Peter Fish

Just a brief note from my long ignored blog. At the church I serve, we collected "Peter Fish" coin banks from the kids at church. The proceeds were donated to the cause of world hunger.

On Thanksgiving morning, we found this on the table in the Council room.



Pretty cool. $641 from one Peter Fish. That's a trophy fish!

Peace

I turned on the news today and found out that President Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. My reaction, along with many in the United States and the world, was of surprise. Some strongly disagree with this choice simply because of the President’s political affiliation or his policies. Most reactions, including my own, came from the fact that Mr. Obama’s administration hasn’t yet achieved much measurable success in terms of making or keeping peace. As the story continued to develop, many supposed that the committee that chose Mr. Obama for the award considered his potential to be a peacemaker on the world stage.

To be clear, I have neither insight nor a strong opinion about whether this award was appropriate at this time. However, in reflection, it did confirm and affirm to me one central truth—there will be no true peace unless it comes by the hands of the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Jesus, after his arrest and he was presented to Pilate, gave us these familiar words to think about, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.” (John 18:36) For “now,” our Lord’s kingdom is not of this world, but it won’t always be that way. The Prince of Peace will come again and rule in a way that befits his title. Christ’s was inaugurated as King on this earth when He overcame death on the cross, but His kingdom has not yet fully come.

In the meantime, God’s Word calls us to live in the tension that we are currently citizens in two kingdoms. We are reminded to “store up our treasures in Heaven,” (Matthew 6:20) but also to be salt and light in this world (Matthew 5:13-16).

I think this dual-citizenship should challenge us as we respond to the issues that concern us as we continue life in the United States. Living a life as a disciple of Jesus is hard. We must reject the things that embody the godless immorality of our day, but also beware of those who look out for their own self-interests by disguising their selfishness with words baptized in religious language. I ponder Jesus’ words as he sent the disciples out for ministry, telling them, “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore, be shrewd as snakes and innocent as doves.” (Matthew 10:16)

Don’t settle for the party line. Don’t listen to the pundits and talk show hosts without a critical ear. Too often we let these voices form our opinions and then we ask God to jump on board with what we think. Instead, be a people of prayer. Be a people of God’s Word. Start at these points and then form your opinions. Pray to the Prince of Peace for his kingdom to fully come. With Paul may we say, “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14)

Black Hills 2009

Here are some of the pictures I took of our family's trip out to the Black Hills. Good times.

No Memoirs for Me.

Had an interesting conversation with my wife the other day. We talked about how neither one of us could become published poets or novelists. Paraphrasing our thoughts, we concluded that successful writers are able to bare their souls about the most personal of details--the secrets we keep to ourselves.

Some of the details we keep hidden are about ourselves--our doubts, our insecurities, our vanities, and etc. We'd also like to write about the people in our lives--the foibles that make us laugh, the behaviors that frustrate us, the characteristics or actions we deeply admire. Yet, to put these things to print or pixel would be dangerous, I think.

It seems that writers or poets who put their work "out there" are willing to take a risk that their readers won't like what they see. Certainly, there is an evaluation of the artistic merit of whatever is written, but I'm not talking about that. Writers sometimes give details about their own lives or about the easily recognized details of the lives of others. And, of course, those details are often less than flattering.

As a preacher, I've heard and often lived by the motto that the best illustrations contained in sermons contain details about the people who were at your previous church. Even the people where I am at now are colorful enough, I could never mention some of the things I witness for fear that from week to week, heads would swivel up and down the aisle with people wondering, "Who's the pastor speaking about this week?" I could write more about this, but some people reading this would know I am talking about them...

That said, I've found it interesting that people sometimes approach me after a service and comment, "You were talking directly to me today," or something to that effect. The interesting thing is that when I write sermons, I am usually writing them for myself. Sermons are essentially a confessional work for me. I share what I believe, or, speaking honestly, what I want to believe. For someone to say that this or that sermon "was for them," is simply an affirmation that I am not the only one out there who has questions about God.

There were times, especially early on in ministry, when I approached the pulpit like a hammer looking for nails. Those are times I care not to repeat. It doesn't keep me from wanting to do it sometimes, though. The bully pulpit has some instant gratification, but in the long term, it just creates more messes. In my experience, venting my frustration on Sunday mornings can sometime be like stomping on something a dog leaves behind. The stink is immediate, and unfortunately, it lingers far longer than you ever wished it would.

