I Think I'm Supposed To Go There

I had a lofty goal in confirmation on Wednesday night. We talked about the Ten Commandments, something that deserves more than a chaotic half hour at a time. We went down the list rewriting them, turning prohibitions into affirmations and affirmations into prohibitions:

You shall have no other gods. -> I'm the only god you need and I want you all to myself.

Honor your father and mother. -> Do not slam your bedroom door in your parents' faces.

There were plenty of right answers. Some had their Lutheran Handbooks open and were cleverly throwing around words like "integrity" and "monogamy". The more we talked about the commandments - rephrasing them and wondering about them - the more we realized that these rules weren't made just to annoy and constrain us. They don't simply tell us what to do, but illustrate who God wants us to be.

Courageous. Peaceful. Kind. Honest. Respectful. Patient. Prayerful. Faithful. Satisfied.

It felt like a victory because we got that far, regardless of whether or not they retained this Vocation 101 lesson. There was laughter as they tried to figure out the grammatical patterns and learned new words. But these weren't the only reasons I went home smiling.

As they scrambled out for small groups, one bright eyed girl approached. "Ms. Meta? Um. I was wondering if you could tell me what seminary is like because I think I'm supposed to go there."

Awesome. Because I, too, was nurtured and called by this congregation I knew what to do.

I knew to keep in conversation with her, to put a bug in each pastors' ear, to make sure she is invited to Previews. I'm looking forward to this - teaching the world about the deep value of vocation and the difference between what we do and who we are. I'm looking forward to telling young people that I see their eyes light up with passion and that I notice the strengths God has given them.

For now I look more like them than their parents and feel no shame in admitting that their fabulous, answerless questions are bigger than me and seminary. If nothing else, I can show kids that pastors get zits, Hebrew is cool, and you don't have to have all the answers about God to serve him.

How do you affirm God's call in the lives of young people - in your family, in your church, in your community?

Recommended for endorsement*

I wasn't sure whether to bring this up on the blog since I really don't want to be Johnny Toots-His-Own-Horn, but there really isn't much else exciting going on — except midterms, of course — so, here goes.

Everybody, I've been recommended for endorsement.*

I'd better explain that. Today and tomorrow, various members of various candidacy committees from various synods of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America are visiting campus at Luther Seminary to conduct various interviews. Today, I had the pleasure of sitting down with my faculty adviser and two members of the multisynodical candidacy committee that includes my synod, the East Central Synod of Wisconsin. This was an endorsement interview. Students who have already been "entranced" as candidates for ordained or other ministry are up for endorsement after the equivalent of one year of full-time seminary study. In the endorsement interview, the panel made up of the student's adviser and candidacy committee members considers the student's understanding of his or her call to ministry, spiritual growth and faith commitment, educational and theological wisdom and personal and interpersonal skills.

Now, that sounds like a lot of technical, procedural stuff, and it is. But my endorsement interview was about 28 times more fun than I thought it was going to be. All three members of the panel were great to talk with, and I really enjoyed reflecting on how I've grown since beginning seminary. They even said some nice stuff about me. Then I stepped out of the room, stood around for a while, came back in and learned that they recommended me for endorsement.* I should finally explain the asterisk. This recommendation is contingent on me completing Clinical Pastoral Education, which I'm now all but officially lined up to do this summer. The panel's recommendation goes before the full candidacy committee in about six weeks. At that point, assuming the committee confirms the endorsement, I'm not only affirmed in my potential for ordained ministry but also eligible for internship next year.* Whee!

Now, for some people, this is just hoop-jumping, but, for me, it's hoop-loving. There are a whole bunch of other Luther Seminary students who are going through the endorsement interview today and tomorrow, and I pray that each of them has an experience as positive as mine. The real highlight for me came after the interview, when Pastor Sue, my contact person from the candidacy committee, recalled how nervous I was when I first met with her almost two years ago. I had been nervous about whether I could be as good of a pastor as my dad. Today, Pastor Sue said, it was clear that I was developing my own pastoral identity. That meant a lot. I don't think I've ever been as excited about becoming a pastor as I am today.*

Wait a minute. Why was there an asterisk behind that?
Oh, yeah. I can't be all that excited for long — midterms are coming up.

