"Disconnected"

It occurred to me this morning that I needed to bring some planning and order to bear on next week's portion of the sabbatical. I am exploring one of the most beautiful parts of God's creation during the height of tourist season. Accommodations may not be a cinch to secure. So...knowing that I want to venture deeper into the North Cascades I set to work on the Internet and the phone to see what was available. What I discovered was...almost anything!

There are campgrounds with tent sites available. Sorry, I sport no equipment. Wait...they provide sleeping bags. There are rustic cabins that sleep anywhere from 1 to 15, traditional hotel rooms, as well as ranches that offer not only a place to lay your head but horseback riding, guided hiking, trout fishing and wildlife watching. There are rooms with jacuzzis, flat screen televisions and breakfast in bed. I settled on Buffalo Run Inn in Marblemount. It was relatively inexpensive and located only 10 miles from Diablo Lake, the heart of the area I want to explore. And I really liked the pictures of the buffaloes on the shower curtains.

It is most interesting that I found absolutely no desire for a room with television. Neither of the "Pauls" with whom I have stayed are much on television watching. I brought to the attention Paul #2 today that it had been over a week since I have sat in front of a television screen and I haven't missed it a bit. He invited me to go upstairs and sit in front of the one that their family owns. "It's not connected to anything," he said, "and I don't believe it works, but you're welcome to sit in front of it as long as you want."

I ponder the many activities with which we often fill our lives. There is some joy that comes with being 'unplugged' for awhile. There is also irony in my writing this while on a laptop plugged into a system as powerful and expansive as the Internet. I also see that my Blackberry is perched on the arm of the sofa beside me and continues to hum with announcements, texts, e-messages and calls from persons with whom I am connected.

Tomorrow I will attempt to become as disconnected as I have been in some time. I will hit the red button on the cell, hibernate the laptop and head for the hills to become connected in the most meaningful, most often overlooked ways, i.e. prayerfully and spiritually.

No pic's to post today. I spent Wednesday finishing The Shack. Tonight, after supper, four Palumbos and I took Xela the retriever for a walk along a tributary that spills into the Columbia River and stood atop a mountain that looked down into a jagged gorge. From there we watched a golden eagle take flight and roost among the cliffs.

I will look forward to 'reconnecting' with you sometime this weekend. Summer has arrived to north central Washington and the forecasters are calling for near triple-digit temperatures. If there is no electricity in my destination cabin then I will assume that there will be no a/c either. I will give thanks for the elevation.

And I daily give thanks for all of you.

"Snakes and Mountain Goats and Bears! Oh My!"

Paul shuffled off to the office this morning for a meeting. His daily commute to and from work consists of a 35-second walk across the side yard of the parsonage. There are some distinct advantages and disadvantages to this. When the sign at the local Texaco reads $4.49/gallon for 87 octane, the advantages seem heftier. I noticed today that Paul walks most places about Chelan. I accompanied him mid-morning to deliver food to someone in need. Along the way he greeted the townspeople with as much Spanish as English. (40% of the population here is Hispanic.) I Have heard story after story from the locals regarding how Paul's presence in the community has vitally changed Chelan. I have no doubt.

Virginia commented last evening that it was wonderful for Paul to have someone to "talk shop" with. We have done that, for sure...exploring various ministry successes and failures and probing theological issues. We sat at some outside cafe tables at noon and shared lunch and such shop talk.

For the afternoon we traveled around part of the Lake and up into the mountains for some hiking. Jeff was our guide. Jeff moved to north central Washington nearly 30 years ago when he would describe himself as a hippie. He collected some land, married Josette, a French Canadian woman who at that time spoke no English, and built a small cabin where he still spends his summers growing fruit, flowers and various vegetables. He spent an hour showing me how he had grafted his fruit trees and then gave me an aprium to test. This is a genetic cross between an apricot and a plum. Fantastic!

Once we began our trek down through the orchards, across the river and up the bank on the other side I was convinced that Jeff was part mountain goat. I was pleased that he was willing to do all the talking as we hiked for I may have been too winded to lead any conversation. After forging the second river of the afternoon we nearly stepped on a rattlesnake...and would have had he not taken care to let us know that he was here and that this was his path. We didn't argue. I did snap a pic that I will try to post. T'is as close as I ever care to come to such a critter.




(Jeff the "Mountain Goat" and Pastor Paul)







We forged our own path along the side of the mountain. In another 1/2 mile I heard some rustling of branches and spotted a bear cub climbing a tree about 20 yards down the hill. He was as interested in us as we were in him. I managed another picture here. We didn't tarry too long as this cub looked less than a year old, which meant that a third interested party on that mountain would have been momma bear, which, at that moment, we didn't spot. We saw more wildlife than people on our trek. We all agreed that this was fine.

Jeff is one of the only Jews in Chelan, but was very eager to enter the shop talk that Paul I carried out. He inquired about our ministries and hobbies and...an extraordinarily gracious dude. We finished our hike by driving to the lake to dip our feet, but no more than feet as the water is frigid! Lake Chelan is about 50 miles long and averages about a mile across. The water is pristine and a deep blue in the late afternoon sun. It is the third deepest lake in North America, claiming 1,600 feet in spots. Many of you may know that Holden Village (Lutheran retreat center where the Holden Evening Liturgy was born) lies on an island at the northern edges of this lake.

I will spend this evening reading and resting and may turn in early after a few games with the Palumbo's retriever, Xela. I have seen God in many places this day. I anticipate more encounters in my dreams.

God Always Finds a Way - "Bridge Over Troubled Water"

I am drawn to waterfalls. When I take inventory of the number of waterfall hunting guides available for purchase then I quickly surmise that I am not alone in this passion. I borrowed such a guide to find Wallace Falls this morning. Just west of Stephens Pass on Washington Highway 2 rests the sleepy town of Gold Bar. Turn north in the middle of this bend in the road, head through a small residential area and up the mountain and you will arrive at Wallace Falls State Park.

The trail is underwhelming as it leaves the small parking area following the crackling of open overhead power lines, but then turns into the forest and becomes a bit more inviting. The trail soon splits. The 'high' trail is an old railroad bed which is therefore graded for the walker. The 'low' trail is bit more arduously navigated along the Wallace River and is designated for "hikers." I'm in this for the adventure. I took the low trail, i.e. the trail less traveled. Robert Frost would have been proud.

