The Life of a Truth Seeker

Do Christians in heaven dislike being given the title “Saint”?

2011-08-11T17:57:00.000-04:00

Recently a friend of mine, a solid Christian of whom I have a deep respect for his love of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teachings found in Scripture, brought up the objection that perhaps it is wrong for the Catholic Church to give those past Christians who have lived heroically holy lives, the title “Saint.” His reasoning was that if they were truly humble, they would not want to be given this title. By calling them saints we are actually offending them. I'm guessing that he had in mind such verses as when Jesus said to call no man father, rabbi, or teacher (Mt. 23:8,9), which could at first glance be taken as Jesus condemning the practice of using titles to honor people. Is it wrong for the Catholic Church to declare a dead Christian to be a Saint? Are these Christians who have been given this title offended?

To begin, we need to take a closer look at Jesus teaching on titles. When this passage is read in context it is clear that he is not giving a blanket condemnation of titles, but instead using hyperbole in order to condemn the pride of the pharisees who liked to exalt themselves in their titles. We know this for two reasons. First, because common sense tells us that when a little girl calls her dad “Father” or when she goes to school and calls her instructor “Teacher” she is not violating Jesus teaching. Second, because Paul used titles continually (1 Tim. 2:7; 2 Tim 2:11; 1 Cor. 12:28; Eph 4:11). So, there is nothing wrong with titles, unless one is using them to exalt himself.

Next, is wrong to give the title of “Saint” to past Christians who have lived heroically virtuous lives? In other words is it wrong to honor others with titles such as the Catholic Church does? From the above discussion we know that titles are not wrong unless they are used for prideful and selfish aggrandizement. So, the real question is, is it wrong to honor others whether that be with titles or in other ways? An easy way to answer this is by looking at God's command to children: “Honor your parents.” Have you ever heard a child call his mother or father by first name and this made you wince? Why? Because our parents deserve to be honored. We honor them with titles: Mother, Father, Grandfather, Grandmother. However this is true not only with parents, but also with religious leaders. God told Moses: “Make sacred garments for your brother Aaron [the high priest], to give him dignity and honor” (Ex. 28:2). “Let the elders [priests] who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching” (1 Tim. 5:17). Christ promised special blessings to those who honor religious figures: “He who receives a prophet because he is a prophet shall receive a prophet’s reward, and he who receives a righteous man [saint] because he is a righteous man shall receive a righteous man’s reward” (Matt. 10:41). As far as I can tell, there is nothing in Scripture that teaches that it is wrong to honor a person by calling him a saint.

Man Up: Be the Dad God has Called You to Be

2011-06-17T15:53:00.001-04:00

A reflection for Father's Day by Father Philip Mayer

Men, do you know the immense influence that you have simply because you are a man? I have an uncle who doesn't seem like much: He's mean. He criticizes his wife and grown kids. He's selfish. And yet he is influential. It's almost mystifying. Recently he decided to retire and move to the hill country of Tennessee. Amazingly, his kids and their wives and children are in the process getting things arranged so that they too can move with him. This is the second time that they will follow him across the country. It is amazing. Why does he have this influence? Why do they follow him? Because of his amazing personality? No. Because he has money. No, he's only just making it by himself. Because Tennessee is a great place to be? No, there are no jobs in the area that he wants them to move to. And yet they are following him. He has this influence because he is the father of his family.

You as a man have been given an incredible privilege. As a man and as a father you symbolize God, who chose to go by this same title, Father. As a father you have tremendous influence on your family, whether for good or bad. A study recently conducted in Switzerland (1994) showed that if a man attends church regularly, even though his wife does not, his kids will go on to become church attenders eighty percent of the time. However, if the scenario is reversed, and the mother is a regular church attender but the father is not, the number is cut in half and of those who do attend, most will be irregular attenders. Only two percent will attend regularly. Men, you have an immense amount of influence given to you by God. This has been show time and time again, by study after study after study on the affect of the male influence on the family. As a father, you reflect God in a special way and as a father God has given you tremendous power over the future of your children. He has placed their souls into your hands and even allowed you to use his name: Father. This is an immense responsibility, a sacred trust that we must use well.

Do you want your kids to have the values taught by the Church? Do you want them to stand by their families? Do you want them to be willing to suffer in order to do what is right? Do you want them to show courage in the face of temptation? Do you want them to show persistence, consistency and trustworthiness? These are all values taught in the church, exemplified to the ultimate degree by Jesus Christ, the one who called you to man up give your all in the same way that he did. You as a man must exemplify what it means to live a godly lifestyle. You must be the one to show your dedication to your kids and your family. You are the one that they look to for meaning. You are the one they look to when first learning about God. To whom much has been given, much will be required. God will call you to account. He will ask you what you did not only with your own soul, but with those he placed in your charge. If you sin against him by refusing the responsibility of this charge, he will refuse you for eternity.

Yet there is hope. There is forgiveness. That is what Father's Day is all about. It is a day when we are reminded who God has called you to be: a father who reflects him and who he is, to your family. That is why he gave you this influence. There is yet time to get things right. There's time to make up for past mistakes. To find your hope in him, to learn what it means to be a father from him and to live this out for those he has given you responsibility. This is your opportunity to be the father that God has called you to be. This is what your family wants from you. This is what I as your priest, want for you. This is what God requires from you and he will be with you, giving you the courage and the strength and endurance to be the father that he has created you to be.

The Sacrament of Confession

2010-10-29T16:38:00.000-04:00

Finding true healing, God's way.

The first time I went to confession with a priest I was terrified, almost shaking in fear. I knew that I was really confessing to Jesus and that the priest was only his representative, but the priest was still a real person and I could hardly imagine confessing these deep dark things about myself out loud to him. Yet, I went for it—feeling like a man jumping over a cliff. I’m glad I did. When I had finished he absolved me of my sins and I felt incredible—as though I could leap small buildings in a single bound. The experience changed my life. I now go to confession once a month and it has probably been the most healing practice that I have every participated in.

If you are anything like me, the church that you grew up in did not offer the Sacrament of Confession, and you’re probably wondering, where is that in the Bible? Jesus gave his power to forgive sins to the leaders of the church by saying to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained” (Jn 20:22-23). Yet, how could they know which sins to forgive or not to forgive unless the sins were confessed? This is no different than going to a doctor who must see your wound in order to heal you. Regular confession and forgiveness of sins has been a normal part of church life since the beginning. James wrote that if you are sick, either physically or spiritually, you should go to the priest (elder) and confess your sins so that you may be healed (5:14-16).

How often should you go to confession? In the year 1215 all of the leaders of the church gathered together to discuss this and other issues and decreed that at a minimum the faithful should go to confession with the local parish priest or with permission, another priest, no less than once a year, though confession is recommended once a month or more.

The Sacrament of confession is an incredible opportunity, a place where you can freely confess all of your sins without fear since the priest is required by canon law to hold fast to the seal of the confessional. He can share your sins with no one. Sacramental confession is a completely safe—a place to find healing and wholeness. There is nothing you can share that will surprise the priest. He will love you no matter what.

So, feel free to grab me on Sunday mornings between 8 and 8:30 a.m. to hear your confession, or feel free to make an appointment for another time. See you then.

Yours,
Father Philip

P.S. Learn more about confession by going to our website and listening to a talk I recently gave here.

A Simple Examination of Conscience in Preparation for Confession

2010-10-29T16:37:00.001-04:00

When was my last good confession? Did I receive Communion or other sacraments while in the state of mortal sin? Did I intentionally fail to confess some mortal sin in my previous confession?

Did I willfully and seriously doubt my faith, or put myself in danger of losing it by reading literature hostile to Christian teaching or by getting involved with non-Christian sects? Did I engage in superstitious activities, such as palm-reading, and fortune-telling?

Did I take the name of God in vain? Did I curse or take a false oath? Did I use bad language?

Did I miss church on Sunday or a holy day of obligation through my own fault, without any serious reason? Did I fast and abstain on the prescribed days?

Did I disobey my parents or lawful superiors in important matters?

Was I selfish in how I treated others, especially my spouse, my brothers and sisters, my relatives, or my friends? Did I hatefully quarrel with anyone or desire revenge? Did I refuse to forgive? Did I cause physical injury or death? Did I get drunk? Did I take illicit drugs? Did I consent to advise someone about, or actively take part in an abortion?

Did I willfully look at indecent pictures or watch immoral movies? Did I read immoral books or magazines? Did I engage in impure jokes or conversations? Did I willfully entertain impure thoughts or feelings? Did I commit impure acts, alone or with others?

Did I steal or damage another’s property? How much was it worth? Have I made reparation for the damages done? Have I been honest in my business relations?

Did I tell lies? Did I sin by slander? By detraction—telling unknown grave faults of others without necessity? Did I judge others rashly in serious matters? Have I tried to make restitution for any damage of reputation that I have caused

If you remember other serious sins beside those indicated here, include them also in your confession

St. Laurence

2010-08-19T15:40:00.002-04:00

In the persecutions under Valerian in 258, numerous priests and deacons were put to death, while Christians belonging to the nobility or the Roman Senate were deprived of their goods and exiled. Saint Lawrence was one of seven deacons who were in charge of giving help to the poor and the needy. Under the Valerian persecution, Pope St. Sixtus was one of the first condemned to death and martyred on Aug 6th. As he was led to execution, Lawrence followed him weeping, "Father, where are you going without your deacon?" he said. "I am not leaving you, my son," answered the Pope. "in three days you will follow me." Full of joy, Lawrence gave to the poor the rest of the money he had on hand and even sold expensive vessels to have more to give away.

The Prefect of Rome, a greedy pagan, thought the Church had a great fortune hidden away. St. Lawrence was brought before Cornelius Secularis, prefect of Rome under the Emperor Valerian, who, according to Dom Prosper Guéranger in his Liturgical Year, "aimed at ruining the Christians by prohibiting their assemblies, putting their chief men to death, and confiscating their property." It was for this reason that St. Lawrence, the archdeacon for Pope St. Sixtus II, was summoned to the tribunal of Cornelius, who sought the riches of the Church of Rome. It was the duty of the archdeacon to care for these treasures. St. Lawrence asked for a short delay, so he could gather these riches for the prefect. When the archdeacon returned three days later, instead of bringing vessels of gold and silver, he brought the poor of the city, saying, "Behold, these choice pearls, these sparkling gems that adorn the temple, these sacred virgins, I mean, and these widows who refuse second marriage.... Behold then, all our riches." In response to his boldness, Cornelius was enraged and ordered the scourging and torture of St. Lawrence upon the rack. The following is also taken from Dom Guéranger's entry for the feast of St. Lawrence in Volume XIII of his Liturgical Year.)

"...Laurence was taken down from the rack about midday. In his prison, however, he took no rest, but wounded and bleeding as he was, he baptized the converts won to Christ by the sight of his courageous suffering. He confirmed their faith, and fired their souls with a martyr's intrepidity. When the evening hour summoned Rome to its pleasures, the prefect recalled the executioners to their work, for a few hours' rest had sufficiently restored their energy to enable them to satisfy his cruelty."

"Surrounded by this ill-favoured company, the prefect thus addressed the valiant deacon: 'Sacrifice to the gods, or else the whole night long shall be witness of your torments.' 'My night has no darkness,' answered Laurence, 'and all things are full of light to me.' They struck him on the mouth with stone, but he smiled and said, 'I give Thee thanks, O Christ.'"

"Then an iron bed or gridiron with three bars was brought in and the saint was stripped of his garments and extended upon it while burning coals were placed beneath it. As they were holding him down with iron fork, Laurence said 'I offer myself as a sacrifice to God for an odour of sweetness.' The executioners continually stirred up the fire and brought fresh coals, while they still held him down with their forks. Then the saint said: 'Learn, unhappy man, how great is the power of my God; for your burning coals give me refreshment, but they will be your eternal punishment. I call Thee, O Lord, to witness: when I was accused, I did not deny Thee; when I was questioned, I confessed Thee, O Christ; on the red-hot coals I gave Thee thanks.' And with his countenance radiant with heavenly beauty, he continued: 'Yea, I give Thee thanks, O Lord Jesus Christ, for that Thou hast deigned to strengthen me.' He then raised his eyes to his judge, and said: 'See, this side is well roasted; turn me on the other and eat.' Then, continuing his canticle of praise to God [he said]: 'I give Thee thanks, O Lord, that I have merited to enter into Thy dwelling place.'"