I draw no conclusions other than my first thought--I don't think I could ever be a published writer. I don't think I have the spine for it--or else, in my point of view, you could say that I love my family too much and would like to keep my friendships. Sometimes being a pastor is lonely enough. I don't need people to start avoiding me out of the worry that they are going to be fodder for some short story or doggerel that I attempt.

Yet, I end up with the thought that I am deceiving myself somewhat. I write these thoughts with the expectation that at least a few other people will read them. However guarded I might be about the details of life doesn't seem to mean that I don't want people to read what I say. So, maybe I want to be writer after all...but just a cowardly one.

Pictures of D.C. 2009

The other link messed up the format of the blog, so I had to go to a smaller size. Here's 350+ photos if you have the time.

Day 6 of D.C.

Sunday, June 7.

We began the day by sleeping in a bit and then traveling to the Washington D.C. CRC. We took the Metro north to Ft. Totten station where we caught the K6 bus to the church. We are neophytes to the art of bus transit. Getting on the bus--easy. Getting off the bus, a little help needed. We got on the right bus--exact change, no problem. I grew in confidence as we made our way towards the church. The street we needed to get off came on the screen--no hassles so far. We approached the street. I started to shift my weight to stand, and then the bus kept going and didn't stop. One block past, now two.... "Hey, umm, stop!" No one told us about the yellow cord along the window that you pull to request to get off the bus. Leah figured it out before I did, but the kindly fellow across the aisle saw our distress before she got to the cable. Thankfully he pulled the cord and the bus slowed to a stop about three blocks past where we needed to be.

We weren't very late to church and we enjoyed the fellowship after the service. I was approached after the service by an elderly woman who introduced herself as being from Hull originally. Her first name escapes me now, but she said that she was originally a Pals (now Monsma) and lived a couple blocks from what was then, Western Christian Academy. She attended Calvin College and then moved to D.C. in the 1940's. Now 91, she is a charter member of the Washington D.C. CRC. Graciously, we were spared more bus embarrassment by getting a ride back to the Ft. Totten Metro station and we headed back to the middle of the city.

We stopped briefly at home to change and then headed to Dupont Circle for some lunch. We also took a walk through the neighborhood which contains Embassy Row.

From there, we traveled to Arlington. For the girls, it was just a long walk, I think. For me, walking through that large cemetery was humbling. Thousands and thousands of tombstones of those killed in war or those who survived and are honored by being buried in this National Cemetery. We stopped at John F. Kennedy's gravesite and then made our way to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier to witness the changing of the guard. Heels click in unison. Expressions are grim and stoic. I tried to count silently to 21--anticipating the steps and the moves of the guards.
The guard's rifle clacks when it slaps into the guards hand. Each move of the sergeant at arms is precise, almost mechanical.

I would like to have stayed longer, but the girls had seen enough. I think in their youth, cemeteries are lost on them. They have a lot more living to do.

We headed back into the city and went to a restaurant named Luigis. This had to be one of the best meals that we had during our trip. We had a whole range of Italian food that we could have ordered, but we kept it simple. Pizza. Fantastic pizza. We copied a combination that we like to have at home. It has a Mediterranean feel to it: grilled chicken, feta cheese, artichoke hearts, tomatoes, and Greek olives. Oh my. I can still taste it.

We walked for a while after dinner, and made it to the White House again. I snapped a few more pictures and then we walked down to the Mall one last time. We enjoyed seeing the monuments illuminated at night. When we tired of walking, we hopped on the Metro for our final ride home.

Monday morning came. Time to leave. I went for one final run. It is a little strange to think that one can run beside the Capitol building in the AM and then 12 hours later be driving through the farmland of NW Iowa.

Day 5 of DC

Back on home turf. It is good to be back in Siouxland, but our visit to DC will for years be a rich experience in our family.

Pictures pending--I thought I'd take a moment to recap the final two days of our visit.

Saturday, June 6, was spent in and around the Mall, with a walk to the Jefferson Memorial later in the day.

I began the morning with a run. I've enjoyed running in D.C. It's certainly a different experience than running in Iowa. Not only is the scenery much different, but each block brings another corner, another stoplight to beat or direction to change, and a sidewalk to share with many other people (and dogs).

