Life Is Not Fair

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



In this video, Mike Rowe talks about a principle we toss around with frequency — particularly when it is convenient (in realms like parenting or mentoring) — but rarely do we ever take the time to consider how profound and difficult the truth of the statement is.

Life is not fair.

Rowe uses the example of a job he had earlier in his life and a generous holiday bonus he received with great joy — until he found out a coworker had received more than him. Rowe goes on to simply observe and accept the very honest reality that life is full of these moments and circumstances. I really appreciated that he did not spend any time trying to explain the details of “what could be going on” or why we may or may not be “seeing it correctly.” Instead, he simply stated it and accepted it as a common life experience: life is not fair. Life will be full of moments just like this one. Rowe spent no time trying to blame the bosses or talk about what is wrong with the culture of his former workplace.

Nope, this is going to happen in life. A lot. We can either accept it as a common experience or fight it (to no avail, I might add) at every turn.

And he rightly pointed out the two things I think are important about remembering how to respond to life’s unfair moments: circumstance and control.

First there is circumstance. Life happens. Each day you wake up, and life hands you your pieces of the puzzle. All you have to work with are the pieces of the puzzle you are handed that day. They might be more than what you need, and they might be wrong in every way. You might not have the right puzzle pieces, or the picture on the lid may be inaccurate. You might not have enough to finish the job. Whatever it is, each day presents you with another piece to play in the puzzle of your life.

So when that piece is lousy, what do you do? When the circumstances are off, and life is unfair, how do you respond? Do you jump on Facebook and rant about how things aren’t turning out in your favor? Do you blame others for the plot you find yourself in?

You certainly could. Of course, it just doesn’t make a difference with those puzzle pieces. It doesn’t change the circumstances. And if it does anything, it changes you from the inside — and not for the better.

But then there is control. There are things we can control. We can control our choices, and we can control what we are going to do with the mess that lies in front of us. No matter who is to blame, no matter how hopeless, and no matter how unfair, there is only one direction we can head: forward. We pick up the pieces, and we do the best we can with what we have. We do not concern ourselves with how our table of puzzle pieces compares to our neighbor’s. We simply do the next right thing with what we have to work with.

And as I have added throughout this series, this does not mean we cannot address injustice and that there aren’t proper ways to address things in life that are wrong. This is about being crippled by the idea that you are entitled to a different situation just because somebody else experienced something different.

And I won’t be taking the time to write some cheap blog post about this or that group and their “participation trophies” or their generational entitlement; those are easy straw man arguments to make, and the thick irony is that those who make them miss the very principle we are espousing here.

It is your path. Be grateful for what is on your path. Be grateful for the opportunity to walk your path and to make something of the hand you have been dealt. And do not calculate the value of your path by comparing it to your neighbor’s.

And as for your neighbor’s path? Be grateful for that, too. Cheer for their success and celebrate their victories. For their path will have its own turns and disasters — and we all need cheerleaders. And the negative internal change we spoke of above? It can be reversed by celebrating the success of others. Gratitude begets more gratitude.

No matter what life throws us today, let’s crack our knuckles and be glad to tackle it the best we can.

Missing More than His Limbs

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



This video is loaded with good stuff — perspective, inspiration, personal challenge. Just from the perspective alone, the video is worth a watch. We often have opportunities to see things, hear stories, or meet people, and each helps us put things in perspective. That is one of the blatant and surface-level takeaways from this video, at least for me. Some people have it bad — really bad — and it helps me to remember how my circumstances stack up against those of others.

I live quite a life of opportunity, comfort, and privilege. This video reminds me of that, as I’m sure it does many others. In addition, it reminds me that some of those comforts and privileges have come from the sacrifice of others. I don’t take that lightly.

It’s important to note that the power of these stories lies in the stories themselves — and the people who get to tell them because of their own experience. One of the dangers of this video is that people watch it from a place of opportunity and privilege, feel the conviction and the inspiration, and then project it onto everyone else from their place of comfort. I’m not faulting Rowe for this, but the danger is there.

The power is in the story and the inspiration of seeing life lived out in a compelling way.

The danger is when we take that inspiration, turn it into a principle, and then expect everyone else to do the same. We cannot do that. Travis has his story: He is a human being with unbelievable complexity and nuance, personality, training, context, relationships, etc. Every human life is different, and every human story is valuable. The story is powerful when it is shared and used to start great internal and external conversations. The story is dangerous when it stops being a story and becomes an expectation projected onto everyone who struggles.

The projection is doubly dangerous when it is being projected by people who speak from places of comfort, power, influence, and privilege. We need to be aware of those things. I am purposely leaving out political buzzwords that will set off my audience, but I think we all need to be challenged (on all sides of our many debates and conversations) to think about where and how we project those things.

