Five for Friday… Christmas traditions

This blog on traditions was originally going to be much longer, but it eventually just became too unwieldy.  So I decided to pare it down and this was a much more manageable format.

I’m the older of my parents’ children.  As the firstborn, I’m the keeper of the traditions.  Sometimes, I insist on traditions just to give my sister fits.  Sometimes, I take advantage of my role as keeper of the traditions in order to make up new traditions on the spot.  It’s a lot of fun.

The traditions in my family are a mixture of lame and love, but I’m not sure the two are separable.  Real families have real foibles, and it’s always useful to be able to laugh at them – sooner or later.

1) Christmas tree selection

When I was young, we used to select our tree from among the trees planted as a wind break at my grandparents’  house.  These trees were not pruned or well-proportioned.  Once our tree had two points.  We used fishing line to pull the branches into place, and put the trees into the corner so that you only had to look at two sides.  My mom loved these trees.  (Ha!)

Now that I  have my own house, we have an artificial tree – the ultimate in lame.  This year I had a great idea for next year.  I’m going to cable-tie a power strip to the trunk to make it easy to plug in the lights.  How’s that for lame?

2) Christmas tree trimming

Both now and when I was young, the trimming of the tree was a family affair.  I helped my dad put up the tinsel and lights, and for the past two years my older daughters have done the same.  Then we all hang ornaments, both homemade and Hallmark-made.  Here’s one from childhood:

My wife thinks it’s ugly.  (The word she used just now is “historical”.)  Frankly, I don’t understand why it offends her.

My parents liked to give ornaments that commemorated something from the previous year.  Often, this meant that the ornament was hand-crafted by my father.  When you do this at the last minute, you open yourself to teasing from your children years later when they write about the ornaments in their blog…

(In case it’s not clear, it’s a thin piece of balsa, colored with marker and lettered with a Sharpie.  I have all of the ornaments that my dad made.  This was not his best year.)

3) Christmas Eve dinner – Oyster stew

No one actually likes oyster stew, except for my father.  However, I enjoyed enforcing the tradition more than I disliked the stew.  (This was because my sister really disliked the stew.)  Recently, the only oysters in the stew have been the oyster crackers.

4) Christmas morning traditions

Christmas morning activities at my parents’ house are very time-honored traditions.  We begin with a breakfast of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls arranged in the shape of a Christmas tree.  (As the family grew from four to ten, we’ve had to use two packages instead of just one.)  Then, we open stockings, which contain some small presents.  For example, I had band-aids and jelly beans in my stocking this year (among other things).  After the stockings, we read the Christmas story (which Oldest Daughter did this year).  Finally, we exchange presents, although in recent years we’ve also made charitable contributions in honor of family members.

5) The Christmas cantata

At the expense of some other good traditions, I’d like to finish with one that is no longer happening.  For many years (40 or 50, although I’m not sure that anyone knows for sure), my home congregation presented the Christmas story with a mixture of song and acting.  The major embellishment was the inclusion of a group of children who went to see the baby Jesus.  When I was young, I played the parts of different children, so that by the time that I was ten or so, I knew the parts of all of the children.  When I got too old to be one of the child actors, I joined the choir.  I still know these songs (especially the tenor lines) and I still enjoy them.

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There’s my list.  Even as type this, I hear that Oldest Daughter is preparing a Christmas party for tonight with my sister.  Maybe it’s the start of something new.

I’d love to hear about other traditions.  Maybe some of the faithful readers from my wife’s family will add their favorites?

Christmas in the Trenches

Take some time to read this reflection by Jim Wallis:

Christmas in the Trenches:

Men who have come to know each other’s names and seen each other’s families are much less likely to want to kill each other. War seems to require a nameless, faceless enemy.

After 2000 years, does the coming Prince of Peace still have trouble finding room in our homes?

Advent: What are we waiting for?

In early November, Christine Sine invited readers of her blog to join in reflecting on Advent.  During this season, what are we waiting for?

I’m still reflecting, but I may have something to contribute to the conversation later this week.  In the meantime, you might appreciate reading what others have said during the first week of Advent.

