I can't say that I'll even get the time to write Conquered Words for last month and, since it is the 11th already, maybe we'll just rock a combined June/July thing...actually, I'm going to do that because this is my blog and I can do what I want. So there.
Life is too busy right now for too much blogging as I am certainly involved in much more important things, such as the day I marry my high school sweetheart, Ali. That is in 13 days, but who's counting?
Yesterday I had the great privilege of officiating Sean Conlin and Monica Grimland's wedding. They are now Mr. and Mrs. Sean Conlin because I said so (because I have "authority vested in me"). Shabamsies! It was a very well done wedding and an incredible joy to marry my friends.
In 13 days, I'll be up to bat and I'm excited to see many of you there. Been waiting for this day for some times now.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The Boundaries of Their Dwelling Place
I grew up reading missionary letters. With my grandparents' career with the Christian mission in the Philippines, we have many family friends who are all over the world. Besides these family ties, I have many personal friends who have decided to take the leap of traveling across the world to minister to a specific location. Other than the immense courage that these folks hold, perhaps their most noble attribute is their intentionality.
The letters that they send reflect a total intention to love the place where they live. They say things like, "We're finally having tea with our neighbor, who has ignored us for the last six months and we're praying that through this tea date they would understand that we love them and Jesus loves them and that is all." They are the most intentional citizens. Everything that they do is for the reason that the world may know Christ and his love.
I'm not sure I live like that.
Just yesterday, I spent about thirteen hours moving and cleaning. I got my stuff out of my apartment on 23rd and W Burnside and, through several trips, made my way to the apartment Ali and I will live in right in the heart of John's Landing. John's Landing is the greatest neighborhood you've never heard of, Portland's best kept secret. And as I moved in my stuff and Ali came over, I started to think very intentionally about this apartment.
Over Ali's famous noodle stir-fry, we sat on the floor and prayed that our apartment wouldn't just be an apartment, but a sanctuary; a place where people could experience God. A place of peace, life, and hospitality.
This morning, I walked to Coffee Plant (a place I'm sure I'll spend many mornings) and prayed for the neighborhood and what God would have me do with the people here. It's full of medical students, teachers, and young professionals. It's quiet but lively, blue collar and collegiate. What are we to do here?
I meditated on Paul's words, which he speaks to the Athenian skeptics on Mars Hill in Acts 17:26
Join me?
The letters that they send reflect a total intention to love the place where they live. They say things like, "We're finally having tea with our neighbor, who has ignored us for the last six months and we're praying that through this tea date they would understand that we love them and Jesus loves them and that is all." They are the most intentional citizens. Everything that they do is for the reason that the world may know Christ and his love.
I'm not sure I live like that.
Just yesterday, I spent about thirteen hours moving and cleaning. I got my stuff out of my apartment on 23rd and W Burnside and, through several trips, made my way to the apartment Ali and I will live in right in the heart of John's Landing. John's Landing is the greatest neighborhood you've never heard of, Portland's best kept secret. And as I moved in my stuff and Ali came over, I started to think very intentionally about this apartment.Over Ali's famous noodle stir-fry, we sat on the floor and prayed that our apartment wouldn't just be an apartment, but a sanctuary; a place where people could experience God. A place of peace, life, and hospitality.
This morning, I walked to Coffee Plant (a place I'm sure I'll spend many mornings) and prayed for the neighborhood and what God would have me do with the people here. It's full of medical students, teachers, and young professionals. It's quiet but lively, blue collar and collegiate. What are we to do here?
I meditated on Paul's words, which he speaks to the Athenian skeptics on Mars Hill in Acts 17:26
"And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted period and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him."You live where you live for a reason - it's a good time to start living like there's a little more weight to our circumstances.
Join me?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Dan Harris and the New Face of Evangelicalism
The major news networks have had a lot of trouble finding their place in today's journalistic media. Because I don't have cable, I just don't get my news from TV. I get my news from the Internet (like a real man) and I get linked to small TV spots randomly. This is where Dan Harris comes in. Harris covered Mars Hill's debate on the devil last year and I really appreciated his inquisitive yet respectful eye on evangelicalism. He seems very interested on the church, but refuses to be cynical. He recently filed this report on the new face of evangelicalism and I really hope you have 10 minutes sometime soon to watch this.
