Hey
I turned comments back on. That can mean one of a few things.....
1) I am interested in genuine response
2) I am ready to throw down
3) It just doesn't matter (thanks Bill Murray)
I am sure there are others, but (yes, you guessed it) 'it just doesn't matter.'
So bring it on. Let the comments begin.
R
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
"Maybe this will be different"
Remember Sesame Street? I loved it when I was little, and when I became a dad, I was excited to show this 'educational' TV show to my kids - for their benefit of course. A segment that continually appeared was, I think, called something like "one of there things is not like the other" = it showed 4 things and one didn't belong with the other three. The theme song was something like...
One of these things is not like the others
One of these things just doesn't belong
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song.
Somehow I keep getting invited to places where that song rings true.
A friend of mine invited me to a luncheon at a nice hotel in Downtown Portland. I wasn't too excited about going - knowing much of what this was probably about. But my friend asked and I said yes.
Finding a place to park, I headed to the Grand Ballroom - actually about 5 minutes early - where I was almost overwhelmed by the amount of blue suits and flashy ties. I felt somewhat under-dressed in my plaid shorts and black button up shirt, but at least I had worn socks with my Simples (great shoe company, check out their web site: www.simpleshoes.com).
True to the name, the ballroom was grand, the presentation striking and the light show effective. Even the chicken was tastily grilled.
I talked to some really cool people - cool for two reasons: 1) they are all about community development and transformation, and 2) they didn't let me stand alone counting the number of butter pad designs my table. Shortly after, my table started to fill up with people.
Great people who are authentic and leaders in more than their areas of influence.
In particular, at my table, sat Richard Twiss (www.wiconi.com). American Indian, husband, has 4 sons - all around awesome.
The tables were asked to talk about why we keep doing what we are doing and why we serve. I will never forget Richard Twiss' answer....
He talked about a town called Mission on his home reservation in South Dakota - a place all the religious organizations have set up shop. Each summer, with the influx of short term missionaries, the population grows from about 20,000 up to around 100,000 - and Richard said this has been going on for years. He then said, "Do you know what is different after the summer short-term teams have gone? Nothing."
The teams come in, do their thing and then go home. The result in Mission = teen suicide is highest in the nation. Abuse, alcoholism, drugs, neglect. Nothing changes.
Then he said, "Maybe this will be different. Because you live here, maybe this will be different."
So as a 'Season' (literally and figuratively) ends - even though I am not optimistic -
and we all continue to move through life right where we live, and work, and eat, and, well, you get the idea = Maybe this will be different.
One of these things is not like the others
One of these things just doesn't belong
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song.
Somehow I keep getting invited to places where that song rings true.
A friend of mine invited me to a luncheon at a nice hotel in Downtown Portland. I wasn't too excited about going - knowing much of what this was probably about. But my friend asked and I said yes.
Finding a place to park, I headed to the Grand Ballroom - actually about 5 minutes early - where I was almost overwhelmed by the amount of blue suits and flashy ties. I felt somewhat under-dressed in my plaid shorts and black button up shirt, but at least I had worn socks with my Simples (great shoe company, check out their web site: www.simpleshoes.com).
True to the name, the ballroom was grand, the presentation striking and the light show effective. Even the chicken was tastily grilled.
I talked to some really cool people - cool for two reasons: 1) they are all about community development and transformation, and 2) they didn't let me stand alone counting the number of butter pad designs my table. Shortly after, my table started to fill up with people.
Great people who are authentic and leaders in more than their areas of influence.
In particular, at my table, sat Richard Twiss (www.wiconi.com). American Indian, husband, has 4 sons - all around awesome.
The tables were asked to talk about why we keep doing what we are doing and why we serve. I will never forget Richard Twiss' answer....
He talked about a town called Mission on his home reservation in South Dakota - a place all the religious organizations have set up shop. Each summer, with the influx of short term missionaries, the population grows from about 20,000 up to around 100,000 - and Richard said this has been going on for years. He then said, "Do you know what is different after the summer short-term teams have gone? Nothing."
The teams come in, do their thing and then go home. The result in Mission = teen suicide is highest in the nation. Abuse, alcoholism, drugs, neglect. Nothing changes.
Then he said, "Maybe this will be different. Because you live here, maybe this will be different."
So as a 'Season' (literally and figuratively) ends - even though I am not optimistic -
and we all continue to move through life right where we live, and work, and eat, and, well, you get the idea = Maybe this will be different.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
how many pastors does it take
After sitting in the lobby of the car place (not it's real name) while someone with skills and good old fashioned know-how exchanged bad oil for good, it was time to lace up the boots.