Over the river and through the woods…

Well, here we are at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.  We traveled early this morning, instead of trying to fight Thanksgiving Eve traffic last night.  And just what does a three hour trip from the Chicago ‘burbs to north-central Indiana look like?  Here’s my view from the driver’s seat…

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“Who wants to see my proboscis?”  (Oldest Daughter, just out of the driveway)

“I’m sure glad we’re travelling this morning instead of last night.”  (Me to Ordinary Spouse, as we made two effortless left turns  where I’d normally encounter great volumes of traffic during my morning commute)

Six minutes into the trip, we get on the “fast road” (the general nickname for limited access road, which in this case is I-55).  This is the signal for the girls to request a DVD.  In goes Fraggle Rock.

About fifteen minutes later, we’re onto I-355 and crossing the “blue light bridge” over the Des Plaines River.  McMansions overlook the valley on the south side.  I spout opinions… “If I had half a million dollars to buy a house, I’d get something with more character than these boxes.”

Shortly thereafter, I remember my blog… “If I could live blog this trip, I would.” Instead, I ask ordinary spouse if she has paper and pencil.  She anticipates my next request and writes, “My ordinary assistant will hand write the whole thing.”  I comment that “ordinary assistant” will probably get replaced by “smart-alecky assistant” when the notes make it into print.

“Could you give me blana?”  (Youngest Daughter woke up five minutes before we left and didn’t have breakfast.  Now she wants a banana.)

All along, I’m sipping coffee.  I’ve got a great thermos.  Too great.  The coffee is scalding hot nearly all the way.

Ordinary Spouse is cleaning out her purse.  She finds a diaper.

From I-355 to I-80.  The opening bars of U2’s “Zoo Station” (from the album, “Achtung Baby”) are playing as we’re exiting from one to the other.  Makes for a nice transition.

We see a white flag with a red border and a blue star.  Ordinary Spouse speculates that it’s a Czech flag.  Turns out that it’s a flag displayed by the family of a member of the armed services serving in a dangerous location.  We learned something new.

Shortly after getting on I-80, an alert Ordinary Spouse kept me from rear-ending another car.  The road was nearly empty and there was no one in my lane, so I reached for my coffee.  At the same moment, a car in the left lane braked and pulled into my lane.  Then they proceeded to the right lane and accelerated again.  Not sure what that was about.

We cruise through the IPASS lane when I-294 merges with I-80.  It occurs to us that we have no idea how much toll we’re actually paying.

The billboards along the interstate near the Illinois-Indiana border are really classy.  (“Gamble 30 minutes and get a free buffet” or “All of the liquor; none of the clothes”.)  Ordinary Spouse comments on the first one. “Sounds like  a gamble to me.”

We’ve removed Fraggle Rock, which didn’t seem to be a big hit.  It’s been replaced by the Laurie Birkner Band. “This is like a rock star for kids,” says Middle Daughter.

Rain, rain, rain.

Onto the Indiana Turnpike (I-80/I-90).  We immediately stop at a rest area.  Coffee’s coming through.

We debate the spelling of “niece”.  I comment on the weird spelling of “weird”.

We see a flock sheep walking in formation.  Then we see a sheep dog calmly standing and calling to them.  No running involved.  Impressive.

We reached the end of “Achtung Baby”.  I spout more opinions: what makes an album more than the sum of the parts, and why “Achtung Baby” is one of those albums.

We pass the pond with the big musical instruments.  Time to exit the Turnpike.  On to the bypass around South Bend.  Ordinary Spouse phones her parents and tries to make them believe we still have two hours to go.  Actually, we only have about 45 minutes – we’ll be just in time for Thanksgiving dinner.

Michael Card’s “Starkindler”  is now playing.

Ordinary Spouse and I discuss Richard Rohr and right brain/left brain duality.

Off of the bypass and on to US-33 toward Goshen.

In Goshen, we spot a couple running from their house to their car, carrying a turkey.  They didn’t cover the bird.  It’s raining.

And then, 150 miles and two and a half hours later, we’ve made it.

Thanks to God for every blessing in our lives.  May the thanks we give today continue throughout the year.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Candle making

I took today off and began the Thanksgiving holiday one day early today.  Our family was invited to a day of candle making at the home of couple from our congregation.  The wife teaches kindergarten and didn’t have today off, so the husband did all of the hosting today.  We had an awesome time.

One of the things that is really special is that our host is a good teacher, so he took the time to show the girls how to do things correctly and safely (hot wax on the stove).  Also, he has been making candles for forty years now, but he still enjoys seeing how each candle turns out.  His encouragement makes the girls feel proud of what they created.  Everyone enjoys the time.