P.S. Here's a photo that is largely unrelated to today's interview (it would have been kind of weird to stage a photo with my panel). It's a picture of my Grandma Gladys and Grandpa Don on the weekend before last, when Tracy and I were visiting Green Bay. It was four weeks to the day that my grandpa had his very scary fall down the stairs. He's at home now, doing well, although his memory so far isn't quite what it used to be — he was without oxygen for more than five minutes, so it's all still really miraculous. Anyway, this was just before my grandparents finally ate the 55th anniversary cake they got at the hospital. It's got to be the cutest picture I've ever seen, so I wanted to share it with you all. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Thanks be to God.

The Family Historian

I am fortunate to have a large extended family. As a child I saw relatives often because we lived in the same city. On my mother’s side of the family, my siblings and I addressed our cousins who were old enough to be our parents as Aunt and Uncle. One of the out of town uncles visited at least twice a year and among all the uncles—all of whom were great storytellers—I loved to hear Uncle Jeff’s stories the most. I thought of him as sophisticated, wise and charming.

My family and I are indebted to Uncle Jeff for seeking to tell the story of our family. Inspired by Alex Haley’s Roots, he became our “Self-Appointed Family Historian.” He interviewed family members and conducted research. From his effort he produced a 13 page document. Alhough it was not a lengthy document, it chronicled four generations of the family and described the family’s experience in the southern United States and their eventual migration to the Midwest. Because I am a packrat, I still have a yellowed copy of the document he prepared. In it I read that when he wrote it he had me and my generation of the family in mind. He wrote it so that we would, “continue to search for truth and go faster and farther that the last generation.”

On Monday my family and my uncle’s friends gathered to celebrate his life. At his homegoing services many shared stories about him: proud US Air Force veteran, volunteer, loving father, committed church member, and befriender of everyone he met. Had I attended the services I would have added that he was an inspiration and I am grateful for the history he gathered with me in mind.

Trepidation as a Prospective Member of the Luther community

Hello, I am soon to be a member of the so-called Luther Seminary community. I am not entirely sure what to expect from this experience. Will I be accepted for who I am? I wonder too if I’ll really learn what I need to learn to make a go of it in my vocation. I feel called to arrive here and called to explore God’s claim on my life in baptism, but it’s cold in Minnesota and where I’m coming from is pretty warm by comparison. I wonder if the food will be any good compared to home? And will I be able to access the ‘creature comforts’ I enjoy where I’m now living? I hear seminary can be a lot of navel gazing and I’m not sure if I’m entirely ready for that yet. I honestly have not spent much time pondering that one. And what if I fall down regularly, I mean with the ice and snow and hills around campus? What I’m trying to say is that there is a lot of discernment going on for me and if you’re considering coming to Luther Seminary to pursue a call in some form of ministry or another, you may have many of the same questions that I do.

I, however, am a fetus. Brian and Natalie are expecting me around November 20th but I’m full term on Tuesday so it could be any day. Then we’ll see about doing some discernment Luther style.

Josh Josh Josh Joshy Josh

My best friend is coming to visit this Thursday and his name is Josh. He’s flying in from Seattle with his wife, Callie, and will be hanging out with us for a week. My kid is named for him and I owe a debt of wisdom, knowledge, and irreverence to him so large for equity I’d need to offer him one of my two, well let’s go with lobes of my brain, yes lobes of my brain (or maybe I have more than two? Lobes I mean). Regardless of how many I have, I am quite excited about his impending arrival.

