Approaching Creation Care with Caution

     This week I wrap up a three-week Sunday school module on "The Christian Response." We are asking the question, "Jesus is risen, so now what?"
    My response to this question has always been pretty simple. We respond to God's grace in our lives by witnessing to others and sharing our personal testimonies with those whom God places in our lives. In other words, we respond to Easter by living a joyful, Christian life, and trying to convince others to know the new life that we know.
    I'm still down with all these things, by the way.
    However, there are other ways to respond, ways that are not mutually exclusive of each other. One is the Micah 6:8 response, "to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God." By caring for the widow, the orphan, the poor, the immigrant, and other vulnerable groups in society, we testify to the Good News.
    I'm pretty sure I don't do enough of this.
    Another option, one I have never placed too much stock in before, has to do with creation care.
    Books like "For the Beauty of the Earth: A Christian vision for Creation Care," by Steven Bouma-Prediger, have helped me to at least consider "stewardship of creation" as a legitimate Christian response.
    Bouma-Prediger offers a God-centered vision, rather than many of the other approaches that fall under the umbrella of "environmentalism." In other words, it's more about God than it is Al Gore.
    If God has created all things, and allowed us to have dominion over all things, then we should "rule" over creation with a loving, wise, God-like rule. If all creation is groaning in labor pains, as Paul says it is in Romans 8, then perhaps God has a redemptive purpose for all creation.
    It is something to think about. It has inspired me to at least consider creation care as a valid response to the Gospel, and not simply a cultural trend.
    There is something to it, for sure. But I continue to approach with caution.

The Worms Have Arrived

     The shipment of 2,000 red wiggler worms has arrived. The little squirmers are happily (I hope) in their new home, munching on some broccoli and watermelon rinds we had earlier this week. I also threw in some coffee grounds and banana peels. In 2-3 months, I have read, I will be ready to harvest the first batch of compost.
     Why am I messing around with vermi-composting?
     I was first inspired by a guy named Harland, the previous senior pastor I served with in Beaumont. He and his wife have had a worm-composting bin in their living room for several years now, to feed the thousand or so day lilies in their back yard.
     I am personally not an uber-green kind of guy. I am also not a major gardener or anything. I am trying my hand at composting with worms so that I can think more about the foods I eat. In short, I believe I can lead a healthier life if I eat less of the things that the worms can't eat (meats, cheeses, processed foods) and more of the things that they can eat (raw vegetables and fruits).
     If I accomplish only this goal, then it has been worth it.
     I also want to develop some type of deeper connection to creation. I have a dog and cat at home, and also a pet fish. We have a few plants, and hopefully some day will have a garden and some nice landscaping. But other than that, there is a whole lot of concrete ...
    Hopefully this whole composting thing will move me toward this deeper connection to the dirt.
    Lastly, I am working on helping families to cultivate new disciplines that can help them to think differently about living in a consumer culture. It could be composting, it could be recycling, it could be sponsoring a child through groups like World Vision. This is the focus of my final project for my doctor of ministry degree.
    So there you have it. I have 2,000 worms out in the garage hopefully doing there work. Away we go...
 

Easter reflections

     Holy Week and Easter Sunday have come and gone, and I am drained.

     We had an incredible week of worship, with a Maundy Thursday service, Good Friday Tenebrae service, overnight prayer vigil (that started with a prayer service on Saturday night), and of course the full slate of Easter Sunday services (including the sunrise service).

     It is a lot, but as I reflect on it, it was worth it.

     The Tenebrae service is always powerful, as we move from light to darkness and leave the sanctuary singing the refrain, "Jesus, Remember Me, When you come into your Kingdom." The highlight for me this year, though, was the Saturday night prayer vigil.

     About 10 of us gathered in the narthex at 7:30 Saturday night and prayed for each person who had signed up for a 30-minute slot for our overnight prayer vigil. People who signed up could pray in their homes, and we had at least two people committed to pray during every shift.