"As he was on the point of death, he remembered the Church. The thought of the eternal Rome gave him fresh strength, and he breathed forth this ecstatic prayer: 'O Christ, only God, O Splendour, O Power of the Father, O Maker of heaven and earth and builder of this city's walls! Thou has placed Rome's scepter high over all; Thou hast willed to subject the world to it, in order to unite under one law the nations which differ in manners, customs, language, genius, and sacrifice. Behold the whole human race has submitted to its empire, and all discord and dissensions disappear in its unity. Remember thy purpose: Thou didst will to bind the immense universe together into one Christian Kingdom. O Christ, for the sake of Thy Romans, make this city Christian; for to it Thou gavest the charge of leading all the rest to sacred unity. All its members in every place are united - a very type of Thy Kingdom; the conquered universe has bowed before it. Oh! may its royal head bowed in turn! Send Thy Gabriel and bid him heal the blindness of the sons of Iulus, that they may know the true God. I see a prince who is to come - an Emperor who is a servant of God. He will not suffer Rome to remain a slave; he will close the temples and fasten them with bolts forever.'"

"Thus he prayed, and with these last words, he breathed forth his soul. Some noble Romans who had been conquered to Christ by the martyr's admirable boldness, removed his body: the love of the most high God had suddenly filled their hearts and dispelled their former errors. From that day, the worship of the infamous gods grew cold; few people went now to the temples, but hastened to the altars of Christ. Thus Laurence, going unarmed to the battle, had wounded the enemy with his own sword."

St Lawrence was burning with so much love of God that he almost did not feel the flames. In fact, God gave him so much strength and joy that he even joked. "Turn me over," he said to the judge. "I'm done on this side!" And just before he died, he said, "It's cooked enough now." Then he prayed that the city of Rome might be converted to Jesus and that the Catholic Faith might spread all over the world. After that, he went to receive the martyr's reward. Saint Lawrence's feast day is August 10th.

(also based from http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=366 based on narrations by St Ambrose and Prudentius, Butler's Lives of the Saints)
On this day, the reliquary containing his burnt head is displayed in the Vatican for veneration.

According to lore, among the treasure of the Roman church entrusted to Lawrence for safe-keeping was the Holy Chalice, the cup from which Jesus and the Apostles drank at the Last Supper. Lawrence was able to spirit this away to Huesca, in present day Aragon, with a letter and a supposed inventory, where it lay hidden and unregarded for centuries. When Augustine connects Lawrence with a chalice, it is the chalice of the Mass: "For in that Church, you see, as you have regularly been told, he performed the office of deacon; it was there that he administered the sacred chalice of Christ's blood".

According to Christian history the Holy Grail is a relic that was sent by St. Lawrence to his parents in northern Aragon. He entrusted this sacred chalice to a friend whom he knew would travel back to Huesca, remaining in the monastery of Saint John of Pena, core of spiritual strength for the emerging kingdom of Aragon. While the Holy Chalice's exact journey through the centuries is disputed, it is generally accepted by Catholics that the Chalice was sent by his family to this monastery for preservation and veneration. Historical records indicate that this chalice has been venerated and preserved by a number of monks and monasteries through the ages. Today the Holy Grail is venerated in a special chapel in the Catholic Cathedral of Valencia, Spain.

O Almighty God,
Who didst give unto Blessed Lawrence power
to be more than conqueror in his fiery torment;
grant unto us, we beseech thee,
the power to quench the flames of our sinful lusts.
Through Jesus Christ, etc.
Amen

St Lawrence, we pray together with you to our Lord Jesus Christ that we may learn to Love with the greatest of Love which is to Sacrifice all that one has and is, as Christ on the Cross, our Redeemer and Supreme Example.

"Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." Jn 15:13

With Faith like this who needs anything else. Let us pray for Faith, the martyrs have died not for a heavenly thought and probability, but for a surreal, incomprehensible and supernatural reality. Heaven is a real eternal bliss, and so is the opposite, therefore walk the narrow path even if they want to destroy you, fearing not and remembering that no man and no demon can harm the soul if it has already been given away to God completely.

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=455448&id=100000054596391&ref=fbx_album

The Growth and Relocation of St. Peter's

2009-11-27T10:50:00.000-05:00

Debt

2009-10-07T12:29:00.000-04:00

This Sunday I am preaching on Breaking the Chains of debt and in my research I found some very interesting information on the history of the Church's resolute stand against usury (that is loaning money for interest). Check out this excellent paper: A Short Review of the Historical Critique of Usury

A good civilization is that in which the society is structured in such a way that makes it easy for the citizens to be good. A bad civilization is structured in such a way that it makes it easy for the citizens to be bad. Are we a good society or a bad society?

A Need for the Spirit

2009-09-28T11:59:00.002-04:00

This morning I was brought to tears while reading the passage below from Fundamentals of the Faith: Essays in Christian Apologetics by Peter Kreeft.

When Paul visits the church in Ephesus (Acts 19), he notices something missing -- I think he would notice exactly the same thing in most of our churches and preach the same sermon -- and he asks them, "Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?" (Acts 19:2). Why would he ask that unless he saw a power shortage? Why did twelve fishermen convert the world, and why are half a billion Christians unable to repeat the feat? The Spirit makes the difference ...

We have received the Spirit by faith and baptism. "Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him" (Rom 8:9). But we need the release, the empowering, the anointing of the Spirit. Such empowerment is probably what the New Testament means by baptism in (or of or with) the Holy Spirit. It is supposed to happen at confirmation. Apparently, it usually does not. Millions of confirmed Catholics receive it afterward, usually in charismatic prayer meetings or seminars. The charismatic movement is obviously God's answer to Pope John XXIII's prayer for a new Pentecost. Popes Paul VI and John Paul II both blessed it but said that it will fulfill its purpose only when, like the early liturgical movement, it ceases to have a separate identity of its own and is absorbed into the whole Church. In other words, every Catholic should be a charismatic, baptized in the Spirit, empowered like the apostles.

The difference this baptism in the Spirit makes is not primarily in any particular charismatic gift, such as tongues. Paul clearly says not to get hung up on tongues (1 Cor 12-14). The difference is far greater: like the difference between a picture and a live person, between dead orthodoxy and living truth, between words and power. If we are not certain that Jesus Christ is present in us, working, acting, making a difference, rather than just being a teacher, an example, a lovely but remote historical figure, then we need Pentecost. And when that happens, the world will be won again.

Hanging with Elvis

2009-07-25T16:13:00.001-04:00

Had a great time this past Thursday going to see Daniel Cardona perform as Elvis at a local Italian restaurant named Amore's. Daniel packed the place out. He's an excellent singer and worked the crowd very well. It was a lot of fun.

I met Daniel at a young adult barbecue that we hosted a few months ago and we have become good friends. He's a dedicated member at St. Peter's. I am blessed that God brought him to us.

Unloading Wood

2009-07-20T17:35:00.002-04:00

Good times at camp. Here I am along with my dad and other family members unloading our campfire wood.

The Mayer Family

2009-07-20T17:21:00.003-04:00

Here is the most up-to-date picture of my family. Everyone is here except one of my sister's and her husband: parents and six of my siblings and their spouses and children.

Camping with the Family

2009-07-15T11:55:00.003-04:00

Here are all of the people who Melissa and I went camping with this past week. Camping for a week with forty-something members of your family is great fun.

Singing at the Ball Game

2009-07-13T16:13:00.003-04:00

Check out the St. Peter's choir yesterday, singing for the Frisco Rough Riders, a double-a affiliate of the Texas Rangers. This was a special honor for me--being allowed to jump in at the last minute to lead the tenor part. We had a lot of fun.

The sound quality is not the best--but it will give you an idea of the talent at St. Peter's.

Encourage the Preacher

2009-06-22T11:12:00.001-04:00

Melissa and I had ice-cream last night at Cold Stone Creamery with another young adult who recently began attending St. Peter's. She and her husband hadn't been going to any church for quite a while, but through a chance meeting I had with them at a party, God began to draw the two of them back to himself through the body of Christ at St. Peter's. It has been fun having them and getting to know them, as well as seeing them come alive to the faith.

During our conversation over ice-cream, she began to tell Melissa and me how my sermons have been helping to her to understand and dig into the Bible. She said that she is seeing the Scriptures in a new way. This was a nice encouragement.

May God continue to move and work in his Church.

My Experience with Financial Peace University

2009-06-15T18:34:00.001-04:00

Alan Ladd led us in beginning the thirteen week Financial Peace University this past Tuesday. There are eighteen of us who are taking the course and Dave Ramsey, who teaches the class, is amazing! I couldn't stop laughing. And not only funny, but extremely helpful—I have discovered this class to be foundational in the way that I use and view money and it will forever impact my life—putting Melissa and me on solid financial footing. I wish that I would have taken this class earlier—as does everyone else who came to the first session. I strongly encourage everyone in our church to look into this opportunity the next time we host this program.

Cursillo – A Spiritual Retreat

2009-06-09T18:24:00.003-04:00

Can you imagine it—an entire weekend away, just you and God (and a few other people too—like 35 or so :-)? That’s what I was able to experience—a mountaintop experience: refreshing, exciting and challenging.

Cursillo is a short course in Christianity designed after Jesus’ model of taking his disciples away for a time to teach them about himself. We often get so busy with our lives, that we need this time to get away to be challenged and taught and inspired.

It all began on Thursday. Karl and Laura Hartronft, a couple from our church, drove us to the camp and dropped us off. We were warmly greeted and then we went to the chapel for a somber service of the Stations of the Cross and an evening of silence (to assist us in listening to God). On Friday morning, the silent portion of the retreat ended at breakfast and the rest of the weekend was filled with talks, discussions, and services—ending on Sunday with a great big celebration. It was quite an experience.

I was very impressed by how well they took care of us even to the smallest details such as setting out an array anything you can think of from aspirin to bug spray to super glue—in case you forgot anything. All throughout the weekend they had a table of food out the entire time and they were always looking for ways to serve us at every opportunity. The team worked very hard to see that we had a great experience of the love of Jesus Christ.

The camp where the weekend was held was beautiful with great accommodations—very similar to what a hotel room would have. Melissa and I took one afternoon to walk across the river and go trail walking and say hi to the horses that are scattered throughout the camp. The people were especially fun—constantly making jokes and laughing and having a good time. Everyone was very kind and I made a lot of new friends.

The weekend was full of prayer—soaked in prayer by the team members and people at many difference churches praying for us. Lives were changed over the weekend—it was as though you could see people visibly changing right before your eyes. God was at work. I was challenged to press on and grow further in the faith.

It is my hope and prayer that many people from St. Peter’s will be able to go to Cursillo. If you would like to be refreshed and encouraged in your faith Cursillo is an excellent experience. The next Cursillo weekend is scheduled for September 17-20, 2009. For more info check out
http://www.episcopalcursillo.org/ or for the history of the Cursillo movement en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cursillo

Visiting another Church

2009-04-05T15:55:00.004-04:00

Today after our service I went and visited another church in The Colony that has easily has five times as many people as we do in attendance on a Sunday, but discovered the service to be quite boring--it dragged on and on. I was somewhat amazed that people were willing to sit through that sort of thing Sunday after Sunday.

This was actually encouraging to me--I had the realization of how much potential our little church actually has. It seems that the reason why their church is so much larger than ours is because they have an excellent crew of Sunday School teachers that help to hold things together. The challenge for us at St. Peter's is to raise up leaders who will lead our community groups.

Noteless is going well

2009-04-05T15:53:00.003-04:00

The noteless preaching has been going excellent. I have received more positive feedback on the last few sermons that I have preached without notes than nearlly all of my sermons combined since arriving in Texas.

I feel as though noteless preaching has truly allowed me to be me with nothing held back.

Noteless Preaching

2009-03-20T11:20:00.002-04:00

This Sunday I am planning on preaching without using any notes. I’ve tried preaching without notes before and did so successfully, but discovered that I spent so much time practicing and attempting to memorize my sermon that it was not productive. Since that time I have gone through much learning in sermon development and composition and I think that I am ready to try it again. This past week I read a little book titled Preaching without Notes by Joseph M. Webb, who gave me the confidence to give it a go again and a method that does not take nearly so long to pack the sermon into your head so that it is ready to be released with the full power of Holy Spirit. I am looking forward to the challenge.

Texas: Our Next Adventure Awaits

2008-07-06T20:52:00.003-04:00

Earlier this year I remember waking one morning and feeling fear pressing upon me: I would be graduating from seminary soon and had no place to go, a wife to care for and student loans soon coming due. The heaviness upon me seemed to have grown like the giant icicles that hung outside the bedroom window. As Melissa lay sleeping beside me I prayed silently, “Dear Lord Jesus, I cannot bear this on my own. You have to take this from me.” And he did. I fell back asleep.

Graduation came and went and we still didn’t know where we were to go. Within a few days of leaving the school I received an offer to work as an assistant at a parish in Chicago—a nice position that came with a four bedroom house and a talented rector to learn under. But Melissa and I felt that this wasn’t where God was calling us and so I nervously turned it down.

A few days later I was ordained as a deacon in Florida and then flew to Houston to interview for an assistant position with a very likeable man and a great listener. Next I flew to a small town north of Dallas to look into a position as deacon-in-charge of a mission congregation of about sixty people. Although this would be a risk for a young guy like me, my heart leapt when I spoke with them—was God directing me toward Dallas?

