Sunday, June 19, 2011

Charismatic Chipmunks and Worship

No one showed up. The four of us, dressed in our Sunday’s best, stood amidst the trees. We had a cross sitting on a bench beside us. We had a sermon prepared, a guitar tuned, and an order of worship—no one. About 30 minutes before the service began, we circled around and prayed for whoever came. We waited, nothing.

As we waited for the service to start, I stood on a log, pacing back in forth with my hands in my coat pocket. I looked at the cloud covered mountains, and the trees with morning tears. I could hear birds singing and laughing around me. The trees stood in the color of life, and the streams in the valley ran smoothly. Then a thought occurred to me. Perhaps we were late for the worship service.

All around me, creation screamed and sang to God. If I stood still, I could hear the greenings of creation, but they sound like music. Since the fall, the song of creation is both a requiem and a hallelujah chorus. The trees creak and bend, the clouds hang in melancholy, and the streams run—tired and weary. Oh yea, creation worships and screams, Scripture says even the rocks cry out. There’s a pain in worship. Certainly there is a groaning in creation that we too often neglect in our human experience of worship. Too often it’s light smiles under heavy eyes, and a strong sense of ‘ok’ness. But if we look at creation, it groans. It feels the pain all too well and doesn’t mind sharing its pain with God. Yet, it knows and hopes for the return of Christ.

We have a ‘charismatic’ chipmunk that, to our ears, speaks in tongues every week during our pre-service prayer. Perhaps it’s speaking its own prayer language, but we know it worships with us every week. In fact, it always worships—everyday. Yes, our Pentecostal chipmunk is a fine example of hopeful worship. Even in the groaning is hopefulness. Why? Because creation knows the sons of God are being revealed. They cheer us on to worship, they have their invitation to worship, their hymns, their sermons, their offerings, their doxology and benediction.

If you listen to that chipmunk, it wants us to join.

‘Yes, join our worship! Take hope my human friends, we worship the living God. Yes, it’s painful for now, but we hope, we have a magnificent God! Look around you, our trees sway in dance, our streams run fast, our birds sing the chorus of salvation. He’s coming back! He’s restoring us again, praise be to God’

And then back to tongues.

Perhaps my view of worship is too thin.

As a Christian, and also a minister, I tend to make worship the thing humans do to entertain God. Every Sunday, churches fill with people who get up to praise and worship God. It’s a force they create, devise, and execute. We sing some songs, ‘get fed’, and go home tired. We fulfilled our duty, but no groaning or joy is felt—only dormant idleness. This is not worship because it lacks wonder.

Worship is not something we create, but something we step into. Like a river passing by, it flows whether or not we soak our toes in its cool wetness. All of creation is begging God for restoration of the new creation, and it always praises the God it serves. The ecological cycle of death and life, fall and spring, point to the reality of a fallen earth that worships God. When we worship, we join with them in groaning for the new creation, crying out to God for Christ’s return, hoping in the God of the universe. We step into the stream, we bathe in it, we let its waters pass through us. We feel the cool breeze. We join the wonder. We enter worship.

So whether we have 5 or 50, worship is happening. Whether we have a cute order of worship or not, it still continues. Why? Worship is for all creation, not just humans. It’s not something we create; it’s something we enter. It’s a world of wonder. It’s a groaning. I hardly view worship as groaning because I hardly see worship as a cry of my need for God. But now that I think about it, I feel the pain of creation. I feel the pain of fallenness, of groaning. I understand my chipmunk friend, the birds, the trees, the rivers, my fellow believers, and join them.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Sacred Mind

Info Update:

All is well in Canyon. Sunday we had our first service in Norris (a side camp near our area). We had one person show up, but he was very cool and it felt good to worship together—no matter how small. That day I took a nap and relaxed because I worked like crazy for the last 8 days. Monday I went to Old Faithful and then went and hiked with two people from the ACMNP team. We went to the Tower area where we saw sheep, foxes, and other deer. The landscape is so diverse it’s unreal. Even on Tuesday before work, Kyle came up and we hung out and went to the Canyon and Lake area—unreal.

I am not longer a dish specialist, but the expo guy (Expo Expert). I basically serve as liaison between servers and cooks while traying up food to go out to guests. It’s great because I get to interact with both servers and cooks and opens up new relationships. It also helps that I got a raise too that is significant given my previous wage. I was told I will be in this position for about 3 weeks, then serve—we’ll see. I think the hesitation to move to server stems from my earlier departure (Aug 28th) then the end of their season here (end of sept).