     I took the 2:30-3 AM shift, and I'll be honest, I wasn't sure if I could get myself up. But sure enough, when the 2:28 alarm went off in my iPhone, I headed out to the living room, sat Indian-style, and the prayers just flowed (with intermittent nods of sleep). 

     I prayed for our worship services the following morning, and the hundreds of people who would come walking through our doors. I prayed for people in our church. I prayed for my family. And yes, I prayed for myself.

     It was by far the most powerful 30 minutes of the Lenten and Easter season.

     It was so quiet in the house. The world seemed to be asleep. Jesus was still "in the tomb."

     I claim no credit for waking up, or for the prayers that rolled off my tongue over the course of 30 minutes. It was a Spirit-thing, through-and-through. In fact, next year, I am going to be quicker about signing up so I can find a time slot that is more agreeable to my sleep schedule!

     But for this year, I rejoice at these 30 minutes spent in prayer in the dead of night. I attribute it to the prayers of the 10 folks (perhaps more) who "prayed for the pray-ers" on Saturday night.

     I hope the other 25 people who joined in vigil had a similar experience.

     It is now Monday morning. I am caught up on my sleep. Christ is risen. A new year begins.

Insights from Week 2 on the Fitness Trail

     OK. Two weeks strong on the fitness trail, and I have a few insights to share.
     The last time around, which was about 1 1/2 years ago, it was all about the numbers on the scale. There was a lot of looking in the mirror to measure results. Nothing too atypical about that approach to fitness, but it ended with a thud, just about the time I moved from Beaumont to North Texas.
     Insight No. 1 -- This time around, there is a spiritual component to my working out. I have two wonderful people who "pray over me" each week at church. Through our prayer time, we have confirmed that my workout time is my time alone with God. When I go to the gym or hit the road for a run, I go to meet God. I go to pray. I go to relieve stress and "hand it over" to God.
     It is a markedly different mindset. Not that I won't peak at the scale now and then or strike a pose in the mirror, but the motivation is quite different.
     By God's grace, the Spirit will sustain what the flesh could not.
     Insight No. 2 -- I do need accountability. No sooner did I post the previous post than someone sent me this important reminder. There is something to be said for getting myself out of bed this morning and kicking myself in the pants. Nobody can do it but me. But I need other pants-kickers in my life. I need encouragement from others.
     Many thanks for this reminder.
     Insight No. 3 -- It's got to be daily. I can no longer get by with a Monday, Wednesday, and sometimes Friday workout routine. I need to work out every single day of the week (excluding a Sabbath rest). I've got to do it.
    I am not there yet, but I thank God for gains made so far. I am not sure how much weight I have lost, and for now, it's truly not the most important thing.
   

No Fitness Promises for This Guy

     I know I should exercise daily, and when I exercise, I actually like it.
     But for the past two years, my level of physical fitness has followed a downward trajectory.
    Now, there have been (recent) times in my life when I have exercised for weeks, even months, and experienced moderate success. I lost 32 pounds a few years ago and could run up to 8.5 miles non-stop. I never reached my goal of running a half-marathon, but I did run the Crazy Cajun 10K in Lake Charles, LA, and a few easy-peasy 5Ks.
     As my level of fitness continues to trend down, down, down, down, I feel a spurt of motivation coming along. It is almost as if I have to hit the bottom before I find the desire to climb back out.
     I do not recommend this approach!
     But now, call it too much falafel or too much schwarma in Israel, I feel a rally coming along. It started with the Ramparts walk in Jerusalem's Old City and with my hike to the top of Masada. It has continued with a few after-dinner walks in the neighborhood and a few trips to the Meullenbeck Fitness Center in Plano.
     Could this be the spurt that will help me shed these 32 pounds (and then some) that I have since re-claimed? Could it be the burn that will lead me back again to a regular running regimine?
     I refuse to say. I refuse even to entertain the "what-if's" down the road. For now, I just need to get my behind into the gym regularly and get a good 4-6 weeks of routine on the books. Only then will I allow myself to start saying "I'll do this" or "I'll do that."
     For now, I make no commitments, no promises, and claim no victory, so please don't hold me to anything!
     My only prayer is that God give me the desire, day-by-day, to get it done.
     With Christ, all things are possible.