Decision time came when the rector from Houston called about flying Melissa and me back for a second interview. Yet, I hadn’t heard from the church near Dallas—did our interview there go as well as I had thought? Were they going to extend a call? Were they hearing the same thing from God that I was hearing? I didn’t know, but I had to be honest with the rector from Houston who was now on the phone. “I’m beginning to lean strongly toward a church near Dallas,” I told him. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll keep looking.”

That same afternoon I received a call from the mission church near Dallas. They wanted me to come and be their pastor. And so we’re off. In less than two weeks time we head to Texas to learn and grow with St. Peter’s Episcopal Church. Our next adventure awaits.

May Newsletter

2008-06-09T20:34:00.000-04:00

There I knelt before the dean of the seminary, the faculty and hundreds of guests including the archbishop of Kenya and the archbishop of the West Indies. The chapel was packed full of people who had come to witness and participate in the 2008 graduation from Nashotah House Theological Seminary. As the faculty stood surrounding me in a half circle, the dean who sat in the center asked, “Sirs, do you approve?” “We approve,” they responded. And then the dean ceremonially tapped me on the head with a Greek New Testament and said, “I admit you to the degree Master of Divinity.” A hood was hung around my neck, I shook the Dean’s hand and then stood. This was the culmination of three years of study and discipline. I had made it through.

Over the next few days Melissa and I packed everything that we owned into a little U-Haul trailer that was hitched to our 1991, Oldsmobile (which by the way has over 260,000 miles on it) with the hope that it would take us back to Florida where I would be ordained as a deacon the following week. We said our goodbyes to the friends we had made--people we're going to dearly miss--and then began the two day drive. Unfortunately the drive was frought with stalls and difficulties including an over-heating car. Somehow or another, with much fear and trembling and prayer, we arrived in Florida.

A week later I found myself again in a great chapel, the Episcopal Cathedral in Orlando—a building of immense grandeur, of stone and gothic architecture. At the beginning of the service I and the others involved walked down the center isle to our seats. I was then presented to the bishop by the people of the Church to be ordained to the sacred order of deacons. Before everyone present I solemnly declared that I believed in the Holy Scriptures to be the Word of God, and to contain all things necessary to salvation, and to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of The Episcopal Church. The bishop then laid his hands upon my head and prayed, “Therefore, Father, through Jesus Christ your Son, give your Holy Spirit to Philip; fill him with grace and power, and make him a deacon in your Church.” And then all the people said, “Amen.”

And now, Melissa and I are off to follow God’s leading—the prayerful and humbling process of seeking a parish in which to serve. Melissa has also received her degree, Master of Arts in Religion, so we’re a dynamic, well trained team, sure to have an energetic impact where God calls us to be. We appreciate your prayers as we move through the interview process.

March Newsletter

2008-04-02T12:35:00.001-04:00

Alleluia! He is Risen!

Melissa and I hope that you are having a blessed Easter season. This semester has been a challenge between school demands and time spent seeking a position so that I will have a place to go when I graduate next month (May 22). My bishop has released me and his other seminarians to look outside of the diocese for positions. I've spent hours on the phone talking to people around the Church about possible leads and openings, networking and gathering contacts of those who would be willing to bring on a young, go-getter deacon, soon to be priest who is fired up about preaching the gospel. This whole process is pushing me to trust fully in God, as graduation creeps ever closer.

This week at the seminary I’m in charge of leading our chapel services—which includes singing some of the prayers—solo, an activity that brings on a feeling somewhere between thrill, terror and great humility as I lead God’s people in worship. I could feel myself shaking up there, but I made it through without the becoming the target of rotten fruit. I have a few more days yet to go, but so far everyone has said “You’re doing an excellent job.” I also preached my senior sermon in chapel a few weeks ago and received strong feedback, even from people who weren't there: “Hey Phil, I wasn't in chapel on that day but someone told me that your sermon was really good.”

Melissa has been working hard, but feeling somewhat down. Her time is spent at home sitting on the couch (or at Starbucks) reading theology and drafting the chapters of her master's thesis. As you know, Melissa is energized by being out and about with other people and so this introverted solo pattern of studying and writing is demanding on her extroverted personality. The professor who is overseeing her writing is pleased with her accomplishments on the thesis. Once that is finished she will be granted her master's degree in religion. The work, though draining will soon be done.

Please keep us in your prayers as our time at seminary draws to a close. After graduation we will be returning to Florida for my ordination to the transitional diaconate (May 31). If you are in the area, the service is at three o’clock at the Cathedral in Orlando and we would love to see you. We know that God already knows where we will best serve Him, he just hasn't revealed it to us yet. Please pray for us as we discern God's leading for our ministry in the Episcopal Church.

Voice of Deliverance: The Language of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Its Sources

2008-01-17T18:12:00.000-05:00

Here's an interesting book that I read yesterday about the influences upon some of the greatest sermons and speeches given during this century by one of Americas best orators, Martin Luther King Jr.

A Trip to New Orleans

2008-01-14T21:52:00.000-05:00

Last week, I and a few other seminarians went down to New Orleans to help out with the some of the relief efforts following Hurricane Katrina. We left Wisconsin at four in the morning and arrived at our destination, the basement/bunkhouse of a rectory at about ten o’clock that night.

The following morning we awoke for a breakfast of Beignets and coffee. During the drive to a local breakfast diner, I was awestruck by the array of mansions that lined picturesque St. Charles Avenue with its oak trees, joggers and the romantic rumble of streetcars as they passed. These Romanesque, French-chateau, and Greek revival style houses struck me as tremendously large with dozens of rooms in each, incredibly landscaped.

Behind this portrait of wealth and Southern charm, hidden away in the backstreets, were blighted ghettos, houses with caving roofs and broken windows—two different worlds separated by a walk of but a couple of minutes! Here there were no iPod attired joggers, but rather a black man who politely said hello and then went on carefully picking through a trash can, collecting cans and other bits of metal that he could sell by the pound to the local scrap metal dealer. These much smaller houses, had in the past housed the slaves that built and cared for the mansions on St. Charles Avenue, tending the lawns, cleaning the houses and cooking the meals.

A man by the name of Charles Jenkins, the bishop of Louisiana wants to change all of that and so he started an organization called the Jericho Road Episcopal Housing Initiative. This program was named after a speech made by Martin Luther King in which he said:

A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies...we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life's highway. True compassion is more that flinging a coin to a beggar. A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation. [1]

During the first day we worked on renovating a house which belonged to Mrs. Wilson. Her insurance company had given her but $2,000 for the damage, and so the church had stepped in to help. We and the other volunteers busily caulked cracks, framed windows and painted. Mrs. Wilson had been out of her house for over two years now, living along with her children at her sister’s two bedroom home, a place much too small for so many people. It is our hope that her house will be fully renovated and ready for her to move back in within about four months. The next day we helped to finish the landscaping around multiple houses that had been built in some of these bereft neighborhoods and then offered for sale at the lowest possible costs in hopes of revitalizing the community through increased home ownership.

During the evenings, Edward who lead the trip and is a native of New Orleans, had established invitations for us to the homes of his rector and his parents—an opportunity for us to experience true Southern culture which consisted of fine wine, fish tacos and boiled crawfish. Delicious.

The day before we left, we had the opportunity to meet Shakoor Aljuwani, a recent convert to Christianity from the Nation of Islam, and an amazing community leader who is functioning as a voice for the poor and oppressed people of New Orleans. As we bumped along in the back of his fifteen passenger van, he pointed out houses that had been wiped away by the waters of mighty Katrina. Other nearly deserted neighborhoods stretched for miles with but a worker here and there throwing rotten building material out of the house and onto the front lawn—growing piles of rubbish that had been blackened with mold.

We drove slowly through a neighborhood of brick buildings that had not been damaged by flooding, but had been secured by the government with great steal casings over the windows at the price of $110 each so that the owners could not return for their belongings. The government had been eager to demolish these functioning buildings and to replace them with more attractive houses. The evacuation of the city via Katrina functioned as a means to quickly remove people from these homes—though it pains me to know that for the past two years many have been without housing and their belongings, because of this decision. They are not allowed back into the buildings. A growing tent city of homeless folks sat as evidence of the treatment of people who did not have the ability to fight—people pushed under this overpass by government officials in an attempt to conceal the hideous sore of a people shorn of their homes and their dignity, dejected by the prosperous city owners. It was a bleak inconsolable passage through the hidden corners of the city. I felt myself becoming angry as I listened to stories of city counsel meetings and pleas for the poor of the city that were heard with disdain and then disregarded.

The church in New Orleans has regularly been sending their deacons to these tent villages with food, much to the disappointment of city officials who feel that this action simply encourages these folks to stay, yet I don’t know how it is humanly possible to ignore such destitution and impoverishment and still be able to live in good conscience

After the tour we had lunch with the bishop. He asked us what we had seen and what we would say to the people back home. It was clear to us that the racism and greed that was molesting the poor mostly black people of New Orleans was breaking his heart and had convinced him to take action in any way that he could. “When you go back home, tell my story,” he said to us, “Tell my story.”

The trip was an eye opening experience for me.

[1] Rev. Martin Luther King, “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence,” 4 April 1967 (Hartford Web Publishing, 1999), http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/45a/058.html (accessed on January 12, 2008).

Here is the Christmas Newsletter We Sent Out this Year

2007-12-30T21:27:00.000-05:00

We hope this letter finds you and your entire family joyful with the spirit of anticipation this Advent season as we await the coming of our Lord! Life at Nashotah House has been keeping both Philip and I busy with a conglomeration of holiday festivities, chapel services and community events—not to mention all the school work Philip has to complete before the end of the semester. Yet, through it all we have found it beneficial to fully participate in this season of Advent as we develop our own traditions as a family and celebrate and reflect with amazement on Christ’s incarnation as a tiny little baby.

We can’t believe that it was just this past summer when we shoved all of our belongings into our small hatchback and drove across the country to Nashotah, Wisconsin where Philip is finishing his last year of seminary. It seems like such a short time ago when we first pulled into our parking space at Sheridan 4C on the Nashotah campus. Our car was so full that it looked like a water balloon ready to burst! In no time we were unpacked, Philip began classes, and I started working as a teller at a local bank. Since then our weeks have been so full of activities that it is no wonder the time has passed quickly. Before we knew it, snowflakes began to flood the yard with piles of fluff while icicles started forming sculptures on our window panes. This winter sure has been a chilly one!

Philip’s school schedule keeps him moving from morning prayer at 8am until evening prayer at 4:30pm with classes and study in between, after which he is able to come home and relax just long enough to eat dinner and return to the library or his study in our frigid basement for an evening of reading Church History or writing papers for Liturgy I and II. Praise God his days of Greek and Hebrew are over!

My evenings are quite full as well. After returning home from work, usually around 6pm, I seem to have some sort of activity to fill my evenings every night of the week! Mondays I lead a women’s prayer group in our home, Tuesdays I have begun attending training classes for the Order of St. Luke, which is a healing prayer ministry. On Wednesday nights we have about eight vibrant and talkative teenagers pile on our couch, eat snacks and interrupt one another as they tell us all about their weeks for close to an hour, leaving about thirty minutes for us to teach them about coming Sunday’s gospel lesson. Thursday evenings there is a family Eucharist in St. Mary’s Chapel on campus which is usually followed by some other social event, and Friday evenings we have been hosting bon-fires outside our home to build community with our neighbors. And believe it or not, our weekends are just as crazy! Philip is filling in as pastor every other Sunday at a small parish of elderly folks and we are also participating in the Sunday evening contemporary service on campus. As you can see, life in Wisconsin has left us little time for relaxation, but God has been sustaining us and we are blessed to be a part of such a spiritually enriching community!

Next semester has a lot in store for us as well. Right after Christmas Philip will be taking the General Ordination Exam which is a four day process that will test him on what he has learned over the past two and a half years in seminary. The exam covers topics such as theology, church history, spiritual formation, liturgy and pastoral care. He is busy preparing for that on top of all his studies. After the exam is complete, Philip will load into a minivan with half a dozen other volunteers and travel down to New Orleans to assist the area still suffering from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Sadly I will not be able to join him.

When he returns, he will begin his final semester of seminary! However, once again his school responsibilities will be joined by a variety of other tasks like meeting with the Standing Committee, starting the deployment process with the Diocese of Central Florida and, assuming everything falls into place, preparing for ordination to the deaconate! We are really excited and overwhelmed, hardly believing that our three years of seminary are coming to a close!

As for myself, after a lot of prayer and discernment, we have decided that I will leave my job at the bank a little earlier than planned in order to give myself ample time to complete my Master’s thesis project. So next semester I will be spending a majority of my time in the library and interviewing as many people as I can to develop curriculum for a women’s bible study based on a theology and spirituality of the human body. This is a topic that God has placed on my heart and I am eager to develop it into both a spiritual discipline and a tool to help others integrate their bodies into their spiritual lives.