(And a well-timed “Elmo’s World” on TV didn’t hurt when attention spans got a little short.  We spent the whole day!)

Anyway, here are the fruits of our labors today…

Ordinary Spouse made one; Middle Daughter, Youngest Daughter, and I each made two; and Oldest Daughter made four (and wanted to do more).  In addition, we made four other candles that are being used for Advent at church.  We dropped them off before we came home, so no pictures.

Here are my ordinary candles…

Note the deliberate choice of green for ordinary time.  Candles for contemplation.

On Thanksgiving eve, I’m thankful for my community, for friends, for other adults who care for my children.

Working on relationship

Rather than giving you random, disordered, and shallow thoughts today, I thought I’d suggest some really good reading:

“Walking With God – Why Is It So Hard?” by Christine Sine

In the past year, the importance of community and relationships has become a greater concern to me.  Christine’s thoughts provide some good insight into those things.  I encourage you to give it a read.

Turning the soil

We’ve had some really nice weather in the Chicago ‘burbs throughout this week and continuing today.  Although I had to put in a Saturday morning at work, I got home by early afternoon and (thanks to some prodding by Ordinary Spouse) was able to get out and enjoy it.

In our back yard, we have a small garden that OS tends.  There’s not much space, but I’m thankful for her efforts because the fruits of her labor add to our meals throughout the summer.  My favorite staples are probably tomatoes, cucumbers (which also show up as pickles), and arugula, but we get other things depending on which seeds in the catalog caught her fancy in January.  Turns out that this year we are still enjoying leeks and cilantro into mid-November.

Today, she wanted me to get the plot ready for winter (well – all except the patches of leek and cilantro) which consisted of taking down some rabbit fence, pulling some stakes, spreading some rich soil from our compost pile, and turning everything over just a bit.  I grumbled a bit as I was motivating my body out the door, but once outside the weather was so nice, and the work so rewarding, that I was thankful to be there.

Thanks to an Andrew Kreider song in my head, I got to thinking about the curse of the garden in Genesis.  Here are some excerpts from the song…

The soil in the garden, voluptuous and new
Bursting with promise and moist with the dew
Awakens in me the desire for you
To make me the work of your hand

We feasted that day without a care
Using spoonfuls of pepper that would singe your hair
A worm in my apple, breaking the curse
Renewing my love for the earth

“Our Souls Are Soil”
(from “Firebrands and Golden Strands)
by Andrew Kreider

Have you ever noticed in Genesis 3 that the curse is directed at the ground, and not at Adam?  And how in Romans, Paul says that “creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God”?  As my spade was breaking the ground, I was contemplating that line, “…breaking the curse, renewing my love for the earth”, and praying that God’s children would be a blessing to the ground.

In the chorus, Andrew’s song compares our own lives to the ground.  It’s rather profound:

Oh, our souls are soil.
Won’t you turn them gently?
Our souls are soil.
Won’t you turn them again?

If God the gardener is tending to the soil of my life, I hope there are some hot peppers planted.

Holy silliness

Each Wednesday, I meet with a group from my congregation for a weekly supper and prayer time.  Afterwards, I facilitate a group Bible study, although one could almost call it a second time of prayer.  We approach the scripture using lectio divina.

Last night, we were reflecting on Psalm 146.  I was drawn to this verse:

I will praise the Lord as long as I live;
   I will sing praises to my God all my life long.

(Psalm 146.2, NRSV)

and especially to the word ’sing’.  As I reflected on that word, I recalled an image of singing in my living room with my daughters.  I had my guitar hooked up to my amplifier, had some sound effects turned on (there’s one that the girls think sounds like an elephant), and we were having a grand time singing and dancing to some song that lends itself to enjoyment in that way.  The phrase ‘holy silliness’ seemed appropriate for the image that formed in my mind, and it stuck with me.  It wasn’t a phrase that I’d used before.

As I reflected more on ’sing’, I recalled other images of holy silliness.  The blessing that we say before mealtime often contains some, as does the music time that I do with pre-school children on Sundays.

As a result of these reflections, I am living with another verse for today:

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”

(Matthew 19.14, NRSV)

Emerging?

For about a year now, I’ve been hearing stories about this thing called “the emerging church”.  I think I first came across the term in an article when I was flipping through an issue of the Mennonite Weekly Review.  I remember reading the article, but I don’t think I really paid much attention to it – at least not until a friend, who was on her way to an emerging church conference, sent the article my way for a second time.  So I read it again.