I can study waterfalls for hours. It is a spiritual exercise for me. I wonder how it is that the rivers or streams first searched out their route and how many thousands of years it took to cut such a trough in the earth. This morning I pondered these matters more deeply than usual knowing that I would be writing you this evening. I believe the essence of my passion is this...i.e. I love that the water finds its way regardless of whatever obstacle might threaten to frustrate its progress. I admire the water. It reminds me of God's Spirit.

In Gold Bar I noticed two church buildings that were no longer serving to harbor churches. The first building was cause to pull over and snap my first photo of the day. I discovered only later that some varmint had apparently monkeyed with my aperture setting during the night and failed to inform me, so the shot was grossly overexposed. So while I can't share it with you, I can describe it. This old, white wooden building sported a traditional steeple, but no cross. It had apparently been removed. Upon the side of the steeple was a banner advertising the art studio and shop inside. My guess is that these weren't liturgical arts.

In one way I am concerned for the church culture. Dave Lind sends a wonderful link from USA Today that describes well and alarmingly the current state of matters (http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2008-06-23-pew-religions_N.htm?csp=34). But don't read what I'm not writing. While I am concerned for the church culture, the waterfall reminds me not to despair for the church. It is, after all, Jesus' church. It will endure. 'The gates of hell will not prevail against it," we sing. It shall be there, in some form, at the end of time to greet the returning Savior. Just as the water finds a way, so shall the church. But I suspect that the church that Jesus will greet on his second advent will look much different than the church of today. Just as I imagine what the waterfall might have looked like a million years ago, I wonder what the church of Christ might look like when my great grandchildren are a part of it.

Wallace Falls are quite impressive. There is little perspective to the photos I shall try to post, but the waters you hopefully see are plunging some 180 feet into the basin before rushing down the gorge. It was a wonderful arena in which to spend the morning and about 6 miles of hiking/climbing.

The banana and coffee cake that I had for breakfast at the Hoffman's before leaving Seattle was wonderful, but was spent about half way up the falls, so by my early afternoon return I was eager to make lunch of anything edible. Lunch was an old tuna sandwich and a few granola bars from the corner Shell Station. A few more hours on the highway placed me in the town of Chelan where my dear ole friend Paul gave a warm, gracious welcome. Paul, Virginia and three of their four children live in the parsonage next door to Lake Chelan Lutheran Church where Paul serves. Don't bother looking for their website. There is none. This is a wonderful, small, A-framed building where 50-80 folks gather for one service on Sunday morning. Paul has served here for 10 years. As we walked about town he called out to dozens of persons by name. I wasn't sure if he was pastor or mayor. ..or both.

I will blog again tomorrow evening, and perhaps Wednesday, and then I will be out of touch from Thursday late morning until Sunday morning. I have told you about Stan and Sandy. They own a small cabin about 20 minutes from Chelan where they host persons on spiritual retreat. They are especially pleased to pray for pastors. There will be a rite when entering this experience wherein Sandy will pray for me. Then I will spend the next days ambling about the mountains, praying to the Creator, and being served meals by this gracious couple. Darkness comes late here. Perhaps this is good as there is no electricity in this one-roomed cabin. "What is the fee for this?" I naively asked Paul. "Fee?! There is no fee," he replied. "This is their ministry, man!"

I think now again of The Shack, the novel of which I wrote to you yesterday. I wonder if I, too, might have some experience of the Trinity in this cabin. I'm counting on it. God always finds a way.

So this is what Sundays are like From the Pew!

Sometimes my sermons are worked out in the empty sanctuary...empty, that is, except the Holy Spirit. When I am challenged regarding a particular lesson, I will often leave the chancel and sit in the pew for a spell. "What do those who will fill these pews this weekend need to hear? Experience? With what life issues are they wrestling? Where are they in need of mending?" Sometimes what I need to say isn't exactly what is most needful to hear. I had a similar type of perspective today as I experienced Sunday morning like most of you.

I rose late after getting 8 hours of sleep for the first time in months, read the paper and had a cup of coffee (what else would I have in Seattle?). Then I lazily made my way to church arriving just a few moments before worship, sifted through the bulletins and announcements and...then rose for the opening hymn. While I wouldn't trade my usual 6:00 Sunday morning alarm or my "what am I going to do with the children this morning?" planning sessions on the way to worship for anything, it was nice to sit in an alternate world for this one morning.

Worship at Phinney Ridge Lutheran Church is noticeably and intentionally traditional. Some might call it "high church." It fits the niche here. It works.

This afternoon I made my way to Church of the Apostles Lutheran Church, an emergent community that is geared completely differently and attends to a very disparate crowd. There are no robes here. No organ. No one over the age of 30. Worship is participatory, imagistic and celebrates the mystery of God through art and a very different sort of liturgy. It is housed in a renovated older church building now called "Fremont Abbey."

Within site of my home in southern Overland Park there are two church buildings. The closest is Grace Community Church, a modern facility that is box-shaped and post-modern. You know before you enter that its worship space will be movable and multi-purposed. There are video screens up front and worship looks like you imagine worship when someone describes it as "praise," driven by guitar and percussion.

Across and just west on 159th street is Redeemer Presbyterian Church. Google it and you will see a church building fashioned to look like a church building. This is prototypical colonial architecture with a high rising white spire and cross. This is the church that "grandma used to attend." Worship is driven by organ and traditional liturgy.

So here in the heart of Seattle the church finds the same sort of varied persuasions and expressions that it does back in Johnson County. It reflects the disparity of our culture. You can't count on the McDonaldization of the Lutheran (or any other) tribe. We used to trust that a big mac was a big mac no matter where you ordered it. Lutheran worship was Lutheran worship no matter what red doors you entered. But the expression of our confession has now become as varied as the culture we attempt to address with the Gospel. It is a challenging, wondrous deal. It befuddles and excites me.

Following worship I stopped at the Red Mill Burger Shop for lunch. Like everything else in this town it is located beside Starbucks. I then ventured to the waterfront to walk along the piers and watch the ferries arrive and depart. Paul shared with me tonight that "I'm sorry I have to cut this meeting short for I have a ferry to catch" is a completely acceptable phrase here. It is a marvelous city.