Well, that’s all for now! We hope that your lives are being filled to the measure with the complete love of Christ as we rejoice in his coming! If you are already receiving Philip’s email newsletter updates, “A Month in the Life of a Seminarian”
and would like to be put on that mailing list, send him an email.

Thank you for all your love, prayers and support. We are blessed to have you as a part of our lives and we could not have gotten to where we are today without your encouragement and prayers.

The Lord be With You,
Philip and Melissa

A Church Visit

2007-10-14T15:50:00.000-04:00

Today I visited Mamre Moravian Church, a denomination with a rich history within the pre-reformational pietistic movement. As I stepped out of the vehicle the first thing that I noticed about the church was that the entire building focused the viewers eyes upward until the view culminated at the steeple. I walked in and noticed the old wooden pews in a simple square shaped room surrounded by simple picture windows. Next my eyes noticed a very large box shaped pipe organ which took up the entire front right hand corner of the front of the church. Apparently the church had not been designed with an organ in mind. In the center was a pulpit flanked by two picture windows, one of of the Scriptures and another of two stone tablets. Above the pulpit hung a multi-pointed white star (which I later learned is supposed to communicate a symbol of diversity).

The service was led by a young lay member in his fifties and assisted by an organist. Attendance on that Sunday was twenty-one, however from what I understand there are normally less than twelve, the youngest of which is in his seventies.

The sermon went well. The guest preacher confidently began with a funny story about himself and continued in an organized and interesting fashion. The only part of the sermon that I thought was a might bit disconcerting was that each time he finished a main point of the homily, his voice tone and length of pause was such that I thought it was the end of his sermon, and then he would continue.

After the service was complete everyone went into a side room, and sat down around a couple of tables for coffee, brownies, cookies and conversation. There was lots of reminiscing amidst the dialogue, as well as friendly chatter and questions as to where I was from and the like. Everyone was very welcoming.

After the service I walked around through the grass around behind the church to use the outhouse. The church has no indoor plumbing of which I am aware. It was a two-seater, which I thought interesting. Curious how our culture has changed over the years since this outhouse was first built.

My visit left me wondering, what is it that keeps these rich and heartwarming folks returning to this pretty, but dwindling church, week after week with such dedication?

Mom's Suprise Birthday

2007-10-14T14:46:00.000-04:00

We had a great time at Melissa's Mom's suprise birthday party down in Florida this past summer.

Visiting with Dad in Florida

2007-10-14T14:31:00.000-04:00

We had a fun time visiting Melissa's dad and family while we were down in Florida a few weeks ago.

Biking with the Family

2007-10-14T14:21:00.000-04:00

Out deep woods biking with the family back in Michigan about a month ago (late August).

Climbing the Tower

2007-10-14T08:25:00.000-04:00

While we were at Holy Hill, Melissa and I took the opportunity to climb to the top of the tower which was a few hundred steps up into the air.

Somewhat tiring, however the view at the top was very pretty

A Visit to Holy Hill

2007-10-14T08:21:00.000-04:00

Last Sunday (October 7th), Melissa and I visited The Basilica of the National Shrine of Mary, Help of Christians, Holy Hill. Apparently this is a national pilgrimage sight and is considered very holy. It is one of the highest spots in Wisconsin and has a rich history that reaches back into the sixteen hundreds when Jesuit missionaries first came to this country. People go there for a variety of different reasons, though I thought it was interesting how many people had been healed there. One of the walls beside a small chapel had leaning up against it numerous crutches and even a blue leg cast that had apparently been cut off the person's leg while he or she was visiting the place. I was suprised by how many people were there. There were hundreds and hundreds of cars, along with multiple parking lots and people directing traffic telling us where to park.

Curiously the advertising did not clearly show that the site was Roman Catholic, though I immediately knew it was Roman, as I assume other do since it is a shrine of Mary. The advertising on the website was clear as were the listed times for mass, confession and a variety of other services.

The inside of the basilica was in excellent condition. I felt like I was in another world upon entering inside of what appeared from the outside to be a rough and dark and foreboding old building. The inside of the building appeared bright and massive with high arching ceilings that seemed to reach into the heavens. Light shone all around the artistically arranged lightly colored stone walls and beautifully painted windows. I felt as though I were being drawn toward the front of the building where the stone was arranged as if the paintings above the rerodos were bursting from the wall.

The characters leading the service were very sparse and consisted of a celebrant and someone I assume was a deacon since he carried the gospel book in the procession, though he was not dressed like a deacon. There was also an organist up on the balcony. The service was a weekly Eucharistic service (taking communion, for my more Protestant friends) which used a paperback missal and hymnal. The building was very full. There were probably about ten people or more per pew which would have totaled over a thousand people in the building attending the mass.

Welcome, was not a feeling that I would describe our experience. Melissa and I felt more like tourists which was fine since that’s what we expected at the shrine. No one greeted us on the way in, but when we slipped out while everyone else was going up for communion we received some very warm smiles and handshakes from some of the ushers as we headed out the door. The pre-service atmosphere was noisy: cell phones many people talking and people walking about the building to their seats. A few folks were kneeling to pray, though most were sitting and waiting or moving to their seats.

The service began when a very old man went to the lectern and said in a quiet, echoing voice that was very difficult to decipher, something about welcoming us to the Basilica, the intention of the Mass and a reminder to turn off our cell phones and the page number of the processional hymn. That is as close as I can come to exact wording. Due to the horrible sound quality and acoustics, the service was not easy to follow. I have, but a small amount of familiarity with the Roman Missal and was able to find a majority of the correct pages so that I could comfortably and securely follow the service, however this would have been very difficult for someone that was completely new to a Roman Catholic service. I would never even think about introducing someone to the historic liturgy of the church (such as a member of my very Evangelical family) at this service. After these initial announcements a hymn began and an old man wearing a light colored suit and a very small cross led the supposed deacon (same guy who had given the announcements, apparently had moved to the back of the room) who was wearing a black cassock and surplice and carrying the gospel high up in the air, followed by the celebrant who was wearing a green chasuble and wearing a headset type of microphone (the one that wraps around the ear and comes up along one’s cheek).

The greatest distraction at the church was the horrible sound quality both of the music, the readings and the homily. Interestingly, I was not distracted by the folks walking in and out of the side chapels during the service. The people movements off to the side seemed so tiny in comparison to the expanse of the building. The worship was muffled. During a majority of the service seemed as if everyone mumbled quietly through the service because they weren’t sure exactly what to say and did not know the hymns very well and so everyone was afraid to say anything with firm believe or confidence The only part of the service in which the congregation seemed some what assertive was in saying the Lord’s Prayer.

I assume that the service was about an hour and fifteen minutes or so. Melissa and I left just before everyone was about to go up for communion and by then the service had gone on for over forty-five minutes and I assume that it was going to take a while to communicate over a thousand people.

The sermon began fifteen minutes into the service and went for about half an hour. There were no announcements during the service and the peace lasted for but a few moments. On a scale of ten the preacher was somewhere between a five and six. During the beginning of the sermon he followed the lectionary reading from the Gospel and spoke about faith as Jesus had compared it to a mustard seed. Within the first fifteen minutes he had moved from the lectionary reading to speaking about the need for continual forgiveness. However for a majority of his sermon he spoke of the founding of our country on Christian principles and the sanctity of life as opposed to abortion. I found this very odd and was confused at the topical disparity. I am still confused as to how he managed to bring these completely different focuses together.

For me, the part of the service which was like being in another place was in the beginning before the service began, while I was taking in all of the beauty and wonderment of the heavenly space and exquisite artistry.

After the service we went to the gift shop and I bought Melissa a crucifix necklace for her birthday which is tomorrow (October 8th). I would not want to make this church my regular home. It was a fun place to visit. That is all.

As we drove away from the Basilica I wondered how anyone would be willing to give such a large amount of money to create such an incredibly beautiful building simply to have such awful performed services within it. The one think that I will think about all this week hence is why so many thousands of people would be drawn to a place with such poor churchmanship. Is it the holiness of the sight? The mystical nature of the place? The beauty of it all? The healings that have taken place there? The great connection with God that has been experienced by so many pilgrims at the sight? Some things to think about.

Melissa's Birthday

2007-10-09T12:17:00.000-04:00

Melissa had a fun twenty-fifth birthday with some friends of ours from the seminary at the Texas Roadhouse this past Saturday. Afterward we went back to the campus for cake and a bonfire.

September - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

2007-10-06T13:16:00.000-04:00

Greetings,
I've entered into a whole new world here at Nashotah House Theological Seminary: cassocks, morning and evening prayer, classes and work-crew. I normally rise about six o'clock to either run or lift weights, shower, read my Bible, pray and then stuff my books and computer into my bag, hop onto my bike at about ten to eight and ride off to chapel. After arriving, I quickly grab my cassock off of the hook, pull it on and walk to my assigned seat. The inside of the historic chapel is amazing to behold. The many surrounding statues of biblical characters, martyrs and bishops remind me that I am not worshiping alone, but am joined by a great cloud of witnesses. My mind wanders a bit as we all sit in silence and then suddenly the bell begins to ring and the sounds of creaking pews and feet against the wooden floor, swells throughout the room as we all rise for the service and make the most ancient of Christian symbols, the sign of the cross, remembering that we are crucified with Christ. The service has begun.

About an hour later, I and my classmates rush off to breakfast and then to class. I have a busy schedule which consists of a two liturgy classes in which I am learning how Christians have gathered together throughout history to worship God and commune with him; a class on the history of the Anglican church which is extremely and intriguing; ethics and moral theology taught by a Thomas Aquinas scholar; church music, in which we learn about how the church has used music throughout its history and also how to read music and to sing chants; and parish ministry, which is a class on how to be a pastor. During the afternoon I'm busy either with my studies, choir practice or work crew. The seminary follows a model which was established by a monk named St. Benedict back in the sixth century, in which he required his monks to follow a rule which separated the day into prayer, work and study. At four-thirty we gather again in the chapel for evening prayer and then I hope on my bike to arrive back at our apartment for supper with Melissa and then homework. The days here are very full.

Melissa has been hard at work. Within a few days of our move to Wisconsin, she was out and about applying for jobs. She went to nearly every bank in town and almost all of them called her back for an interview and then offered her the job. (My wife's a pretty amazing woman!) She finally accepted one of the positions only to have another bank call her a few hours later and offer her more money. It was a tempting choice, but because she had given her word and decided to remain at the bank where she had originally accepted a position. Since then she's been moving quickly up the ranks and will soon have senior teller status. I'm quite proud of her.

We've also been quite busy within the Seminary community. I tried out and was accepted into the choir and I have also obtained a job at the library where I'll be working for a couple of hours a week. Melissa and I have been given the opportunity to lead the youth ministry here on campus and have been having fun getting to know the young students. We've also been making lots of friends and have begun gathering folks together for a bonfire every Friday night. Oh, yes, before I forget, Melissa's birthday is coming soon (October 8th - the big two-five). She would love to here from you if you have a few minutes

Thank you for all of your prayers. My experience here at Nashotah has been very formational for me as I continue to follow God's leading. I know that this is where I am supposed to be. I mentioned in one of my letters that Melissa and I were going to be doing some fundraising because our finances were quite tight (we moved here with nearly no money, trusting that if it were God's will, he would provide) and we have been pleasantly surprised. Though not many people have yet responded, we are amazed at the generosity of those who have and we are very thankful for those folks who are prayerfully partnering with us in advancing God's kingdom; we are seeing and experiencing the fruit of your prayers everyday.

Feel free to write to us and let us know how you're doing. Melissa and
I miss all of you.

Life in Wisconsin

2007-09-16T22:40:00.000-04:00

OUR FIRST ADVENTURE
“Where could she be?” I asked myself while glancing at the clock which read in bold digital letters: 3:30 am. We had made it safely to Nashotah, Wisconsin, barely moved into our new apartment and now my wife was missing. Quite the scare, as I experienced it. Earlier that evening we had joined the seminary community for a Texas style barbeque. Toward the end of the night only about a dozen people were left, sitting around a bonfire. I left to go to bed, but Melissa stayed. I woke up a few hours later and noticed that she still wasn’t by my side.

I looked out the window to the field where the fire had been. Nothing. I looked in the bathroom and then downstairs in the living room. I began calling her on my nearly signal-less cell phone. Nothing, no answer. My stomach was now feeling tight, as I wondered what possibly could have happened to her.

I called my voice mail to see if she had left a message and sure enough, I hear: “Hello Babe, it’s 1:30 am and I’m locked out of the house.” “Locked out of the house?” I thought to myself, “We never lock the door. Did she go to the wrong door since all of the apartments are identical?” (I later discovered that when I swung the door open earlier, it had smacked up against the wall, pushing the button which locks the door, unbeknownst to me).

