gather his thoughts, share them with me in a coherent fashion, and valued his faith enough that this was a good investment of his time and energy.

At best I can say that choice is tenuous, and that Joshua is really stating that we need to look at the work of God in the biblical witness and our own lives and compare that work with the other paths and gods. Choice may be tenuous--but God is faithful.

Is this Gospel? If so, will it preach? Usually I know this by this point of the sermon preparation, but at this point, I am under some pressure, I have the ubiquitous sermon title to create. Even if I choose not to choose a sermon title, I still have made a choice.

On Sam Harris' book, "Letter to a Christian Nation"

I read Sam Harris' short book "Letter to a Christian Nation" because I wanted to get a feel for neo-atheist writing without having to completely delve into the entire body of work.

I initially learned the name Sam Harris through a bit of a media blitz where either Harris or Christopher Hitchens appeared in book reviews, numerous television discussions on C-Span or public television or the like, and in a feature story in one of my regular print reads, The Christian Century.

I believe that this short book is mostly driven by accessibility, because the people he most hopes will read this tome might be driven away by his work and other writers of his persuasion. Harris doesn't seem to have as much a chip on his shoulder as Hitchens in comparing my exposure to each on television and what little I have read of or about their writing. I can understand why, for them, the stakes for their lifetime is high. The body of evidence points them to know that this life is absolutely it for them, therefore the fundamentalists of the world are on a fast track to destroy the world in a self-fulfilling prophecy. In that sense, Harris is like Bill Maher, religion doesn't make the world better, and if the anti-religionists of the world don't speak out and speak to reason, the world will continue to suffer more than it has based on religion, only exponentially in the future. Maher is much more explicit than Harris in this respect.

The stakes are indeed high for the world and religion in the world. However, I am not a sweet bye and bye person of faith and look to Revelation as a means for interpreting the direction of the world. I believe as a Christian that I am called to do the best I can in this life that God has given me. I let God be concerned with what is going to happen after death. I can only deal with what has been revealed to me. Maybe it is that approach that doesn't produce Harris or Maher levels of anxiety about the current state of the world. I can only do the best I can. My thoughts on religion are what Harris might call a "religious moderate" position. Harris thinks moderates can be more destructive to this world filled with religion than fundamentalists, because moderates help create space for fundamentalists to exist, lead and make decisions on national and world stages that are corrosive to life today. Moderates use mystery as a crutch, and religion comes down to a crux of whether religion is true, and therefore the only real argument is between those that think religion is an illusion and the fundamentalists.

As I haven't read much atheist or neo-atheist writing, I must admit that at times I felt a little defensive reading Harris, because Harris has implicitly labeled me a fool at worst, misguided at best. It's difficult to face critique regarding my understanding, seeking, work and vocation of the last 30 years of my life. My investment level is high. I also find it important to read this kind of work, because in my work, if I can't form coherent thoughts about religion and faith, I will have lost my integrity. Though I don't find myself to be a Christian apologist, my struggle with Harris has forced me to sharpen my thought.

Reading the aforementioned critique in the Christian Century has also helped me recognize some of the holes in Harris' writing. The author is a professor from Georgetown who points out that Harris and Hitchens would not even make a reading list of atheist authors for a class he teaches because these authors merely make lists regarding the evils of religion and write little, if anything, about the consequences of a world without religion. Writing about the evils of religion is shallow, because the body of evidence is wide, and easily taken up by anyone with minimal thought. The classical writers of religionist critique go far deeper in their consideration of a world without religion. I'm guessing I need to read a little Nietzsche in order to ponder the depth of religionist critique rather than merely go wading with Harris.

Another reason why the subtitle reads "Alas, poor Theology"

I have been dabbling a little in the neo-atheist writings of the Hitchens and Harris, wondering what to do with their challenges toward religion. I'm not one who believes atheists are the problem that some Christians believe. But I haven't discerned how to address atheist thought.

People who know my vocational patterns and proclivities know that Walter Brueggemann is a theologian whom I consult on a regular basis, and not merely for Old Testament commentary, but for Christian life in general. I was sold when I embedded my inquiry into Brueggemann's implicit stewardship scholarship called The Liturgy of Abundance and the Myth of Scarcity. This was a transformative piece for me--having read it and heard it live at a conference, I connected my own personal history to the history of God's action in the world and the theological utterances of God's people.

I hope Brueggemann writes more regarding Biblical criticism. I don't think Brueggemann may be specifically addressing atheists in this writing, but I think he offers wisdom in a way that I cannot personally resource. I needed this writing today--I haven't hit a crisis of faith in my reading, but not knowing how to think about atheist thought was a little disconcerting. I'll be writing about Sam Harris in the coming days, and hopefully some worthwhile thought and writing will follow.

Hot, hot, hot

I grew up without air conditioning, then I live with it for 8 years, and without it I turn into a bigger wimp than I ever imagined. Indeed, Cascadia residents don't know how to live with weather extremes. They can't stop talking about it. It only takes the mere hint of a snow storm or 90 degrees and the lead story on Seattle news is firmly established in weather pandemonium. The snow storm of late 2008 and record amount of consecutive 90 degree days and threat of all-time temperature high in Seattle (102) has caused its authors to get literary in their heat observations.

Truly, without air conditioning and sitting in uncharacteristic heat, it's difficult not to sit around and think about how hot it is. I played a little Wii this morning, did a very short workout, did some writing, --anything to forget about how hot it is. We may have to camp out at my grandmother's home tomorrow. The girls don't seem to notice--they just get lethargic and drink more lemonade. Off to the pool and to the movie later today.

Stay cool, Cascadia, it will soon be over (maybe).