The real question: Is Dan Harris' shirt even buttoned at all? What a man...
The real question: Is Dan Harris' shirt even buttoned at all? What a man...
Monday, June 14, 2010
You Must Have An Eye For These Things (A Tribute to Alex Ward)
The wait for the streetcar on 11th and Taylor is always interesting. Actually, the wait for any transportation device on any street corner in any major metropolis is quite interesting if you have the right eye. I often do.
I learned to have this eye for people from my good friend Alex Ward. Alex cannot enter any space or plane without examining it with a keen eye for the absurd or the out-of-the-ordinary. He catches things that, even in the strangest circumstances, lies not in the center of the situation, but on the peripheral.
I'll give you an example.
This last weekend at the Sasquatch! Music Festival, there were many weird people. In fact, everyone there is very, very weird. John's mom, Clare, asked him, "Did you see any weird people?" and I heard him answer, "Yeah, mom, everyone is weird." You just stop noticing.
But the second night, after being rocked by Public Enemy, Massive Attack, and others, we were walking back to our campsite when we saw this:
One young, white male standing completely still and holding a battery powered boom-box. Beneath him, was his friend, who was lying on the ground and waving his arms back and forth in the air and singing amorphously. We were all laughing at this because it was so typically absurd for the festival.
But Alex pointed out something else.
Deep in the distance, probably 100 yards away, he spotted a young girl sitting alone in the open field. She was sitting and dancing, which is basically the way people "dance" when they are too tired or drunk or all of the above. She sat out there alone, in the dark, just having a blast sitting and "dancing." Her body moved strangely, and being all alone, the site made you wonder so many things I don't have time to write.
This is my friend Alex. He's a professional when it comes to noticing the behavior of humans. Because he has done this since I first met him at 16, he and I have moments in our lives that we call "Ward Moments" or "Nye Moments," which all have to do with the strange things that happen on the fringes of society that normal people either wouldn't notice, or wouldn't pick out amongst the crowd. So often, we laugh to ourselves because no one else would understand. We love people running in street clothes and we love the way people eat burritos.
Because of my friendship with Alex, I don't just wait for the streetcar or eat my lunch on the Park Blocks alone, but I wait for the weird. We are very strange people. Everything from the way someone is eating to how they listen to their music to what location they are in that is in connection with what they are doing. I like to watch people be people and I have Ward to thank for that.
But sometimes these things are just handed to you. Sometimes you don't look, you don't ask for it, but people identify you as a person they want to reveal themselves to.
That's what happened this morning. I'm waiting for the streetcar when a round man in hiking boots, short cargo shorts, and a huge hoodie approached me saying, "Can't believe those library security guards wear bulletproof vests."
"Yeah," I said.
"They didn't have to do that when my grand-daddy was alive," he said. "They used to round up the homeless guys and ship 'em out to build all the state parks we enjoy today. They'd teach 'em a trade and sober 'em up. The government did good things for them and they were thankful. You can't do that anymore, it's all about meth and cocaine." When he says, "cocaine," he emphasizes the second "c" and lets the rest of the word fall off.
"It's those [expletive] chemicals. Nobody wants to grab a beer anymore, everyone just wants to get high," he concludes.
I'm interested now.
"I see what you mean. It's more difficult to sober up and teach a man a trade when he's chemically dependent on something like meth. It's terrible." That was what I decided to add to the conversation, and that's what ended the conversation. Or at least I thought.
The man and I both get on the streetcar, take standing positions next to one another. It's quiet for a long time as I looked around the streetcar for the unusual, but he beat me to it.
He points with his index finger down to a pair of galoshes warn by a young urbane girl.
I give him a look.
"Where I come from, you wear those boots to slop pigs," he said quickly.
"Yeah," I chuckled.
