Mt. Shasta Part 2

It seems that the best way to build and sustain relationships is to have some type of project or shared experience. For me and two of my best friends from my college years, we have started a tradition of hiking Mt. Shasta together every year in June. We had to turn back before we made it to the top due to stormy conditions, but it was still quite an experience. Marty's Mom told him he had to take care of me and Paul since we have families back home, and he did good. We all made it back. There was that time I slid into Paul and he went flying down the mountain out of control, his helmet flying off, stopping just in time to jump out of the way of a large rock I kicked towards him...but it was really not that big of a deal.
Next year we may make it a longer trip and camp out half way up the mountain to adjust to the altitude and skip out on the pounding headaches and altitude sickness, but we're a bit stubborn and want to make it in one shot. We'll see.

Picture Share

Location, location, location

I've been thinking a lot lately about where we live and other places we would like to live someday. Where people live gives them unique opportunities to be a part of God's Kingdom breaking in. I'm not saying one place is better than another, but that there are a wide variety of doors that will be opened to practice love in a wide variety of settings.

This morning I couldn't find a place to lock my bike in front of the coffee shop, so I went across the street. As I walked towards the corner to lock my bike, I realized that about three feet away there is a memorial set up for someone who was shot a couple days ago. I read about it on sfgate.com and realized it was in the middle of my normal stomping grounds, but I had forgotten. I hesitated, wondering if there was some sort of etiquette for how close one is to park his bike to a memorial for a 16 year old boy who was shot 2 or 3 days ago. I decided to lock it up, and then stared at the 3 inches in between my back tire and the row of candles. For a moment I could not move. I just stood there and pondered life and death and all that is in between. It was a strange start to my day, but in many ways it put things in perspective.

Memorizing?

Anyone up for memorizing the Sermon on the Mount with me? I've been planning on doing it for a few years now, but my memorization skills seem to have eroded since my school years. If you're not local, maybe we could have some kind of on-line component to the process. It seems these kinds of things are best done with other people. I'd like to have it totally memorized by the end of August if not earlier...

Blessed

When I played basketball in college, there was this 30 year old guy with dreadlocks who was on our team. He was a wonderful character full of rich stories...hanging out with Will Smith on his 21st birthday, making 20 Grand a month selling drugs as a young adult, growing up as an African-American in the deep South, his years in prison, etc. When we would exchange the usual greeting, "Hey, what's up?" or "Hey, how are ya?" he would always reply, "I'm blessed, man. I'm blessed." I always thought it was a strange answer, even if it was true. Sometimes it actually bothered me as I wondered if the response was backed by a sincere feeling of being blessed. I wished he would just say that he was having a bad day and be "authentic" like Christians are supposed to be, but I suppose he was grateful for where he was at in life. I think I'm still learning to live with the attitude that I am blessed by my Father and Creator in the midst of a world and systems that seem to broken and confused.

This weekend I was reminded that I am blessed. On Friday night I saw a wonderful concert at the Fillmore featuring David Bazaan of Pedro the Lion and Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie fame with tickets given to me by a woman who is a volunteer leader at a youth group that we host for a Jesus Dojo during Spring Break every year. My brother, a long time David Bazaan fan, was able to join me.

On Saturday I woke up early and drove to the prison at San Quentin to play some basketball. It was a picturesque day, abnormally sunny and warm. I enjoyed connecting with inmates and the slowly growing relationships I have with them. As we went through security we were joined by some hip looking guys dressed in black carrying a bunch of geaar. It turns out it was Michael Franti and Spearhead, who have a cult following in certain places such as San Francisco. They headline the Power to the Peaceful concert in Golden Gate Park. As we played in the game with the inmates Spearhead played in the background, opening their set with a prayer for unity and reconciliation, themes that have been on my mind lately. A friend remarked that it felt like we should take off our shirts and grab a seat on the lawn with the inmates...just a great day we were able to share with the men we were visiting.

On Sunday I enjoyed a party for a friend of mine who just graduated from college. I chased my daughter around Precita Park down the hill from our house. Friends passed around our little Chase so that Andrea and I could play kickball. A friend of mine at the party was wearing the sweetest Adidas jacket, exactly the kind I would buy if I were to buy a jacket. I commented about my admiration for the jacket. A few minutes later he put it around my shoulders and told me to try it on. He told me to keep it. It was a small thing in some ways, but it was just so odd; I don't really buy new clothes any more, and it was exactly the jacket I had in the back of my head that I would like to have if I could ever find it at a thrift store.

Today I sit on my computer realizing how much work there is to be done with ReIMAGINE and in this City, so many hurdles in so many different ways, but I am grateful for my weekend, reminding me that I am blessed, just like my old friend.

My Prayer

A Prayer I wrote for SEVEN...


