Walking in the footsteps of Giants.

Thursday John and I boarded a train and headed for Wittenberg. For those of you who are church enthusiasts like myself, know this to be one of the main places of the reformation. It is the home of Martin Luther. This is where he lived and preached, and eventually nailed his 95 thesis to the door.

It is a town with rich history said by many to be the birthplace of the reformation, where the first protestant service was held. As John and I strolled the cobble stone streets, I couldn't help but be amazed at the thought that Luther had walked these same streets. Had looked at the same canals. Had heard the same church bells ringing.

John and I went by the City church, saw the door where Luther had nailed his thesis to the door. And we went to the church where he preached. Listened to the organ he would have heard. And as we sat in those church pews I couldn't help but be amazed by how much changed because a few people said, "I don't think this is how the church is supposed to be. I don't think this is what Jesus had intended." And 500 years later, we still know his name. We worship as we do, we each have our own bibles, we all sing hymns together, ministers can be married, all because of people like Luther. We are where we are because of the giants of our faith. People who would never consider themselves as such. But who asked the big questions. I've always though of Luther's thesis as statements, and in some ways they were, but they were also questions. The questions no one wanted to ask. No one had answers for.

Today we have our own questions. The questions we are only beginning to find the courage to ask. And it has me humbled. And has me wondering, who will emerge asking the big questions next? Who will we still be talking about 500 years from now? Do we have the courage to hear what they are saying? Are we ready to listen? I wrote about change a little while ago. It feels like it is coming. Are we ready? Will we listen to the voices speaking? Walking in the footsteps of giants. Where will they lead next?

Building Castles Out of Sand

Wednesday I had planned to head to Wittenberg with John. But I was too tired after getting in at 6:30 Wednesday morning, instead of 7:30pm Tuesday evening. So after some sleep, John and I headed for the beach. The beach is along the Elbe river, a tidal river in Hamburg, which is used for a great deal of port traffic. Once we arrived, John and I got down to the business of building sand castles. This is serious business when you're a nine year old boy. And build we did. One that was washed away almost immediately by the waves caused by a tanker. So we moved further up shore. And built two more. This was great, until the tide got higher, then a cargo ship passed, and no more castles.

So we moved again. Still further up-shore and built one more. It was still there when we headed home. All this sand castle building made me think of a scripture passage (a common occurrence in my line of work). The one where Jesus is talking about building houses on sand. And how it is a really really bad idea. What have we been building on sand? Which parts of our current faith practices are getting washed in the waves? Are we desperately trying to save them? Rebuilding as fast as we can, instead of picking up and moving up the beach, or even onto higher ground, with sturdier material? Have we forsaken the tougher sturdier material, for a better view? Because it is easier to build closer to the water, the sand is already wet, and the view of the river is certainly better. Are there parts of our church that we need to have washed away in the water? Parts that simply don't belong anymore, or never really did? What do we need to reclaim? What about your personal faith? Which parts are built on rock and can withstand anything, and which parts might be hit by a wave at any given moment? I don't know where all these thoughts are pointing yet, but I do know as I continue to find sand in my socks, shoes, pockets, hair, water bottle, etc, etc ,etc. I will continue to wonder.

Delays delays delays...

Germany is famous for its punctuality. Particularly their trains. If it is late, it's maybe 5 or ten minutes. And their trains had never been down, at least not it the last 30 years. Until Tuesday. Tuesday I arrived on a flight from Seattle 15 minutes late. Not bad right? Then I got my train ticket and waited for my train. When it was supposed to arrive in 5 minutes, the train station closed. The whole thing. They evacuated the station due to trouble with the roof. Well, I think that's why, they evacuated in German.

And then proceeded to, with a great deal of difficulty, redirect us to the main station in Frankfurt. This took me 4 hours as there was no trains going anywhere. None. The entire ICE train system was shut down for over 4 hours. No one went anywhere. Trains stopped in the middle of nowhere. People everywhere were freaking out. And the main train station was getting really really busy. And still no trains were going to the airport. It was, as you might expect, a very big mess. People were tired, and stressed, and frustrated. I, myself, spent 7 hours in train stations, rather than the 20 minutes had my plane and train been on time. And the trains that did eventually run were all going slower. So my 4 hour trip, took closer to 5. Why am I telling you all this you might ask. Well as it was happening I was trying to figure out what I'd say about it. What God was saying to me in the midst of the craziness. And several thoughts occurred to me. I considered writing about God's sense of humour, and how it so often not our sense of humour. The day before I left I preached a sermon including the idea of letting go of schedules. I thought about writing about those times you just want to yell at God. When frustration gets the best of you, and you're sure God is punishing you for something, anything, because this darn trip will never end and you'll never make it where you're going and no one can tell you why the last four trains you tried to take never arrived. Anywhere. They just vanished. But in the end, my trip to Hamburg ended up being about the little things. Getting to sit beside the person from Hamburg on the plane, because he made the connection because the flight was delayed. Meeting gracious information booth people, who after being yelled at by at least 6 people in a row, still greeted you with a smile to help you figure out a different train, that might, you know, maybe eventually come. To making the final stretch of your trip with an expat and a native German, who shared their favourite parts of German. To the night ride on a train. Still, quiet, and peaceful, when the rest of the world is asleep. That morning as I went for a walk, watched the sun come up, and tried to process any thought (I'd been up for almost 40 hours at this point). I couldn't help but think of all I'd have missed if everything had worked as it should. Including all of how I spent the next day. And these are certainly memories of my trip I will treasure. I already knew I had a lot to learn about how and where God will speak, a reminder always seems to come at the most startling moments.