Last Night in Jerusalem

     Well, it is time to pack up our belongings and head back home to good ole' Texas.

     The journey has been so full of emotion and meaning, and it is hard to put into words all that I think and feel at this point in time. Anne, Amy, and I will share our reflections next Wednesday, March 14, as part of our Lenten dinner program at GPC, so I guess we have a few days to put this jumble of thoughts and emotions to words.

     Today was more on the emotional side than anything. We visited the Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum here in Jerusalem, so you can imagine how that might impact a person.

     What struck me most is the thought of husbands torn from wives, and children separated from parents. In a literal flash, whole families were ripped apart, never to see each other again. I can only imagine what it is like to lose my wife or children in a flash.

     It happens. Maybe not in something as big as the Holocaust, but we can lose loved ones in a flash. Each moment is precious.

     I also think about if my children (or their whole generation, for that matter) properly understand things like the Holocaust. We can't take it for granted that the next generation "gets it." I think I might need to plan a trip the Holocaust Museum in D.C. the next time we go to visit Grandma, at least for the oldest two.

     We wrapped up the evening listening to a world class harp/guitar/folk musician play all types of ballads and I was tearing up like a baby.

     I'm a mess today. Probably just miss the family.

     On an up note, we descended into Hezekiah's Cave. This is where King Hezekiah had his men dig a tunnel from opposite ends to redirect water to inside the city gates (during Assyrian invasion). 

     We were right there, where pick axes did their work 2,700 years ago.

     Tomorrow we visit the Garden Tomb (a possible location for Jesus' burial), the Garden of Gethsemane, the Mount of Olives, and then head for Tel Aviv.

     See ya'll when we see ya'll.

Made it to the Top of Masada

OK. This is Masada. You can faintly see
the Snake Path winding up the side
of the mountain. It is 700 steps, and about
1,000 feet, to the top. I climbed that bad boy
today.

Floating in the Dead Sea. Good times.

Ramparts walk was a continuous flow
of narrow walls and occasional lookouts
over the Old City wall.

     After the last two days, I am just about out of gas.
     Monday was our free day, and six of us decided to walk the ramparts of the Old City wall. The wall to the Old City is basically from the Crusader era (12th century); only the base of some sections of the wall contain stones (Herodian stones) from the days of Jesus.
     It had a medieval castle vibe to it, complete with narrow slits in the watchtowers for archers. For $5, we walked the entire perimeter of Old City Jerusalem from about 25 feet in the air.
     It gave a different perspective of things, for sure, and it was quite a workout.
     Speaking of workouts, I hiked to the top of Masada today. The rest of the crew took the cable car to the top, but for my second visit to Masada I wanted to conquer the Snake Path to the top. Not sure how many feet it was -- probably a million or something. All I know is that toward the end of the climb I had to stop about every 30-40 yards.
    I'm not gonna lie. It rocked my world.
    The entire climb took me about 45 minutes. Many thanks to the group of Australian students who gave me high-fives just about the time I was going to drop from exhaustion.
     After the Masada climb, we headed back to the Dead Sea for some flotation.
     I'll be honest, the Dead Sea never gets old. I was thinking about skipping the whole changing-into-my-bathing-suit, walking-across-painful-pebbles thing and just watch the group swim.
     I'm glad I didn't. It is a lot of fun. I even went Braveheart with a few of my traveling buds with some of the mineral-rich mud. We slathered it all over our faces and chests like a bunch of crazed Scottish highlanders.
     Right now, I am absolutely whipped. Time for bed.
     Two more days before we head home. Tomorrow we go to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem and then go to King David's Palace, where get to go underground and explore.
     Not looking forward to the flight home, but it's all part of it, I guess.

The Ramparts crew