Facebook and Tribes

Yesterday I received a good comment about another Seth Godin work Tribes. Not having read the book (hopefully I can find it at the library), and surmising yesterday's comment I thought about my own tribes: the only tribes I have are related to home. One is my dear wife and girls, the other is my parents and brothers. Outside of those tribes, I have friends, but those friendships aren't necessarily part of a tribe.

I am thankful for the tribes I have, I can't make a value judgment about not having other tribes--it's not something I can control at this point in my life. To what do I attribute few tribes? A series of transitions and moving.

1. We didn't move a lot when I was a child, but the times we did move and when I changed schools significantly altered my friendship communities. I attended one school from grades K-1, then another school when I was placed in a new school district program from grade 2-6. The program involved kids from all over the district, bussed in from many neighborhoods all over the district. I saw different kids in sports, in my neighborhood, at school, at church. In middle school I continued in the school district program, but later withdrew over conflicts with teachers. I also discovered my family was moving 60 miles away, and I wanted to spend more time with another tribe outside the district program.

2. After moving, my family stayed in the new town much longer than I did. I lived there 4 years. I think my parents were there 14 years or so, and my brothers went to elementary, middle and high school in that town--they are much more tribe-oriented to that town and their friends than I am.

3. My higher education from 1988 to 2003 involved several institutions:

University of Kansas
South Puget Sound Community College
Minnesota State University-Mankato
Luther Seminary
Catholic University of America
Lutheran Seminary at Gettysburg
Wesley Seminary
South Dakota State University

I stayed the longest at Luther Seminary (a little over 3 years), but I began my program in the middle of the academic year, then switched classes after I was engaged to my dear wife. She started in the class after me--so I graduated with her class. I have friends from some of these institutions, but not a tribe.

4. During my ordained ministry, I have never served in a congregation or town more than approximately 2.5 years. While serving as an interim pastor, there's always been a distinct distance from groups that I encounter in congregational life. I think it's the nature of my vocational demographic, the moving around I do, and the nature of the interim pastor role. Though I have made some friends along the way, nothing has formed for me that resembles a tribe. My dear wife has tribes from our time in South Dakota--she benefited from staying in one congregation and the established connections from her time as an undergraduate student in South Dakota. My vocational path and location hasn't lent itself to tribal formation.

5. As I reflect on the Facebook invitations I have received, some appear to be about friend accumulation, some are about a fringe tribe welcoming, some I don't understand the motivation. In tribe speak, my response is: "not my tribe." In family system speak, the question is, "is this of self or is this not of self?" The answer is "not of self."

I don't need Facebook to communicate with my dear wife, my daughters, my diasporic friendships, my parents, or my brothers. It makes sense that effective communication among tribes can be enhanced by Facebook. I will probably read Godin's book to better understand tribal behavior in the congregations and communities I serve. Thanks to yesterday's responder for providing good reflection for me today.

On Tess of the D'Urbervilles

"How can I pray for you," [Tess] said, "when I am forbidden to believe that the great Power who moves the world would alter His plans on my account?"

--Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Barnes and Noble Edition, p. 374)

On a theological level, Tess of the D'Urbervilles is a worthy read. I like this question Hardy crafts in Tess' conversation in her troubled relationship with Alec D'Urberville because it makes so many statement about religious influence in human existence. Has Tess been poorly educated about doctrine? Does she merely have self-image issues? Has she been influenced somewhat by a deist way of thinking?

Some have written about Hardy's loss of religion in his lifetime; Hardy offers main characters who are clearly wrestling with their faith, if not lost it altogether. Yet it is evident that faith and religion have impacted each characters' lives. I'm not sure that after all of the tragic events in Tess that transpire whether Hardy is attempting to debunk Christian faith or religion in general, or critique the social structures that expose institutional Christianity as a deeply flawed social fabric contaminated with hypocrisy, further tainted when woven with the arbitrary cruelty of social class. Hardy exposes social class as a farce, while exposing how people buy into this construction without challenging it--to the point of their own destruction. I can relate to this--the contemporary financial philosopher Dave Ramsey says that we go broke and push our lives to the brink of destruction trying to impress people that we don't even know or like. In my other lost moments and days--I lived this way as well.

Tess' family lives in a world where they are slaves to social convention--but because these oppressive social boundaries appear rigid they don't really change their lives, even when it appears they have new opportunities when they learn they are part of the famous D'Urberville lineage and can shake their poor image as mere Durbeyfields. Tess ends up blaming herself for situations that she cannot control, yet she is fearful to act in situations that she could control out of fear of social structures. Unfortunately, the paralyzed Tess is felt in the pacing of the book--the only painful part of the book is the seemingly endless dance around social structures between Tess and Angel Clare in the middle 200 pages of the book. These pages can be summarized: In a dairy farm setting, Tess has a secret about her past that she is not sure she wants to reveal to her love Angel Clare. Clare loves Tess and can't imagine what is keeping them from getting married. I am no literature scholar, but this could easily be covered in 50 pages. The only explanation I can find for the length of this part of the drama is that originally was published in sections, and that extending this part of the story is a time-honored technique to keep readers holding on between issues. This type of story extension serves soap operas, and shows like Friends, Moonlighting, Grey's Anatomy, etc., well, but can be agonizing for followers. Some authors and screenwriters don't know when to move on (Hardy did it a little too late for my taste, but I was going to finish this book come hell or high water). Crafting stories in this way builds readership through word of mouth and public discourse. Though I can understand the technique, it doesn't work as much for a novel.

Some have written that Tess of the D'Urbervilles is one of the finest novels written in English of all time. Indeed, the language is precise, and the book revealed the gaping holes in my vocabulary that I hadn't seen since I took the Graduate Record Examination a few years ago. Just because the language was precise didn't mean Hardy was overstated in his prose. I only had to look up more words in the dictionary than I had to in many years.