To be honest, I didn’t understand what the big deal was.

My impression was that there was some group of Mennonites somewhere who were trying to live an authentically Christian life, trying to keep Christianity relevant to the 21st century, and forming ties with other Christians from outside the Mennonite tradition in order that they could learn from one another.  And I thought, “Good for them.  Whenever people are finding relevant  and vibrant ways to be Christ-like, I’m all for that.”

But I didn’t really understand why they thought that they (either these mennos or the others with whom they were forming ties) needed some new catchy label like “emerging” (and believe me – “emerging” is not the only catchy word being thrown around).

So my friend lent me a DVD of Richard Rohr, a Catholic priest and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation, speaking about the emerging church.  I must say that I was very favorably impressed, and it was my intent to blog about it.  Alas – it has now been too many months, and I can’t remember enough to say anything substantial.  However, it was my overall impression that Fr. Rohr did a good job of emphasizing how the Church tends to bicker over relatively minor things, while tending to neglect the important commonalities that we share.  He indicated that the emerging church isn’t trying to create new structures, but rather to reform the existing ones.  In addition, he developed some creative ways to go about doing Church that would redirect the emphasis toward our shared values.

This kind of speech is edifying, and I always appreciate those who can articulate a clear vision for grace-filled Christian community and mission.  And yet there was still a disconnect for me – what was special about what he was saying that it deserved to be a movement?

On a whim, I decided to purchase A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren* from the Laurelville gift shop one weekend when my family was there.  Brian begins the book by describing the many reasons why you shouldn’t read it.  This seemed to confirm my less charitable perceptions – that these “emergents” just liked to hear themselves talk.  Then Ordinary Spouse pointed out that I write the same way…

* I hope to provide a more in-depth look at this book sometime in the future.  However, given the speed at which I move, I was concerned that it might take me a year or two to get around to it.  So I decided to mention it in this post first.

So I slogged through that introductory chapter and made my way through the rest of the book.  Brian lays out a vision for what this emerging church might look like, and I began to understand the significance of the emerging movement…

(We interrupt this discourse to bring you a disclaimer.  The author of this post has read one book by Brian McLaren and started to read a second.  He has managed to read snippets of other authors who are considered to be “emerging”.  In addition, he has no first-hand experience with communities that identify themselves as “emerging”.  Furthermore, any halfway motivated person can see from a quick Google search that the range of ideas about what constitutes “emerging” is fairly broad.  Therefore, to claim to speak with any authority on the “significance of the emerging movement” is completely uncalled for.  It’s unwise.  It’s misguided.  It’s just plain stupid.  Here goes anyway.)

It seems to me that the emerging church is motivated by a desire to get back to the person of Christ, to understand who he is and how his message is relevant today, and then to live into that message.  And that’s important – to really apply the way of Christ to one’s approach to life now.  In some ways, this is a very Anabaptist thing to do.  Anabaptists have always been about the centrality of Christ.  And so, this explains some my initial ambivalence about the whole movement.  Parts of this thinking is not new to me.  In fact, it comes naturally, as I believe it would to people who value historical Anabaptism and who are wondering about its relevance for the future.  And as I’ve been reading, I’ve learned that this kind of thinking has brought about many connections between Anabaptists and the broader Church – the kind of connections that were mentioned in that Mennonite Weekly Review article.  Furthermore, this focus on living out the way of Christ is (as I understand it) a shift of sorts for some other Christian groups.

But if I’ve come to understand my initial, blasé reaction to the emerging church, I’ve also begun to understand how it informs (or reforms) my own Christian journey.  I talked above about a way of “thinking”.  In his book, Everything Must Change, Brian McLaren talks about “framing stories”.  These are the narratives that shape how we see the world, how we interact with it, and how we make decisions.  And one area where my framing story was incomplete and providing a mixed message was in my approach to scripture.  I was (and still am) influenced by a number of traditions: Anabaptist, of course, but probably also traditional protestant (whatever that is), evangelical, charismatic/pentecostal, and maybe even fundamentalist.  And it had become clear to me that these traditions weren’t always in agreement, weren’t always right, and were leaving me with an inconsistent approach to understanding the Bible.  It didn’t help that this wasn’t a topic that I thought much about during my time at Goshen (which is where I might have received some good guidance on the matter – but that’s another story).