But I digress in a serious way, because after writing a whole post on the dangers of this video, I actually really enjoyed its conventional wisdom. The video ends with Rowe asking two questions.

“If [Travis] can get through the day without whining and complaining, why can’t I?”

This is the dynamite question we can all be challenged with. This is the question that inspires me and challenges me today.

His second question, appropriately qualified, is where it gets dangerous:

“With respect, why can’t anyone?”

May we be challenged to live with less whining and complaining. May we be resolute in our commitment to pursuing our day with a more positive attitude. But may we also ask that second question with much less assumption and more genuine intrigue. May our personal conviction lead to a better life (a “good eye” to call back to our previous discussion), and our intrigue lead us to more compassion and a less assumptive, less critical spirit.

And in this, may we find and help create a better world.

Cheerfulness Is a Choice

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



I’m not sure I would add much to this conversation at all. I will just say, “What Mike said!”

In all honesty, I feel like if I were to write a few paragraphs, I would be trying to manufacture some deep, profound thoughts pulled from the pool of post-conventional wisdom.

So I won’t! There it is. Cheerfulness is a choice. May we all be challenged by the application of this in our own lives.

Bringing the "Awesome" to Anything

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



In this conversation, Mike Rowe speaks against this common idea of “following your passion.” I think Mike might say this idea falls squarely in the realm of the less mature, pre-conventional wisdom. He suggests passion is not something you follow, but instead something you bring with you.

One of the things we are intentionally working on at Impact Campus Ministries is the art of sacred vocation. We have a fundamental belief that all work is holy and sacred. There is a sanctity to a vocation that is often overlooked. Why is vocation holy and sacred? Because vocation is, in its essence, about the proper ordering and stewarding of God’s creation. For centuries, Christian theology has unintentionally (I hope) pulled apart soil and spirit, giving the impression that the “Kingdom work” is done by clergy and missionaries, while the rest of the parishioners essentially make money to help the real work happen. They rub shoulders with the unsaved at their places of employment. They bring the money and “the lost” to the conversation and the holy folks do the spiritual work.

But this is not grounded in good theology. God is putting the whole world back together, bringing shalom to the physical chaos of creation. What this means is that the real work is done by those people who have their hands in the soil (literally or otherwise). It is the job of the clergy to help others see why their work matters. The non-clergy folks are actually engaging in the ends and not the means to that end. It’s all holy and spiritual work, but the clergy are engaging in the means to the Kingdom end — we usually have it backward!

This is so important in the conversation Rowe begins above, and yet one of the hardest ideas to grasp is where the passion lies. For many, the conversation about sacred vocation revolves around the idea that they must find the perfect vocation where their true passion lies.

But as Rowe points out, this is backward thinking.

Passion does not lie in the content of the vocation; passion describes the way we engage vocation in the first place. I think some of us go through life looking for the thing in our future that will give us passion when that passion is already within us and would transform the way we engage with our present.

One of the values at ICM is passion. We use this word to talk about the energy we bring to our pursuit of God. In this case, it is fitting that Rowe’s point is we bring passion to our work. In the same way passion describes the energy we bring to our pursuit of God, passion also describes the energy we bring to our vocation.

We have all met people who remind us of Les (from Mike’s video). They aren’t driven by their circumstances but bring a passion that affects the circumstances around them. It might be a grocer who always makes you feel better by the time you are checked out. I once heard a speaker talk about the parking lot attendant at a local establishment; living in a major urban city, he will drive past two other stores of the same franchise just to interact with this parking lot attendant. Why? Because they bring passion to their job, and their job becomes a sacred kind of “holy.”

Some of these people have jobs that would impress us — jobs of influence and intense specialization and high salaries.

And yet, some of these people work incredibly menial jobs and have a similar impact on the world around them.

It is true we have been created with certain gifts and are wired to be good at particular things. It is true some jobs align with those gifts better than others and that some situations are suffocating and stifling the life that burns within us. But we are not created for a particular career. We are created to be a particular kind of person. Our careers are simply the place where we can let those things grow.

No Such Thing as a Bad Job

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



This is a great conversation to follow our last post where we talked some about persevering in the face of rejection. In this video, Rowe shares more stories about his youth and what he learned about work. His point in this video is that every job is an opportunity to be shaped and to learn. This is good wisdom, rarely spoken of or promoted as worthwhile.

And yet, I know many of my students would struggle with exactly how to apply this truth. Do you just say yes to every opportunity that comes your way? Usually not. Especially as life begins to progress and take off, you will be given more and more opportunities; and in fact, saying no to things will be the bigger challenge. There are some chapters in life where you are not given multiple opportunities. You feel like you aren’t being given any shots, and you take the first thing that comes along. Yes, this happens as well. Life is full of complexity and just about every experience you can imagine. We aren’t talking about formulas, but general principles and conventional wisdom.