I was headed to the Clergy Build Day with Habitat For Humanity.
If you're not familiar with HFH, you should be (more info about that later).
I drive to the site, thinking about how good I should be able to be at this since, as a former youth pastor, I have helped at least 4 times in my life with construction projects. Granted half of those were in another country where if it stands when you are done, cool.
In spite of my lack of experience with construction, I think I impressed them with my cool Danner boots.
They looked good with my shorts.
So, out of all the clergy invited, five of us showed up.
And in true church-type form, we had pizza.
Once the niceties were through and the we were fueled up with Round Table, we hit it. (pun intended)
I suppose there are a number of stories that could be elaborated upon (someone kept sharing their silent-but-deadly's, no one had any tools and when they told us what to get and where to get it, we had to ask what they were talking about, etc...) but I will only share one - and that one is simply a question...
How may pastors does it take to frame a small wall?
My answer, and it comes from at least one day's experience, is 5 pastors and 90 minutes.
Framing is more difficult than it appears, and keeping those nails going in the wood correctly is a hand-eye thing not learned turning the pages of a Bible. After hammering wood together, we were told that was wrong - oops - so we hammered it apart, ruining some of the wood along the way - then we finally finished it.
When all was done, it was really done by the HFH folk either doing it as we stood there holding the wood, or them standing over us as we almost break other stuff.
Basically, we followed them around carrying hammers and a weird rectangle pencil. They gave us a bumper sticker and a key chain.
As I headed for Starbucks it struck me how cool today really was - and I began to think about how more pastors should be out of the office, swinging a hammer, digging a ditch, eating donated Round Table, working up a good sweaty stink, and.....
I probably could have thought of more things to write but I had to order my beverage and get back to the office = there was 'real' ministry that needed to get done.
Interested in HFH? read on:
Habitat for Humanity International is a nonprofit, ecumenical Christian housing ministry. HFHI seeks to eliminate poverty housing and homelessness from the world, and to make decent shelter a matter of conscience and action.
Habitat invites people of all backgrounds, races and religions to build houses together in partnership with families in need.
Habitat has built more than 250,000 houses around the world, providing more than 1 million people in more than 3,000 communities with safe, decent, affordable shelter.
www.habitat.org
Right on.
It is awesome
I was headed to the Clergy Build Day with Habitat For Humanity.
If you're not familiar with HFH, you should be (more info about that later).
I drive to the site, thinking about how good I should be able to be at this since, as a former youth pastor, I have helped at least 4 times in my life with construction projects. Granted half of those were in another country where if it stands when you are done, cool.
In spite of my lack of experience with construction, I think I impressed them with my cool Danner boots.
They looked good with my shorts.
So, out of all the clergy invited, five of us showed up.
And in true church-type form, we had pizza.
Once the niceties were through and the we were fueled up with Round Table, we hit it. (pun intended)
I suppose there are a number of stories that could be elaborated upon (someone kept sharing their silent-but-deadly's, no one had any tools and when they told us what to get and where to get it, we had to ask what they were talking about, etc...) but I will only share one - and that one is simply a question...
How may pastors does it take to frame a small wall?
My answer, and it comes from at least one day's experience, is 5 pastors and 90 minutes.
Framing is more difficult than it appears, and keeping those nails going in the wood correctly is a hand-eye thing not learned turning the pages of a Bible. After hammering wood together, we were told that was wrong - oops - so we hammered it apart, ruining some of the wood along the way - then we finally finished it.
When all was done, it was really done by the HFH folk either doing it as we stood there holding the wood, or them standing over us as we almost break other stuff.
Basically, we followed them around carrying hammers and a weird rectangle pencil. They gave us a bumper sticker and a key chain.
As I headed for Starbucks it struck me how cool today really was - and I began to think about how more pastors should be out of the office, swinging a hammer, digging a ditch, eating donated Round Table, working up a good sweaty stink, and.....
I probably could have thought of more things to write but I had to order my beverage and get back to the office = there was 'real' ministry that needed to get done.
Interested in HFH? read on:
Habitat for Humanity International is a nonprofit, ecumenical Christian housing ministry. HFHI seeks to eliminate poverty housing and homelessness from the world, and to make decent shelter a matter of conscience and action.
Habitat invites people of all backgrounds, races and religions to build houses together in partnership with families in need.
Habitat has built more than 250,000 houses around the world, providing more than 1 million people in more than 3,000 communities with safe, decent, affordable shelter.
www.habitat.org
Right on.