Recently, I had come to a more comfortable place in my biblical understanding – one that averted a faith crisis of sorts – but it was still an uneven understanding.  However, when I read A Generous Orthodoxy, I encountered a subtle shift in interpretation, but one that (I think) will be life-giving and more holistic than my previous approaches.

Since I want to blog about that separately, I’m going to leave you wondering what I’m talking about.  Let me only say that a slight change in framing story or a small shift in the way that I read the Bible seems to have enormous possibilities for living out my life.  In some ways, I feel like I’ve been working on a puzzle.  I have all of the needed pieces in front of me, but all of a sudden I think I might have some sense of how to fit the pieces together to solve it.  Cool!

Another personal benefit is a new sense of the unity of the Church.  I’ve already mentioned that others were  building these bridges, but my reaction was rather “ho-hum”.  Now, however, I’m also getting excited by these ties.  Similarly, I gaining a greater appreciation for the strengths of various traditions.  (This was a major emphasis of A Generous Orthodoxy.)

One final benefit that I’ll mention is the encouragement that I receive when I witness how the emerging church lives out the way of Christ.  It is a generous way, filled with grace, humility, and hospitality.  There is so much for me to learn from it.

As an example, I’d like to point you to a story of someone who was denied communion when she went to visit her parents’ congregation.  The details aren’t given.  But look how her own congregation (a Lutheran group) responds when she returns home.  Now – my understanding of Lutheran eucharistic theology is that they consider the elements to contain the Real Presence of Christ.  This isn’t my understanding, but frankly, my understanding isn’t the point.  The point is that this person’s community saw a need and responded with grace.  And that is beautiful no matter what your theology is.  That’s the kind of Church that I want to be a part of.

Looking to the future, part 2

(Mister Guest Complacent left some nice questions for me after reading a recent post.  Rather than pondering them in the comments area, I thought I’d process them here…)

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Ah, the little questions of life. OS is quite right that one never knows where one will end up. Who would have figured 2 years ago that I’d be responding to you from the beach in Bali (insert comment about my lame beach activities here).

Ah – pastoral guidance from my own family.  Nice.  Since you already mentioned the beach activities, I don’t need to raise the issue of trusting the wisdom of someone who mixes your skin color with the sun. 

As one who did leave grad school for ministerial ambitions (a decision never regretted)…

I’m trying to recall how you processed the decision ahead of time, though.  (I remember some of the details regarding ‘where’ you processed – let’s leave those out.)  As for me, I know that I can question my motivations (good) or over-analyze (paralyzing).  However, at some very basic level, I know that I’ll (we’ll) know the choice when it arrives.  That allows me to be content, even in my impatience.  I value the Jesuit tradition of consolation/desolation.

There would be several comments I would make:  1) I never left that self-interest behind.

Yes, I realize that, which is why your current position seems obvious to me, although I don’t know Mrs.GC’s strengths well enough to know how they fit in exactly.  Processing the whole family thing might be a good topic of future conversation.

This has been an area of struggle, since there has always been a disconnect for me between faith and synchrotron science.  In hindsight, I might have chosen a more biological or environmental course of study after my time at Laurelville.  That’s wisdom to pass on to the next generation, at this point.

2) It was much easier to do as a single, even though the change was still tough.

In some ways, I’ve never been single when considering these decisions.  OS and I have been dating or married for over eighteen years.

3) There were more intermediary steps I could have taken that would have been less drastic.

I’ll pick up on this below.

4) Good lay ministry is just as important, or more so, than professional ministry.

Yes, I know.  And yet…  There is always the ‘and yet’.  I’m left with a sense of desolation.  (That sounds worse than it actually is.  Rather, there is an intuitive sense that I shouldn’t be surprised when the choice for professional ministry comes along – that I should expect it to come along.  I don’t know if that makes sense.)

Actually, come to think of it – I’d be very interested in exploring full-time lay ministry.  I’m just not sure who is doing that.

As I look back at #3…

I hear your wisdom on this point.  I have the opportunity now to explore questions about various options or choices.  I also have the chance to look at my own personality, weaknesses, strengths, and so forth.  As you noted – the issues I raised in the “Congregational update” post touch on all of the above.  And I can do all of this pondering without the pressure of an impending decision to be made.

All the best as you envision you bigger life picture and enjoy the ministry opportunities that arise and fill in that vision.

Thanks.  I imagine we’ll talk some more about this…