Israel Day 1

Originally written in May of 2014; published on December 31, 2014.

I'm sitting on the balcony of my 6th floor room at the King Solomon Hotel in Netanya. It is a hazy, pleasant morning on the Mediterranean Sea.  I don't think I've ever slept so well (although up and down as usual.) The sounds of the waves pulsing onto the shore are powerfully hypnotic.

We spent about 15 hours yesterday reaching this ancient land. It would seem the height of ingratitude to complain about cramping knees or restless legs, or about the length of time between meals or the sprint through the Philadelphia airport to m make the connection when I was wearing very non-sprinting sandals, so instead I will shout alleluia for traveling mercies and safe and uneventful flights and the miracle of aerodynamics that picks us up on one side of the ocean and deposits us on the other, time confused but intact.

Netanya is about an hour north of Tel Aviv.  Already I am beginning to appreciate that the tiny sliver of country on the map is actually a place about the size of New Jersey.  The city is surrounded by ancient places but is itself very modern, being built in the 1950's. This bit of incongruity is indicative of the country - ancient and timeless, and yet very much a land of the 20th century.

The New Pastor

August, 2014
I am entering into my third week as Senior Minister of First Christian Church in Olathe. I am sure that my mother is smiling down from heaven upon me --- she never did get the knack of the name of the denomination: Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). She proudly told all of her fellow Catholics that I was being ordained into the "First Christian Church" some 11 years ago. She had been raised in the First Christian Church, and so that's what they all were to her. So Mom -- I've finally arrived, after serving other Christian churches that weren't "First".

These first weeks have been a whirlwind of faces that have no names and names that have no faces. I'm slowly but surely matching them up. I have been very welcomed, and folks are kind enough to keep introducing themselves to me. But starting at a new church, leaving behind the certainty of knowing each and every name and face and, more importantly, each connection and quirk, is both exciting and draining. It's not as simple as getting Betty or John's name right. It's more about knowing that she has a sick husband or he is a recent widower or that there's been a feud between the church's version of the Hatfields and McCoys for nigh on to 30 years. Who is a Long Time Member (and how long is long?) and who is relatively new?

In worship I find myself checking the order of worship over and over -- not that it is so radically different than what I'm used to, but making sure that I'm going to be in the right place at the right time. The power went out in the church during the first hymn this Sunday, and my first thought was would I be able to wing my message without any notes. Fortunately, the lights (and ac!) came back within a couple of verses.

December 31, 2014
I find that I started this and did not post it. I'm making that resolution (again!) to try and develop this blog, so I'm going to post it 4 months later. I recognize more people at my church now; slowly but surely I'm learning the connections and the traditions. We've made some changes, and we've got more to make, but we are slowly becoming inextricably connected, the way pastors and congregation do.
I'm still the "New" pastor, but as we learn more and more about one another I will become one among the many faces hanging on the wall in the History room.

As I begin 2015

Tomorrow the calendar will read "2015". This is the year that Marty McFly of "Back to the Future 2" ventured to. It's the year that Doc changed the power for the DeLorean flying time machine from 1.2 gigawatts of electricity into garbage-powered Mr. Fusion. In 1989, when the movie was released, 2015 was merely a number. I calculated how old would I be in 2015, and I couldn't imagine being that old, (THIS old). What would my life be like in 2015? It turns out it is nothing at all like I would have expected.

Among the many unexpected circumstances of my life is my continued involvement with youth ministry. I'll be spending the first weekend of 2015 with a group of teenagers and young adults. I will easily be the oldest person in attendance at this weekend retreat. Many times in the last few years I have contemplated whether or not I'm too old to counsel such events. Surely there is a limit, right?

In contemplating this question, I ask my self: Do I meet the qualifications for a good counselor? I suppose that depends what qualities one feels are needed. Personally my list is pretty simple: 1. Put the kids needs before your own; 2. Provide a physically, emotionally and spiritually safe place for them; 3. Listen with a caring ear and offer helpful insights when asked for. I feel like I'm capable of meeting these three criteria, so I continue to serve.

I enjoy teenagers and young adults. Because ultimately, they are just folks. They have hopes and dreams and fears just like we do. They have not experienced as much of life as we have, but they are sometimes capable of insight and courage that we experienced folk can shy away from. They speak from a place of "unknowing", which allows them to not only think outside of the box, but to question the existence of the box. This can be a refreshing experience.

Someday I assume I will reach the limit. Someday perhaps I will not appreciate youthful exuberance or silliness. Someday I won't be able to relate to their latest "thing." (Snapchat could be my undoing, but I'm not giving up yet.) I am counting on my younger colleagues to tell me when I'm more of a burden than a help. But until then, I guess I'll keep saying 'yes' when I'm asked to be a part of these youth events. I know some amazing adults today that I first met when they were teens, and my life would be so much less rich if I did not know them.

CYF MidWinter....here I come.