I then spent the afternoon on the computer, researched some of the waterfalls I intend to explore tomorrow, and read further into the novel, "The Shack," by William P. Young, a faith-based novel that so far has been a stimulating read. I'll keep you posted.

Paul and I sat up until late tonight embroiled in wonderful collegial conversations and stories. There have been two decades worth to share. Needless to say, we hit the 'high points.' I spoke adoringly of Atonement and my dear love for this congregation. He was very interested in the Atonement line of apparel that I have been sporting since I arrived. Perhaps I will send him a shirt later.

Tomorrow we will share breakfast together before he heads off to open VBS and I venture east to see what sort of trouble I can rouse and how many waterfalls I can search out before arriving in Chelan tomorrow evening. Pastor Paul Palumbo and wife, Virginia, dear friends, promise to have the table spread. They asked if I had special dietary needs. I said, "Food is good."

Chelan is in a remote area of the Cascades of north central Washington so I don't know what to expect in regards to cyber connectivity. If nothing else, surely there will be a Starbucks on the lake!

A Protracted Sabbatical..."Take 2"

While I officially restarted the "Sabbath Clock" on Monday, it really feels as if the experience began today. Jim and Kaye Dalbec were kind enough to retrieve me this morning and ensure that I arrived at MCI on time for my date with Northwest Airlines. After a brief layover in the Lutheran Mecca (Minneapolis, of course) I was off to an expectedly cloudy, cool Seattle. It has been a long day and I shall surely not be "sleepless" in this city tonight.

What a joy to reconnect with Paul and Donna Hoffman. It has been two full decades since we last visited and shared life stories, so this was just how the evening was spent. We sat around the dining room table of their three-story downtown Seattle home, feasted on fresh seafood and caught up on life and ministry...in that order. Paul was my intern supervisor back in the late 80's at Christ the Servant Lutheran Church in Allen, TX. He now serves as senior pastor of Phinney Ridge Lutheran here where I shall worship tomorrow. "Normally," Paul confessed tonight, "I would rise tomorrow morning at 4:30 am to work on my sermon." (Finally, someone that waits even later than me!) "But the vicar (intern) is slated to preach this week, so I get to sleep in," he said. So tomorrow I shall watch Paul watch his intern for the purposes of evaluation. Surely it shall bring back memories.

The table fellowship extended to a wonderful late evening walk around a local lake. The sun is not in a hurry to set here. It was nearly 10:00 pm when we returned and there was still a glow in the horizon.

One of the purposes of my trip here was to visit Church of the Apostles, an emergent church community shared by the Lutheran and Episcopal communties here. Turns out that COTA is but 3 blocks from the Hoffman's home which makes visiting much more doable than I had imagined. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon.

My body and computer clock are both still on CST and are bellowing that it is nearly 1:30 am. So I shall turn in. It is good to be in blog conversation with you all. I shall miss being at Atonement this weekend and will surely experience a bit of withdrawal. I send a heartfelt "thank you" to those that have committed to pray daily for me. You have seen me safely to my first destination.

"Leaning for the Tape"

The day began with an earthquake at 1:00 am this morning. I am sure residents of this part of the vineyard have gotten used to such events, but t'was special for me. Clothes hangers began rattling and then the bed started to tremble. It is one of those moments when one takes assessment of life and begins communicating with the Almighty.

It is now 8:01 am in Southern California and the professor is catching some light-hearted criticism for being late getting class underway. The point of the week has arrived where giddiness begins to take over, especially in a room full of pastors who are far too used to having a microphone in their hands.

Today's studies are not scheduled to conclude until 9:00 this evening. We make up for that tomorrow by finishing at noon. Then we disperse to the airports and all sorts of home destinations. I could not find a convenient Friday flight back to KC so I will hang out until early Saturday morning. Somewhere between now and then I shall search out what the preacher's gonna say this weekend at Atonement.

My mind and soul are swimming with new learnings and inspirations and challenges. One of the keenest learnings is how much there is yet to learn. Collections of this experience will bleed out into community life at Atonement over the upcoming months and years. Trust that I will resist the temptation to perform an information dump on you as soon as I hit the doors (or pulpit or classroom). But have patience with me if I seem more excited or antsy than is easily explainable.

God has a wonderful plan for all of us...and for Atonement. For sure. God's Spirit is alive and active in the world. For sure. Our endeavor is to connect ourselves to that activity...and often, perhaps most often, this holy activity is taking place outside the walls of the church. I look forward to stumbling with you upon the mystery of God's plan for us, over and over again.

See you in KC or wherever our paths next cross. Thanks for following along!

Pastor Joe

The Homestretch

Class goes well. Today's presentations had some teeth to them and stimulated engaging conversation. But it's time to come home, I do believe. There is nothing that makes one miss ministry more than spending all day talking about ministry!

Class Begins

There are twenty pastors in this doctoral class of all sorts of persuasions and tribes. In fact there are representatives from denominations I've never heard of. A priest in a long black robe sits at the back of class and attests to serve some Greek Church of Antioch in California. There is a missionary from Japan and several Presbyterians from the northeast. Interestingly, the preponderance of students are Midwesterners...even an independent church planter from Lees Summit and three pastors from Nebraska. There are four of us here representing the ELCA.

Fuller Seminary takes up several blocks in downtown Pasadena and we sit in an small auditorium type room in the basement of the main classroom building. There are outlets and ethernet connections for all students and the majority of us and pecking away on laptops throughout class taking notes (and checking e-mails and researching to see if the Dodgers or Angels are in town and...). Content has been stimulating, though not much new material today. This will become more challenging as the week progresses.

Relatives of all sorts are contacting me for meals and get-togethers so the out-of-class schedule is filling. I am looking forward to another visit and stay over with Pastor Stephen on Friday as Joann will be in the Midwest for a wedding. We boys will see what sort of trouble we can find.

Now I'm off to complete the bulletin to send back to the office. Rick is on vacation this week. Then I am to connect for supper with a Lutheran pastor from west Omaha. Abundant blessings to all!

(The attached picture of our professor, Reggie McNeal. I am sure that you can investigate him readily with a quick browser search. He is well published.)