What do you do when you graduate with your degree, and you are looking for that career? I know many, many students who are paralyzed by the fear of screwing their life up at that moment. Young adults at this age are crippled by the choices, often believing if they make the wrong decision in these moments, they will drastically change the trajectory of their life.

This may be true. But that is what life is about, and you have no other options — except, of course, to do nothing.

We do the best with what we have; we make the best decisions we can. What I see most of my students doing is trying to remove all uncertainty from the equation before they move forward. This is foolishness — the opposite of wisdom. All of life is a calculation of high/low risk, high/low reward situations. You make the best choices you can with the best conventional wisdom you can muster. You make the decision, and you move forward.

As much as I might have tried to convince myself otherwise, I have never made a life decision with a complete absence of uncertainty. There is always the unknown. Sometimes I have made decisions where I felt 90% confident (and I’ve been wrong about some of those, by the way). I often make decisions about things that I feel 75% sure about. And sometimes life has thrown me situations where I needed to make a decision immediately, or in the near future, and I made decisions I felt only 50.1% sure about (in non-mathematical terms, an “I have no idea, but I’m just barely leaning this way” decision). This is a part of life and a part of moving forward. It is necessary.

We will make mistakes; we will judge things wrongly. We will make honest mistakes, and we will make mistakes where we certainly knew better and chose wrongly anyway. This is all a part of life.

And every chapter we walk into will provide us with an opportunity to learn and be shaped by our circumstances. The moment after we make these decisions, it is no longer about the decision, but about the way we respond to the circumstances. What we learn, what we take with us, the way we will be different because of this chapter. These are the things that matter.

So press on and make decisions. Know that you will probably have to do things you hate and go through periods where you don't have “the right fit” and struggle to find yourself. This is a normal part of the human experience in the modern world. Resist the existential crisis and push on to the good stuff that will go with you into the “next.”

Values Reflect Gratitude

Note: It may be helpful to read my introduction to this series in order to have some context and understand my disclaimers. You can find that post here.



In this first video Mike Rowe shares, he covers two big ideas that are directly connected in his mind. Those two ideas are gratitude and the trade skills gap. At first, when I watched the video, I couldn’t see how those two ideas were connected. But Rowe connected them with a couple of sentences. We’ll go over those ideas.


GRATITUDE

Rowe’s idea is built upon the premise that an “attitude of gratitude” changes your posture enough in life to affect everything you do and experience.

From a Jewish perspective, this point is spot on. This is practiced within the Jewish tradition by the commitment to say multiple blessings throughout the day, thanking God for all the ways He provides and how we encounter Him in our lives. There are blessings for waking each morning, blessings for food (both before and after you eat), blessings for bowel movements (not kidding!), blessings for Sabbath and rest — most orthodox Jews will tell you that a typical day contains anywhere between 70 and 100 blessings (or more). Just try that exercise; it’s hard to get to 40! A great book for further study here would be One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.

Beyond the practice of blessing, the rabbis teach that this impacts your perspective. Or is it that your perspective impacts your gratitude? Either way, it is a beautiful circular experiment. The rabbis have spoken at great length about the “good eye” (also known as ayin tovah in the Hebrew) and the “bad eye” (known as ayin ra’ah). To have a good eye is to live with a sense of optimism and hope; it is to see the good in everything and to assume the best in others. The bad eye is connected to a “scarcity mentality” that always assumes the worst and sees the potential danger, never opening up and sharing, never giving others the benefit of the doubt. Our gratitude impacts our eye, and our eye impacts how grateful we are throughout our experience.

Notice what Jesus says about this idea in Matthew 6:

“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!”

TRADE SKILLS GAP

Now, while I love to float in conceptual clouds and dwell in poetic possibilities, what I loved about Rowe’s work in these videos is how he connected it to very practical application for young adults — the people I work with every day. Rowe’s one statement that just clicked for me was toward the end of the video when he said the following:

“The skills gap isn’t a mystery; it’s a reflection of what we value, and what we value is a reflection of what we’re grateful for.”

This is a great statement of truth to dwell upon for a bit. Obviously, I’m captivated by how appropriate that statement is for so many things, things well outside the topic of skilled labor. The statement is just resounding with some of that conventional wisdom — I want to consider and ponder how far its truth goes.

But the practical application for young adults entering the world of education is also quite staggering. There will be more discussion on this later, but it is helpful for us to consider as families, parents, teachers, mentors, and churches how this truth comes out in the way we mentor our children.

Are we truly grateful for skilled labor?