I don't know if I experienced redemption reading Tess of the D'Urbervilles. I have always harbored doubts to learn well from reading classic literature. I gained a little more confidence reading this book, and I was reminded about what I did learn from my blown opportunity in 2nd year literature in college: pay attention to characters, details and language. Be persistent and take your time. At least I can enjoy literature at a deeper level, and use it to engage in public discourse and reflect on important themes in life. I'm looking forward to watching the Tess of the D'Urbervilles film and consider the themes at a deeper level.

Preaching for August 2, 2009

Exodus 16: 2-4, 9-15
Psalm 78:23-29
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35

Preaching in heat is absolutely draining, not just for the preacher, but for the congregation. Some contextual factors probably shouldn't matter to the proclamation of the Gospel, but I think it's an issue. I need to keep my message brief, lest the goodness of the message is lost on people wondering when they can get out of the sanctuary for something cool to drink. If I was a long-term pastor in a congregation, I would start a discussion about air conditioning, or at least provoking a discussion for serving smoothies or bringing in a giant water cooler.

I am thinking about focusing on Exodus this week, mostly because I am once again drawn toward the topic of complaining. Here the Israelites are in a wilderness setting with tenuous provisions. The complaining crescendos--and God produces. Why have I not noticed this before?

If I was God, I wouldn't let my followers benefit from complaining. I don't like to let my own children benefit from complaining. I am less likely to give them something if they whine; on my daughter's responsibility chart, she receives a gold star for days when whining/complaining is eliminated or minimized. After participating in many funerals over the years of ministry, on the list of compliments for the deceased, "he/she never complained" is probably in the top 10. Why is complaining seen as a character flaw outside of legitimate claims of injustice? Even in cases of complaining against injustice, complaining is still not embraced.

Should it be taken into account that the Israelites are complaining about basic provisions? Does God respond to complaints relative to Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs? The higher one moves up complaining related to Maslow's chart, does it make it more likely that God will smite people?

Complaining is a strong theme in Wellman's book comparing different ends of the Christian spectrum in the Pacific Northwest--the liberal Protestants are the ones doing the complaining about ministry in the Pacific Northwest, Wellman found in his research. I have assumed complaining is the bad posture--and I've preached 2 sermons this summer interpreting Bible passages toward the deterioration that comes from complaining in the life of the Church.

But here in Exodus is a passage that rewards complaining with abundance, but the abundance of the foundation of Maslow's Hierarchy is called "manna (translated: what is it?)" I think the response to complaining doesn't necessarily speak to a complete giving in by God to complaining--because there are boundaries to dealing with "what is it?" Gather only enough for the day, except for Friday, where you can gather double--which covers God's resting day.

I will be doing a word study on complaining this week, and hope to deliver a refined message on the meaning of complaining for the community of faith, because I think American Christians are particularly adept at complaining. I can complain with the best of them, especially about the heat. My character is severely flawed in the world of Christendom.

The excellent rain

While taking the dog out this morning for his morning constitutional, I felt a cool, light and wet feeling on my arms. The air has been so dry this summer in the Pacific Northwest that I looked around to see if I had unknowingly walked through a sprinkler. From an overcast sky, I received the refreshing blessing of a rain I had not felt in years--the rain mist that doesn't get you wet. I felt the rain, but there was no evidence of rain on my skin or clothing.

As Timothy Egan points out in his great book, The Good Rain, Seattle is not even close to being a top city in the U.S. for rain (though its neighbor on the coast, Quillayute, is #3). There is still a perception of rain culture in the PNW that cannot be shaken.

Maybe the rain perception has something to do with the overcast skies, the moderate climate, the method of dress for locals, even the way the locals name a huge festival after an English colloquialism for an umbrella (a festival that celebrates the region a few weeks before the rains come for another 8 months or so). Maybe it has something to do with feeling a rain that I have never felt anywhere else in my travels.

The rain this morning reminded me (quoting a friend): "my feet felt like they belonged." It rained, but my feet didn't get wet. It's almost like Moses with the burning bush (Exodus 3:2): "[Moses] looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed."

I stood under the rain, yet I was not wet: a Pacific Northwest odyssey.

Blogging and unemployment

I wonder about the relationship between blog posts nationally and unemployment numbers. My guess is--unemployment up, blog posts up. Unemployment down, blog posts down. At least that's how it works for me.

There's no way I can keep up this kind of blogging pace outside my home, fully employed, unless I use a blog as sermon preparation. I've rediscovered that I like the writing life--and my writing life is a bit like my running life. I like to make the decisions; when writing or running becomes work, they aren't as fun. Maybe that's why I'm less likely to make a living as a writer. I'm still pondering my Tess review--this book overflows with topics for consideration. At least I finally finished the book! It only took me nearly 6 months...

Today is going to be mostly a homebody day. I'll probably walk the kids to the park and read a little Tobias Wolff while the kids run around the soccer field. Then I'll come home and watch the Mariners play this morning while I fold laundry (what a game last night! Thanks Branyan and King Felix for the thrill!). The girls have become connoisseurs of jungle gyms, and this one close to our home is below average. Even though we go to that park at least once a week, they barely notice that play set any more. We all like the soccer field by our house. It actually has good sight lines, I think an architect must have been part of this plan. I can sit on a little perch a few hundred feet from the field and see everything they do. I think the girls like the freedom of running around where they want on their own time. I guess we're peas in a pod.