A mutual acquaintance of ours, one who is wont to refrain from vocalizing words but takes to the pen with great frequency, once wrote out, “Josh Josh Josh Josh Joshy Josh,” and with a wide grin gave it to Josh. That’s how I feel today. So overcome with giddy anticipation that I can’t think of anything to say or write but Josh. That word bears the meaning of accompaniment (through depression at different times for both of us), laughter (mostly at ourselves and the particular size/shape/color of our navels), shared grief (family loss) and anger (the day we shouted expletives, sitting in a car at Tully’s Coffee in Issaquah, at the radio man who announced President Bush’s decision to attack Iraq), joy (he’s Toby’s godfather), and the mundane (4:30 am opening shifts slinging espresso and holiday gift packs filled with chocolate covered cranberries that make you say, “yum, that was a good holiday”)

Now that my family and I left Seattle and Josh, we’re here at Luther Seminary and will very soon be leaving again first for internship and then for first call (presumably). And then maybe I’ll get to see Josh twice a year for a week while serving a congregation who-knows-where. Not to mention the relationships we’ve rekindled and established while spending years here. Is that crazy? Is it wise for us to be scattered far apart from each other? Well, you’ll make new friends and have text-reading groups to join with other pastors. Will I? Maybe. Well, your common vocation and the mission of the church will bind you together in solidarity. Will it? Ok. Well, you’ll be tested in the fires of loneliness and isolation. Well alright then. Well, you’ll have your spouse to be supportive. Good, because I know she was hoping to be my only friend. Well, you’ll have plenty of work to keep you busy anyway. Oh yeah, ok.

Josh is coming to visit. Josh Josh Josh Josh Joshy Josh.

Wendell Berry

As a theologian and environmentalist, I can't decide which to love more: Wendell Berry himself or loving to love Wendell Berry. Very trendy, indeed.

Tonight I am reading an article he wrote in Christian Century, September 2005 called The Burden of the Gospels for one of my classes. He wonders if we aren't a little too confident in our understanding of the gospels and, for that matter, our understanding of ourselves in faith.

It is much easier to parade around with concrete answers because they seem to settle the matters that worry us most. This authority can give us comfort when God seems too big, too gracious, too...beyond us. If we were taught this method in seminary, an MDiv degree wouldn't take four whole years. It isn't taught, but it's a nasty habit we slip into when feeling insecure about God's will or overwhelmed by the world.

I commend this article to anyone who deeply wonders:

1. "If you had been living in Jesus' time and had heard him teaching, would you have been one of his followers?"
2. "Can you be sure that you would keep his commandments if it became excruciatingly painful to do so?"

My knee-jerk answer to both is, "but of course". Unless I sit with these questions and allow them to tangle my worst habits with my best intentions, I am wrong. Unless I dare to be brutally honest, I cannot admit the difficult things God is calling us to and the countless ways I fail.

But once I stop wincing and open my eyes to this simple truth, I am freed from the answers I've created and the desperate attempts I've made to be right. It's exhausting trying to be in charge and conquering the tough questions. Maybe because that isn't my job.

"Meanwhile, may heaven guard us from those who think they already have the answers."

Three Amigos

My brothers thought I was kidding. That’s all you want for your birthday?

It’s another year in transition, which means I’ve been packing and unpacking boxes for a few months now. Clothes, books, junk, stuff. Living like a nomad has erased my desire to make a birthday list like I did when I was little. Now it's less about the getting and more about the doing.

Sure, there are things I want – an iPod, a shopping spree, a lifetime membership at Chipotle. Mmm. Chipotle. But there are things I need – new brakes for my car, an eye appointment and new lenses, the discipline to keep my student debt as low as possible.

None of the wants could outweigh my want and need for a dance with each of my brothers this weekend. We spent Saturday and Sunday together for a family wedding in Duluth – dancing, laughing, eating and catching up. On the dance floor they confided about girls or vocation and I admitted that I’ve been listening to country music since returning from internship. (A true confession where Gabe and Bror are concerned.)

Our best audience - those who think we're funniest and those who hold us accountable - is each other. We got the giggles (and I got hiccups) and then we ordered sandwiches from the hotel. That was the best present they could have given me – some time together as we continue becoming grown ups. It was a moment in our chaotic lives when clearing a weekend and having a dance was trump.