It is awesome
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
a thought on its way.
My life is killer - and I mean that in the best way possible.
>I am married to an amazing woman (who happens to be beautiful).
>I have two sons who are incredible young men already - each in their very own and distinct
ways.
>My daughter has me so tightly wrapped around her finger that I will only pull her loose tooth out if she gives me the go ahead.
(And to be totally honest - I would rather hang out with them than anyone else. Let's say I had a chance to go surf the maldives and I could take anyone I wanted = my family. Then maybe a few buddies, and Tom Curren - I think we would have some really good conversations.)
>My job is to build relationships with people and connect with opportunities to serve and love the City - and then bring the two together.
>I live in a place my kids love (schools included). (I'm the field trip dad)
>I get to play the drums, drink coffee with folks of all kinds, surf with no crowds (COLD water) and .......
I could go on and on, but I won't.
Any way, here's the point:
I don't have much of anything to say,
and sometimes I grossly over-simplify things (even though I think I am waxing poetically) and I tend to wear my heart and my thoughts on my sleeve. That being said, I still think life should be shared as it is lived. So, as I move through whatever it is that is taking shape - whatever it may look/smell/be like - I will do my best to share it.
That being said, it won't always be a 'Lawrence of Arabia' or 'big/little C/c' - it may just be about how cool my family is, or how cold the surf was.
So here it goes.
Check back when you can - and if you know me, ask.
>I am married to an amazing woman (who happens to be beautiful).
>I have two sons who are incredible young men already - each in their very own and distinct
ways.
>My daughter has me so tightly wrapped around her finger that I will only pull her loose tooth out if she gives me the go ahead.
(And to be totally honest - I would rather hang out with them than anyone else. Let's say I had a chance to go surf the maldives and I could take anyone I wanted = my family. Then maybe a few buddies, and Tom Curren - I think we would have some really good conversations.)
>My job is to build relationships with people and connect with opportunities to serve and love the City - and then bring the two together.
>I live in a place my kids love (schools included). (I'm the field trip dad)
>I get to play the drums, drink coffee with folks of all kinds, surf with no crowds (COLD water) and .......
I could go on and on, but I won't.
Any way, here's the point:
I don't have much of anything to say,
and sometimes I grossly over-simplify things (even though I think I am waxing poetically) and I tend to wear my heart and my thoughts on my sleeve. That being said, I still think life should be shared as it is lived. So, as I move through whatever it is that is taking shape - whatever it may look/smell/be like - I will do my best to share it.
That being said, it won't always be a 'Lawrence of Arabia' or 'big/little C/c' - it may just be about how cool my family is, or how cold the surf was.
So here it goes.
Check back when you can - and if you know me, ask.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Notice the ‘C’ or the other ‘c’
I see him. There across the street – Lawrence of Arabia (see previous blog post) – wrapped in the same soaked sleeping bag, shuffling down the street. I have to admit that as I drove here (Peets Coffee) I scanned the streets looking for him. Was I hoping to find him and have another moment that pushed more clarity into my still hazy perspective and future? Was I secretly hoping I wouldn’t see him so the natural ‘what happened this time’ question could be avoided? I am actually not sure. And if I had to choose? To borrow from a friend and lead pastor – “It’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and.”
I can’t tell you how many times I have a conversation about my interaction with ‘Lawrence’ or how many times I think about our conversation… “yeah, I like it out here” set against the lyrics of the song as it screams to “piss it all away, flush it all away” – and I am on the way to the office, to take care of the church (Church?). Is that wrong? Should I forsake everything and become a Mother Teresa archetype? Should I go to the church (notice small ‘c’) and try to get the Church (notice big ‘C’) out of the church (notice small ’c’) and into the community in real, tangible and authentic relationships?
Again I borrow = “It’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and.”
At least, I hope that is true.
I spoke about leadership today to a group of Bible college students, profs and a dean. The things that came to the surface…Jesus came to serve (Mark 10:43-45), what matters? faith expressed in love (Gal. 5:6) and it is not easy but we keep going because of Christ. I talked about ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ and his life and impact on me – and then it happened. In reference to what the church spends much of its time doing and how little has changed in as long as I can remember (connecting Christians with other Christians to make us better Christians so our Christian stuff will be a better representation of being a Christian), I said, “What the h*ll are we doing?!” – I had prepared everyone to expect something like that, but that’s not what happened. What happened was what I didn’t expect to happen: my bottom lip quivered and my eyes tingled = I almost got emotional over a homeless guy, my job and the relationship of the Church with the community. Talk about a surprise. The last time I got emotional in front of a group of people was….. uh, it happened when I ….. , well you get the idea. Then, just as fast as it hit me, it was gone.