On the road again--running as a way of life (part 3)

Before my dear wife and I moved to South Dakota, I had taken up a regular regimen of pick up basketball 2-3 times per week. That was my favorite method of exercise--I always prided myself on being a gritty player. I took special pride in sprinting back on defense to take away what someone thought would be an easy lay up or running a 3 on 2 break and getting to the corner for a short jumper or layup--or even leading it after I anticipated a pass and made a steal. It was the sprint that produced an immediate gratification, and (bonus!) my conditioning skyrocketed.

I ran a little bit less in those basketball days--if I was playing with a good group of guys, I got in plenty of wind sprints. I used running more for getting away than conditioning; Lake Country Wisconsin provided great scenery for running getaways.

Upon moving to South Dakota I continued the same running pattern. Basketball 3 days per week and running 2 or more days per week. I played hoops while taking classes at South Dakota State (and lost about 5 pounds in sweat in that painfully hot gym), and then picked up playing at the Sioux Valley/Sanford/Mob Wellness Center. I can't say I was in the best shape of my life (I should have been), the big shift was the birth of our first child, and I could no longer work out when I pleased. I had never been a rigorously scheduled person, I ran whenever the Spirit moved me. When #1 was born into our 2 pastor household, we were pulled in all kinds of directions with a child making her own demands. I had a hard time adjusting to compromises to my running time.

Then about 6:10 am in January, 2004, while playing pick up basketball, executing one of my favorite plays, hustling back on defense to break up an easy bucket, someone with as much or more aggressiveness than me, collided with me mid-air at high speed on the way to the hoop. My lower left leg twisted in a way I didn't know it could. I have no recollection how I landed. I think the injury happened mid-air, which the doctor said was unlikely, but possible. I blew out my ACL, MCL and significantly damaged the meniscus. It was a long, slow and painful recovery.

I had to retire from basketball and learn the dynamic of personal limitation and compromise, from familial to physical. I still haven't learned all of these lessons. Though not an elite athlete, I performed at a good level for several years in almost any way I wanted. My own maturity level held me back, but I also had many joys through physical performance. Family really isn't a limitation--but dynamics of relationships accentuate the choices I make every day. What is important to me? How will I invest my time, my body, my resources?

Running became the obvious choice as a great investment in me, my family, my body and resources. Running fits my economy--I can work my heart, pray, think, plan, experience joy, work my muscles, achieve and keep my body working well. Running is also a habit practice--I've been doing it more or less twice per week for 25 years, with the only large gap being recovering from knee reconstruction (about 2 years). I may try other things like bicycling, swimming, cross-country skiing, hiking, or some other sport that doesn't put my ACL at an incredibly high risk. I always have an entry point with running.

I hit a low point in fitness last fall. It was an especially hot summer in South Dakota; the thought and experience of going outside to run made me physically ill. I had also made too many excuses about the schedules of my family as taking me away from any consistent physical activity. Carrying around the weight I was didn't help matters. Without too much thought, but with consideration of my knees, I dedicated myself to short, but consistent runs early each morning. It was the only way I could do it and not worry about anything in the lives of the 3 females in the house. It was my time. I rose between 4:45 and 5:15 am 5-7 days per week and went to the track. The track reduced the pounding effects of pavement running. I continued almost regardless of the conditions--I think I missed one day because of a lightning storm. I ran in several inches of snow this last winter. I ran in -20 degrees, which was a lot more comfortable for me than running in the heat. I was well equipped (I now own ice/snow running attachments for my shoes--I'm also amazed by the cold weather running gear), and I wasn't going to miss the prayer, thought and planning time. I was further motivated by a race for which I registered around St. Patrick's Day.

The move to Washington has created a new list of excuses for a reduced running pattern, but I've also bought in to Jeff Galloway's program of running less often and focusing more on the weekly long run as a means to prevent injury and actually boost achievement. I want to get out there every day, and I haven't figured out a cross-training regimen that works for me. I've also added shoe orthotics for injury prevention and to deal with an old injury. Like the rest of life, dealing with adversity and making adjustments is more of what life is about than looking to dwell in good times, all the time and not seeing the gift of each day. I'm working toward a half-marathon on Labor Day and hopefully a marathon around my 40th birthday. I'm looking to make another adjustment for cross-training tomorrow--something I have basically ignored.

I will make that adjustment in running--it's a way of life.

Downtown Owl: my new sub-hobby as a Chuck Klosterman apologist (as if he needs one)

Regardless of book quality, rarely do I complete a book in less than a week. Granted, Chuck Klosterman is relatively easy to read--sometimes I find it easier to read Klosterman than the comics section.

Why do I find him so easy to read these days? Klosterman feels like a pseudo-friend as I read his work. I don't think I have the life, time or energy for many friends these days. I don't necessarily lament this, I live a blessed life. However, there's a distinct quality and added value to reading (hearing) something about a philosophical shared experience. Though I wasn't born in the Northern Great Plains (NGP), I recently lived there for 8 1/2 years, and those years left an indelible imprint on my life. Klosterman no longer lives in North Dakota, yet he writes in a way that attempts to extract meaning from his life in North Dakota that only distance provides. As I am neither a book critic or well-read, I wonder if Klosterman is unique in his depiction of the NGP, one who understands the cultural characteristics of NGP life and actually names them with a bit of critique and an abiding affection (Klosterman dedicates the novel to "Melissa" and "North Dakota." The only author I can recall who comes close is Garrison Keillor (is Klosterman a sort of Gen X Keillor? I'm waiting for Klosterman's new book in October). The major difference I would note is Keillor's distinct use of sarcasm is mostly absent in Klosterman. Where Keillor gave me humorous insights to cultural quirks in the NGP, Klosterman has helped me extract meaning from my experiences in the NGP over the past 8 years.