The too-busy-to-blog ABCs

There's an expectation here at Life at Luther for each of us four bloggers to generate at least one entry per week. It's been well more than a week since my last entry. You see, with so much other stuff on my plate right now, I haven't had time to even consider what I might blog about if I had the time to blog. So, rather than waiting another week-plus to finally write something coherent, I figured I should instead quickly string together some random stuff. And just to make sure it's not completely random, I'll write it up ...

• Alphabetically. I like the Alphabet. It really beats the Dewey Decimal System. In fact, even the classification system that they use at Luther Seminary's library beats the Dewey Decimal System.
• Bed sounds really good right now. Lately, I'm daily facing that classic battle of "bed or coursework?" When it gets as late as it is right now (1 a.m.), bed usually wins. Tonight, blog wins. Blog starts with a B, too.
• Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) is a thing that Master of Divinity students have to do at some point, typically before internship. Each student serves at a hospital or other care facility as training for pastoral care. I have spent much of the last week applying and interviewing for CPE sites in the Twin Cities. I couldn't get a CPE site last summer, which was a bummer. Hey, that rhymed.
• Dumb idea. This was a dumb idea. Now I have to come up with another 22 of these!
  
• Endorsement interviews are coming up in less than two weeks. This is when members of my synod's Candidacy Committee come up to the seminary and, along with my faculty adviser, interview me to see if I'm cut out for internship next year. I already have my shirt and tie picked out.
  
• Football suddenly got less fun since the Packers lost to the Bears on Sunday night. Sad.
  
• Gnosticism. A great heresy of the early Christian church. Dr. Paulson told us in class today (well, now it's yesterday) that people who like "Lost" or "Survivor" are Gnostics inside because both TV shows involve the pursuit of an escape from the current, problematic existence, much as Gnostics have looked to Jesus merely as a way to escape from their earthly existence into their glorious destiny. I guess I'm a big-time Gnostic because I like both of those shows. At least Dr. Paulson didn't say anything about ...
  
• "Heroes." The other show I watch. Sadly, it hasn't been all that good this season.
  
• Internship application. That took up a lot of my time last week. So many applications.
  
• Jesus. My favorite third of the Holy Trinity.
  
• Kevin Federline. Not my favorite third of the Holy Trinity.
  
• Library of Congress Classification. Turns out that's the system that the seminary's library uses. How about that? Still better than Dewey.
  
• Minnesota went smoke-free statewide recently. That, my friends, is awesome.
  
• Neil Diamond. Dude really knew how to crank out a song.
  
• Oil change. I had to get one on Tuesday. That ate up some more of my time.
• Payaso. One of the few Spanish words I know. It means clown. I told Tracy a couple weeks ago that it would be fun to open a Mexican restaurant called Payaso Zapato. That would mean "clown shoe." The restaurant probably wouldn't last long once word got out that I used the two Spanish words I know in the wrong order.
  
• Quotidian. Means "daily." That's actually English. A guest lecturer used the word repeatedly on Wednesday. Dr. Padgett told me what it meant afterward, at the free community lunch.
  
• Rice. That's pretty much all I ate at the free community lunch. That and some bread.
  
• Sharkleberry Fin. The most obscure Kool-Aid flavor ever. I completely forgot about it until several months ago when I went Googling for Purplesaurus Rex. Now there's a flavor I'll never forget. Would have gone well with the rice and bread.
  
• Tom is the name of a good buddy from my days at the Green Bay Press-Gazette. He e-mailed me yesterday to tell me he was just catching up on my blog. He complimented me on the one about the Arcade Fire concert. I told him that sadly, I didn't write that one. Tom did mention that he liked another entry (one that I did write), which he lauded for its "classic Behrendt randomness." Tom should really like this one.
  
• Utinni. That's not Spanish or English. That's the word that the little Jawas shout in the "Star Wars" movies.
• Vanna White is now in her 25th year of turning the letters on "Wheel of Fortune." Tracy and I like watching the show while we eat dinner (... and, you know, let me think ... yep, it's Gnostic.) Anyway, um, It's not really necessary for her to be on the show these days since she doesn't actually turn the letters anymore. She just kind of touches them, and I'm pretty sure the new technology doesn't really require that. But I suppose if she weren't there to hold things together, Pat Sajak would lose all restraint from covertly mocking the contestants. (Great example from a recent show: An especially exuberant contestant tells Pat, "And I have a wonderful husband ... ." And Pat says, "Yeah, he'd pretty much have to be.")
  