So what?
Well, I don’t really know, but I wonder…
>How many times did Jesus get emotional about people, His Church and the Community?
>Why does everyone know the shortest verse in the Bible is ‘Jesus wept?’
>How many of those same people know what He wept over?
>When was the last time we, the Church, wept about people – neighbors and strangers and nationals and family and …..?
>What is next? (people, place, effort, money, etc…)
So should I have cussed or should I have been more ‘in control’ – I think there is something good to be said about both. The dean told me I wasn’t going to get ‘in trouble’ and some students wanted my e-mail. They talked about bringing me back soon – time will tell. I guess that really, when all is said and done, “It’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and.”
I can’t tell you how many times I have a conversation about my interaction with ‘Lawrence’ or how many times I think about our conversation… “yeah, I like it out here” set against the lyrics of the song as it screams to “piss it all away, flush it all away” – and I am on the way to the office, to take care of the church (Church?). Is that wrong? Should I forsake everything and become a Mother Teresa archetype? Should I go to the church (notice small ‘c’) and try to get the Church (notice big ‘C’) out of the church (notice small ’c’) and into the community in real, tangible and authentic relationships?
Again I borrow = “It’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and.”
At least, I hope that is true.
I spoke about leadership today to a group of Bible college students, profs and a dean. The things that came to the surface…Jesus came to serve (Mark 10:43-45), what matters? faith expressed in love (Gal. 5:6) and it is not easy but we keep going because of Christ. I talked about ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ and his life and impact on me – and then it happened. In reference to what the church spends much of its time doing and how little has changed in as long as I can remember (connecting Christians with other Christians to make us better Christians so our Christian stuff will be a better representation of being a Christian), I said, “What the h*ll are we doing?!” – I had prepared everyone to expect something like that, but that’s not what happened. What happened was what I didn’t expect to happen: my bottom lip quivered and my eyes tingled = I almost got emotional over a homeless guy, my job and the relationship of the Church with the community. Talk about a surprise. The last time I got emotional in front of a group of people was….. uh, it happened when I ….. , well you get the idea. Then, just as fast as it hit me, it was gone.
So what?
Well, I don’t really know, but I wonder…
>How many times did Jesus get emotional about people, His Church and the Community?
>Why does everyone know the shortest verse in the Bible is ‘Jesus wept?’
>How many of those same people know what He wept over?
>When was the last time we, the Church, wept about people – neighbors and strangers and nationals and family and …..?
>What is next? (people, place, effort, money, etc…)
So should I have cussed or should I have been more ‘in control’ – I think there is something good to be said about both. The dean told me I wasn’t going to get ‘in trouble’ and some students wanted my e-mail. They talked about bringing me back soon – time will tell. I guess that really, when all is said and done, “It’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and.”
Here's why I started a blog
Welcome
Here is what is pushing me to blog....(sorry it's long - I'll work on that)
So I had something pop in my heart and head today that I am still trying to get a clear perspective on. I spoken about twice with different people and it is not much clearer than when I began. So here it is – for you to read and digest and ___________ (you fill in the blank).
A few weeks ago: I went to the Portland Homeless Connect at the Convention Center – incredible opportunity to receive assistance and tangible help (everything from dental and vision to identification cards and clothing, even temporary housing). I left and went to grab a slice at my bro-in-law’s NE Broadway and 15th Schmizza. I passed a homeless guy – hoping he wouldn’t ask me for anything – but then I was drawn back to him to tell what was happening at the convention center. I did, he smiled, and we went our separate ways.
Today: I am stopping by NE Broadway and 15th Peet’s for a beverage and maybe a new insulated cup – one that will fit in the cup holders of my ‘new-to-me’ car. As I find a place to park, there is the same homeless dude – right there where I am parking. I contemplate ‘making a phone call’ and looking the other way, but choose to get moving instead. As I get out of my car, the homeless dude looks, recognizes me and says “hey, man” in a friendly I-remember-you manner.
I say hello and ask him if ever went to get some help that day we talked. He said he got some food, and could I get him some orange juice. At that moment I was suspended among a few things: he smelled worse than any other human I have ever encountered; do I do this when I know he gets cash thrown his way constantly (he buys pizza from my bro-in-law); how does this help?