As a pastor in the NGP, I served in places like Owl, North Dakota, but I never lived there. I always went home to the big city to sleep in my bed with my dear wife. I attended basketball games, I ate at the local cafes, I observed teenage socialization, I observed particular family dynamics, I participated in senior citizen philosophical symposiums in church basements and local eateries. After all of those years in NGP ministry, I learned that though I had a passport into strange places in people's lives that few (if any) other people had, most people behave differently in the known proximity of their pastor. Therefore there was much I didn't see in people's basic lives. Klosterman provided plausible and interesting depictions of characters with whom I interacted in the congregations I served--but I also didn't get to know. Klosterman filled in some curious gaps for me. Even though Klosterman claims his work is not autobiographical, he is writing about what he knows. Though Klosterman creates an omniscient narrator for Downtown Owl, I feel like the novel represents getting together with a friend to compare and contrast life in particular towns of which Klosterman knows.

After reading reviews of Downtown Owl from Entertainment Weekly and The New York Times. Both reviewers critique Klosterman's level of omniscience, that Downtown Owl reads too much like a Klosterman essay, with nimble cultural commentary that is sometimes distracting from character development. This critique may or may not be valid; I suppose it may depend on why you're reading the book. Though I didn't necessarily care about all of Klosterman's cultural commentary from the narrator, I'm not sure Klosterman cares if a reader resonates with all of his references. I believe that is his style. He gives his readers too much to think about, but writes in a way that says, "enjoy what you can, gain insight from what you can, toss aside the rest. It doesn't bother me." Sure, some of Klosterman's social commentaries may have been superfluous to character development, but it didn't take away from my personal resonance with the characters and the general observations about Owl compared to the rest of America. I was still able to extract meaning in light of my own experiences that made me laugh and think on multiple levels. Few authors have that kind of cache with me, which is why I finished the book in a week.

If you want to learn more about Klosterman, check out his two-part podcast appearance with Bill Simmons from ESPN (look for June 28-29). My big learning from these podcasts was that the only way Klosterman was able to get his novel published was that Downtown Owl was part of a two book deal, the other being a book of essays (to be released October 2009). I'm glad Klosterman has the kind of leverage that he can write out of his own creative place and not merely what some believe the market will bear. I hope that Downtown Owl sold enough books that Klosterman will write another novel.

Post script on books: Klosterman was about the only reading distraction I had to finishing Tess of the D'Urbervilles this week. In the quest for something new, Christopher Hitchens "god is not Great" was available at my local library branch. Though somewhat interesting, Hitchens won't eclipse Tess on my priority list. But something else may come along...

My reading list mocks me

Finally, I have reached the final quarter of "Tess of the D'Urbervilles." A book I started in February with great hope and excitement. I will write more about it after I finish, but I am discouraged for my future study because Tess still has this air of a book that I am "supposed" to read, which ends up being a mocking sort of buzzkill when it comes to reading. I've read several other books since beginning Tess, not to mention distracted by big life events like Lent/Easter and moving across half the country. I'm still plugging through the novel.

My family has taken recent interest in the public library. I am proud and thankful for this development; I like how the library encourages reading (duh) for the children, but it also connects our family with a shared activity while also lifting up the Frugal Rule. I also find books that draw me in more easily than Tess--I found myself on a Klosterman kick. "Downtown Owl" was back on the shelves after a time away--joy! I also found a paperback "Featured Read" of short stories by Tobias Wolff. Back in my short story days of college and early adulthood, I read quite a bit of Wolff. After seminary and early days of ministry, I lost almost any connection to the fiction form outside of Raymond Carver. When I can borrow the book for free, Wolff should be an easy return to the short story fiction form.

I have also been scouting out books on the topic of geography and religion--but they're either rare or really expensive. But I'm eying these books with a great longing. I'm avoiding Tess, mostly because this book is work, much like weight training in my workout regimen. I know it produces results, but I don't always enjoy the effort it takes. I'm not afraid of work. I enjoy work. Klosterman, Wolff, and religious studies aren't exactly fluff--but this reading list mocks me as I consider having taken about 5 months to read Tess. I need to finish this book by the end of the month.

A double dose of brain spam (and more on Klosterman)

If a neuroscientist reader comes across this blog, maybe I could be enlightened by the science behind a song that gets "stuck in my head (or I could Google this concept)." Sesame Street and other PBS Kids' tracks were touched off by a repeat shuffle button behind my ear, but the Michael Jackson songs have taken the repeat function to a new level. At least they're songs that I tend to like:

"Black and White"
"The Way You Make Me Feel"
"You Wanna Be Starting Something"
"Rock With You"

While bathing the kids this evening I found that I sang a medley weave of "Rug Time (which has evolved into my rendition called 'Bath Time)," from Sid The Science Kid, and "Black and White." I'm wondering what kind of shelf life this double dose of brain spam will have. I'm guessing until my oldest goes back to school. Or at least until my dear wife stops taking interest in the Jackson stories. At least she didn't take the day off to watch the memorial service.

By the way, Chuck Klosterman described some of Jackson's songs using the word "awesomeness." This is not a word that seems to fit his repertoire, but considering his articles on The White Stripes, Radiohead and Robert Plant, Klosterman possesses enough music credibility to say whatever he wants about music--his knowledge base, research and published credits give him plenty of credibility.

I'm just living in a Groundhog Day of catchy songs.

An addition to Famous North Dakotans? Thoughts on Chuck Klosterman's work

After reviewing a few lists of famous North Dakotans I didn't find Chuck Klosterman on those lists. A few theories and thoughts: 1) Does a famous North Dakotan have to be born in North Dakota? According to his profile, though he was born in Minnesota, he was raised in Wyndmere, North Dakota, graduated from North Dakota, and probably wrote one of the more famous pieces of fiction based on a composite North Dakota town, Downtown Owl. Having not read Downtown Owl (it's on my list), but having recently completed Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas, 2) I now wonder whether North Dakota doesn't want to claim him. Some of his work is a little explicit for all of those Norwegian-Americans in North Dakota. 3) What distinguishes someone as "famous?" Is it that their names are part of wider public discourse? That their name is recognized by a wider audience? Klosterman has written for Spin, Esquire, ESPN the Magazine, and The New York Times Magazine, to name a few.