Do we encourage vocational trades as great options for young leaders?

Do we actually discourage those decisions, telling them “college” is the only option for a bright future?

And while we’re here, has our lack of gratitude impacted the way we see other people groups who usually engage in these trades on our behalf — groups who are often different from many of us ethnically, economically, and culturally? And what’s up with my pronouns? Why do we talk as if there is an “our behalf” — as if the middle-class, white, suburban experience is the one that matters most?

Good food for thought. May we become more grateful for the lives we are given and aware of the ways our eye — tovah or ra’ah — affects our interactions with others and the futures of our children.

The Loss of Conventional Wisdom

It has been a while since I have written here. I was waiting for inspiration and the right time to “have something to say” rather than “having to say something.” Those things are radically different.

Well, my inspiration finally came from an unexpected place. This means, as usual, the upcoming series will require a disclaimer since we live in a world that likes to make assumptions rather than give the benefit of the doubt. (Is that another series waiting to be written? Maybe!)

At any rate, I bumped into a series of videos by Mike Rowe. It was promoting a scholarship program funded by an initiative he calls the SWEAT Pledge. The pledge is a written covenant of twelve commitments a person is willing to make, and they “buy” the pledge to hang on their wall with the donations going to a scholarship program. You can read about the program on your own; I am not writing to promote Rowe’s program. Whether you support or not, that’s none of my business.

What struck me was the content of the twelve videos that outlined the commitments contained in the pledge. They were full of what I would call “salt of the earth” conventional wisdom. They are things I desperately want to share and teach college students; they seemed to resonate with the soul of what I want to impart to young adults as a professional campus minister.

Having said that, I was taken aback by the source. Mike Rowe is the creator of Dirty Jobs, but he is also a relatively significant online personality — and not one I typically agree with, particularly when it is addressing political and social issues of the day. I rarely find his voice to be helpful. But in this case, I feel like his videos for the initiative nailed it. I have always been committed to celebrate truth wherever I find it — no matter the source — so I decided to eat some humble pie and share the information. I will be doing that in the posts to come.

But it also caused me to reflect for weeks on why these truths were so powerful for me. And I thought of two things: wisdom and my dad.

First, there is this idea of wisdom. One of my favorite teachers loves to talk about the ideas of pre-conventional, conventional, and post-conventional wisdom. Human beings all experience the idea of pre-conventional wisdom. This is immature wisdom, usually experienced during infancy and childhood. Pre-conventional wisdom would say, “I don’t want to go to bed; I want to stay up all night.” It is not really wisdom at all. It masquerades as wisdom but is really foolishness. Of course, as we grow, we move into an awareness of conventional wisdom, the idea that all human beings need sleep and have to get sleep every night. This is wisdom — standard, straightforward truth. But some will move into post-conventional wisdom. This is wisdom able to look back on conventional wisdom, break down some of the structure, question the assumptions, and move to transcendent wisdom. Perhaps this is the person who becomes even more aware of controlling their sleeping patterns and rather than simply “getting sleep” every night, they are very intentional about the sleep they do get and engage sleep in a whole other way.

While the easy way to see this truth is in our childhood, adulthood, and continued maturity, we often struggle with this development culturally, financially, socially, and spiritually — well into adulthood. I have watched plenty of full-grown adults indulge pre-conventional wisdom at will.

The nature of my job and my desire to be a lifelong learner means that I often find myself dwelling in the realm of academia and study. It is a world filled with wonderful thought and critical engagement of our culture. I eat deconstruction for breakfast. It is a world dripping in self-proclaimed post-conventional wisdom.

And in that space we start to sound (and act) like idiots.

We need to return to good ol’ conventional wisdom. We need to remember the things that are just true, built on common sense, and provide a foundation on which to grow toward healthy critical thinking. This is what I found so refreshing about Rowe’s take on this upcoming generation of young adults: his blue-collar, common-sense work ethic is full of wisdom I struggle to impart to my educated student base. I was drawn to that.

Second, this made me think of my dad. As I watched these videos, I kept thinking, over and over again, “My dad taught me this.” One of the biggest things to strike me as I’ve matured is how thankful I am for what I never realized my dad was giving me. This SWEAT Pledge, created by a communications genius, was common knowledge and daily living for my father. As I have wrestled with these truths in the last weeks, I have also realized how important the little things, the everyday occurrences, are in our family and our parenting. It’s the small, mundane opportunities that teach us things like faithfulness, attitude, and hard work.

I’m so thankful for what faithful parents, mentors, and instructors have taught me through the underestimated acts of character and integrity. It is for these reasons that I introduce this series.