Mosaic

The Los Angeles highways are nearly manageable early on Sunday mornings, so I made the drive from Lomita up to Pasadena in about 40 minutes, arriving at William Carey University and Mosaic about 15 minutes early. What I encountered there was extraordinary. (Note the link to Mosaic on this blog.)

I was one of the first to enter the auditorium. It was dark save a brilliantly lit stage and set of three large screens down front. Techno music beat in the background and announcements about upcoming Mosaic events, servant projects, Bible classes and small groups cycled on the screens. Soon the first musicians took their spots and invited those present to stand. As I turned I was amazed to see young folks streaming down all aisles. Within minutes the space harbored several thousand worshippers whose average age I would guess to be about 24. There were three songs offered...loud and energetic. Some sang. Others clapped. Others observed and prayed. A second band tag teamed and took the stage where a tremendously talented African American woman sang her version of Don Henley's "The Heart of the Matter." I had never considered this song from a Christian perspective before. It was dynamic.

Erwin McManus then emerged for a time of teaching. He wore a white collared shirt open in front and untucked (In case you haven't heard, "out" is "in") and jeans with a hole in one knee. He sat upon a black stool in a spotlight and for 40 minutes (about the same length as Pastor Stephen's sermons), without a note, spoke about spiritual warfare. The young worshippers in attendance listened carefully, following along in their Bibles. An offering was taken to which only "followers of Jesus Christ" were asked to contribute, several more announcements were made and all were invited to a 10-minute party outside in order to get acquainted with the ministry. The Pasadena site is but one of four where Mosaic will "happen" this weekend. If you visit their link you can listen to a podcast of McManus' presentations...today's offering will likely be available soon.

Then, with the help of Google Maps, I made my way across town to Fuller Seminary and checked into my room in preparation for this week's class. With over 3,200 pages of reading completed and ten reports written, I am ready. Bring it on.

Despite the front desk clerks insistence that the wireless router on site was not operative, I have found a connection and should be able to stay in touch this week. I pray that all was well with worship at Atonement this weekend. I am sorry to have missed the opportunity to experience worship with both Rick and Alex Deasley at the helm. What a treat that must've been. It will be good to be with you again next week.

I see on CNN Weather you are in the middle of a heatwave at home. A good week to be in Pasadena, I suppose. Prayers I send you way and will surely accept any you have to offer in return.

Getting Reacquainted with My Watch

For five weeks I have been without a watch on my wrist. The only schedules to which I have had to attend belonged to Delta. These obligations have come infrequently enough that I could just pull the cell phone from the holster and gander at the clock. But now it is off to class and the wrist watch is again...well...on the wrist. I had not missed it.

Travel went well today. I was even unexpectedly bumped to first class for the Salt Lake City to LAX leg of the flight. Stephen and Joann Lien live only about 13 miles from the airport which is about a four day drive if traffic patterns are unfriendly. I hit them in good stride and arrived in time for a tour of their new home and a wonderful supper together on the back deck. It was 72 degrees with a light breeze. But then it's always 72 degrees with a light breeze here. Following supper I was treated to a ride in the convertible up the mountain to Ascension Lutheran, a lovely congregation that overlooks the Los Angeles valley where tonight lights twinkled like stars. Pastor Stephen has visions of evangelizing that valley. I suspect that, together with the Holy Spirit, he will.

My body doesn't know if it is to attend to Maine time or Kansas time or Pacific time. Right now it only knows that it is weary. A few more reports to write and print out tonight and it is off to bed. As much as I would like to attend worship at Ascension tomorrow I believe that I will beg out and head towards Pasadena to take in an emergent church worship service there. Joann helped to print pertinent information tonight, including a map and directions. The Lutheran service would be friendlier and more familiar. The emergent church service will be more educative and posture me well for Monday's class.

In order to grab something from my mailbox I dashed into Atonement this morning on the way to the airport. Nice that the building is still standing and all seemed well. My box was certainly stuffed. I didn't have the courage to check the office desk. But I am eager to get back to ministry as unusual. It is time.

I am not sure what sort of connections await me in Pasadena tomorrow evening. Surely a seminary as progressive as Fuller will have accommodations. If not, there's always Starbucks.

Once again, my thoughts and prayers are with you this weekend.

Back Home...at Least for A Moment

After I left the lobby computer two nights ago I told the front desk at the inn in Portland that we needed a 3:30 wake-up call. He asked, "am?" I suppose that it was a rather odd request given the fact that it was 1:00 am at the time.

Travel over the past few days has been rather uneventful. This is good. All the Delta connections were made easily (despite the incredibly long security check line at Portland). Our stay in NC saying "farewell" to extended family lasted longer than expected. So what's new? We left just before 9:00 pm last night and arrived in Overland Park at noon today, exhausted but thrilled to reconnect with the children and the growing number of animals at the house. Somehow we managed to pick up a few extra cats while away. Still trying to figure that one out. While the parents are away... .

So...some wash, a haircut, a few bills to pay, more reports to write and a suitcase to repack and I'm off again tomorrow, this time westward bound. The camera has enough miles on it for one month, so I shall not lug it to California. But I will intend to check in regularly to report on class and other 'happenings.'

Peace to you and many 'thanks' for the thoughts and prayers.

Well...I don't suppose Katahdin's going anywhere.

Just after midnight on the morning of our planned hike, after having managed ourselves to bed a bit later than expected anyway, we received a phone call from Lauren that she was feverish and ill. By the time we settled down again, the alarm clock was sounding. We decided that 6 hours of driving and 10 hours of climbing were not advisable after a sleepless night. So we bagged the trip until 'next time.' Perhaps that will be one year in late September when the leaves are in their glory, and God will whisper, "See, isn't this better?" T'is disappointing, but I trust that you were attending to us in prayer and there is purpose in this.

We are traveling for the next few days and postings may be scarce. Today we travel south to the Portland area to grab a hotel in preparation for an early Thursday morning flight back to Greensboro. A quick swing by the farm to pick up the bike and gear and books and...we're off on a 16+-hour drive through the night back to Overland Park. After spending my last day with Lauren (who is doing better now) before she heads off to Emporia State, washing clothes and re-gearing for the home stretch of this sabbatical, I take another early flight Saturday morning to LAX for class next week in Pasadena.