"That chick wouldn't know the first thing about sloppin' pigs," he continues. When he says "sloppin,'" he gives his inflection some grunt, which seems to catch the attention of the bystanders. I think she can hear us because she sort of looks around to see who's talking on the silent morning streetcar.
"Crazy world," he says.
It is a crazy world, I thought as he cleared his throat at an inappropriate volume. And I have Alex Ward to thank for teaching me to notice that this world we live in is as serene as it is chaotic, and that, my friends, is precisely what makes it so beautiful.
I learned to have this eye for people from my good friend Alex Ward. Alex cannot enter any space or plane without examining it with a keen eye for the absurd or the out-of-the-ordinary. He catches things that, even in the strangest circumstances, lies not in the center of the situation, but on the peripheral.
I'll give you an example.
This last weekend at the Sasquatch! Music Festival, there were many weird people. In fact, everyone there is very, very weird. John's mom, Clare, asked him, "Did you see any weird people?" and I heard him answer, "Yeah, mom, everyone is weird." You just stop noticing.
But the second night, after being rocked by Public Enemy, Massive Attack, and others, we were walking back to our campsite when we saw this:
One young, white male standing completely still and holding a battery powered boom-box. Beneath him, was his friend, who was lying on the ground and waving his arms back and forth in the air and singing amorphously. We were all laughing at this because it was so typically absurd for the festival.
But Alex pointed out something else.
Deep in the distance, probably 100 yards away, he spotted a young girl sitting alone in the open field. She was sitting and dancing, which is basically the way people "dance" when they are too tired or drunk or all of the above. She sat out there alone, in the dark, just having a blast sitting and "dancing." Her body moved strangely, and being all alone, the site made you wonder so many things I don't have time to write.
This is my friend Alex. He's a professional when it comes to noticing the behavior of humans. Because he has done this since I first met him at 16, he and I have moments in our lives that we call "Ward Moments" or "Nye Moments," which all have to do with the strange things that happen on the fringes of society that normal people either wouldn't notice, or wouldn't pick out amongst the crowd. So often, we laugh to ourselves because no one else would understand. We love people running in street clothes and we love the way people eat burritos.
Because of my friendship with Alex, I don't just wait for the streetcar or eat my lunch on the Park Blocks alone, but I wait for the weird. We are very strange people. Everything from the way someone is eating to how they listen to their music to what location they are in that is in connection with what they are doing. I like to watch people be people and I have Ward to thank for that.
But sometimes these things are just handed to you. Sometimes you don't look, you don't ask for it, but people identify you as a person they want to reveal themselves to.
That's what happened this morning. I'm waiting for the streetcar when a round man in hiking boots, short cargo shorts, and a huge hoodie approached me saying, "Can't believe those library security guards wear bulletproof vests."
"Yeah," I said.
"They didn't have to do that when my grand-daddy was alive," he said. "They used to round up the homeless guys and ship 'em out to build all the state parks we enjoy today. They'd teach 'em a trade and sober 'em up. The government did good things for them and they were thankful. You can't do that anymore, it's all about meth and cocaine." When he says, "cocaine," he emphasizes the second "c" and lets the rest of the word fall off.
"It's those [expletive] chemicals. Nobody wants to grab a beer anymore, everyone just wants to get high," he concludes.
I'm interested now.
"I see what you mean. It's more difficult to sober up and teach a man a trade when he's chemically dependent on something like meth. It's terrible." That was what I decided to add to the conversation, and that's what ended the conversation. Or at least I thought.
The man and I both get on the streetcar, take standing positions next to one another. It's quiet for a long time as I looked around the streetcar for the unusual, but he beat me to it.
He points with his index finger down to a pair of galoshes warn by a young urbane girl.
I give him a look.
"Where I come from, you wear those boots to slop pigs," he said quickly.
"Yeah," I chuckled.
"That chick wouldn't know the first thing about sloppin' pigs," he continues. When he says "sloppin,'" he gives his inflection some grunt, which seems to catch the attention of the bystanders. I think she can hear us because she sort of looks around to see who's talking on the silent morning streetcar.