• Why am I up so late? Well, I got the privilege of proofreading Luther Seminary's annual report as part of my job with the seminary's Communication Office. It's quite a document. And let me tell you: You're going to hate yourself if you don't pick up a copy of this thing. The articles were good, but I especially like the colorful pie charts.
  
• Xylophone. I used to play it, among other percussion instruments, in high school. I haven't done much with musical instruments since then. Although, last week, I made a somewhat foolish proposal to Dr. Skinner to write and record five songs about apostolic miracles in lieu of a final paper for my Acts class. Anybody got a cell number for Neil Diamond?
  
• Yawn. It's really late. I'm getting tired. I hope someone appreciated ... that I went out of my way to ... squeeze out a blog entry at this ... late hour of ...
  
• ZZzzzzzzzzzzzz
  

Sunday, October 7, 2007 I had an opportunity to do something I don’t do very often: preach.

Such opportunities come my way about four to five times a year. This is often enough that I have become confident and comfortable in the pulpit. After all, I have completed the junior and middler preaching courses here at Luther and other courses and I am building a solid set of skills for preaching (and a small library of resources to aid in preaching).

Still, when I stood at the pulpit on Sunday morning I stood on wobbly legs. My legs were wobbly, I think, because it is a really big deal to study a text on behalf of a group of people and ask God to reveal how this text is relevant.

I like to carry the texts around with me and read the text several times over the course of the week. As I read it in different locations and at different times of the day, different aspects of the text catch my attention. By Friday evening and Saturday morning hopefully I have completed a preaching worksheet I adapted from Thomas’ book, They Like to Never Quit Praisin' God: The Role of Celebration in Preaching. Before I complete the worksheet, I use the skills Shore outlined at http://www.readnew.net/. After these steps I begin to write the sermon and at the top of the manuscript I write a focus and function statement that keeps me on course. I really get worked over in the sermon preparation process. By the time I am done preaching, I am exhausted AND very satisfied.

My legs were not wobbly because of fear of how the congregation would receive me—I looked from pew to pew and saw many engaged and supportive faces. I am fortunate that they are a vocal bunch and their “amens” and other responses contributed much. They hung in there as I connected the music of Bruce Hornsby and RUN DMC and texts from Habakkuk and Luke. Trust me, something wonderfully mysterious happened and it all came together.

I Approve

Today has been "Faculty Approval Interview Day" on my calendar for weeks now, but I just took a walk that changed that.

I'm beginning down the approval road, which is the last leg of the candidacy journey. For three years we've been writing essays and interviewing with representatives from our home synods. They're checking in with our academic, spiritual, psychological and vocational standing and marking the journey with club jargon like "entrance", "endorsement", "approval", "application for restriction" and "assignment". It's exciting and strange. Let the madness begin (or continue).

So today I met with two members of the faculty to talk about my most recent and final essay for the candidacy process. Before we gathered, I re-read my work from five weeks ago. There were things I wished to change and others that should have been highlighted further, but the damage was done. This first interview of the year was a pleasant capstone to my relationship with my advisor and a new faculty member. We wandered back through my time at Luther and puzzled about things to come. It was casual and supportive after so much build up!

The weather is beautiful today and a weekend of rain looms, so I skipped the gym and the library after our meeting and headed home. I changed into my favorite lounging around clothes and put on my trusty flip flops. It would take almost two hours, but I was determined to run all my errands on Grand Avenue on foot in honor of the warm breeze.

I wandered in and out of stores finding what I needed: prescriptions, food, stamps and ideas for wedding invitations. The leaves are perfect - most rattle in the wind from their branches but they are falling and crunching under foot as well. My hands were full when I smelled a familiar scent from high school.