And since we’re talking about wisdom, it might be right to remind ourselves of where wisdom comes from. No matter its form — pre-conventional, conventional, or post-conventional — all wisdom comes from one place. Ultimately, it is not our parents, nor our study and learning, nor Mike Rowe. It is from the very mouth of the LORD. May the words of Proverbs 2 guide our critical thinking along this journey.

My son, if you accept my words  

   and store up my commands within you,

turning your ear to wisdom 

    and applying your heart to understanding— 

indeed, if you call out for insight 

    and cry aloud for understanding, 

and if you look for it as for silver 

    and search for it as for hidden treasure, 

then you will understand the fear of the Lord 

    and find the knowledge of God. 

For the Lord gives wisdom; 

    from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. 

He holds success in store for the upright, 

    he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, 

for he guards the course of the just 

    and protects the way of his faithful ones. 

Then you will understand what is right and just 

    and fair—every good path. 

For wisdom will enter your heart, 

    and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. 

Discretion will protect you, 

    and understanding will guard you.

Top 12 of CiHD: #2

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (the first week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

We’re down to the last two posts in the Top 12 Blog Posts at Covered in His Dust series. Today, we’ll look at the second-most-viewed post in the history of my blog. Just what is the second-most-viewed post, you ask? Well, it’s an old post on the book of Obadiah. You can read the original post here.

Wait… what? Obadiah? You’ve got to be kidding.

I’m not kidding, but more on that in a moment.

In this series, as we look at each post, I want to ask three questions: why, what, and what else? Why do I think these posts got so many views; why were others drawn to them? What do I hope people found when they got here; what do I hope they heard? Finally, what else have I learned about this; what else would I say about these ideas?

WHY THIS POST?

I have absolutely no idea.

I couldn’t even begin to offer a respectable guess on why this was my second-most-read post. I can’t find any keywords that jump off the page. I can’t think of any topical connections. While the ancient city of Petra may have some draw to it, I’m not sure it would justify that kind of viewership.

What about the old Christian rock band? Yeah, I don’t think so, either (although you're welcome for that link).

Moving along…

WHAT DO I HOPE THEY FOUND?

I hope the reader found a helpful dialogue about a book that we spend very little time in. Writing about these prophets is fun because a person could count the number of sermons or lessons they’ve heard on Obadiah on one hand (if there were any to count at all). So to bring an unexcavated portion of the Text out and shine a flashlight on it is a great discipline to be a part of. I hope that experience was beneficial for my readers.

I also hope this conversation on a seldom-talked-about book of the Bible provided a new look at a conversation that we do have often — that is, how we treat other human beings, no matter who they are. These conversations or behavioral soundbites can become like white noise in our world of spiritual development. We hear the “be nice to others” lesson so much that it loses its potency. A book like Obadiah has the potential to jar us to attention because of the unusual setting where the conversation takes place. The context is like its own inductive teaching.

WHAT ELSE WOULD I SAY?

I think I would be tempted to wax eloquent on how this post is even more applicable now than it was when I first wrote it. The original was posted on June 4, 2014, in a much different world than we live in today. In the last four years, a few things have changed politically, ecclesiologically, and digitally — and mostly not for the better. We now seem to demonstrate even less ability to show the minimal amount decency and respect to others. Quite simply, we need to figure out how to disagree and still have a dialogue. We need to figure out to the find the humanity in our brother/sister and not demonize their perspective or their history. We need to figure out how to learn from each other and seek understanding like buried treasure.

And that means this book has a deeply serious message for us: God expects a certain amount of human decency from all people — how much more the people of God! It is not OK for human beings to treat other human beings in need with disdain or negligence. I have always felt like the words that fell from Cain’s lips in Genesis — “Am I my brother’s keeper?” — are the words that sit unspoken by the people of Edom in Obadiah. And God’s response is telling: “Yes, you are your brother’s keeper.” We all have to look out for our brothers, our half-brothers, our distant cousins, and even our enemies.

It doesn’t matter if the person you are talking to wears a MAGA hat or voted for Hillary. It doesn’t matter if they are pre-millennial, post-tribulation, Muslim, or Baptist. They are people; they are divine image bearers with thoughts and values that lead to convictions, just like you. There is a shared humanity being lost and I have great faith that our children are going to teach us how to reclaim it. My prayer is that their instruction will come in time, before the condemnation of Obadiah passes for too many of us Edomites.

A DAY IN THE LIFE: Sabbath & Personal Retreat Day

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the second week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

In this post for our DAY IN THE LIFE series, I take a look at something that should not have taken me ten months to write about, because it’s really where everything begins, not ends. It is not the byproduct or the result of the work I do elsewhere, it is the preparation for all of that other work. And yet, I waited until now to talk about it. Why? At least two reasons. First, the idea is horribly misunderstood by many and to start there would have been confusing for some. Second, because when I’m fully present in these moments, the last thing I’m thinking about is trying to shoot some video!