Though I still didn’t know where she was, I assumed that a neighbor took her in. My mind began to whir. “What is Melissa thinking of me? What are all of the folks at the bonfire thinking about me, a husband who locks his wife out of the house?” I walked into the bathroom and noticed her cell phone lying on the floor. “That’s why she isn’t answering.” I thought as I picked up the pink phone and flipped it open. I called back the most recent missed call. A woman answered the phone with a voice that sounded as if she was trying to be very quiet. “Is this my wife?” I asked. It was and a few minutes later she was home from our neighbor’s apartment. We were both happy to see each other.

While I was sleeping she had tried everything to get into the apartment. Even walking around back and attempting to climb onto our overhanging deck which was a good seven feet off of the ground. She borrowed a step ladder from one of the woman at the bonfire, climbed up, grabbed the rails and managed to pull herself over. As you know, Melissa wouldn’t exactly describe herself as an athletic or agile person and she was very proud that she was able to accomplish this James Bond like maneuvering, all while wearing a dress. Mixed with laughter, it was a great bonding moment for them. Yet, the patio door too, was locked. Now, how was she to get down? “I guess you’ll have to jump” the woman said. And so, with great fear, that’s what she did.

Eventually, after all attempts failed she ended up sleeping on the woman’s couch until we reconnected at 3:30 am. Neither of us obtained much sleep that night, though it was a fun adventure to share with everyone the following morning.

OUR CROSS COUNTRY TRIP (plus a few zigzags)
All else is going well. Our over packed car brought us safely out of New England, across the country, all of the way to the cheese state. During our journey we stayed with folks in three separate states. First with some friends in New York who had just had a baby, then camping with my family, followed by a two night jaunt in Detroit with Melissa’s sister. Next we flew to Florida for a surprise party for Melissa’s mom; back to Michigan for a few more days, a go-away party and then on the road to Wisconsin, well except for a stop in Chicago to have lunch with my brother. Finally we arrived at Nashotah, Wisconsin and followed the signs to Nashotah House Theological Seminary. We had reached our destination.

SETTLING IN
The past few weeks have been full of orientation sessions, unpacking boxes, and new classes however we are very excited about how welcoming and friendly everyone has been. Most folks spend a good deal of time outdoors: sitting on lawn chairs, watching children, and bonfires nearly every night. On Sunday Melissa and I decided to walk across the campus to join in on a softball game to which we had been invited. The walk would normally have taken about ten minutes, but our stops to say hi to folks along the way extended our journey to half an hour. We feel very blessed by God to have been led to this community of believers and we are excited about our time here.

July - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

2007-08-04T21:55:00.000-04:00

Greetings, I hope that you're doing well. I can hardly believe how fast the summer has fled on by. My internship at the hospital as a chaplain is now over and has been formative for me. God has been hard at work. When folks ask what I've been learning I usually say, "It's really helping me to be less of an idiot, ya know?" And its, true! I remember in particular an emergency room visit with a thin older woman, lying upon a propped up movable bed with a thin cotton blanket tucked around her, stopping just above the waist. Her curled thin white hair had been apparently well styled that morning and set above a slightly clenched, deeply wrinkled, petite face which matched her small body. Her skin was pale, though not sickly, but appeared as one who spent much of her time indoors. A flap of her shirt hung open exposing part of the right side of her upper chest and revealed a cord that ended in a circular sensor of some type held firmly to her skin.

I walked in and softly introduced myself as the chaplain while standing to the left side of her bed, and asked permission to sit down and visit. The woman went on to tell me about the lung mass that the doctors had discovered that day and of her fear that she would die the same horrible death of lung cancer through which she had recently watched her brother. She said that she wished that she would have gotten hit by a truck rather than to die in this way. As I sat beside her bed I felt her pain and fear of the future and with the intention to help her look at the bright side, I foolishly said, "Maybe the mass is not cancerous." At which she replied with angry frustration, "Oh, come on, what do you think it is? I'm not stupid. I know what it is." I quickly realized that I was attempting to fix her sadness by offering the "bright side" rather than being with her in this difficult emotion. Later I remembered the Apostle Paul's writing "weep with those who weep"(Romans 12:15). The visit went on as she shared and I listened. At the end of our visit I rested my hand softly on top of hers and she placed her other hand on top of mine and I prayed that God would bring comfort to her pain and that He would be with her throughout this time as long or short as it might be.

Little by little, from each patient I visit, from my fellow interns, supervisor, and others I have continued to practice and learn how to truly empathize and listen. This has been a tremendous lesson for me this summer and has helped not only in my ministry as a chaplain, but in my friendships and in my marriage.

Friday was my last day of the internship and today, Melissa and I are going to be driving away from Massachusetts to begin the trek which will eventually lead us to Wisconsin where I am planning to complete the last year of my Masters of Divinity degree. It has been somewhat difficult saying goodbye to the friends that we have made during the past few years here. Over the past couple of weeks we have been having dinners and eating ice-cream together with a multiplicity of people in an attempt to see everyone one last time in order to say goodbye before we leave.

We are thoroughly looking forward to the next month to relax, visit family and friends, and reflect on our time in Massachusetts. Melissa is looking forward to finishing up her last couple of classes on-line, diving into community life at Nashotah and having some extra time to pray and discern where God is leading her in her spiritual journey. She will also be looking for a job over the next few weeks, so please keep her in your prayers, that God will open doors for good relationships and a pleasant working environment.

The other day I received news that I'd received a three-thousand dollar scholarship that I had searched, discovered and applied for a few months back. Melissa and I were thrilled, since our budget for the next year is, well, how do you say it, short?...very short? As you know, schooling will hurriedly run a person's savings down! However, little by little as he always has, God is providing. The parish with whom we've been working, commissioned us last Sunday and presented us with a small check as has my sponsoring parish down in Florida and a few individuals who have been following our journey. We're also planning on doing some fundraising and we have always been amazed at the generosity of the people of God once they know the need. It's a huge privilege to be in the midst of God's work. Though future is uncertain, we trust that God will provide.

We are continually amazed from where God has brought us and where he is leading us to. We are excited to continue on the path he has prepared for us and are thankful that you have allowed us to share our journey with you.

Arrayah Zoe Ilyeen Mayer

2007-06-09T15:34:00.000-04:00

The letter I read today at her memorial service . . .

Dear Arrayah,

I first found out about you late last year. Your Aunt Melissa was on the phone with your grandmother and had mentioned to me that when she asked how your parents were doing, your grandmother had a happy glint in her voice as if she knew something. Your Aunt Melissa asked if perhaps your mom was pregnant, but your grandmother wouldn't say. After getting off of the phone your Aunt Melissa turned to me and said, "I think Kaley is pregnant and I think it’s a girl." "What? Nah I said. That can't be." But it was and in a short while I received the news from your very happy father. A few months later your older brother Jesiah celebrated his first birthday. I've only had the opportunity of seeing him a few times, but I think you would have enjoyed having him as an older brother.

Months went by and we thought and prayed for you and your family. Then in April I received a phone call and discovered that your mom wasn't doing so well and so she had to go into the hospital for a couple of weeks. I know that this was a difficult time for your family, but they were willing to do anything to take care of you and your mom. We could already tell that they loved you very much and your Aunt Melissa and I began to grow in our love for you also. We thought and prayed for you and your mom quite often now. A few weeks later your mom was doing better and they let her go home from the hospital, with which news I'm sure she was very excited and I bet that you probably felt her happiness from inside her stomach. Yet she still had to go into the hospital every day for check-ups. This took many hours, but we all knew that your mom and dad loved you very much and so it wasn't too many hours for them.

Our spring semester of school at our seminary had just ended and your Aunt Melissa and I were sitting in a pizza restaurant out in Cape Cod where we were staying to celebrate our second anniversary when we received the call announcing your birth. A big smile came across my face. Your Aunt Melissa saw my face and she knew. We were very happy for you, but concerned because some of the doctors were worried about you. I had never had a niece before and we were very happy and we continued to pray for you.

The next day your Aunt Melissa and I had just finished biking a tiring backwoods trail to the ocean and back, on our tandem bike and we were sitting on a bench, resting and looking out over the landscape when my phone rang. It was your grandmother. I asked how you were doing and after a moment of silence your grandmother said, "We gave her back to Jesus." "You gave her back?" I said. "Yes." she said. We cried.

She said that your whole family, even your brother, your grandparents, and some of your aunts and uncles had all gathered together and to hold you and to say goodbye. But your Aunt Melissa and I weren't able to be there. We weren't able to say goodbye. And so now we do. Goodbye Arrayah. Goodbye. Though we never got to see you we are sure that you were very beautiful and all the problems you had could not stop God from revealing himself through a child who never uttered a word. Not a pulpit, not a sleek presentation, not a best selling book, but in a four pound seven ounce girl with Triploidy disease, God found great pleasure in taking a lowly thing in the eyes of the world to show truth.

So today we celebrate. Arrayah you are well. And although we miss you more than we can express, we're only separated by our time here on earth. See you soon niece.

With much love from your Uncle and Aunt,
Philip and Melissa

“But Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven" (ESV Matthew 19:14).

April - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

2007-05-23T20:01:00.000-04:00

It has been a busy month since Melissa and I last wrote. Our spring semester of school has been successfully finished and Melissa and I have plans to travel down to Cape Cod to celebrate our second anniversary (which was actually April 23rd), so we are looking forward to that.

Our exciting month began with an incredible Holy Week at our church, especially the Triduum service which consists of Maundy Thursday (Jesus last meal with his disciples), Good Friday, and the Great Vigil of Easter (Easter actually begins at Sundown on Saturday since according to the Jewish calendar the day ends and another begins at sundown). Beginning on Thursday, midway through the service the lights begin to dim, the songs become slow and sad and the mood somber, rather like a funeral. The priests wear black. There are many periods of silence. The readings are those of Christ's passion: his capture while praying in the garden and then on Friday, his crucifixion. Christ is dead and a sinking heavy feeling comes upon you throughout the day. It is as if you are experiencing Christ's suffering along with him. With this atmosphere and emotion the Easter Vigil begins on Saturday, in complete darkness. However, about midway through the service as the church begins to fill with candle light, Easter begins. After suffering through these mournful, wearisome, and solemn services (of which the church has been packed every night since Thursday) we can hardly await the words of the priest as he shouts three times, "Alleluia! Christ is risen!" and we all shout back, "The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!" Suddenly, a great change comes upon the room. All the lights are now on as bright as possible. Everyone is crying, yelling and screaming in celebration. Christ is risen! Energy is pulsating through the room like you've never felt before as people pull bells out of their coats, purses and bags and began shaking and ringing them with all of their might. You are now yelling in excitement as loud as you can, but you cannot hear yourself. The room is filled with sounds of worshippers bellowing and singing at the top of their lungs praises to God. Hands are raised and everyone is whistling and shouting and crying all at the same time. Alleluia! Christ is risen!

A week later, we boarded a plane and flew down to Florida to go before the Commission on Ministry for an emotionally tumultuous weekend in the ordination process. I, along with six others, would go before a group of about twenty to thirty clergy and laypeople who would say to me after the weekend, "Yes, we affirm your calling to the priesthood and encourage you to continue the process." Or "No, we do not think that you are called to be a priest." My destiny, I felt was in there hands. The weekend retreat is called BACAM, which stands for the Bishop's Advisory Counsel on Aspirants for Ministry. It is from their recommendation that the bishop normally chooses who will go forward to become an official Postulant, which is a Latin word for "asking" or "requesting," in this case, to be a priest. So, on Friday Melissa and I arrived at the retreat center and met with the commission for dinner and introductions and then after a sleepless night, we went before four smaller committees of two to three people each to be interviewed on four different areas. Then lunch, and then we left, however the commission stayed at the retreat center to discuss the participants and to decide those which they would recommend to the bishop and those who they would not. Melissa and I flew home and waited. We waited with eagerness and a little fear too for the arrival of the bishops letter with the news. On Thursday it came. I brought it upstairs and looked at it for a moment before calling Melissa who was at work at the time. "It's here." I said. "Did you open it?" she asked. "No, I wanted to call you first so that you would be on the phone when I opened it." And then I did, and I read the words from Bishop Howe, "Dear Philip: I am happy to report to you that the Commission on Ministry has recommended to me, as a result of the BACAM Conference held on April 13th and 14th, that you continue in the process toward Ordination to the priesthood. I am delighted to accept that recommendation." Woo-hoo! I made it.