Even though I lived in South Dakota for over 8 years and admired the state, I always thought North Dakota was a little bit cooler than South Dakota for a few reasons:

1. North Dakota colleges and universities are way better at sports than South Dakota colleges and universities (though the gap may be closing). Until a few years ago, the University of North Dakota had the only Division I sports team in the Dakotas (UND Hockey). UND Hockey is really cool (literally and figuratively).

2. North Dakota is much more obscure (which I consider cool). You have to want to go there. South Dakota is drive-through country--with Mt. Rushmore, Wall Drug, and being on Interstate 90--the great path from the West to the Northeast, New England and the Atlantic Ocean, not to mention several large metropolitan areas along the way, many folks can say they've at least driven through South Dakota, and for seemingly good reasons. North Dakota also doesn't have a city over 100,000 people and doesn't have as much easy access popular culture on well-traveled paths as South Dakota.

3. North Dakota has easier access to the bountiful and mysterious north that is Canada.

4. I suppose North Dakota is literally cooler in temperature than South Dakota.

5. Chuck Klosterman.

After reading one of his fabulous articles in ESPN the Magazine a few years ago, I picked up a copy of Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto. I enjoyed this book as I resonated with the Gen X perspective, but also appreciated the anti-academic, yet still sharp and intelligent observation and writing. Chuck Klosterman IV is a similar product to Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs in its intelligence, but it tracks his work (mostly from Spin and Esquire) for a decade. The (London) Evening Standard called Klosterman's work "Ferociously clever and ferociously self-deprecating." Klosterman accomplishes this rare (unique?) combination with tight and economical writing. I particularly enjoyed the introductions to each of his columns/essays. For example:

"You are offered a Brain Pill. If you swallow this pill, you will become 10 percent more intelligent than you currently are...to all other people you meet, you will seem 20 percent less intelligent...Do you take this pill (p. 259)?" This is an introduction to a specific critique of Entertainment Weekly's look at Guilty Pleasures in entertainment. The introduction is good on its own, but it's even better when considered with the essay.

I also appreciated his look at the useless and misguided level of astonishment in cultural critique: "Why do non religious people think that the Christian Right shouldn't have a voice in government? Why do conservatives get angry bout the prospect of gay marriage, even if they've never met a gay person and never will...culture can't be wrong...people can be wrong, and movements can be wrong. But culture--as a whole--cannot be wrong. Culture is just there (p. 267).

The following could be classified as a Gen X perspective, but what I appreciate about the following quote is that Klosterman articulates my reflections on politics and public discourse better than I can myself (I know because I've tried a few times in this blog and foolishly on message boards): "Whenever I meet someone who openly identifies themselves as a Republican or a Democrat, my immediate thought is always 'Well, this person might be interesting, but they'll never say anything about politics that is remotely useful to me.' I refuse to discuss abortion with anyone who is pro-life or pro-choice...All the world's stupidest people are either zealots or atheists. If you want to truly deduce how intelligent someone is, just ask this person how they feel about any issue that doesn't have an answer; the more certainty they express, the less sense they have. This is because certainty only comes from dogma (p. 240)."

I value this kind of thought, but it sure is hard to articulate challenging thoughts such as these from within the church especially from the pulpit or leadership position. Few people in the Church will question the Church in a valuable way. I think there is too much on the line on multiple levels. I certainly don't have the courage to do it on many occasions. From where will the next Martin Luther come? Luther was great thinker with a heart for the common person, a love for God and the mysteries of God, and someone with the courage to articulate where the Church is lost while still holding a love for the Church.

I'm not sure whether Klosterman is intentionally left off the famous North Dakotans lists for his challenging writing, or that he frankly writes about sex and drugs at the dark side of humanity at times. He doesn't glorify the darkness of humanity, but he asks great questions about it and makes great observations. This writing brings to mind the seminal Gen X writer, Douglas Coupland, with his sometimes dizzying prose, dancing the fence of disbelief suspended. But Klosterman's journalistic background also takes his low culture philosophy to a place Coupland cannot go: some of the things Klosterman reports could not possibly be made up. This makes Klosterman a way cool North Dakotan, even if he may not widely be claimed as famous.

On Independence Day

Independence Day was a favorite holiday as a child because it usually meant special activities. We spent a few days at the ocean, watched or lit fireworks, visited some friends at the lake, or have a family gathering at a park. These celebrations weren't overly special, but activities that created anticipation. What does Independence Day mean to me and what will my dear wife and I teach our children?

It's not part of my belief system that my freedom comes from living in the United States, but my freedom comes from God in Jesus Christ. It's still a blessing to live in the United States, but it is not the source of my freedom. I don't attach that freedom to the military or any public servant--but I ascribe to the teaching of Martin Luther that good government is a blessing from God.