Reflection—Sacred Mind

The other night I sat in my bed looking through the window at the trees. The rain tapped on my window and I looked up to see sunlight peeking through some pine needles. Sun? There hadn’t been sun in days. I grabbed my raincoat and headed out the door. After walking around the lodge where I work, I stood speechless at the scene—no rain, only a beautiful sunset. The light seemed alien, like it came from a futuristic world or heaven. I was speechless, no words to describe, no picture to take.
My mind begin to ask, ‘why?’ Why the sunset? Does God paint the skies for one person? Is it possible he painted it for me? Maybe it’s just light particles—something scientific and easy to explain. The reality of the event requires processing with my mind, but how can I properly discern it? What does this event inform about how we relate with God?

There’s a story in the Bible about Jesus and his disciples sitting around when Jesus asks a dangerous question: who do others say that I am? It’s dangerous because the appraisal of men is cheap, and I can imagine Jesus wasn’t always properly understood as the God of the universe. The responses? Elijah, Jeremiah, John the Baptist, A prophet—someone important, and good but the details are debatable. Then, the question—But who do you say that I am?

Who do you say that I am? How does your mind understand me? How do you know me?

These questions are critical to the sunset.

If the sunset could speak, what would it say? Would it be bored? Would it shine indifferently? Or would it be consumed in the glory of God, eager to shine his love to one, small, guy in Yellowstone National Park?

These are dangerous thoughts for humans because it means we are loved. That somewhere in the cosmos, God thinks about us. Not only that, God surprises us with a sunset like a lover surprises with flowers. He gives to us creation to know him better. Although it’s easier in Yellowstone to think this way, it’s a reality we step into instead of a change in scenery.

Our minds must learn to think this way because our minds don’t think this way.

Isn’t it the hardest truth: that God loves you and cares enough to let you know. Often we believe he is either indifferent or actually angry at us. We believe the lie instead of the truth. Our minds are warped. I want to be careful and not make total depravity total truth. Yes, I believe in total depravity, but its application needs constant evaluation and wisdom to avoid preaching despair. Calling people depraved is bullying if it doesn’t end in the good news. Romans doesn’t end in chapter 3—and thank God. Our doctrine of humanity informs our mental state so that we love him better. It is how we think about God that is infinitely important because it changes the way we think about each other.

It’s a mind that thinks about life in light of his or her relationship to God. The greatest commandment involves loving God with all of our mind. What does this mean?

Our minds were given to us to love God.

No, our minds are for learning, education, theological data, information, thinking, intellection, and creativity—nope.

Our minds were given to us to love God.

Yes, it expresses itself in all of the above arenas, but we shouldn’t mistake the end for the means.

I love theology. But theology is limited and contextual. Our minds weren’t made to love Lewis, Moltman, Calvin, Luther, Augustine, or any other theologian. Our minds were made to love God. Perhaps their words inform, teach, and make sense of some madness, but it is not the end itself. The end is God, the relationship and the learning is to know him better. This is why I think theological texts serve their purpose, but need tossing aside every now and again.

So what does it mean?

It means allowing the God of the universe to love us and to actually cognitively receive that reality. It’s happening, but a renewed mind, a sacred mind, sees God as the source of the sunset. She wakes up and sees her own awakness as a gift from God—her life is from God.

It’s renewing a of our minds that takes us to a new understanding of who he is in all things. He wants us to see him, and he won’t even let us stand in the way. He gave us creation, and he gave us himself—in Christ. We know him through our relationship with him, we know him by looking to Christ, we know him by allowing ourselves to experience this reality again. We experience him as he works through our own personal lives. We begin to hear him in the raindrops, the sunset, the traffic, the noise of life.

Listen closely. Look around you. He’s speaking to you—now. He wants you to see him again.

‘Jesus replied, ‘love the lord your God with all your heart, and with all of our soul, and with all of your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment’—matthew 22:37-28

‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind’—Romans 12:2


Your support means more to me than you know,

LTDA,

Trey

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Update: Dishes, Dishes, Dishes

Good morning or afternoon!