The one other piece of news that you should know about is our plans for this summer. One of the steps in the ordination process is to take Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) which is a program of intensive training, encountering people in crisis within the hospital setting. I had applied, interviewed and been accepted into a summer CPE program this past December, but had turned it down due to financial concerns. However because the Commission on Ministry strongly recommended that I go through the program this summer, even though it is going to be a great faith and financial stretch for Melissa and I, we decided to see what I could do. Upon arriving back in Massachusetts I called the hospital where I was previously accepted. However, as is understandable they had given away the spot which was previously offered to me. So, I called every CPE program within an hour and a half radius as well as Florida (where Melissa's family lives) and Michigan (where my family lives), but was unable to find any openings this late in the game since it is normal to apply, be interviewed and then accepted six months in advance of the beginning of the program. However God is merciful and within a few days I received a call from a hospital which is located about thirty to forty-five minutes from our house with a position that had recently opened. I was interviewed and soon afterward, learned that I had been accepted into the program. So, I'll be spending over forty hours a week throughout this summer meeting with folks in any of the units from intensive care to cardiac, birthing or even a locked psychiatric unit. It is supposed to be a rigorous and often difficult and heart wrenching experience, but also a time of intensive growth. I'm looking forward to ministering to and learning from the many people with whom I'll be meeting as a hospital chaplain.
As you can see from the above, this last month has been a big experience in learning to trust God. He knows what he is doing and has been taking excellent care of us, though sometimes I have trouble seeing this over the looming challenges. Though I occasionally doubt my calling to be a priest when seeming difficulties and challenges arise, God continues to provide and to keep opening the doors and so we continue to move forward. Thank you for all your prayers and encouragements.

Brian

2007-04-21T10:28:00.000-04:00

Brian Barry, after kindly purchasing some soda for my wife's upset stomach

Dad

2007-04-21T10:24:00.000-04:00

This is my dad and the dog.

March - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

2007-04-07T13:40:00.000-04:00

Greetings all from Massachusetts,
The weather here has been traumatizing lately. Some folks—including my wife—are nearing mental breakdown due to the tantalizing sunshine and sixty degree flirtations, which are here for a day and then followed by the normal slew of snow and ice. Today is another one of those teasing days—though I can see brightness shining through our venation blinds I don’t know what the temperature is since I haven’t been outside yet, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Winter, here in Mass is rather like a bad sermon—never ending.

The big news from this past month was our trip to Nashotah House Theological Seminary in Wisconsin. Melissa and I met with Bishop Howe back in December and he had mentioned that he would like us to visit the school and strongly consider studying there for a year. So, the wife and I piled into our car along with our travel pillows some tubes of Pringles, Little Debbie Cakes and a couple of suitcases. Twelve hours later after traversing across the state trooper laden highways of New York and the deserted stretches of Canada we arrived in Detroit, Michigan to slumber on a friend’s couch. The next day we drove to Chicago for dinner with my sister and her husband and a fitful sleep on an over inflated air mattress (Melissa liked it). Finally, on Thursday morning we drove up along Lake Michigan into Wisconsin and arrived at our destination.

Just outside of a quant little town called Delafield—which reminds one of driving through Pleasantville—near wide swaths of farmer’s fields one can find the seminary hiding away from the road on the eastern shore of Nashotah Lake. Melissa said the school reminded her of a retreat center quietly placed amidst towering trees. We arrived in time for the first class of the morning: Ascetical Theology (a class focused on the priesthood and Christian spirituality in ministry; in particular the priest’s role as spiritual guide and confessor) with Father Klukas. While he lectured, students laughed about his stories and jokes concerning the priesthood and tossed in jokes of their own—all of this while scribbling or typing notes concerning the theology of the priesthood. The atmosphere was very different from the serious, overworked tone of the students where Melissa and I currently attend. Throughout the rest of the day at the little school, (about 75 students total) folks warmly greeted us with an outstretched hand and a smiling face. That afternoon I was interviewed by the dean, registrar and a leading member of the faculty, and then after gathering for chapel that afternoon, a couple from the school took us out for supper. Ah, the memories I still have from that rib-eye steak and glass of Valley Of The Moon Sangiovese, though the slice of cucumber that they put in my water was a little weird. The next morning I got up for the daily chapel service and enjoyed the service, though my knees felt like a little kid after his first couple of days learning to rollerblade. The folks at Nashotah like to kneel a lot—with no padding. After attending a few more classes we grabbed some lunch in their cafeteria, thanked everyone at Nashotah for their hospitality and were off on our cross-country journey back to New England. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to the seminary. We were impressed by the culture—friendly and close knit and unlike Gordon-Conwell, which trains scholars, Nashotah House is forming pastors to serve people. Melissa and I are feeling drawn by God and have been praying quite a bit about a potential move there this fall.

Back at the homestead, I was preaching about the Sabbath a few weeks ago at our local parish. As I was coming to the end of my sermon I said, “There are three ways that we can practice Sabbath in our lives” then I gave the first and the second, but I couldn't think of the third. I went blank and I had just promised to share three ways. This has long been my greatest fear, especially as of late since I have been working on preaching note-less. The normal reaction when you go blank is to review the points of you sermon up until then, with the audience and this gives you time to remember what is next. So, that is what I did, but I still didn’t remember. Nothing. I said, “You know what, I can't remember the third way that we should put this into practice.” Everyone laughed. While they were laughing, the point came to me and I finished the sermon well. Going blank is not so bad. Suffering through my worst fear was a good experience for me.

Blessings,
Philip and Melissa

A Chilly Run

2007-03-03T13:50:00.000-05:00

During our youth skiing and snowboarding trip this past January, I persuaded some of the teen guys, including Ralph, who you see in this picture with me, to run in our swimming trunks back from the pool to the condo where we were staying. I think that it was around seven degrees outside that evening. By the time we made it back to the room our hair was frozen! Talk about a rush!

February - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

2007-03-03T12:30:00.000-05:00

Greetings all, from icy Massachusetts. Melissa and I have amazingly made it through all twenty-eight days of February. One day the frozen water was so thick on the car windshield that I might as well have been chipping away at a granite carving with a plastic fork.

A couple of weeks ago we had the excellent opportunity of pet and house-sitting for a family in our church while they went to Antigua for the weekend. The place was huge with fireplaces, a sauna shower, maids that came nearly every day and even an outdoor hot tub that was kept at 104 degrees! If you could bear walking across the icy snow in your bare feet (which we did) the pool of steaming water was waiting to melt you like a marshmallow in hot chocolate. Oh, and I was even allowed to use the Audi—heated seats and all! What a grand little blessing from God for Melissa and me.

However the big news of the month is that on February nineteenth, I boarded a plane and flew to Florida for a rigorous week of meeting with the parish discernment committee from the church that is sponsoring me for the priesthood. The week went well. The structural design of the meetings created an excellent atmosphere for in-depth questioning and discussion of my life and ministry. Though I had known some of the folks on the committee for quite a while, others I met for the first time and so our first assembly consisted of a light evening of conversation, laughter and enjoying a meal together. The second meeting, like the first was an enriching time of relational building as we went around the room and shared our stories, our struggles and triumphs. It was a heart-felt gathering even bringing tears to some, and an eye opener for me to have the privilege of being able to be part of the lives of some wonderful people. There could not have been chosen a finer, more thoughtful and caring group of folks with whom to complete this part of the process toward holy orders. Also during the week I was able to help out with the pancake dinner on Shrove Tuesday and assist in a church workday on Saturday to clean out the attic and I enjoyed getting to better know some of the folks on the committee in a different and less formal setting. The last few meetings involved many questions about my life, calling, gifts, and theology, past ministry experiences, strengths and areas which are in need of improvement. It was a challenging but excellent and extremely beneficial experience.

Now I am back in Massachusetts with my much missed wife. She would have loved to come to Florida with me if she could have obtained the needed time in the midst of school and work commitments. Yet, now we are back together. And so I am back to studying theology and assisting at the church and enjoying the many good people who God has given us as friends here in New England.

January - a month in the Life of a Seminarian

2007-02-05T08:55:00.001-05:00

Meeting with the Church in Florida

Greetings, I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas. Melissa and I had an excellent time down in Florida. We were very encouraged in our meetings with a variety of different folks in the diocese. I was able to spend a good amount of time with Father Andrew, who is mentoring me through the discernment process and he was very kind to allow me to preach on the fourth Sunday in Advent. Father Jon Davis, a friend of Melissa's showed us around his church plant in Oviedo and we very excited to learn of all the great things that are happening at the new mission. We also met with Bishop Howe, who strongly urged us to look into Nashotah House Theological Seminary and so we are planning on visiting the seminary toward the end of March. Afterward, Tom Rutherford, our commission on ministry representative, was very kind to take us out to lunch and get to know us. He is a very genuine man and we are grateful to God that he is assisting us with this process.

On the first Sunday after Christmas I was honored to be invited to preach at the parish of Father Al Jenkins, who Melissa and I came to know while we finished up our undergraduate studies at Southeastern University. We also met with Beverly Jennings who, along with her husband is graciously leading the parish discernment committee which will be helping us to determine whether or not we should move forward in the ordination process. The people to whom God has led us to down in Florida have been a tremendous blessing and very encouraging-- especially in this tumultuous time of questioning and searching, making mistakes and trying to discover where God is leading.

Fun with Family

We also had a nice time visiting with family. Melissa's sister and her husband generously hosted us and lovingly put up with our hectic holiday schedule. We spent much time going back and forth from house to house seeing Melissa's mother and father, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends, and going to multiple Christmas parties. Attempting to fit months and months worth of family relationships into a couple of short weeks is not a simple task. One of our Christmas gifts was to be able to go and see an amazing indoor display of ice sculptures- something one would not normally expect in sunny Florida. A giant freezer was created inside of a hotel and with a temperature of a mere nine degrees in which we, while shivering, were able to see life size sculptures of people, a train and a breathtaking crystal clear nativity scene along with other stunning works of art. At the very end we climbed up a set of steps made out of ice and slid down an ice slide -which was extremely cold, but great fun.

Life in Massachusetts

The day after our return to Massachusetts it was back to seminary classes. I have excellent professors this semester and am thoroughly enjoying my studies, although the pile of work that is growing before me seems overwhelming. Melissa is taking classes at Boston College this semester, as well as at the seminary, and she is looking forward to completing her course work for her master's degree by the end of this summer. This past weekend we took the youth skiing and snowboarding for the weekend. Those few days of swimming, video games, movies, multiple late nights and sore muscles from the slopes were enough to wear out an entire army of youth leaders, however we survived. Near the end of each day we gathered together for Compline and reflection on the workings of God in our day and it was always interesting to hear how the youth saw God working in their lives-from a near death experience on the slopes to another while flying a plane (one of the youth has his flying license) to helping out a fellow skier who had injured himself in a painful fall. On Sunday Father Bart presided over our own Eucharist Service up on the slopes-which was somewhat physically challenging with each of us trying not to slip and slide down the hill during the short service. However it was a peaceful experience surrounded by God's beauty of snow whitened mountains and the voices of a group of young people singing the doxology.

Thank you for all of your prayers. Melissa and I would love to hear about what is happening in your life. Feel free to email us.

Youth Sermon on Persecution

2006-12-04T09:52:00.000-05:00

Throughout this past week I worked on preparing my talk for the youth ministry this coming Sunday. I normally have three struggles when I am preparing a sermon: first not knowing what to say; second, after some time spent researching and studying, having too much to say and not knowing what to cut out of the talk; and third, often personal struggles and convictions. It was this third problem that was a continual difficulty for me in preparing my talk for Sunday on the last beatitude: blessed are the persecuted. As I began to research this beatitude, as I have been during my previous teachings on the beatitudes I read Gregory of Nyssa’s sermon on this eighth beatitude and according to his writing early Christians threw themselves headlong in eagerness toward persecution. This of course did not originate with Gregory for we also find it in Hebrews: “Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection” (11:35). As an American with implanted cultural values such as the utmost importance of human life above all other things (humanism) and production, at first thought it seems to me that the wiser choice would be to flee persecution, preserve your life and then spread the gospel to others. Does that not seem like a much more sensible choice? Yet both Jesus and the author of Hebrews commends those who are persecuted. And so I wrestle.

Here is my talk:

MESSAGE

Beatitudes: Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, because great is their reward in heaven (Matthew 5:10-12)

INTRODUCTION

(While adding ice and salt to a five gallon bucket of water and then stirring say) I am creating an incredibly cold bucket of water, with not only ice, but salt which lowers the temperature at which water freezes, thus creating extremely cold water. I have here twenty marbles (drop them in the bucket) I also have twenty one dollar bills of which I will give you one dollar for every marble that you take out of the bucket—with your toes. Now this is going to hurt—BAD! Who is willing to go for it?

Why was _____ willing to go through the pain of sticking his foot into freezing cold water? Because he was no thinking about the pain of the water, but about the reward. That is what Jesus was saying when he said “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matthew 5:10-12). I have only two points: Persecution and Reward.