What am I talking about? I’m talking about SABBATH and PERSONAL RETREAT DAY (PRD).

SABBATH

For years, our family has made the Sabbath a non-negotiable priority. Now, before you read too much into that statement, you need to know that I’m not jumping across the table with a legalistic interpretation of Sabbath and what it is. Not at all. We have found a deeply compelling narrative in the practice of Sabbath and it’s become a fabric of our family life. Since this comes around once a week, no series on my daily life would be complete without it.

So what is it? Quite simply, it’s a day where we quit working and producing — no matter what the to-do list looks like. It’s a day of rest and of fun; it is a day that reminds us of what is most true about ourselves. It is not a day that comes AFTER a week of work; it is not a practice of recharging our batteries. No, this is a practice where we tell ourselves the truth about the world, about God, and about ourselves.

If you were to ask my children, “What do you do on the Sabbath?” they would tell you: “We rest. We play. No work. God loves us.” When I was trying to teach my children about Sabbath, I didn’t want to teach them a bunch of theology. I wanted them to understand something so simply that they could own it as a two-year-old. So we came up with that statement and it became a mantra for our family. First, we rest. Second, we play. One thing that isn’t allowed is work. And why do we do this? To remind ourselves that we are loved by God, not because of the work that we do, but simply because we are.

On these days, you’ll catch me sleeping in. You might see me enjoying the outdoors or spending time with the family. You might see me catching my favorite college team play ball or playing a video game. The one thing I will say is that I go through “Sabbath seasons.” Sometimes, I will need to spend time with my family and you’ll see me spending time with the family for a few months, but then that starts becoming a chore and it loses the ability to tell me the right story. So then I might go into a season where Sabbath is about my own self-care and doing things that I enjoy. But then that becomes selfish and starts to get in the way, so hunting season rolls around and I spend time in creation, close to the Creator.

Want to read more about Sabbath? There are incredible books out there by Heschel, Brueggemann, Bell, Winner, Sine… I wrote about it here and I talked about it here.

PERSONAL RETREAT DAY

So if you do Sabbath as a family, what is the PRD?

A PRD is a requirement for all staff at Impact Campus Ministries. Once a month, we are each supposed to take a paid work day and remove ourselves from the normal and usual workflow. It is a day for listening and changing our perspective. It’s different for everyone (for lots of different reasons), but the purpose is the same. We have come to talk about it in terms of a dance.

Imagine that ministry (or your job, whatever it might be) is a dance in a ballroom. You do a lot of things to make sure you are a good dancer. You study the art of dancing and you practice. You invest in your development as a dancer. But most of the time, you dance. You are engaged in the art of dancing. Tangibly, directly, immediately engaged.

But what do you think would happen if once a month, you stepped off the dance floor and joined God where He sits up in the balcony? Would the change of perspective be helpful? Not only would you enjoy rest and relief from stepping off the dance floor, but I imagine you would begin to see and notice things that you weren’t able to see when you were fully engrossed in the work of dancing. I would imagine you might be able to hear God’s voice a little more clearly when you are sitting next to Him in the balcony, versus being fully engaged in the work itself.

The balcony is certainly not where we are called to live; it is not the work we are called to. But it is important to the work that we are called to.

I made this short video to talk a little about my experiences on my own PRDs.

PULL UP A CHAIR: Stories on Milieu

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the fourth week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

Eric Wright is the Team Leader for our ICM team on the Palouse. They minister to students at the University of Idaho, Washington State University, and Lewis-Clark State College. Eric and Mitzi were on the Palouse more than a decade ago when Real Life on the Palouse came to town to plant their church. Eric built an incredibly productive relationship with RLOTP and has enjoyed the benefits of the intentional relationships that come from that partnership. I asked him if he's be willing to share his perspective on our pursuit of MILIEU.

One of my favorite aspects of campus ministry revolves around the opportunities to rub shoulders with those who believe differently than I do. I have been blessed with mentors who have challenged me to read and listen to great thinkers and writers who reside on the opposite side of positions I hold. Civility and the ability to listen to understand the thoughts and opinions of others is key in our day and age to move the kingdom forward. This anomaly of bipartisanship only occurs when we choose to place ourselves in the nexus of diversity and ideas in our society. This nexus is the university campus in America.

While the word milieu may sound uncomfortable to the American ear, the concept of a physical or social setting in which something occurs or develops is not an altogether new concept for us. The term environment is one we may be more familiar with in our society. The environment in which we grow up helps determine our personality and works to direct our future in positive and negative ways. The milieu of the university campus works to direct the future of our civilization in a similar fashion.