Blessings to you. Will likely sign in again in a few days. Perhaps I will have Pastor Stephen type "hello."

_____

It is now nearly 10:30 pm on Wednesday evening. We have settled into a nice converted inn in downtown Portland, but only for a few hours as our flight leaves the jetport at 6:00 am., about the time the folks at the Inn at St. John are laying out the continental breakfast. The feet and the camera are disappointed that the hike did not happen today, but the common sense knows that we made the right decision. Can't imagine starting out on the highways for Kansas after two nights of sleeplessness.

Heard from Pastor Stephen tonight. He called to say that the directions to his house which he had sent earlier were not correct. The exit comes at 1.8 miles and not 1.4 miles. Talk about precision! He suggested that I save the message and play it back en route. Probably the closest that I will come to having a GPS. It will be good to reconnect with this colleague and friend.

Here's hoping that Delta has it's act together tomorrow. I'll reconnect with this blog in a few days or so.

The Eve of the Climb

We've had a fairly uneventful day. I needed to be no prophet to predict that my back would need attention at some point during this adventure. Today was the day...and chiropractors are more difficult to find in this area than moose. An inquiry at the general store (the only store) here resulted in a phone number of a local "doc" that didn't keep office hours, but was available if called. Sure enough...a phone call and trip up the mountain to his basement offered a stiff table and an adjustment. What a hoot!

We are hoping that the "fix" allows us to rise and be on the road by 3:00 in the morning. Three hours up the logging roads puts us at the southern entrance to Baxter State Park and the trails that lead to the summit of Mount Katahdin. (I'll search for a pic to attach.) If all goes as plans, ten hours of hiking/climbing will allow a summit and return. We'll see. The loons won't have to work hard to lull me back to sleep...if loons do anything at 2:30 am. If I have any energy at all tomorrow evening, I'll report on the day.

Prayers requested.

(Just heard from Brooke Hodnefield. She has been officially accepted as an M.Div. student at Luther Seminary and member of the new online cohort of study. Prayers of thanksgiving abound!)

The Moose...Demythologized

The attached image is an AP picture taken over Moosehead about a week ago. It is this sun that has awakened each of these recent mornings.

The great Moose myth is no more. I am now a believer. A lengthy, guided boat ride this evening through the marshes of the northern end of the lake proffered for us one galloping moose. We saw more lake spray than mammal, but t'was enough to testify to a sighting. Even had we not succeeding in locating our goal the trip alone was extraordinarily beautiful, filled with loons, osprey and other fowl. Then, on the way back from the marina, we spotted a cow moose just feet off of the road. We stopped and chatted awhile, though she trotted off before I could secure the camera. All in all, a good moose day.

There was a different sort of "Son" that greeted us this morning at the Community Church of Rockwood, a small United Church of Christ congregation meeting at a log cabin in town. This beautiful, rustic building (that appeared on a cover of an old Christmas Edition of "The Saturday Evening Post") was nearly filled when the forty or so worshippers found their pews. Worship was predictably traditional and familiar. About half way through the service there was a time for worshippers to stand and share joys and prayer concerns. I was introduced. It is the sort of setting in which I have often been invited to "come up and say a few words." Thankfully, this morning I could just worship. It was a treat.

There was a little time today to crank out one more report. Three down...six to go.

We are beginning to renegotiate the next few days. While I appreciate the electronic suggestions, we have opted for a third direction that had not occurred to us until now. About three hours (by private dirt road) to the northeast is Mount Katahdin, the highest point in Maine and the northern termination point of the Appalachian Trail. It just sits there begging to be hiked. So...likely on Tuesday we shall head in the direction prepared to scale it. I'll know more after some web research this evening.

My thoughts and prayers were with Atonemenites this day. This time away has been wonderfully re-creating, but I am eager to get back to Kansas. Frankly, I'm a little tired of explaining where our wonderful state is to these northeasterners.

God's richest blessings to you!

Rip Van "Bul"Winkle

We were "up and at 'em" early this morning hitching a pontoon boat ride over to the island that is Mount Kineo, situated in the middle of Moosehead. (Borrowed a web picture to post.) A 4 1/2 mile round trip hike (or climb) places one at the top of the mountain and the base of an old forest service tower which is also very climbable. Great trip, especially after a few days of being sedentary and scholarly.

After returning to the cabin I took an unintentional and apparently much needed two-hour nap awakened only by the thunder of one of the more violent storms I've ever experienced. I swore that two of the lightening bolts traveled right through the upstairs room of the cabin. The storms canceled the Moose hunting boat excursion planned for late this afternoon. Our hosts, not to be dissuaded, offered another car venture following supper...but the great "Moose Myth" is perpetuated yet another day. No sightings.

The writing has begun and two of the books which I have read are now accounted for in reports.

I understand that worship tomorrow morning will take place in a cabin church just up the road. Holding about forty souls or so, it promises to be filled this time of year. Eric, our host and member of a previously served congregation, is scheduled to solo. T'will be a treat, for sure.

My prayers and thoughts shall be of Atonement.

The "Moose Myth"

Last evening's 20-mile journey down a darkened, secluded, washboarded, spruce-lined private road in search of moose produced only one suspicious set of eyes. Our hosts were incredulous...but persistent. "We will try again, by float plane if we must," they have promised. I'm pulling for the plane.

The reading is complete ahead of schedule! A by-product of cabin fever. Spiritual Leadership was disappointingly generic. But it is done. And now I dedicate the next days to reporting on this pile of books (most of which is still stacked in the front room of my folks' place in NC). It must all be ready to hand in on the first day of class. There will be 40 hours of class time in Pasadena and then an integrative paper of 40-50 pages due six months after class. There go my days off for the rest of the year.

I was invited this morning to preach two services this weekend at the local parish of undetermined denomination. The pastor was looking for a last-minute trip away...somewhere. I was honored, but declined, deciding to use the sabbatical as ...well... sabbath and find an opportunity to be fed as opposed to feeding. My staff would be proud.

The next big decision regards the trajectory of our final leg of this adventure. We either head into Canada to explore Quebec City, only 1 1/2 hours west north west ...or... we venture out to the Maritimes or the Maine coastline, about the same distance in the opposite direction. We'll flip a coin this weekend, but I'm open for suggestions on the comments section.