PERSECUTION

So onto number one: Persecution: Just a few months ago Chinese Christians were attempting to build a church for about 5,000 parishioners. “Witnesses told TIME that at about 2:30 p.m., thousands of uniformed police and plainclothes security officers appeared at the construction site. The police cleared a way through the crowds for a few drill-equipped backhoes, and the authorities then demolished the church. Witnesses say police bludgeoned people indiscriminately with nightsticks. "They were picking up women--some of them old ladies--by their hair and swinging them around like dolls, then letting them crash to the ground," says a man who watched the clash from across the street.” [1] Yet even with all of this persecution there are currently there are 65 million Chinese believers and thousands more converting every day.[2]

By the time he was fourteen years old Richard Wurmbrand had became an atheist and believed that notions toward religion or believing in God were harmful toward humanity. Yet, for some odd reason he was continually drawn toward churches and would often listen to sermons, yet nothing changed in his heart. One day he prayed, “God, I know surely that you do not exist. But if perchance you exist, which I contest, it is not my duty to believe in You; it is Your duty to reveal Yourself to me.”[3]

During this same time an old builder who lived high up in the village also prayed that God would give him his reward here on earth as well as in heaven and prayed that his reward would be bringing a Jew to Christ since Jesus was born to the Jewish people. Now this was an odd prayer for him to pray since there were no Jews in his village. Interestingly, Richard Wurmbrand was a Jew and he said that for no reason at all he felt drawn to that village. There were twelve-thousand villages in Romania, yet he went to that one. Richard Wurmbrand went on to tell that that when he went to the village that old builder went after him like never a young boy went after a beautiful girl and he gave him a Bible to read. Now Richard Wurmbrand had read the Bible before out of cultural interest, but this was different. The old builder would later tell Richard Wurmbrand that he and his wife had prayed for hours and hours for his conversion to Christ. “The Bible he gave me was written not so much in words, but in flames of love fired by his prayers.”[4] He could barely read, but rather cry as he opened the pages and compared his life with Christ’s. He soon came to the faith and became a wildman for Christ spreading the gospel and pasturing those who had come to the faith.

It was during this time that Russians took over Romania and brought communism to power. Richard Wurmbrand considered this to be a great opportunity to spread the gospel since many Russians are raised from childhood as atheists. One day Richard Wurmbrand went into the Russian army barracks and pretended he wanted to buy a watch, but instead he began asking the Russians “Are any of you named Paul or Peter?” some were and he began telling them about the Apostles Peter and Paul. Soon a group of men gathered around him. Returned often to the barracks to talk to the men and many would soon take up the Christian faith. The Russians loved children and he would often send his children to give the solders Bibles and other books about the faith. Soon many Russians came to the faith and Richard Wurmbrand became their pastor. The communists however saw this as a threat to the political system they were trying to build and threw Richard Wurmbrand into prison.

While in jail, the communists wanted him to tell them who and where the rest of the Christians were, but Richard Wurmbrand refused. So they put handcuffs on him that has sharp nails and poked inward toward his wrist. If he remained perfectly still the nails would not hurt. But because it was cold he would began to shake and soon the nails were digging into his skin. Or other times they would put him into a freezer and just before he felt as if he were to die, they would take him out and allow him to become warm and then they would put him back into the freezer again. They did this repeatedly. Or they would make him and the other prisoners stand in boxes with sharp nails and other sharp objects poking inward. As long as you stood perfectly still you would not get poked, but since you were required to stand for hours, standing still was impossible and the objects pierced his sides. Other times in order to get him to deny his faith they would burn him with red hot irons, yet Richard Wurmbrand would not give in.

While he was in prison he preached the gospel to his fellow prisoners. He said we had a deal: we preached, they beat. They were happy beating, we were happy preaching. He told of one man who was caught preaching and sharing his faith and the guards grabbed him, hauled him off and beat him so badly that he could hardly stand and then threw him back into the cell. The man struggled to get up off of the floor and as he pulled himself up he said, “Now brothers where were we?”

Another Christian was burnt with red hot pokers and cut with knives until he had open sores all over his body. Then they forced starving rats into his cell through a pipe, which he had to constantly fight off to keep from attacking him. Even worse when he would not give up the names and locations of Christians he knew outside of the prison they began beating his own son in front him, until finally he could not take it any more and he said, “’Alexander, I must say what they want! I can’t bear your beating anymore!’ The son answered, ‘Father, don’t do me the injustice of having a traitor as a parent. Withstand! If they kill me, I will die with the words, “Jesus and my Fatherland.”’ The Communists, enraged, fell upon the child and beat him to death, with blood spattered over the walls of the cell. He died praising God.”[5] The man who watched was never the same after seeing this.

The author of Hebrews wrote “Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated--the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground” (11:35-38).

St. Gregory of Nyssa wrote of early Christians: “Thus Paul receives the cross, James the sword; Stephen the stones, the blessed Peter is crucified head downwards. All the later fighters for the faith suffer many forms of torture, being thrown to the beasts and into pits, being burned with fire or frozen with cold, having their sides flayed and their heads transfixed by nails; or their eyes are put out, their fingers cut off, their bodies are rent in two by their legs beign pulled apart, or they suffer starvation. . . Thefore, Blessed are those who suffer persecution for my sake.”[6]

The current rate of martyrdom is 100,000 to 200,000 killed each year and this number is growing as more folks become Christians—even through these horrible persecutions, Christianity continues to grow and thrive.

REWARD

Which brings us to number two: Reward. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10) Here on earth those who are persecuted have the honor of becoming part of a kingdom where Jesus is king. Yet not only are we rewarded here for suffering for Christ but also in heaven. We are to rejoice since Jesus said “great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (5:12). Many times while Richard Wurmbrand was in prison he told of Christians who with smiles and excitement on their faces, were actually happy about their persecutions because they were to be counted among those great prophets of old, heroes of the faith. Isaiah who was sawn in two, Jeremiah who was reviled and thrown into a cistern, and Daniel who was thrown to lions and God delivered him. Our lord and savior Jesus Christ was persecuted, as was the Apostles Peter, who was nailed upside down to a tree, James who was thrown off of the temple and clubbed to death and John who they put inside of a pot of boiling oil. Those who are persecuted get to be part of the group of the great men and women of the faith. Though we do not know exactly what it is, the reward in heaven is great—truly great. The reward will be so great that the sufferings will almost be forgotten as nothing in comparison. Saint Teresa said that an entire life of pain can be compared to one night in an inconvenient hotel, that is how great our reward. Paul said “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).

CONCLUSION

Jesus said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10). “All Christians are persecuted, but some more than others for two reasons. Either they live in an unusually evil environment or they are unusually good Christians. Most of us aren’t good enough to be persecuted much by the paganism of one of the most Christian nations in the world. Since most of us are lukewarm, we are therefore safe, for the world persecutes mainly great saints and great sinners.”[7]

However, for those of us who are willing to do whatever it takes to live righteously as Christians there will be persecution. Yet we take comfort in knowing that “The very worst the world can do is kill us, and all that does is send us Home. There is simply nothing left to fear, “neither death nor life, nor angles nor principalities nor powers, nor any other created thing” (Rom 8:38-39).”[8] The apostle Paul stuck his tongue out at death and said “O death where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory?” (1 Cor 15:55)

In your life you may be persecuted at school for living righteously: Maybe it is because your refuse to cheat on a test. Perhaps you have decided to keep yourself sexually pure. Or guys, when everyone else is looking at porn you turn away. Maybe you will be persecuted for refusing to fight someone who is angry at you—and this does not mean simply physical fighting, but also choosing not to fight back with your words. Perhaps you will be made fun of for hanging out with that kid who always has a booger hanging half out of his nose. I do not know what it may be, but my question to you is do you have what it takes to stand up to persecution for doing the right thing. Are you willing to go the distance no matter what the cost?

I would encourage you to find out more about what is going on in the church around the world. You can read more about Richard Wurmbrand’s incredible story, some of which I have shared with you today, in his book, Tortured for Christ which has sold millions of copies and been translated into 65 languages. There is also this series put out by dc Talk called Jesus Freaks and is filled with incredible stories of Christians and their extreme faith and the classic text of great men and women who have been killed for their faith is this book, Fox’s Book of Martyrs. If you are up for some incredible and inspirational stories I would encourage you to buy one of these books.

There was a young Christian girl who communists were intending to arrest because of her faith, yet to make her arrest crueler they waited until her wedding day. As she was standing at the altar getting married to her husband, the secret police burst into the room, grabbed her and put chains on her wrists. The young bride leaned down and kissed the chains and said, “I thank my heavenly Bridegroom for this jewel He has presented to me on my marriage day. I thank Him that I am worthy to suffer for him.”[9]

May we also be willing to suffer for the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[1] Simon Elegant / Nangjing "The Ware for China's Soul" Time: From the Magazine (Sunday, Aug. 20, 2006), http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1229123,00.html.

[2] Richard Wurmbrand, Tortured for Christ (Battlesville: Living Sacrifice Book Company, 1998), 12.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid, 13.

[5] Ibid, 34.

[6] St. Gregory of Nyssa, The Beatitudes, “Sermon 8”

[7] Peter Kreeft, Back to Virtue: Traditional Moral Wisdom For Modern Moral Confusion, (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1992), 184.

[8] Ibid, 187.

[9] Ibid, 38.

Bishop Donald Harvey

2006-11-30T17:47:00.000-05:00

Today I drove with some friends to the Church of the Holy Trinity in Marlborough to watch some friends of mine be confirmed. Afterward I had the pleasure of having lunch with Bishop Donald Harvey who is the retired Bishop of Eastern Newfoundland and Labrador, which as you know is in Canada. I highly admire the passion of this man and his depth as a minister of the gospel.

C.S. Lewis

2006-11-22T08:13:00.000-05:00

I was given the opportunity to preach today at Christ Church for two of the services. Below is my sermon.

According to the church calendar, today as you know, is the feast day of C.S. Lewis. When I first discovered the Anglican Church and learned of feast days I thought, "What a great church! We get to eat and have all of these grand feasts throughout the year!" However, I quickly learned that feast days simply refer to the days of the year that we remember those saints who have come before us and today we do so for Lewis. Clives Staples Lewis or "Jack" to his friends was ruddy apologist with baggy tweeds, a booming voice, bald head, and horne-rimmed spectacles. Many view him as the most well read Christian author of the 20th century. However his journey to Christianity took the first thirty-one years of his life. It is this story that I would like to share with you today as he recorded in his autobiography, Surprised By Joy.

As a child Lewis was rather withdrawn from what he viewed as a repressive life-a worldview that would quickly lead to atheism. He was not a popular boy. "I was big for my age," he wrote, "a great lout of a boy, and that sets one’s seniors against one. I was also useless at games. Worst of all, there was my face. I am the kind of person who gets told, ‘And take that look off your face too’"1 even though I was not trying to reveal any certain emotion. He did not really have any friends apart from his brother and he could often be found thumbing through the various stacks of books which his father and mother left scattered throughout the house and creating a written world he called animal land. After the death of his mother his father never really recovered. He was gone most of the time, thus leaving Lewis and his brother home alone and when his father was at home, he was quite absent minded, very emotional and had a horrible temper. Lewis and his brother were always looking forward to the next day when he would again leave for work. Lewis hated school and vividly remembered his first day when his mother dressed him in an outfit of stiff irritable clothes and sent him off. The teachers were cruel and beat him. Through these experiences he learned to hate the world in which he lived and God for creating such a place. He wrote, "I was at this time living, like so many Atheists or Antitheists, in a whirl of contradictions. I maintained that God did not exist. I was also very angry with God for not existing. I was equally angry with Him for creating a world"2. He would go on to study under a man who he called the Great Knock, who would open up his intellectual world and allow him to fully and mindfully enter into atheism.

However as he grew and learning he began to discover difficulties in the beliefs which grounded his atheism. As a college students he began to lose his chronological snobbery, his belief in realism and he realized of the depth Christian authors. First, to go was his chronological snobbery-the belief that the latest and greatest scholarly work was correct and ancient works such as the Bible were outdated. It seems that here in the west many of us have this same view. The lastest and the greatest is the best of all. Just this week people were standing in lines for up to thirty six hours to obtain the latest Playstation 3 video game system. In the quest of the latest and greatest some were trampled, others shot and one person was even stabbled over in Manchester, Connecticut! We worship youth and revile old age by making jokes about older folks in our birthday cards. In the scholarly world, many scholars from the two most recent century have proposed that the Gospels and Epistles were not written by those who claimed to write them, such as Mathew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul, and therefore are not credible. Yet over 1,800 years of careful study has shown the very opposite. All of a sudden it is as if we are smarter than all of those who have come before us. When Lewis was forced to think about past wisdom he had to ask himself, had that information been refuted and by whom and how conclusively or did it simply die away in the scholarly world as often fashions do? Second, Lewis lost his trust in realism-the belief that only that which can be touched and which can show forth evidence is to be believed. In our culture is seems that imperical science carries this great prestige above and beyond theology and philosophy and all of the other sciences. It seems that people automatically assume that that which we can touch and physically prove must be the truth and all else is false--completely forgetting that even imperical evidence has to be interpreted. Lewis realized that there were all kinds of things which he held to that had no physical evidence: he trusted his own thoughts, he trusted his moral judgements as valid, and his aesthetic experience as valuable. Third, Lewis discovered that some of the smartest people he knewindividual believed in God. At Oxford clearly one of the most intelligent and best informed men in his class was a Christian-a thoroughgoing supernaturalist. He would go on to discover that all the books were turning against him--his favorite authors which had had a great effect upon him: George MacDonald, Johnson, Spenser and Milton, Plato, Aeschylus. And those others which held to his theories of atheism, Shaw and Wells, Mill and Gibbon and Voltaire all seemed thin and lacking in depth. As his intellectual base for atheism began to crumble so also did his journey begin to the belief which would change his life forever.