One of my best opportunities to engage in intentional relationships with others on the university campus involves my connection with other student organizations at the University of Idaho. For five years, I had an office space with twenty other student organizations in the student organization center. This space put me in daily communion with students from diverse milieus. For two years, my desk faced the desk of the LGBTQ campus student organization.

This was my first occasion to engage with someone from this community. Being a student myself at the University of Idaho at the time, I had many openings for conversation. I developed a relationship with the organization’s student leaders by choosing to listen to understand and not by trying to win an argument. One of the key moments in my journey in understanding my place in God’s story involved the realization that these students I sat across from are just as much a part of God’s story as I am. God’s story of redemption and resurrection does not belong to my belief community or me but to all creation.

Those students I sat across from were as passionate about the restoration of community and our planet as I was. This actualization of the expansiveness of the breadth and width of those included in God’s story brought me to an understanding of milieu. One encounter with the student leader centered on my asking if there was anything for which I could pray about for them. The student questioned my motive by asking if I was praying against her lifestyle and for her world to be turned upside down.

I sensed the weight of my response and I took a moment to answer. I shared that my prayer for her was that God would bless her life and would show Himself and His love to her and that she may have a clear understanding of His love for her. Clearly this student was not expecting that response and it opened up even more conversations about the kingdom of God and her place in it. Moving the kingdom of God and conversations such as these forward hinges on our choice to engage others in the story.

This moment would not have been possible had it not been for those in my story who have encouraged me to listen to understand and lead with love. As a campus minister, one of my duties is to come alongside students and challenge them to listen to understand and lead with love. These actions give God room to move in the hearts of those with whom we intentionally step into relationships. It is God’s work to change hearts and move His kingdom forward; ours is to step out of our comfort zones and into relationship.

PULL UP A CHAIR: Stories on Mode

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the fourth week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

Zack Dean is the team leader for Impact Campus Ministries at our location at SUNY Albany. Being an alumni of that university and our campus ministry there has always given Zack a unique perspective. None of this should take away from the fact that Zack is such a unique person! Zack has been on two BEMA Trips and was able to take his wife Melanie on the most recent trip in 2016. I thought it would be insightful to ask Zack about his perspective of "MODE" as it pertains to his experiences in Israel and Turkey.

In July of 2014, a conflict between Israel and the Gaza Strip began. Within a week, I and 25 others landed in Tel Aviv and traveled south to the Negev Desert to begin the first Bema trip to Israel and Turkey. After 24 hours of air conditioned train, plane, and automobile travel, we were dropped off in the desert wilderness. I used to live in the Mohave Desert in California. I was used to jackrabbits, Joshua trees, cactus, and tumbleweeds. You know, desert. It’s a dry heat, so it isn’t as bad.

This wasn’t southern California.

There aren’t jackrabbits or Joshua trees or cactuses (cacti?). There is nothing. No plants. No animals. No shade. No water. There aren’t tumbleweeds, because there aren’t plants that grow then die and roll around.

The heat was terrific. It was the type of heat that is impressive when you first feel it; we stepped out of the bus at 9am and said wow. The sun is beating down and the rock is radiating heat up. There is no escape. Again, it is 9am. Wow.

I think Marty wanted to take it easy on us the first day. We walked the desert with what will later be seen as minimal hill climbing. As we walked this scorched earth, our shoes began to fall apart. Literally. Our soles were peeling away. Some people pulled out tape to try to coble their shoes back together, while other people started vomiting. People were coming close to passing out... from walking flat terrain.

The condition of our group was unexpected. Here we are, people who have trained to hike 7-12 miles a day while hiking thousands of feet of elevation change each day, prepared for an intense trip.

We were ready.

Day 1: We were falling apart walking on flat ground.

Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the wildernessthese forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was inyour heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbledyou, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, whichneither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does notlive on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth ofthe LORD. Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell duringthese forty years. 

Deuteronomy 8:2-4 

Today as we look at Mode from the Mx3, we look at how we open the story of God for students. Mode is defined as engaging the mind, heart, and body.

As I read this passage from Deuteronomy, I see that God takes care of His people. Intellectually, I know that our God is good and takes care of His people. That has been taught to me. It is clear from scripture. This has engaged my mind.

I used to live in the desert, so I can relate to the toughness of desert living. Our air conditioned home was on the edge of town. When we drove to the store for food, it was hot as I walked between the air-conditioned grocery store and the air- conditioned car (at home we parked in the attached garage because we aren’t animals and didn’t deal with the heat if we didn’t have to). My heart can be engaged because I can relate to the situation more than just intellectually. I have lived in similar situations as the Israelites walking the desert for 40 years...