Peace to all. You remain in my prayers this weekend. I apologize that there will be no Maine pictures for a few days as the equipment here lacks USB ports or convenient ways to transfer pic files. Perhaps I'll inundate you later.

"Cabin Fever"

The loons sang us to sleep last night. The sun awakened us not long after 4:30 this morning. The temperature reached 90 today and thought the county was going to shut down. The world is strangely and wonderfully different "up here."

Realizing that I was a little behind in my reading I spent the day chained to the couch, alternating between two very different books, i.e. The Future of Leadership (a conglomeration of essays and offerings from various business experts on the topic) and Spiritual Leadership, by Henry and Richard Blackaby. I have plodded to the midway point of both, the last two books on the required reading list. With these completed I then turn to the task of writing/reporting on each of the books I have read. I have the awkward sense that this should've been done 'along the way' instead of 'after the fact' of reading. I also realize that the majority of the books are still back on the farm in NC, presenting another writing challenge. Perhaps the preponderance of writing will happen en route back to Kansas or on the way to Pasadena...or as Pastor Stephen and I are reminiscing. Well...likely not the latter.

We've just been invited out for another edge of dusk boat ride...or...a car excursion in search of moose. I have vowed not to leave here without at least one sighting. Oh, but that the moose where as prolific as the hummingbirds, which I have watched during each reading break this afternoon.

Given the equipment here I am still struggling to find a way to post pic's on this site. Will press into service all my technical savvy and then some.

Peace to all!

Wish You Were With Me Today in Paradise

We left Greensboro, NC yesterday morning at 6:00 am and were in Portland, Maine before my folks were out of bed. The trip was not without adventure, including a race across LaGuardia to change concourses, carriers and planes. We made it just before the doors shut.

We landed in this marvelous state and were greeted my mist and 62 degrees. By the time we traveled to Moosehead Lake, 3 1/2 hours into the northern timber country, the sun had broken the skies and the mercury was topping out in the lower 80's. We stopped for directions at the local country store were the Mainers were wiping their brows and complaining, "We only get about four of these days a year! Can you stand it?!" I chuckled, but only to myself. folks really talk funny up here.

We reached the Olson's cabin in time for a late supper. They were astonished that we saw no moose along the way and promised a dozen or so sitings before we leave. This morning was spent (as was yesterday's plane trip) engaged with The Missional Leader, a marvelous book that chronicles the style, gifts and approaches necessary for successfully leading a congregation through discontinuous change. I knocked the book out at a couple of sittings, mostly because it was so compelling. Kudos to the authors. (Note that I have added to this site the link for Missional Leadership Institute.)

This afternoon was spent lunching with our marvelous hosts aboard their pontoon boat in the middle this nearly 800 square mile lake. It is immense! ...and just as beautiful as it is large. (I will work to attach pictures to this blog but am struggling with the dial-up service here. Eric says that we can venture about 20 miles into town where someone he knows has a faster computer for rent...cheap. I passed.) We caught a lake salmon that looks postured for the grill here momentarily. The Olsens are members of my former congregation in North Myrtle Beach, SC where they winter beginning in October, just before the lake here begins to develop what will eventually become over a yard of ice. Go figure.

God was surely in a more artsy and creative mood when He fashioned this part of the vineyard. This evening we will spend on the deck overlooking the lake, talking about old times, ministry, our congregations and the way God is working in our respective lives. They will be good times, the stuff that memories are made of. And all the while I shall be thinking of my congregation back in Kansas, wishing that I could share this first hand. Who knows? Maybe a congregational retreat next year?

May the kind of peace that passes the world's understanding be with you this day.

Even The Very Best Laid Plans...

I wrote yesterday that this day would be spent largely traveling in the air and through airports. We experienced only the 'airport' part. When arriving at the check-in counter for Delta (after having scrambled frantically to negotiate traffic and a 45-mile drive) the attendant informed us that the flight had been cancelled due to storms in the New York City area. Surveying our options, we elected to try again in the morning at 6:00 am. So we recollected our baggage and the car from remote parking and decided to reboot our effort in the morning.

Eric confirmed our decision. Talking to us this evening from our cabin destination on Moosehead Lake he said, "Yeah...you don't want to tangle with the moose up hear after dark. Coming in the light of day is better." And so we shall.

So...weather and equipment permitting...we depart Greensboro tomorrow morning and stopover quickly at LaGuardia before traveling on to Portland. After breezing by BJ's electronics store to change out a cell phone (more technical problems) we are off up scenic highway 201 towards the great timber country of northern Maine.

I will scramble now to collect the reading that I had intended for 35,000 feet. I had hoped to have read ahead so that we would have more time to enjoy Maine, so I'll make the most of the this evening.

Blessings! And for those who offered travel prayers....pray harder tonight!

Going Home to Church Again...for the First Time

Mom was beaming today. Her regular pew, the pew at Bethel Lutheran Church in which the Crowthers have sat as long as the pew has been a pew, was once again full of Crowthers. All the boys were home and at worship. Even the pastor commented about this in his announcements. The congregation laughed. My folks were proud.

It is odd to go home again. Jesus discovered this. It is never the same...not as one remembers home. Problem was, at Bethel everything was the same.

I decided to turn this morning's worship into a bit of an experiment, attending as a visitor. But not just any visitor. This morning I attempted to worship as someone who had never before worshipped in a Christian church. Sometimes we call these visitors the "unchurched." I've never really cared for this term. Sounds a little like a retro soda commercial. I resonate more with a term used in some of my current reading, i.e. the "sought." This morning I was one of the sought, one to whom God's heart is particularly inclined.

As one of the sought I quickly noticed how difficult the bulletin was to understand and navigate. Even I was a bit uncertain as to what the page references indicated in this new cranberry hymnal (but 10 credit points for having the new hymnal). Worship was staid...but familiar. The head dude up front in the funny white robe seemed to run the show. (As his colleague and son of this congregation I know him as a pastor...as one of the sought I see his garb as cultic and strange). I listened to music from an instrument I hear nowhere else, except Kauffman Stadium. I notice that the children (and myself) are fidgeting and parents are fighting to keep their attention focused towards the front. As soon as the show is over, they literally explode with energy and run out the doors. But during the service, they just fidget. I don't understand the symbolism or the purposes for many of the actions of those around me, and I feel uncomfortable and unusually self-conscious.