I made it a little past the Capitol that morning. The Mall was filled with people who had come for the Susan Komen Race for the Cure 5K run. There were thousands there. I don't know the route of the race, but it had to be shoulder to shoulder running for average to slow runners like myself. After thinking better of trying to jog through the masses, I turned back and ended up finishing my run criss-crossing through the blocks near our home for the week.

As a family, we headed up to the Mall a little before noon. We decided to start at the National Archives, where original copies of the Declaration of Independence, Bill of Rights, and the Constitution are stored. Those are only a few of many millions (billions?) of documents stored there for posterity. The original documents are extremely faded. Sealed in a elaborate case to control light and atmosphere, the documents are for the most part illegible in the light of the display room. The bold, large print is still readable, along with the famous signature of John Hancock.

After the Archives, we went to satisfy our growling stomachs. We had done some reading before our trip and had heard about the Mitsitam Cafe in the National Museum of the American Indian.

The cafe serves a variety of native foods from all different parts of the Americas--including South America. I had steamed mussels from the the Pacific Northwest, turtle soup from the Northern Woodlands (East Coast, and a lima bean salad from Peru. The girls had fry-bread/Indian tacos from the Plains, and Leah had honey-cured duck and wild rice and honeycress salad from the Northern Woodlands. Leah said the duck was great--she apologized that she didn't share because it was so good. This was evidenced by the well picked over bones on her plate. When I sat down with the steamed mussels, the girls were intrigued with the shells, but that was countered by the strong, fishy smell that came from the bowl. Novelty wears out quickly, apparently.

From there we went to the Museum of Natural History. Leah wanted to see the Hope diamond. She is still disappointed that this wasn't the diamond I purchased for our engagement. The museum was packed with people. We were a little claustrophobic. It was a Saturday and school groups were replaced with families of all shapes and sizes. It was also the first day since Wednesday that we didn't have rain, so there were a lot of people out and about. The day was gorgeous. So, we didn't stay long. To be honest, it is my opinion the Field Museum in Chicago is better. Maybe we didn't stay long enough, but I had a little of the, "been there, done that," feeling.

Since we started a little later in the day and had a late lunch, we took a break by the fountain at the National Sculpture Gallery and then decided to make the long walk over the Jefferson Memorial. The memorial is a little out of the way from the other monuments, so we found it to be a little less crowded. There was a light breeze and temperature was in the low 70's so the walking was easy. Other than the meal at the Mitsitam the Jefferson Memorial was highlight of my day.

We finished the day with a short ride home on the Metro and fixed up a light supper in our apartment--omelettes with prosciutto and cheddar cheese with a side of garden peas. A good end to a great day.

Day 4 of D.C.

Another day completed.

Destinations for the Day: The Supreme Court, Library of Congress, Capitol Building, Botanical Gardens, and a short outing to a jazz concert.

We have been in the habit this vacation of asking each family member what has been the "best part" and "worst part" of the day.

This is Lindsey's summary. Worst part: falling down in a puddle. She took care of this feat first thing this morning. This was the second day of rain we had here, so while walking to the Supreme Court, I think she was more interested in her umbrella than making sure one foot was in front of the other.

The rest of the day for Lindsey was something like this: Botanical Gardens were the best by far. (She liked the plants and we ate lunch there.) The Supreme Court was just a building full of heads (i.e. busts of former justices of the court) and lectures. The Library of Congress was bad because all the books were locked up in a box. (i.e. the 6,000+ book collection of Thomas Jefferson, encased in glass.) All she remembered from the Capitol was that a man tried to shoot the president, but the president beat him up (i.e. an assassination attempt on Andrew Jackson).

The tour of the Capitol was a highlight for me. Once again, the architecture and history of the building is impressive. We were given a tour by an intern in Sen. Charles Grassley's office. I highly recommend anyone visiting D.C. to call their senator or representative to arrange a tour. It was much better than anything the visitor's center at the Capitol offers. It was our family plus three more people. So, we got to hear everything the intern said, and we didn't feel like such a herd going through the tour. Also, we were able to take the private underground subway/train from the congressional office building to the Capitol building.