We yearn to see your Promises fulfilled
To see You revealed in our midst

We yearn for peace
For reconciliation and simple trust
With the people we eat with
With the people we’ve left behind
With the people we walk by every day

Help us! Please help us!
We want to be your people
We want to see your Kingdom Come
We want to be a part of the solution
We want to be the change

We are strong, but we are frail
We can be wise, and we can be fools

You have promised your Spirit will guide us
In some real and supernatural way

Let us know that we are your beloved
In spite of what may tell us we are not

Let us become the people we were made to be
Let us inhabit the way of love
Use us to somehow bring goodness to this earth you created

Oh God help us leave the past behind
And move forward to You

Here we are
Help us
Lead us
Change us
Mold us
Make us

Something new
Something good
Something pure

Give us the strength to press on
Into Love

Oh God let us love
Oh God let us love
Oh God let us love

The margins

In my limited experience, the "General Hospital" is usually a place you don't want to go. It is certainly true of General Hospital here in San Francisco. It's on Potrero just a few blocks from our house, and it has this ominous feeling. Enormous brick buildings dominate the street for several minutes as you walk by. In the center of the brick buildings is a concrete building where I spent the day last Thursday. No, I didn't get hurt. I participated in a training for future chaplains at the hospital.

No one wants to go to General. You go there for two reasons: you were in a serious car accident or other traumatic incident that has put your body into a physical condition in which you need to be at a Trauma 1 facility, OR you need standard hospital care but can't go to another hospital (you have no insurance, are mentally ill, homeless, etc.) General takes anyone, which makes this particular hospital a gathering place for people truly on the margins. Some friends recently walked by and saw some mentally ill people in front of one of the brick buildings and thought, "That is where Jesus would be hanging out." Well, I'm certainly not Jesus but I am looking forward to spending more time at the hospital.

While sitting in hospital meeting rooms for hours upon hours and enjoying some truly disgusting and unhealthy hospital food, I dreamed about providing spiritual care for people who are truly on the margins of our society. At least in San Francisco, one does not need to be ordained as a minister to be a chaplain. For some of you reading this blog entry becoming a chaplain at a county or general hospital could be a real outlet for hopes of caring for people who are in lonely, poor and sick. I highly recommend at least thinking about it.

Soul Graffiti - Spread the word

Mark Scandrette, who you probably know I work with, has been working on this book for quite some time. It just released a couple days ago, and I'm excited to see how God uses this book to shake things up and inspire people to a life of apprenticeship to Jesus. Here's a review I wrote...

Mark Scandrette's Soul Graffiti reminds me of Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis. What sets Soul Graffiti apart is the practical dimension. Mark uses his unique talents as a storyteller to draw us into real life experiments in following Jesus in the details of life. As he illustrates this way of life he manages to be both raw and elegant at the same time. This book is full of ideas for pressing forward on the journey...walking in new ways, developing new habits, finding new rhythms. You will encounter an inspiring and dangerous faith full of risk taking and love.

6 years

Six years ago today I got married to a wonderful young lady. If I could go back, I would certainly do the ceremony differently, but I would also certainly get married to Andrea. She has amazed me the past couple years with her ability to grow as a person, as a follower of Jesus. Several months ago she moved into "The City" and soon after gave birth to our second child (with no pain medication, mind you). She has navigated an incredible amount of change with grace and courage. She is an amazing mother and wife. I am so proud of her. Mark says we'll have another 80 years together...sounds good to me.
Today Ryan and Holly and Dan and Bethany came over to allow Andrea and I to have an anniversary date. When they left at around 5 PM they said they were coming back to have dinner with us at 7. In reality, Lisa and Hailey Scandrette came over to watch the kids and let us have our second date in one day. We are so grateful to have the kind of friends who would care for us and actually ask to watch our kids for us on our anniversary...the kind of people who would suggest not letting Andrea know about the second part of our day and then enjoy fooling her with a story about dinner.
At moments like this when I reflect on my life I am reminded of God's goodness. I am a part of a beautiful community. When we try to explain to people we meet that we just moved here a few months ago but we have a large group of people we spend our lives with, hoping to care for each other and live a life of love together, we can receive strange looks. We are reminded that many people do not have community. We should be grateful. I have a wonderful wife who I truly love and respect. I should be grateful.
All this to say here's to Andrea and our friends. I am a blessed man.

Che

I just finished Guevara: Otherwise Known as Che while Andrea went to lunch with some friends and the kids took a nap. While much of Che's life is disturbing and I can in no way call him a hero or role model, I took away much from reading his biography. One thing I admire is his ability to think big, to dream big. After the revolution in Cuba was successful, most people would enjoy the aftermath and talk about the good old days of the revolution. Instead, Che went out to the Congo train the revolutionaries there to fight for liberation and was soundly defeated. He went to Prague in disguise and continued to be the mastermind behind a plot to bring revolution to all of Latin America. Cuba wasn't enough. He hoped for equality and liberation, for the end of tyranny and empire, in Argentina, Bolivia and everywhere else. He was killed in the jungles of Bolivia (with help from our CIA) with a handful of men who evaded thousands of soldiers and inspired revolutions for years to come. He was never scared of what would happen to him, and he didn't seem to care what people thought of him. He had a reputation for brutal honesty to all those around him.
Again, I'm disgusted by the violence, and I question if any good really did come out of all this, but I'm amazed at the determination and persistence in hoping to change the whole world for the better along with the steadfast belief that it was indeed possible. May we dream big and work for what we believe every day.