Info Update:
I moved into Canyon one week ago, and wanted to update my life for you all. I have a job working as a dishwasher (or dish wash specialist extraordinaire—my definition) in the lodge where we do the dishes for EVERY restaurant in the area. I’ve worked 8 hours everyday since Saturday and will until this coming Sunday. My hands feel burned and swollen, I’m constantly soaked in water, and the job is repetitive. Yet, I have learned immensely from the opportunity so far, but more on that later.
No services were held last Sunday due to work demands and the mountains of snow on the ground. Yes, it’s June and we have snow. Yes, I’m sick of it. No, it won’t stop anytime soon. The ampitheater where we hold services is still under snow, and there is no indoor alternative up here where we can schedule services. So, needless to say we haven’t even gotten started. On a good note, we’ve assembled a small team, and have a working basis for planning the services. We even added a new team member! A girl attended church in Mammoth (North of my location), and met the pastor who also serves as our director for this area too. Once a connection was made, he referred her to our site to help lead worship services. She’s very sweet and will fit in nicely with our team.
I have a roommate now. He is from the Czech Republic and is a nice guy. This is his first time in an English-speaking country, but he’s very clear speaking. I’ve met some more people and my co-workers are really good. Most are from Malaysia and North Carolina—what a combination! In all seriousness, work has helped acclimate to the schedule up here.

Reflection—Dishes, Dishes, Dishes

As stated, my job up here is very simple as a dishwasher. Here’s the central dogma of my job; take the dirty dish, rinse off excess food, set on conveyor belt into the giant cleaning machine, take dish off of machine, put dish in its proper place. Easy, right? Indeed, my job is very simple. The difficulty begins when you wash the same dish over and over for 8 hours straight.
When I first began washing I scrubbed every dish as fast as possible and completed the dogma as quickly as possible. Truth be told, I impressed myself. I even grew frustrated when other co-workers didn’t wash as fast. I could keep the conveyor belt moving without any delay. I was fast. But after about 30 minutes, that pace could not work, and I slowed down. My head ached, my body slowing, seriously, didn’t I JUST wash you. And I still had 7 ½ hours to go.
My job does not ask me to wash one dish well. It demands that I wash the dishes as they come, over and over for 8 straight hours. My boss does not demand speed but consistency. Oh, I know, I hate the word too. 8 hours of the same thing? How can you do it? Do you not go insane? The answer to all is ‘yes’. We do it. In fact, I believe we have the best dish crew in Yellowstone. Why? Because we work consistently. One person pulls dishes, another cleans them, and another loads them—all day. We take whatever comes and do it, over and over again with the same level of enthusiasm as before. Instead of making one dish shiny, we clean the dishes consistently for as long as it takes.
So too is the cadence of life. Whatever we do, whoever we are, life demands we wash dishes with consistency. It’s the difference between infatuation at the beginning of a marriage and the 50th anniversary—the success of one dish vs. 8 hours of washing that dish. Life is washing dishes over and over again. It moves from one dish to another, and often very quickly. The only pace that will sustain us for years is the consistency of washing the dishes over and over again. If we want a significant life, avoid needing something new to do, and do what you do with consistency. If you’re a student in school, study consistently. If you work, do your best work consistently. If you do both, do them both with excellence and consistency--not slacking on one or the other. If you minister, be there—over and over again. If you’re in whatever relationship, be with that person over and over again. No one is impressed by our one-time moment of success. We write a paper the night before and get an A. So what. That doesn’t mean we’re brilliant or learned anything. In fact, it means we’re too juvenile to actually try and work on it over a long period of time (and I’m guilty of this, but I think it’s worth sharing with others too). Our jobs don’t care if we do one project really well one time. Nope, what really makes a significant life is aiming to do what we do again and again, the best way we can, and in whatever way we can. It means planning your days and time in a way that allows you to wash the dish over and over. ‘Yea, but I have a billion other dishes Trey’. Indeed, so when a cook needs an unexpected particular dish at a given moment, I wash that dish and send it through, make sure he/she gets it, and go back to the work. This life demands priorities. But, I think the problems arise when we get overwhelmed with too many dishes in front of us or don’t know where to begin.

And so insert failure—procrastination, failure, lackluster effort, laziness, depression, and let the mountain of dishes look demoralizing.