As a member of this group's extended tribe I am comfortable with all that took place this morning. As one of the sought, there is little that happens that is comprehensible to me. And if anyone from Bethel is following this blog, fret not. I am describing most any mainline Protestant congregation these days. Don't take this personally.

But it is time for all of us to take this seriously. If God endeavors to seek the sought (and if you have doubt about this pull out your New Testament again), then it would behoove the church and benefit the kingdom for each of us to visit our home congregations again for the first time.

I am thrilled at how many folks seem to be following along with these ruminations. Thank you. We spend much of tomorrow in the air and at airports. This is good as I get my best reading done there...and today I managed none. As we travel from Greensboro to Portland, Maine please send along your prayers.

Quantum Science and Cycling

God was smiling on today's cycling event. It was a rare, dry, cool Carolina July morning and the cyclists turned out by the hundreds at Lowe's corporate headquarters in the town of Mooresville (NASCAR capitol of the world), about a 35-minute drive from the farm. Wanting today's event to provide more fun than challenge, I converted my goal from miles to kilometers...i.e. from 100 miles to a metric century of 65 miles. The last-minute change failed to remove all of the challenge.

Some of the basic tenets of Margaret Wheatley's work (my current 'read'), applying quantum science to organizational dynamics, was realized during today's event. It is certainly beyond the scope of this blog to convey a broad reporting of this "new" science (assuming I understood itto begin with), but a thread that runs through quantum approaches is the significance of relationships. One does not study systems, organisms, structures or organizations by dissecting and analyzing their parts, but always by examining the whole and the manners in which the parts of that whole relate.

If you have followed the coverage of the Tour de France you have likely done so from above, i.e. from aerial views. I have noticed the fluidity of the movement of the pelaton (the large, main group of racers). They move like a flock of birds, all relating in some way to one another. Though we moved today with a fraction of the grace and skill of these professional riders, all of our movements somehow related to other cyclists or to some impending threat to the group. If one cyclist moved left, the rest in his sphere of influence also moved left. "Car back!" a cyclist in the rear of the group might shout, and we would all respond accordingly. If the cyclist in front slowed, the by golly those behind him had better follow suit. We were in relationship for the good of the whole.

I picked up a rider at mile 28 who was content to stick to my back wheel for the rest of the ride. Just as in racing cars, cyclists draft upon each other to reduce the work that they expend. Though I never learned his name, we were in relationship...which obviously benefited him a great deal more than me!

When I take even a cursory examination around me these days I see that our culture is defined by its need and yearning for relationship. This is why "community" is the most frequently used word in church titles. It is relationship that prompts guests to darken church doors. They are searching for connection, ...with God and with the people of God. I suspect that this is also true for most who are reading these words. The primary reason that we belong to churches and organizations is the relationships that we maintain there.

Wheatley's work has been a bear to read. But I know that when I return to the highlighted sections and review there will be marvelous insights and truths to apply to ministry, to the way we structure staff and programming and outreach. More later.

I found myself proclaiming today, "Well, I ain't in Kansas any longer." The terrain around the lake was hilly and challenging. I finished the 65 miles in just over three hours, averaging around 19 mph, a decent pace for me. It was a well-sponsored event with tents of food, music, smiles and southern hospitality. A good day.

I returned to the farm to finish Wheatley's book, now with a little deeper appreciation for her insights having experienced them firsthand.

Tonight I shared supper with my two brothers. It is the first time we've been at table together in years.

I will miss being around the Lord's table with you Atonemenites this weekend. But reemmber that this is a meal that transcends time and geography. So as I feast with the Lord and upon the Lord here tomorrow, I shall feast with you as well. And you remain in my prayers.

A Quantum Leap in Reading

I have always been a scientist at heart. Perhaps I owe this to the hours I spent in my father's laboratory (a research chemist by trade) observing, though rarely understanding, his experimentation. Maybe it's part of my DNA to approach the world mathematically. All I know is that early on in my collegiate quest to become a a mechanical engineer...to completely apply myself to the Newtonian conviction that the world can be best understood by dissembling it, studying its various parts and then putting it all back together again...the Holy Spirit grabbed and rerouted me.

Today I consider the irony that Margaret Wheatley has introduced me to the world of quantum science in order to better understand the life and dynamics of organizations (I believe she might say "organisms"). This is heavy reading. Mired in this mixture of philosophy and the new science my decision to pursue ministry (or have it pursue me) has been heartily reaffirmed. I trudged through half of this book today, paying most attention during the commercials of the Tour de France coverage. I really didn't mind putting it down late this afternoon. (If interested in exploring, see the link on this page.)

(Bob and Pat Schroeder...I am thinking that you might enjoy this. Perhaps you could give a quick run through ...borrow my copy if you wish... and then give me some coaching.)

It's a wonderful feeling to truly believe that you are following God's intended path!

Back on the Farm

We pulled out of Ocean Isle Beach much later than expected last evening. The attendant at the OIB McDonald's drive through stared at the fork-mounted bike atop the car, pondered for a moment and said, "I love your bike. But how do you ride it with one wheel?" Later, around midnight, the policeman at a local license checkpoint asked, "What'dya do, hit a bicyclist or sumpin?" Go figure. Only in the South. It was a quiet, peaceful, late-night drive through country highways and old backroads shortcuts. I used the high beams more last night than I have in the past six years.

It's been a low-key day on the farm. I mostly stayed inside out of the 96-degree heat and read, completing both The Missional Church and Practicing Greatness. The latter was a quick, interesting read that I paid particular attention to given the author will be this summer's course instructor.

The heat is supposed to subside a bit over the weekend so I have one less excuse not to participate in the organized bike ride Saturday at Lake Norman. I haven't asked my bike about her interest. I am surprised she hasn't rebelled, what with being bolted to the top of the car for 1400 miles of interstate driving and sandblasted at the beach. But she's been pretty compliant thus far. Good natured, she is.