I am not an anti-government type, nor do I believe that government is a solution to all problems, even though the zealots from either end of the spectrum seem to enjoy the pigeon-hole process. I do appreciate the positive contributions to my life from the military and leaders in the United States Government. The path of my family changed dramatically when my Grandfather served in World War II on the U.S.S. Washington. With his GI Bill he moved to Washington State and became the first person in his family to graduate from college--a degree in journalism from the University of Washington. He met my grandmother before starting college--another family without a college graduate. We don't have a lot of college graduates in our family, but "furthering education" has been a family value since the GI Bill. Could my Grandfather have gained a college education without help from the US Government? Maybe, but not likely. The GI Bill provided opportunity for many military men and women, making an investment in the future of the nation. I believe the GI Bill was a great investment for the good of the country and its people. Though I can be persuaded to believe that government shouldn't be involved in certain things, someone will have a hard time convincing me that the government is not an important player in investing in people for the common good. Through the GI Bill my Grandfather learned what was possible, and was given the resources to do it. Our family tree was changed.

I met a man in South Dakota Ranch Country who said his biggest regret in life was that he didn't use his GI Bill. I hope that the government is not the sole source of opportunity, but I'm glad that it takes part. Independence Day is another reminder of gratitude in this country for our opportunities. But my freedom comes from God.

I'm not sure yet what we will teach our children--but we had a special day playing at the beach with friends and watching fireworks from our car. The glass and metal barrier of the vehicle gave some security to our oldest daughter who doesn't "like the booming fireworks." I think I will tell them stories of how Americans in her family have contributed to the good of the world--maybe their are other days we can offer critique, but Independence Day can be a day can be a day of reflection about those contributions.

Really Behind The Movies--The Devil Wears Prada

I recall seeing the novel upon which this film was based everywhere--maybe it was a time I spent many days in bookstores spending money I did not have. I must have had something in common with the film's main character played by Anne Hathaway--someone who knew little or nothing about the world of fashion. I recall web searching "Prada" during the apex of the book's popularity; if I was going to avoid pop culture, I needed to know a little more about what I was avoiding. I had no desire to read the book or watch the film, but this was another opportunity for a discussion topic with my dear wife. Wonderful thing about these films is that they provide some detachment from church topics, yet also provide theological grist for the mill should we decide to go in that direction. At the very least, I get to snuggle with my dear wife on the sofa.

I originally believed this movie would go toward the dark side of the Sex and The City series, a vapid depiction of gratuitous consumption in the fashion world. Thankfully, I was wrong about the story line, and it moved toward the good side of Sex and The City, which is sharp dialog, intriguing relationships and insightful social commentary. Though I don't know the book, the storyline avoids vapidity partly from the strong casting of Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep. There is no way Anne Hathaway could carry this story on her own, and she is teetering on future typecasting with mere clumsy/awkward/tentative charm. She is uplifted in her films by some powerful and talented actors, like Tucci and Streep, and also Julie Andrews in The Princess Diaries (no need to review this one--it's like Prada but with no depth of social reflection). I hope Hathaway has taken copious notes on her colleagues' work with such close observations, for Tucci and Streep only magnify their versatility in this film.

It seems that Streep gives a screenplay writer of a popular novel a fighting chance for public discourse to proclaim that the movie matches the ethos of the book. A few Streep monologues ring powerful in this film above the craft of the story itself. In one scene that gives a primary lesson to Hathaway's fashion neophyte, Streep deftly, elegantly and implicitly describes that fashion does not deserve all of the critique from the masses: fashion is where art and beauty meet utility and accessibility. This convergence of beauty and utility also provides thousands and thousands of jobs, a point that couldn't be lost on Hathaway's character, who had won an award for covering a janitor union labor dispute in Chicago. Streep's character does this plausibly and beautifully (with just enough smugness) in a 3-minute scene while glancing at Hathaway's cerulean sweater.

Certainly this film will be entertaining for the fashion gawkers, and Hathaway provides plenty of fodder for that kind of entertainment. In the end, the wonderful surprise of this film is that different social perspectives come to this story, they meet and mingle, confront and question, and come out going their separate ways without acidic and destructive critique. For a story and film that reflects on image, the story is not preachy or overtly critical. It is possible for empathic feelings for all the characters, a rare feat in a story or film. This film was a pleasant surprise during this past week of a surreal and odd look at image through the deaths of 3 oddly different, yet similar public figures, Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett and Billy Mays.

Image is much more complex than the over-simplification that can happen in popular media. This is not to say popular media doesn't play an important role in public discourse, only that it is incomplete. The Devil Wears Prada adds to the depth of discussion about image. I am currently reading a book by Chuck Klosterman that will take that depth to a new and enjoyable level. I will write on this book soon.

Common Sense (Worn-out language, June 18, 2009 edition)

The initial buzz of digital cable is still present in my household, though it slowly dies down with each passing day. I do my best to see what is available on the media spectrum, and the shouters from differing political commentary perspectives shout one piece of lingo that lost its meaning: Common Sense.

What pushed me toward declaring a new term for the worn out language list involved a digital cable viewing of Glenn Beck. I should have known he was promoting a book, because he was screaming and shouting about common sense, and how politicians, especially liberals, need to have more common sense. Beck has written a book based on Thomas Paine's treatise, Common Sense. I'm not sure how much of a screamer Paine was, but Beck has decided that when promoting his ideas, the shriller, the better.

People believe that they need to scream and/or shout in order to be heard. I have learned screaming is foolish, and my children are the perfect testing ground for this proverb. The more I scream, the less they listen. They may respond to my screaming, but nothing of it is postive. They will scream at their mother. They will scream at me. They will scream at each other. They'll scream at school. It's all part of a vicious cycle.

If a good idea exists, screaming won't advance the idea, the idea should have its own merit. I'm not against marketing, but screaming is not marketing. This is only a small portion of the problem with political commentary. The idea of common sense may or may not have it's own merit--that may be for another post. The interesting thing about how this terminology is used is that "common sense" is presented as a value-neutral term. But the political commentary screamers from various viewpoints use the term, scream it, attempting to shock a viewer/listener into believing that their perspective is normative. Beck screamed that even random liberals thought his writing on common sense is common sense.