I have this problem too, so I get it. Yet this is precisely where the Gospel speaks in a profound way. God himself designated the cadence of dishwashing. He demands consistency and gives us dishes to wash (Read Genesis and see what God gives Adam and Eve to do in the garden). He always gives us dishes because he loves us wants us to love others forever. He is the manager and the head chef, and he needs dishes washed so he can properly serve people. But what if we don’t wash the dishes—what if we suck at it? We don’t always finish the task—sometimes we drop dishes, forget to wash, get pissed at being a dishwasher instead of a server, or lazily grab a drink. Yet, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that we don’t wash the dishes, but he gives them anyway because he wants to—he really believes we can love people over a long period of time.
If he knows we will fumble the dish, why give it to us? Because he loves us. He initiates love, we don’t. In fact, we are really bad at love. There is a hidden grace in the dishwashing of life. The context of all dishwashing is the love of God. It extends beyond ourselves and flows into the life of others—that’s why dishwashing is necessary. The grace to us is that despite our multiple failures, he gives us the dish anyway. We may hate the dishes given, we may hate the grind, but he still wants us to do it. Even if we know it might not work out, he says, ‘I want you to keep it anyway’. I think of Peter after denying Christ, receives the keys to the Church. Peter? Why not John or one of the other disciples who didn’t bail when it got tough? It all begins with the initiation of Christ., and he sustains us.
I can honestly say that what sustains me here in Yellowstone is the reality of God’s love and his desire to love others through my being here. By no means do I do it well, but it is a daily reality that sits in my mind. Yes, he uses dishwashers like us for this task. It doesn’t matter if we serve tables, cook, or prepare the food—we do it because we love people. I scrub the dish because I want to know what it means to love, fail at it, and have God start all over again. And here’s some good news, at the end of the day, it is God who washes us—his dishes—so that we can be plates that serve his love to the world. It’s not all on you, but he wants us to enter into his love. Everyone tells us love is what matters and wins, then go do it. Over, and over, and over, and over again.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

What Exactly Are You Doing?

I checked into my dorm at Canyon Village here in Yellowstone. I have the room to myself at the moment (I don’t see this luxury lasting forever), and it’s nice to get unpacked and settled in before work, ministry, and time become consumed. I want to make this post about what I’m doing this summer. Some questions have been raised, so I hope to make it clearer in this blog.

I’ll make a list to help visualize and compartmentalize the different summer activities.

1) A Christian Ministry in the National Park—My primary focus in coming out here is to work with this ministry. Yellowstone is actually the founding site. Basically, we lead public worship services within the national parks. (And, although we receive the finest cooperation from the national park services, we take no funds or in no way are associated with the national park—I always have to say this). The primary activity is Sunday worship services. In Canyon, we have 3 to lead every Sunday (9, 10:30, and 7pm) and in Norris at 9am. These are for employees, visitors, and anyone else who is curious to come and worship. The organization is distinctly interdenominational, so the various liturgical backgrounds are impressive. In Yellowstone this summer, of 20 people there are 13 different denominations. They do a great job of accommodating for all the traditions. We have a great team in Canyon, and we’re hoping to start services on Sunday. Please pray, check out the link (www.acmnp.com), and get a feel for what we do out here.
2) Working for Xanterra—What’s great about this ministry is the intentional bi-vocational format for the summer. It’s nice because I don’t have to ask you for money, and can actually work (my dad would be proud of this fact). I work a 40-hour a week job through the concessions program. While the details are sketchy at the moment, it looks like I’m working as a server assistant or server in the Canyon Lodge. While the pay won’t be astronomical, part of the ministry is working hard and working well as an employee. I live in the employee dorms here, and have an opportunity to meet the different seasonal employees in this area. Today alone, I’ve met all sorts of people from all over the country working here for all sorts of reasons. Some of the stories are broken, others hopeful, others—unsure. I suppose I even fall in that last category because it’s hard to decipher the proper response. And yet, Scripture commands love—however that may look.
3) MLP Credit—I am getting internship credit out here, so there is an academic focus for this as field education. I’ve already written one paper on field education and have my goals approaching shortly. I’ll try to post my goals once they’re officially set for the summer so you can keep me accountable!
4) Christian Community in Montana—Meeting the people out here helps gives a real sense of local support from amazing Christians. So many stories begin as, ‘I moved out here 20 years ago and never left’. Bill and Debbie Young are the primary leaders in this Christian community, working here for over 20 years. The people really love their ministry here and they work hard to make it available to all. We’ve also learned some of the history here. I might post a blog about it, but one Episcopalian Minister named ‘Whiskey Isle (sp?)’ claimed he wasn’t a good preacher unless he was ‘full of the spirits’ (hilarious and probably true). Yet, every weekend he took a 30 mile train, rode horseback for a few more miles into Yellowstone, and baptized, preached, and ministered to workers up here—amazing life. The rich history towers above me as I hope to work within the park.
5) Living in Yellowstone—I won’t lie, the prospect of living out West and in one of the most scenic parts of the country lured me into making the leap. While other places would be great, I’m young, single, and fortunate enough to have support and the means to make this a reality. So far, it’s been incredible and have loved the life out here.

I hope this helps clarify my work out here and to give you specific prayer requests. I do miss those far away, but I ask for your support during my brief tenure out West. On some occasions, it seems clear this is where I need to be at the moment. Please pray.

With Love,

Trey