"Crazy world," he says.
It is a crazy world, I thought as he cleared his throat at an inappropriate volume. And I have Alex Ward to thank for teaching me to notice that this world we live in is as serene as it is chaotic, and that, my friends, is precisely what makes it so beautiful.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Words to Be Conquered
Ok, so enough of you have harassed me to put up my summer reading list that I'm just going to do this quickly to make you peasants happy.
Here's the deal, though, this list is not final. NOT FINAL. And while I would like to stick to this list, I cannot promise that it will contradict itself. Stay tuned for my "Conquered Words" series to see if I finished these books this summer and, if I did, if they were any good or not. This whole summer will be crazy, so we'll see what happens. HERE WE GOOOO.
They're in list form and have just brief comments about what they are and maybe why I want to read them or how I heard about them. If you want to know more about them, I suggest Amazon because I love Amazon. Or Powell's if you're in Portland.
1) Columbine by Dave Cullen. Chronicles the April 1999 shootings in Colorado. Cullen has spent 10 years researching and interviewing people in order to write this. It's also supposed to just be a great commentary on 21st century youth.
2) My Losing Season by Pat Conroy. Alex Ward gave me this book and read me the introduction on the porch of my apartment while it rained. I must read it now. All about 1960s basketball through Conroy's personal story of playing as a young scrappy point guard under the home of an abusive dad.
3) In Dubious Battle by John Steinbeck. I read one Steinbeck every summer and I suppose this will be this year's.
4) Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi. The famous story of an English teacher in Tehran who formed a secret society of Iranians who read Lolita together. Stories about youth in the middle east and how literature affected them.
5) Who's Your City by Richard Florida. Florida is probably today's leading voice in global urban studies. He says that despite globalization, where you live really matters, and he's supposed to have a good case.
6) How to Be Good by Nick Hornby. Some people really rag on Hornby, but I think the guy is phenomenal. He has this niche that not many people pick up on and I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about that "good love" as well as he talks about it. In an email correspondence I had with a Duke professor, he told me to read this particular Hornby piece.
7) Lewis' Space Trilogy. I just don't know if I'll get there this summer...
So...What are you reading? Let me guess, your iPhone.
Here's the deal, though, this list is not final. NOT FINAL. And while I would like to stick to this list, I cannot promise that it will contradict itself. Stay tuned for my "Conquered Words" series to see if I finished these books this summer and, if I did, if they were any good or not. This whole summer will be crazy, so we'll see what happens. HERE WE GOOOO.
They're in list form and have just brief comments about what they are and maybe why I want to read them or how I heard about them. If you want to know more about them, I suggest Amazon because I love Amazon. Or Powell's if you're in Portland.
1) Columbine by Dave Cullen. Chronicles the April 1999 shootings in Colorado. Cullen has spent 10 years researching and interviewing people in order to write this. It's also supposed to just be a great commentary on 21st century youth.
2) My Losing Season by Pat Conroy. Alex Ward gave me this book and read me the introduction on the porch of my apartment while it rained. I must read it now. All about 1960s basketball through Conroy's personal story of playing as a young scrappy point guard under the home of an abusive dad.
3) In Dubious Battle by John Steinbeck. I read one Steinbeck every summer and I suppose this will be this year's.
4) Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi. The famous story of an English teacher in Tehran who formed a secret society of Iranians who read Lolita together. Stories about youth in the middle east and how literature affected them.
5) Who's Your City by Richard Florida. Florida is probably today's leading voice in global urban studies. He says that despite globalization, where you live really matters, and he's supposed to have a good case.
6) How to Be Good by Nick Hornby. Some people really rag on Hornby, but I think the guy is phenomenal. He has this niche that not many people pick up on and I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about that "good love" as well as he talks about it. In an email correspondence I had with a Duke professor, he told me to read this particular Hornby piece.
7) Lewis' Space Trilogy. I just don't know if I'll get there this summer...
So...What are you reading? Let me guess, your iPhone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