Please excuse me for not trusting anyone, regardless of political persuasion, for proclaiming the verity of their common sense. If screaming appears to be necessary, the more screaming uttered, the less thought has gone in to the depth of the idea. I'm sure Glenn Beck will sell a lot of books. Though I'm sure I will contribute in some way, because sometimes I love to watch a train wreck. Sometimes I can't practice what I preach.

Dipping my toes into thematic preaching: inheritance (for Sunday, June 21, 2009)

In the past 24 hours I have sprinted my sermon preparation in order to participate in thematic preaching for my context on Sunday, June 21, 2009.

Working through this sermon preparation, I realize that I am more out of my comfort zone than I have been in years with a sermon. This lack of comfort is not a curse--I suppose that almost any preacher does not like to have their preparation routine altered. The big changes:

1. Producing a sermon title. It's not a very good title, but I agonized until about 1:30 am on a theme. I am facing a deadline today.

2. Producing a theme. As I have previously shared, one of my preaching caveats is to keep my own agendas in check. Sure, agendas come out, and I am attempting to be real with myself and God about my biases and hope that God does something with the word I speak.

Once I owned the fact that I have biases, I ask God to do something with my thoughts and put out something gracious and useful that is faithful in my preparation and preaching. I find it hard to turn away from provocation of James Wellman's study in any of my reflections of life in the Church, especially in the Pacific Northwest. One of my significant discoveries in this book is how mainline liberal and conservative evangelical Protestants respond to the religious landscape in the Pacific Northwest. The liberals tend to respond with complaint, and the evangelicals see the religious landscape as ripe with opportunity--Wellman goes so far as to call the evangelical response to the religious landscape "almost giddy."

I know that the congregation to which I am preaching is working toward expanding their physical plant and ministry in the area--a bold move for a liberal Protestant congregation in the Pacific Northwest. Unfortunately, I have to make more assumptions than I normally would about a context, and I will need to offer rhetorical questions to the congregation about how they see their place and life in the region, their relationship with God, and their call to ministry in that place. With the crux of the issue being response to ministry in a particular place, I consulted my study tools.

This homiletical preparation also represents a passion that I continue to refine, and I'm not sure what to call it. I finally have an opportunity to preach and teach with my desired audience, Christians in the Pacific Northwest. Call it a Geography, Sociology and Theology of the Pacific Northwest.

Returning to one of my most reliable theologians, Walter Brueggemann. I consulted three of his books:

1. The Land: Place as Gift, Promise, and Challenge in Biblical Faith
2. Reverberations of Faith: A Theological Handbook of Old Testament Themes
3. Old Testament Theology

Based on the title of the first book--Brueggemann's premise is that Torah proclaims land as a gift from rather than a personal possession. With land being a gift and supported with the language of inheritance in the Old Testament, it would appear that the evangelical response to the land and its opportunities for ministry as a gift. What is the appropriate response to a gift? Certainly this is a challenge in today's culture, when gift card giving has exploded in popularity and gifts in general have become less thoughtful even though they remain an important social currency. The response to a gift with a complaint would probably still be frowned upon, but regardless of social stigma, what does a complaint about the gift say about the relationship between giver and receiver? Since children are probably more likely to complain about a gift, a complaint says something about the maturity level of the receiver. The giver has a teaching moment about thankfulness and grace to the receiver. Assuming that the receiver of the gift is not a child, a complaint about a gift reveals that the relationship has broken down--whether it is mistrust, anger, selfishness, etc.

I see complaints from mainline Protestants about their context, their inheritance of their context as a disposition of living by unquestioned assumptions and entitlement. Wellman lifts up these unquestioned assumptions among mainline Protestants in the conclusion of his study: "Grace...is readily available...one must simply awaken to the fact that one is fully accepted and loved by God. The beauty of this is God's extravagant generosity. The unintended problem comes relative to the church: Why come to church for this spiritual resource? Why is the church a unique instrument of this spiritual resource? The answer is that the church is not necessary...What is important about the church? How is it an essential resource for this form of spiritual capital? Why should one dedicate one's life to the church (281)?" When I hear a complaint about the gift of land/context, I see church leaders who believe they are entitled to people's hearts and minds without deeply considering the questions that Wellman so astutely poses.

Without at least wrestling with foundational "so what" kinds of questions, why should anyone consider being a part of a mainline Protestant Christian congregation? I think some of Wellman's statements are misplaced on Lutherans because our theology diverts from overarching liberal theology on some points, but his central challenges for mainline Protestants fit, and sometimes they are hard to examine. It is hard to have a life time worth of work challenged, not to mention one's own culture. What makes these challenges a little easier for me is that I am not deeply entrenched in the cultural side of Lutheran life. Most of my family lives outside Lutheran circles, and I have a support system not wholly invested in Lutheran culture. My dear wife was raised in deep Midwest Lutheran culture, but her sense of vocation has led her to examine assumptions and not enmesh Lutheran theology with Lutheran culture. I admire my dear wife for her insight and courage. Where there may be some consequences if I challenged the Lutheran establishments' assumptions and attitudes, I will not lose all of my significant relationships, as a Muslim converting to Judaism or as an Orthodox Jew converting to Christianity might experience ostracization. My wife would not lose her relationships, either, but the challenges that she addresses represent a more significant cultural diversion. The challenges for Lutheran Christians in the Pacific Northwest in the mainline Protestant milieu are daunting--but these challenges are possible to address with God.

One of my preaching professors always assigned us to boil our sermons down to a single sentence--here is my first attempt. I leave with this sentence in order that I may take these thoughts and marinate them with the texts:

If the land/context is a gift from God, can we in the church be faithful to God if we put our energy toward complaint?