We came home a little early to relax and then we made our Eastern Market meal--prosciutto, parmesan, field peas, and spinach fettucine noodles, topped off with some cantaloupe for dessert.

In the evening, we walked through the rain to the National Gallery of the Arts where we heard a group from Howard University--Afro Blue. Great a cappella jazz.

Tomorrow, we are headed to the Nat'l Archives, Museum of Natural History, and....we're not quite sure yet. If the kids can stomach another art museum, we are probably headed to the Nat'l Gallery of Art.

Also, we're looking forward to sunshine tomorrow. We've had nice rains, but if asked, I prefer it on my garden, and not on my vacation. (I'm not expecting to be asked, but the forecast does sound a little more tourist friendly.)

Day 3 of D.C.

Coming to the close of Day 3, I think I can say that this was my favorite day so far. We made a tour of the memorials down on the Mall. We took the Metro as far as we could, then walked the rest of the way to the Lincoln Memorial. When asked, Emily said her least favorite part of the day was avoiding all the goose poop along the reflecting pool.

You really don't have a grasp on the size of this monument until you're directly in front of it. As Lincoln reclines in that big chair within the monument, Leah and I agreed that it brings to mind what the ancient Greek and Roman temples must have resembled.

We then visited the Korean War and Vietnam War memorials which sit on opposite sides of the Lincoln Memorial. I walked away from those memorials very humbled. The haggard, war-worn faces that were sculpted onto the statues of soldiers on patrol at the Korean Memorial give this place its power. Across the reflecting pool, name upon name engraved on stone at the Vietnam Memorial make me think of all the families that still miss a son or a daughter that never came back home.

This stands in contrast to the immense W.W. II Memorial. This place is big and expansive, and in my opinion, a bit sterile. This memorial doesn't speak of loss of life, it speaks of victory. It is a victor's memorial. It doesn't bear the heaviness of the other war memorials even though thousands more were killed.

Up the hill we went to the Washington Memorial. We had a brief pause as Emily and Lindsey said hello to Stonewall the Park Service patrol horse. He and his fellow officer were riding around the grounds making sure all was secure.

After a brief wait, up the Washington Memorial we went. We were treated to an excellent 360 degree view of the city.

Then, it was a to the American History Museum: Abe Lincoln's hat, George Washington's sword, the real Star Spangled Banner, and many more iconic items from our history. A great afternoon which I don't have enough time or patience to write about entirely. Glad I took pictures.

Another trip on the Metro where we stopped at Sanphan Thai restaurant. Crispy Duck, Chu Chi Shrimp, Thai Noodles--dinner goodness. We closed off the evening by stopping for more supplies at Eastern Market. Gruyere cheese, prosciutto bacon, field peas, all great things that we just can't get at home. It will make for a good supper tomorrow night.

Tomorrow, the Capitol Building.

D.C. Day 3

Another day done in D.C. The day ended early due to some thundershowers in the area. Hope some of this passed through Iowa on its way here.

Most of the day was great, though. We headed out this morning to our appointment to the White House. There were no unexpected cancellations, thankfully. We were warned that all appointments could be scheduled at a moments notice.

We arrived early via the Metro and spent a little time in the White House Visitor's center. About thirty minutes before our appointment, we showed up on the White House grounds. After a quick check of our I.D.'s and a check of our names on the itinerary, we were admitted into the White House. Our first stop was to security where we went through a metal detector. I would describe security here as "airport lite." Bags go through a scanning device or are given a quick look-through, but the due to the volume of crowds, everything is given nothing more than a cursory look. However, at the White House, we were not permitted to take any bags, cameras, pens, or anything else that could remotely be dangerous. So, no pictures of the White House yet. Perhaps later this week.

After the White House, we headed home for lunch. It's been great not having to pay for meals all the time. Fresh bread, good cheese, and fruit were on the lunch time menu. After lunch we headed out again. We thought about the International Spy Museum, but we found out that admission would have cost us over $60. Since there is so much to do around here for free, we decided to save our money and walk over to the Museum of American Art. The most interesting parts of the visit for me was an informational tour on the conservation (not restoration, we learned) of paintings. Later on, I especially enjoyed the gallery of the portraits of the American presidents. Many of the portraits of our presidents that we are familiar with are part of this display. Great to see up close.