THE GRAND OLE CREAMERY. Mmmm. I hadn't been inside in years (a date in college?), but nothing had changed. I creeped up to the counter and ordered the old standard: peppermint bon bon in a sugar cone. That will be three-forty.

My father's voice (three forty for that little ice cream cone??) was muffled by my instant gratification and the sound of five boys shuffling in for sodas. They looked like they were in sixth grade, so they're probably in eighth - that wonderful year when most boys' voices quiver and crack before officially dropping. I stood watching them pay for their drinks and then, like little men, discussing which girls at school had already fallen for them. Studs.

And then I walked home by the shops and traffic and runners and friends and couples canoodling at tables outside coffee shops. I walked by the law school and students hustling about, then the convent and nuns raking leaves. And before I put my key in the door, I apologized to my flip flops. They have seen warm air and my feet for almost 18 months straight now. Soon they'll disappear under my bed or in a closet away from Grand Avenue.

Today was "Faculty Approval Interview Day". But now its either "Flip Flop Appreciation Day" or "God Bless Peppermint Bon Bon Day". Or maybe all of the above.

How the church must change or die, or, What I learned at the ministry conference I went to, I mean Arcade Fire show

Sunday night, Josh and Matt took me on a date. Not your usual sort of date, no candles, dinner, opera. No, this time, they took me to a rock show. Arcade Fire and LCD Soundsystem were playing Roy Wilkins in St. Paul and we joined in the several thousand strong in experiencing the transcendent joys of music, corporately with strangers as well as live and loud.

At one point while we waited in the foyer with our glasses of wine, Matt turned to me, pointed to the entrance through which we'd just come and said, "Look at these people. They look so happy." I turned and noticed the glee and pleasure emitting from their faces. "Why isn't church like this?" I asked myself. Over the next several hours, Arcade Fire answered that very question and has set me on a new course in my ministry. The scales have fallen from my eyes and I see the way forward in mission. I feel a new dawn dawning on the dawn of a new generation, waiting to be transformed by the powerful message of the church. But how to reach this new generation? Thanks to Win Butler and company I have some ideas.

Loud music. Why DON'T we turn it up and let the congregation be thrilled to gleeful bits over their reverberating chests? In the words of Chuck D, "Turn it up, bring the [gospel] noise."

Lots of lights. I'm as big a fan of the eternal candle as anyone, but how's about we throw up a load of eternal lights, buzzin and whirring all around the sanctuary?

Digital samples. Remember when your grandparents protested the gut-bucket entering the sanctuary? Then your Carpenters-loving mom couldn't stand the sight of a drum kit next to the pulpit. Well, now those who stand in the way of the gospel in the church today refuse to acknowledge the importance of digital music for today's worshipper. "The times they are a changing," baby boomer and sometimes Christian Bob Dylan once said. He was right about digital worship music.

Appendage throwing. At a rock show do you ever see someone with their face in a worship resource? No. They've got body parts flailing and they are authentic. Yeah, authentic.

Opening acts. Why not let a juggler or comic do a bit before the worship service? I was seated next to an LCD Soundsystem fan who'd never heard of Arcade Fire but came for the opener. Guess what? After the show, he bought the latter's new record. See the parallel? I thought you would.

Obtuse lyrics. I'm as Lutheran as they come regarding the issue of proclaiming the gospel to each other in our hymnody (thanks Gracia). But, you should see how many people love this band while their lyrics are vague enough for each person to fill them with their own meaning. Each of their full-length albums have nearly sold 500,000 copies apiece. What do you say to that Paul Gerhardt?

Charging money. Thousands showed up for an event that cost them between $35 and $75. How many more would come to church if we charged? It's that marketing truth that people don't trust free things. If it's $1.50 for a file folder or $2.75, most people are going to buy the more expensive file folder. Are we this dense? Have we never shopped at Target.

Television screens. Throughout the show, Arcade Fire had images of themselves, as well as obscure visual references, thrown up in pixels. This heightened the reaction of the crowd and no doubt brought the message home with greater power.

The lessons rock and roll shows have to teach us are more I'm sure but this will suffice for now.