The Bema Trip is an experience of engaging the body. I knew God took care of His people. I knew what it was like to be in the desert. Going to the Negev Desert and learning from experience why people accept lying down and dying changes the whole idea of what that passage is talking about. On day one, our shoes had fallen apart. God took care of their clothes for 40 years and mine only lasted a few hours? There is no food of any kind, or water or anything. God provided food on these hot rocks? It is hot enough to bake bread, so that makes sense.

If I were to just walk this desert, my shoes would fall apart. I would be hot and tired. I would be feeling all the same things. My body would be engaged, but that’s it. Only one aspect of mode isn’t the best way to teach or learn. Without engaging the mind and heart, without knowing the story of how God watches over His people who would normally struggle to survive, the lesson is missed.

If I know the story of God in my mind, if I can engage my heart and emotion to empathize with the people of the text, and if I engage my body by trying to step into their world, I will learn in a way that I’ll remember for years to come.

I know this to be true, because the mind, heart, and body engagement of the Bema trip has been life changing. Four years later, I still talk about it all the time. It still influences how I understand the narrative of scripture. I have spoken about it so much that two years after the inaugural Bema Trip, I brought four people with me as I went on the trip again in 2016. This year, 2018, someone who I brought is sending a friend of his on the Bema trip. Life change is infectious.

We might not all lead trips to Israel, but we can all find ways to engage the mind, heart, and body. When we teach and learn about the biblical prerogative to care for the alien, orphan, and widow, we can remember a time when we were seen as an outsider. We can engage the body to serve these people who are marginalized in a multitude of ways in our hometowns.

The mode in how we teach is greatly important. Each mode by itself can be good, yet incomplete. The best and most difficult mode is to combine all three, but it is also the greatest experience for both the teacher and the student.

PULL UP A CHAIR: Stories on Message

For a summary of what I’m hoping to accomplish in this blog series (in the fourth week of every month of 2018), I recommend reviewing my explanation here.

Describing my relationship with Brent Billings proves to be quite a challenge. I knew Brent originally as a colleague to work alongside of at Real Life on the Palouse years ago. Brent then became a student of BEMA and has gone through the study more than anyone I know. Brent has been a facilitator for me on my trips to Israel and Turkey; he has been an unbelievable asset in the production of the BEMA podcast and my recent season of ministry. More than any of that, however, Brent and his family have become great friends of ours. I could think of nobody that has more interaction with the idea of "Message" than Brent Billings.

To say that Marty and the work of Impact Campus Ministries has changed my life would probably be putting it lightly. The narrative view of the Bible as a whole body of work is what I have been looking for my whole life, but I had no idea I was looking for it.

Reflecting on the idea, I see how I was drawn to it. I knew the stories of the Bible pretty well, and the parts that weren’t stories (the prophets, perhaps, or Leviticus) were basically ignored. Of course I knew the key passages, such as Isaiah 53, but I didn’t have an understanding of what Isaiah was doing with his prophecy. (And on top of that, I had a fundamental misunderstanding of how prophecy worked.)

I knew Abraham was a patriarch, but I didn’t know why God chose to partner with him. I didn’t even view their relationship as a partnership, and I certainly never considered the idea that God would want to partner with me in the same way. I had heard of the concept of “children of Abraham” that Paul speaks of in Acts and Galatians, but the implications of that idea were far outside my realm of understanding.

If I’m being honest, I didn’t even consider the “Old Testament” something important. It was more like a collection of good stories and some historical documentation thrown in for good measure. I spent the vast majority of my time in the New Testament, happily taking what it said at face value. I simply didn’t know how Tanakh (the Jewish name for the Old Testament) fit into the story, or my story. Am I even a part of this story?

Today, I don’t spend time fretting about the inconsistencies between the creation stories of Genesis 1 and Genesis 2–3. I see them in the proper context of the entire narrative and reap dividends of wisdom from both accounts. Today, I don’t shudder when I think about the book of Leviticus. I see what the book is doing and I understand how it develops the relationship between God and His people (including me). Today, my eyes don’t glaze over when I open the Text to a prophet. I know where this prophet sits in history, I know who his audience is, and I know the image he uses to speak to them.

Even on the very day I write this, as I am going through the book of Matthew, I see the references Jesus makes to the Words spoken before. Jesus didn’t come to invalidate the Old Testament, but to make it come alive. We see Jesus live out the Text if we can only open our ears to hear it.

The pursuit of Message at ICM has opened my ears to hear things I never knew I was missing. The Bible truly is a single story about God’s work in the world—a story that continues to this day. I have so much more to explore, and there is much I do not yet understand, but I am no longer afraid of the unknown. My faith is not dependent on a perfect grasp of the meaning of every passage. Even though the journey ahead is long, I’m thrilled to be heading in the right direction.