Bye Bye Baby

I'm sitting here in the airport waiting for my plane to arrive so I can depart for my spiritual pilgrimage. And yes I am ridiculously excited, there's a part of me that is sad to be leaving. It has me thinking about the cost of discipleship. Sometimes following where God calls is easy. But I've found that more often than not, it isn't. There's alway something else. Something you're leaving behind. Something you're giving up. Something. Family, friends, a career, a home, something. When Jesus called the disciples, they left behind their nets, their very way of life. It couldn't have been easy. So often we talk about following Christ as life changing and wonderful. And a lot of the time it is. But sometimes it's filled with hard decisions, with hope and doubt. With joy and sadness. What has brought all this on you might ask, as I prepare for the trip of a lifetime? The answer is simple. Banner. My brand new nephew. Hard to leave that little face behind. I mean isn't he cute?

But listening for God's call often means letting go of the very things we would prefer to hold tightest to. So I bid goodbye to Banner, and Canada, and say, mostly wholeheartedly, "Okay God, what's next?"

Change - That dirty dirty word

Our church is changing. I know, shocking isn't it. And it's changing fast. Faster than most of us are comfortable with. We would much rather things stay the same. Or go back to how they were. Or at least slow down. But change is coming whether we are ready or not.

Knowing how to navigate that change, knowing what to hold onto and what to let go of, knowing what next thing to grasp hold of, or what things from our near, or even ancient past we need to rekindle, renew and reclaim, is a challenge and a struggle for all of us. Those of us in leadership in the church face it twofold. We are called by God in our own right as Christians, to follow Jesus wherever he leads. And we are called by God, and asked by the church, to lead God's people at the same time. And in times where so much is changing - it has me asking, how exactly do we do that? How do we remain true to our own calling, and help others to hear and know where they are called? What do we need? Is it even possible? Part of asking that question for has had me reflecting on major times of change in the history of the church. We as a Christian church, have been around in some form or another for a long time. And I have no doubt that God is not done with us yet. That what Jesus started is not ending, simply changing. As it has before. As it likely will again. Now I'm asking, how did leaders do this in the past? What did all those prophets know? How did they tell others? And what might they be telling us now? All these questions and more, are what has lead me to decide to go on a Spiritual Pilgrimage for my study leave this year. So I'm headed to the sights of our reformers and church fore-bearers. To the homes of mystics and monks, and churches of great preachers - who spoke in churches and fields. It is my hope that I will learn a ton. And be nourished. And gain even new questions that need to be asked. As I travel, I will share my thoughts, insights, and mostly questions here, with anyone who might what to know what I'm seeing and thinking. It is my hope that my congregations back home in Canada will travel with me in a way - asking their own questions, and providing their own insights. As we all try to follow Christ together, we all have to face up to change - that dirty, dirty word.

Mihuros Ang Hangin

Well my time to the Philippines has come to a close. So it is with a heavy heart that I prepare to return to Canada. I cannot help but think that I may never have expected most of what I have experienced in the last 4 and a half months, but I would also not trade a single moment of it. I have been changed, and I hope that I remain so. I am leaving, but a piece of me is remaining here in the Philippines.
I began this journey with the idea of the Chinook and spirit moving me, and it is the same idea I again return to. Mihuros Ang Hangin is the Cuebeno phrase speaking of wind performing an action on earth. And that is the most apt description that I have ever come across. So as I await my plane, with the hope and prayer that Mihuros ang hangin will bring me back again one day – and old familiar hymn plays in my head….

Spirit, spirit of gentleness blow through the wilderness calling and free…. Spirit, spirit of restlessness, stir me from placidness, wind, wind on the sea.

One Body of Christ

During the last week of May the United Church of Christ in the Philippines (UCCP) held their 9th Quadrennial General Assembly. The week kicked off with opening worship followed by... a parade. Walking through the streets of downtown Dumaguete were around 500 delegates, Bishops, Pastors, and Observers - all of whom had come out to support the UCCP and to celebrate the new phase of the church. The elation of this first grand opening did not last throughout however. As with any church there was a mix of opinions and, naturally, some discord resulted. The ideas of what direction the UCCP should be taking differed quite widely. This discord, however, came from a place of love.
The theme of the assembly was "Discerning and Obeying God's will in these Critical times" Any difference of opinion arose from how best to do this. The love and passion that the people of the UCP have for their church and their country was evident. Knowing how to proceed and remain prophetic in a climate of fear from exra-judical killings (23 pastors and lay leaders in the UCCP have been killed under GMA - with no justice in sight) is nto a simple answer. The people of the UCCP are showing us in their attempt just what it means to be One Body of Christ.

And so we continue to stand in solidarity with them, and wish their new general Secretary Bishop Ruel Marigza well as they move in to their next quadrenium.