Brian Williams from NBC has been doing a report from the White House. This has been fascinating since we have seen these things up close. Once again, its one of those existential moments where all the things that we have seen for years on the t.v. is now only a few miles, or sometimes, a few yards a way. Of course, a few yards away here, could just as well be hundreds of miles away with all the security around.

Tomorrow, more rain is forecast, but there are plenty of museums to still see. We have an appointment at the Washington Monument to keep as well.

Day 2 of D.C.

Doubling up today. I had planned to update yesterday, but I had problem establishing an internet connection. With some help from our hosts, all has been straightened out.

Today was a full one. We slept in a bit after our long day yesterday. After getting out bed, I laced up my running shoes and with GPS in hand (always handy for the directionally challenged) went out for a run. Zig-zagging along the streets, I made my way past the Capitol building and down to the mall. It was around 9:30 AM and there were several tour buses unloading kids in brightly colored t-shirts, all getting ready for their tour of all things Washington D.C. If any of you who read this are runners, you will be able to relate to the joy of having new scenery to see to distract you from the putting of one foot in front of the other. I had one of those existential moments when looking at the scenery, I came up with the wondrous realization, "Holy crap! I am running past the Capitol building of the U.S.!" Brilliant and insightful, don't you think?

After I returned back for a shower and a little breakfast, we took off for our day's visit. We purchased our week passes for the Metro and negotiated the public transit to the Smithsonian. We started at the "Castle," and were greeted with some familiar props and displays from the movie, "Night at the Museum 2."

From there we went to the Air & Space Museum. We had an appointment to keep at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing to keep in the afternoon, so we had to keep moving. We were a little rushed through the museum, but we stopped for the things we wanted to see. It's fascinating for me to see firsthand many of the artifacts of our cultural history just a few feet away. By they way, as you will see from the slideshow below, poor Able the monkey doesn't look nearly so happy and chipper as he did in the "Night at the Museum," movie.

After the Air and Space museum, we headed to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing. No photos allowed, other than what was in the display area. The presses, sorters, and packagers were for eyes only, no cameras permitted. As we peered down from the viewing balcony, one fellow held up a sign, in what must have been a well-rehearsed display. Handwritten, on a piece of cardboard, the sign said, "We're blue-collar workers, but we have made more money than Bill Gates ever has.

We finished up by taking the Metro to the Eastern Market for some fresh groceries. We ate well tonight--we cooked up fresh, tomato basil pasta, some mild Carolina loose sausage, and finished it off with a putanesque sauce. Delicious. We bought some yogurt peanuts and dried fruit to snack on tomorrow. Fresh bread and some good cheese for sandwiches as well. Good eats.

Good day and a great time so far. Tomorrow the White House. Once again, no pictures allowed, but the girls are holding out hopes that Sasha and Malia, the President's daughters, will invite them over to play. We shall see.

Capitol Wanderings

Zuidema vacation 2009. It's the "history" vacation this year--Washington D.C. This is a change of pace from what has been or the past two years, the "mountains, and get back to nature" vacation.

We left for Omaha on Sunday night after church. We stayed in a hotel so we wouldn't have to get ourselves and the kids up at o'dark thirty in the AM. Our trip was uneventful and we got a good night's sleep before our journey via the airways.

Thankfully, the flights all went well--no delays and our luggage followed us to D.C. The girls enjoyed the flying, especially the take-offs and landings.

After our arrival in Baltimore, we were "Super Shuttled" to our home for the week--a basement apartment about a mile from the Capitol building. We met our host, settled in for a bit, and then took a walk to a local Indian restaurant that was in the neighborhood--The White Tiger. We crossed the road to a small market to gather some groceries. After dropping them off at home, we finished the day by taking a little jaunt to the Capitol. Quite impressive by night. A great start for the week.

Sacramental Mistake

I would have loved to have heard the conversation the boy had with his parents when he got home last night.

His sister probably laughed out loud, a laugh that matched the highly amused grin that filled her face when she saw that her brother had snatched the bread, dipped it in the cup and received the sacrament. His brothers probably shook their heads and rolled their eyes. Yet, I wonder if they thought to themselves, "What was it like?"

We celebrated our Maundy Thursday service last night. As part of the service, we celebrated the Lord's Supper, commemorating that last meal Jesus had with his disciples in the Upper Room. As part of that celebration, I had baked loaves of bread and cut them into pieces. Two large cups were filled with grape juice--not wine anymore, I'm afraid.