I was surprised that my younger brother has a weekend off of training in Washington and will drive down tomorrow evening. Some more unexpected time with his family will be a treat.

I have sneaked away this evening to my older brother's house for some computer time. We are lucky on the farm to have phone service, much less dial-up computer service. No cell service there in the valley either. Sort of nice being disconnected.

Thanks for the travel prayers. They, together with God's angels, have seen us safely over this segment of our travels.

Once again....Blessings.

Saying "Adios" to the Beach

Today is a pack up-and-relocate day as we travel inland 200 miles to our extended homes. We will spend the weekend with family...reading. There is a possibility that I will explore an organized bike ride on Saturday, depending upon weather and disposition of my spirit. Even now I am watching the completion of Stage 10 of the Tour de France and am inspired. It is curious that these racers talk about a stage that is "only 100 miles". Imagine.

Missional Church - A Vision for Sending the Church in North America is a stimulating read which I intend to complete this evening. Much of this work I have outlined in yellow. It is worthy of revisiting...heady, theological work for the most part, a nice change from the business leadership books of earlier this week.

There is much traveling over the next week. We ask for prayers for safety and joyous reunions.

Rightly "Anchored"

Several Septembers ago we made a trip to this beach house. A former member and young man that I had confirmed had asked that I marry him and his bride on the beach just west of here. It was a joy to be involved! (Though I must confess that I may be a little less thrilled when that same invitation comes from a child that I have baptized!)

The morning before the wedding was to take place I sat in the cottage considering what the preacher might say for this event, eyeing Weather Channel reports that were tracking an incoming hurricane and listening to the winds beginning to pick up outside...when there came a frantic knocking on the front door. A neighbor from across the channel reported that a cleat had pulled away from the dock and the family boat was drifting and threatening to damage the other boats. Together we managed to quickly secure the boat vy walking it up to the next dock where we tied it off in preparation for the coming storm.

I used that image in my sermon on the beach the following day. I mentioned how our human love for one another is never enough to sustain us, but together with God's blessings our relationships can flourish and grow and honor our Maker. God needs a place to attach and anchor His blessings so that we can withstand the storms that are sure to come. God, being a God of covenant, looks to our promises as that place of attachment.

As I look at that same boat this morning my thoughts shift from relationships to the current culture in which we live. Many of us, most assuredly the Gen-Xers, live a largely individualistic existence. Our spirituality is pondered and explored internally. We have no allegiance to or trust of institutions, especially the church. We claim not to understand the complicated dynamics of world politics but don't think we can support our policies abroad, so there is little patriotic allegiance. Our increasing technological capabilities allow us to exist with less and less face time with others. And, as I mentioned earlier in this blogging experiment, there is no meta narrative for younger persons today. We are not connected to any larger story. There is no outside authority, biblical of otherwise, that we turn to for counsel or direction.

When ministering during times of grief Christians often ask, "What do persons do at times like these when they don't have their faith?" Our culture is adrift and in need of anchoring! ...in need of someone to tether it to something (someOne) of eternal value and meaning ...and not just in times of grief. Our way of living is largely disconnected.

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I am now well into the reading of The Missional Church, written by a conglomeration of marvelous authors. I have left the business world now and am back squarely in the realm of theology and ecclesiology. This work is engaging, but a slow 'go.' I look forward to reporting back on it soon.
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After a 55 minute and 10 second conversation with Dell Customer Service on Saturday we determined that the problem with the laptop is a bad read switch. A new palm assembly has been overnighted to the local service tech who is supposed to call my by 11:00 this morning (it is now 11:20) to arrange to come and repair this afternoon. Of course we are operating on "Southern Time" here. Tuesday can often mean "next Tuesday" or "four weeks from Tuesday."

Our plans are to head inland to the family farm outside Salisbury, NC as soon as the repair happens, hopefully today. Then on Monday our itinerary takes us north to a cabin in Maine, a visit with some friends there and more hours of reading. Finding Internet connections becomes a little more challenging at that point, but as I mentioned to Pastor Stephen in an e-note this morning, I suspect that Starbucks has even managed its way to Moosehead Lake.


Blessings and more blessings to you! Thanks again for following along.

"The Myth of Measurement"

As you plod along, Leadership on the Line gets better... slightly. Regardless, it's been read, replaced in the book box and the required reading list has registered one more check mark.

In the final chapters I was struck by what the authors call "the myth of measurement." In regards to effective corporate leadership they suggest that "trying to take satisfaction in life from the numbers you ring up is ultimately no more successful than making survival your goal." There has to be more to meaningful business (or life) than the numbers. And yet, isn't this the way we evaluate our success?

It seems to me that we measure that which we most value. In the church we complete each year by submitting a parochial report to the synodical offices accounting for the numbers of new members, transferred members, deaths, baptisms, type of curriculum that the Vacation Bible School folks employed and the number of students learning from that curriculum, etc.. I have declared in the past that one of the best indicators of congregational health is worship attendance and have (falsely) prided myself on the fact that in eighteen years of ministry the worship attendance in the congregations that I have served has always risen from one year to the succeeding year. It hasn't always risen significantly, but it has risen. But then, what is "significant"? Again, we measure what we most value.

As the story goes, there was once 100 sheep in the wilderness. The Great Shepherd of those sheep left 99 of them where they were and went in search of the 1 that was lost. If we were to ask that Shepherd which measurement was of greatest value to Him he would have replied, "One." We measure what we most value.

What if for this year's parochial report we sent to the synod not the average number of members we had worshipping at Atonement on the weekend but rather the number of persons who didn't make it...who were still somewhere "out there" waiting to be sought? What if the measurement that was most valuable to us was not the count of club members that decided to show up but the number of those who were yet to have relationship with God through Jesus Christ? What if we came to consider the church not as the destination but the instrument by which God reached out to that which He values the most... i.e. the world? After all, "God so loved the Church that He gave His only Son." NOT!

Rick, the staff and I are planning a worship and educational series for early this fall entitled, "Reformation Reloaded." It is this sort of rethinking that will lie at the heart of this study, will serve as the foundation for the emerging, missional church and will occupy me for the upcoming weeks.

Each evening the sunset has elected to hide behind the clouds. So for now, I've borrowed someone else's image of an Ocean Isle Beach evening.

Peace!