So I get him OJ and he says thanks. I encourage him to watch for the next Portland Homeless Connect…”unless you want to be out here (on the street)” – he smiles, laughs a little, looks me in the eye and honestly says he likes being out here. I ask him his name, “Lawrence of Arabia” and he opens the drenched sleeping bag he is wrapped in – letting out the combined smell of dirt, urine, feces – and extends a hand to me. What do I do? He is without a doubt the worst smelling human I have ever been around, his fingernails are surrounded in black sick crud, he is covered in filth – so I take his hand, shake, look in his eye and tell him that I’m ‘Randy of Portland’ – he smiles and says see ya around.
I go wash my hand, get my beverage and try to not walk to close to him as I head back to my car – which I still don’t have a good coffee cup for (perspective).
I am perplexed, but I have to get to the office – there are things to get done, phone calls to make, schedules to prepare, needs to be met, etc…. As I reflect on the experience I am drawn towards the loud rockin’ music whose singer is saying ‘he wished the world would be destroyed, we’re all idiots and deserve to drown and that God is stupid.’ = He probably wrote those lyrics in a sweet hotel room or a killer house, or maybe he wrote it when he crashed his $500,000 car into a wall because he was drunk – you get the picture.
What a perspective.
I just talked with, and then still tried to avoid, a homeless dude that likes where he is at (remember his smell and clothes), while I drove my nice car to a good job while the band sang about how lame God and the world are.
How does this all fit together? I don’t really know.
But it has impacted my perspective.
This really needs to be more a conversation than a reading. Both conversations I have had have been much clearer than this attempt to write a ‘short’ e-mail.
Trying to not be busy,
Randy
Here is what is pushing me to blog....(sorry it's long - I'll work on that)
So I had something pop in my heart and head today that I am still trying to get a clear perspective on. I spoken about twice with different people and it is not much clearer than when I began. So here it is – for you to read and digest and ___________ (you fill in the blank).
A few weeks ago: I went to the Portland Homeless Connect at the Convention Center – incredible opportunity to receive assistance and tangible help (everything from dental and vision to identification cards and clothing, even temporary housing). I left and went to grab a slice at my bro-in-law’s NE Broadway and 15th Schmizza. I passed a homeless guy – hoping he wouldn’t ask me for anything – but then I was drawn back to him to tell what was happening at the convention center. I did, he smiled, and we went our separate ways.
Today: I am stopping by NE Broadway and 15th Peet’s for a beverage and maybe a new insulated cup – one that will fit in the cup holders of my ‘new-to-me’ car. As I find a place to park, there is the same homeless dude – right there where I am parking. I contemplate ‘making a phone call’ and looking the other way, but choose to get moving instead. As I get out of my car, the homeless dude looks, recognizes me and says “hey, man” in a friendly I-remember-you manner.
I say hello and ask him if ever went to get some help that day we talked. He said he got some food, and could I get him some orange juice. At that moment I was suspended among a few things: he smelled worse than any other human I have ever encountered; do I do this when I know he gets cash thrown his way constantly (he buys pizza from my bro-in-law); how does this help?
So I get him OJ and he says thanks. I encourage him to watch for the next Portland Homeless Connect…”unless you want to be out here (on the street)” – he smiles, laughs a little, looks me in the eye and honestly says he likes being out here. I ask him his name, “Lawrence of Arabia” and he opens the drenched sleeping bag he is wrapped in – letting out the combined smell of dirt, urine, feces – and extends a hand to me. What do I do? He is without a doubt the worst smelling human I have ever been around, his fingernails are surrounded in black sick crud, he is covered in filth – so I take his hand, shake, look in his eye and tell him that I’m ‘Randy of Portland’ – he smiles and says see ya around.
I go wash my hand, get my beverage and try to not walk to close to him as I head back to my car – which I still don’t have a good coffee cup for (perspective).
I am perplexed, but I have to get to the office – there are things to get done, phone calls to make, schedules to prepare, needs to be met, etc…. As I reflect on the experience I am drawn towards the loud rockin’ music whose singer is saying ‘he wished the world would be destroyed, we’re all idiots and deserve to drown and that God is stupid.’ = He probably wrote those lyrics in a sweet hotel room or a killer house, or maybe he wrote it when he crashed his $500,000 car into a wall because he was drunk – you get the picture.
What a perspective.
I just talked with, and then still tried to avoid, a homeless dude that likes where he is at (remember his smell and clothes), while I drove my nice car to a good job while the band sang about how lame God and the world are.
How does this all fit together? I don’t really know.
But it has impacted my perspective.
This really needs to be more a conversation than a reading. Both conversations I have had have been much clearer than this attempt to write a ‘short’ e-mail.
Trying to not be busy,
Randy
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