When it came to share the elements, we asked the people to come forward and receive the sacrament. Intinction is the phrase we use for this method. I like this practice because it gets the people physically involved, there is something about getting up and going to receive rather than sitting in a pew and waiting for the trays of thimble-full glasses and the little pieces of Wonderbread to make the rounds. A pastor colleague of mine has called the practice of intinction, "rip and dip." It's a pretty accurate description, but I don't think I'm going to use that one in church any time soon.

Anyhow, the line moves through fairly quickly. I am holding the cup. "The blood of Christ for you," I repeat over and over, making eye contact with all who go through the line. Then comes this boy of 12 or 13 up to the front with his family. In our church, children don't receive the sacrament until they've publicly professed their faith, but they were invited to come forward to receive the blessing, "Jesus died for you." The boy must have been watching closely what was going on in front of him, because he knew what to do. Only when the bread touched his tongue and his sister grabbed his shoulders did he have any realization that he was breaking any rules.

The "rules" part of me thought to say, "No," but my desire to see a faith nourished kept me silent. I didn't want the pastor to add to any embarrassment. I grinned, and we moved on without a pause. Soon followed a woman who eagerly grasped the bread and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes then darted to the cup and then to her empty fingers. Her eyes widened and I saw a little flicker of panic as she processed what had happened. Her hand darted to the basket again and another piece of bread in hand, she dipped it into the cup. She wasn't going to be denied either. A double portion of the body of Christ wouldn't be too much.

These little events that happen in ministry are memorable. I think they speak to some of the greater truths of scripture. There is something to coming to the table hungry for grace. I'm glad the boy participated. I'm glad the woman came back for the second piece of bread. I have faith that the sacrament wasn't wasted on either of them. I think the "means of grace" that Calvinists associate with the sacraments were in full effect last night.

Take. Eat. Drink. Remember. Believe.

This is a Test...test 2

I am testing how this posts to my blog formatted from MS Word.

For your inner carnivore, I bring to you..."BACON EXPLOSION!"

I came across this on YouTube today. I actually took this recipe home with me from Michigan. It was published in this past Sunday's New York Times. My arteries are hardening and narrowing just looking at this. Looks good though. Real good.

Worship Symposium

O.K., I'm back from Michigan and the Worship Symposium....It was fantastic! We were greeted by a lot of snow, (so glad we flew) but everything else went very smoothly.



The worship services themselves were well worth the registration fee. The sessions were great as well. It was good to be back on Calvin's campus again, too.

If you are at all involved in worship at your churches, I would highly recommend this to all of you. Save the last weekend of January on your calendars. Some of the folks on the pictures: Craig Barnes, Dennis Dewey, Marva Dawn, Frank Thomas (not the baseball player), Luke A. Powery, and a cast of thousands...

Blogging from my phone...

It's been awhile since I've written, so I thought I'd check in.

I'm here in Grand Rapids attending the Calvin Symposium on Worship. I've been listening to Craig Barnes today who is talking about preaching the parables. The worship service this morning was spiritually engaging. The people from my church who came along are excited and enjoying what they are seeing and that is excitng to me.

It's refreshing to be doing some recharging this week. Good for the mind and good for the spirit.

Waterproof...

Today, I feel waterproof.

I've been reading the memoir of Barbara Brown Taylor, "Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith," (HarperSanFrancisco) and I found myself in the final pages of Chapter 9.

Brown narrates her journey from a being a religious seeker, or an "ecclesiastical harlot," as a priest called her, to her ordination as a priest in the Episcopal Church. Brown-Taylor writes elegantly. Having gone to see her speak several times, I think her appearance matches her prose. She is a tall woman, silver hair perfectly matched to her black clerical shirt and stiff white collar.

She doesn't wear the black shirt or the collar anymore, though. After fifteen years of ministry and serving two parishes, she was exhausted, emotionally and spiritually drained. She left the priesthood and she accepted a teaching position at a college close to the church she was serving at the time.

Chapter 9 of her book records her descent into depression and her quick escape from parish ministry. At the end of the chapter, she writes about being invited to a large pool party hosted by one of her former congregants. During the evening, she wanders past the pool where a number of children are splashing and playing. Suddenly, a fully clothed adult lands in the water, voluntarily or involuntarily, we don't know. Soon, chaos. People all around her are being grabbed and thrown into the water.

Brown-Taylor writes, "Several people hunting for victims turned toward me, their faces lit with smiles. When they saw who I was they turned away again so that I felt sad instead of glad. Whatever changes were occurring inside of me, I still looked waterproof to them."

I may have taken a long time to get to the point, but that's how I feel today--waterproof. I can't give too many details, because then I'll have said too much. Suffice it to say, I experienced one of those times in ministry where the people who normally want you to meet them where they are in life, now realize that you're too close and they're embarrassed or maybe angry that you've seen a part of them they didn't what seen. (Am I being too obscure???)

Anyhow, I find myself caught. I'm not caught in a crisis of calling where I am looking to escape my work as a pastor. However, I do mourn the fact that as a pastor, there are many areas of life where people will hold me at arm's length. I am welcome in their homes after a surgery or a time of grief and I am expected to provide that word or expression that gives comfort or hope. Yet in social gatherings, often conversation can be superficial. People don't want their pastor to know too much, or just as frightening, they don't want to know too much about their pastor.

I'm waterproof.

Taylor-Brown found redemption when someone grabbed her from behind and threw her in the pool. She writes, "I looked around at all of those shining people with makeup running down their cheeks, with hair plastered to their heads, and I was so happy to be one of them. If being ordained meant being set apart from them I did not want to be ordained anymore. I wanted to be human. I wanted to spit food and let snot run down my chin. I wanted to confess being as lost and found as anyone else without caring that my underwear showed through my wet clothes."

I'm ordained. With that ordination, I know that as long as I have that "Rev." in front of my name or people call me, "Pastor," I will always be set apart to some degree. Waterproof. I accept that for now. Thankfully, my wife and family are all too aware of my humanity.

I could write more, but I think I'll stop here. Like I wrote earlier, to say more, is to say too much. In the meantime, I'm going to roll up my pants and wade in the shallow end for a while. Scandalous!

Mountain, shmountain...

I have this relative of mine who lives out west and enjoys the scenery by hiking here, skiing there, and biking everywhere. We love to visit him, his wife, and son (and dog), but just so you know, we've got some of the great outdoors here, too.

I've posted some pictures of my great outdoor adventures, too. Out here in the flatlands, we don't burden God with creating our entertainment, we just wait for a diesel payloader to do it for us.

Lindsey and I had a good time this Sunday afternoon playing around outside. The weather was beautiful. Temperatures hovered around 30 degrees--a veritable heat wave--and we had clear skies--a beautiful blue as you will see from the snapshots.

So, with the panorama of Hull as a backdrop, I bask in the schadenfreude that will come when my Mile High relative looks with envy and longing at the grandeur of yon snowpile.

Enjoy.

Christmas lights...

O.K., there tree is down, safely packed in a box and hauled down to the basement. (We went from the "real thing" to artificial a few years ago after our cats kept scattering needles all over the house and drinking all the water in the pan underneath the tree.) Ornaments are arranged in their boxes and the inside of the house is in post-Christmas, non-Advent mode.

I still have my Christmas lights on outside. Is there a Miss Manners to tell me when I should take them down? I guess I feel if I go to the work of hanging them, is four weeks really long enough to leave them up? Also, January is such a dreary month. I think leaving my lights up brings a little cheer to the otherwise bleak evenings.

How long can I leave them up and not be called 1)strange, because I have lights up when it's not the Christmas season, or 2) lazy, because it's January, so take them down already.

Granted, my light display is pretty modest. (The picture I posted is not my home. I put that in for effect.) I'm guessing I could have them taken down and put away in a half hour or so, but do I want to?

For the three or four of you who stumble upon this while trying to visit someplace else on the internet, do you have any opinions?

Airhog!

Airhog 2008 from Todd Z. on Vimeo.

No harm, no foul.

Video of Christmas Eve 2008

Christmas Eve 2008 from Todd Z. on Vimeo.

If this doesn't link to Facebook, you can see the video at www.threeoclockcoffee.blogspot.com

Christmas 2008

Here are some pictures from the past couple weeks. I will upload a couple videos a little later.