He would go on to write these words: "In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape? The words compelle intrare, compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation"3. This was the begining of his move to truth. And so after 31 years during a motorcycle ride to the zoo with his brother he would come to believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and from there become the most well known Christian author of the 20th century. Amen.

1. C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955), 95.
2. Ibid, 113.
3. Ibid, 215.

2006-11-21T16:50:00.000-05:00

After a long day of studies at the seminary, my lonely car awaits to carry me home while silently and patiently enjoying the incredible brushstrokes of creation in the distance.

Dinner at the Lemons

2006-11-18T23:00:00.000-05:00

We had an excellent meal of Thai food and even better company at the home of Cameron and Jenelle Lemons along with their two young boys.

This picture just does not capture the essence

2006-11-13T20:34:00.000-05:00

The rainy day should have stifled my spirit and disengaged my enthusiasm. However the rain had not yet started and a thick fog was lifting all around creating a visibility of but a few hundred feet. I wanted to simply give up my studies and walk amongst the trees and absorb the beauty forever like that of a childhood memory immediately recalled upon a wafting smell. I felt as though there were an entirely new world seeping through the mist that I had yet to discover. Adventure, mystery, excitement, splendor.

A Few Pictures from Youth Group

2006-11-12T21:00:00.000-05:00

Every Sunday evening I have the pleasure of working with the youth ministry at Christ Church. The evening is always full of energy and crazy games as well as music and teaching.

Chasing after the Books

2006-11-11T19:24:00.000-05:00

I woke up at 5:30 today to join Joe, a fellow seminarian and Jeff, an engineering student to alight, along with hundreds of others upon the semi-annual CBD (Christian Book Distributors) sale. The company is predominately an online retailer, but every so often they have a sale to pass on their damaged books and such to the locals, so us poor seminarians love the opportunity. We stood in line outside the building and then entered into this massive warehouse with thousands of books laid out across table after table after table. Here we are below with our boxes full of “finds.”

Beauty in the Garden

2006-11-10T17:47:00.000-05:00

Another day in the garden. Hour after hour. Though the work is tiring, the sights are often full of delights for the eyes.

I could not help but post once more the beautiful view that engulfs me each day I arrive at work.

Cameron Lemons, a fellow seminarian, husband and the father of two young boys. I highly respect him as a thoughtful and passionate friend and enjoy working with him in the garden. Though he will be graduating soon and leaving with his family to return to California, it is my hope that this short time God has given us as friends will not be the last and that perhaps we will once again walk the same path.

Fall colors, this late into the season? Do not the colors simply mesmerize you?

Working in the Garden

2006-11-09T18:27:00.000-05:00

A couple of days a week I motor up this winding drive and work alongside the birds, the grasses, trees and flowers at Spike and Libby Thorne's--a well to do couple who have been a rich blessing in my life by allowing me a secure place of employment working in their garden and on their property.

Here I am (with Alex in the background) hard at work attempting to pick up the seemingly endless leaves that I spent nine hours picking up today. Where do I work? I work for Spike and Libby Thorne, an older couple who value a well taken care of lawn and garden.

This is my friend Alex, hauling our "leaf vacuum." He and I often work together and I thoroughly enjoy his company. He is a great conversationalist and extremely intelligent. The man amazes me: as a husband and father of three young boys, one of whom is autistic, he still finds time to take classes at the seminary and work an incredibly amount of hours to support his family.

Fortunately, the place comes equipped with a beautiful view of which the sun often compliments late into the evening--one of the pleasures of life.

Credibility of the Gospels

2006-11-08T20:59:00.000-05:00

The Meaning of Jesus, a chapter by chapter dialog between two well respected scholars. Borg understands a majority of the gospels to be taken metaphorically, unlike Wright who holds to the orthodox conservative position of understanding the gospels as historical narratives. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book, much more than the one above. If you would like to read from some of the best and yet easily followed debates concerning the Jesus Christ, the Son of God and whether or not what is written about in the gospels can be trusted as truth, this is your book.

Friend's for Dinner

2006-11-07T20:40:00.000-05:00

We had a lot of fun with Brian and Jackie Barry, who joined us for dinner at our place. Brian is finishing his first year at the seminary and would like to become an Anglican priest, though he is currently working in a CMA (Christian Missionary Alliance) Church as the youth pastor. His wife works at Starbucks and as an assistant kindergarten teacher.

October - A Month in the Life of a Seminarian

2006-11-04T14:59:00.000-05:00

Greetings from quickly cooling Massachusetts. This past weekend was one of tempestuous winds and driving rains, otherwise known to the good folks in New England as a Nor’easter. You should have seen the look on Melissa's face when the wind mangled into a creation of modern art the umbrella she had purchased within the last hour. It was a sorrowful experience.

This month has been an array of ancient language exams, sermons and papers, but somehow I am still alive. I preached at Christ Church a couple of times, the first of which was on proper 22, Jesus teaching on divorce (Mark 10:2-9). I thought the gospel reading looked challenging and was a subject toward which I feel strongly and an issue which touches the lives of so many, both those who are directly involved as well as family members and friends. However, as I further prepared the sermon I began to feel somewhat fearful with the thought of preaching the conviction of biblical truth yet communicating love to those in the pews who have been or are currently in the midst of divorce. When the day arrived, I sat in the pew as the service drew closer to the sermon and felt terrified—not nervous but terrified. Like the time when I was on a mission trip to the country of Panama and we went swimming with naked Indian kids who were jumping off of thirty, forty and fifty foot cliffs into the water. I remember thinking to myself, if these seven and eight year old kids can do this surely I who am triple their age can take this challenge. I remember feeling a rush of terror as I looked over the cliff and backed away and then suddenly, in a surge wild foolishness ran over the edge and was sucked down through the air and swallowed by the water below. So it was with this preaching engagement. Though I had preached multiple times in the past, never before had I preached on a subject that could seemingly be this controversial or even hurtful. After all, who am I, this young kid who has been married not even two years, to speak on such a great and ancient truth as the sacrament of marriage? However I made it through (go hear to read the sermon: http://philipmayer.blogspot.com/2006/10/divorce.html) and Father Jürgen actually said I did well. Two weeks later I preached again, but this time with no notes whatsoever. In the days before I had written out my sermon and practiced multiple times until I felt I could complete the talk without notes. I felt much better when I stood to preach this time and by the second service I was even able to think on my feet and was beginning to feel a hint of confidence in my speaking ability. After the service I felt that I had conquered. The road to note-less speaking was no longer wobbling like a rope bridge on a child’s playground, but has begun to steady as I progress to the other side.

Youth ministry has been moving steadily forward. Our fall retreat took place without any problems and this past Sunday we went to St. Peters Episcopal Church in Beverly to assist with their weekly soup kitchen and it was a great time with the students.

One of the biggest things that I miss at the seminary is being in a tight-knit group of men who challenge one another and are there for one another during difficult times. I spoke with an acquaintance about this longing and he agreed and then went on to tell of a group that he was involved with at his undergraduate college. Each week they would meet for lunch and then go off and climb up into this old abandoned tunnel. There they would sit in silence until everyone arrived at which point they would pray for one another and through this bonding they became very close. I thought it sounded like an excellent idea and said that we should go for it. We prayed together for God’s leading and then agreed to meet every Tuesday for lunch and prayer. I began talking to some of my other friends on campus and on Tuesday six of us got together for lunch and then we went outside and using the form for Noonday Prayer, prayed for one another. It was great! I am very excited about continuing this group.

Life at the “Mill Street House” is also going well. For those of you who did not know, a few months ago Melissa and I moved into a neo monastic community a few months ago. Mother Beth, one of our former priests at Christ Church and her husband spent a year traveling the globe and visiting intentional Christian communities, both para-church organizations and monasteries here in the states, in Europe and Africa. In following God’s leading they returned to the states and purchased a triple decker house in the worst neighborhood in the city with the intention of building relationships and reaching out to the many poor and rejected people living in the neighborhood. Melissa and I were completely sold on the vision for the house and after much prayer and seeking counsel, we moved into the third floor of the house. Now every morning at seven we gather together in the chapel with the other folks that life here for Morning Prayer and then again then night at ten for Compline. Once a week we have a meal together as a house. We are thoroughly enjoying the experience.

A Day in the Park

2006-10-22T21:21:00.000-04:00

Hiking in New York

2006-10-22T21:09:00.000-04:00

During labor day weekend we were able to go hiking in this park in the state of New York. Is not it beautiful?

Bishop Thomas Shaw of the diocese of Massachusetts

2006-10-22T21:02:00.000-04:00

Here I am along with the bishop of Massachusetts, Thomas Shaw. He is a wonderful man with a very humble spirit. His true heart's desire is to see the church come together in love and unity. Theologically we have some strong disagreements, such as our view of Scripture and more specifically, homosexuality-one of the difficulties of the church here in the west.

2006-10-22T20:59:00.000-04:00

Here is Melissa and I, along with our priest, Father Jürgen Liias. He as a wonderful Christian and mentor and has helped me tremendously as I attempt to follow God's leading toward holy orders. He is also one of the best preachers here in the northeast. I admire him greatly.

2006-10-22T20:52:00.000-04:00

Here is Melissa and I at Russel Orchards. We visited the farm over the weekend to enjoy the fall weather, a hay-ride and of course, hot cider and donuts.

Divorce

2006-10-11T14:09:00.000-04:00

Divorce is a difficult subject. The word probably brings strong feelings into each of our lives. My aunt, right now is going through divorce and it is emotionally very difficult for me to watch. In preparing to speak to you today I have spoken with a variety of different people concerning divorce and was quickly reminded how opinionated the subject can be.Circumstances were not much different during Jesus day. It was nearing the time for Passover and there would have been great crowds around Jesus when the Pharisees decided that they would attempt to discredit and further than that, destroy Jesus by asking him about divorce. You see despite the prophet Malichi’s proclamation that God hated divorce, like in our culture, divorce was quite common. There were two influential teachers, according to the Mishnah, over the word, “davar aroth,” which Moses wrote in the law as reason for divorce. One teacher taught that the word meant adultery. You could only divorce your wife because of adultery. However, the other, much more popular teacher taught that you could divorce your wife for any reason—if she burnt your supper or if you found another more beautiful than her.

From the framing of this passage, it seems that Pharisees had thought long and hard about this question and they knew exactly where Jesus stood on the matter for he had spoken of these things before. They also knew that Jesus cousin, John the Baptist had recently been thrown into prison and eventually beheaded for preaching about matters surrounding divorce in this same region—surely their hopes were that through their question Jesus would find himself in the same situation.

When Jesus was asked this question about divorce, instead of becoming involved in an argument over the interpretation of the Mosaic law, he took them back to the very beginning when the sacrament of marriage was instituted by God to show to them God’s purpose for marriage and he said:

“From the beginning of creation, 'God made them male and female.' 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate."

No Option

Tertullian, one of the early Church fathers taught from this passage that when God created the first male and female, he created them in relationship without option. God did not have to create just two people so? He could have created six or seven or eight. He could have created Adam and Eve, and Jill, and Sally, and Patty, and said, “Well Adam if it doesn’t work out with Eve, here are these other ladies from which to choose.” No! There was no one else on the planet to which Adam could go. Eve was his only option! Adam was Eve’s only option. It is clear from creation, from the very beginning that God intended marriage to be a non-optional, non-dissolvable union.

One Flesh

Jesus also taught from Holy Scripture that two would come together and become one flesh, “no longer two, but one flesh.” When two people physically come together in the consummate act of marriage there is some type of mystical connection that takes place—a sacramental act of God, whether Christian or non-Christian. The Apostle Paul cited this same verse and wrote, “He who is joined to a prostitute becomes one body with her.” Even when non-believers get divorced they are ripping apart something that God had put together. Perhaps this is what Jesus was saying: “what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

An Un-encouraged Exception

However, as you know in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus says that God allows adultery as reason for divorce. Yet, I would urge that we follow the biblical example of marriage by going to the utmost lengths possible to show forgiveness and make every attempt possible to heal broken relationships no matter what the trouble. God himself remained in his marriage relationship with the adulterous Israel for seven hundred years, according to the prophet Jeremiah before issuing her a divorce. And yet even when Israel had turned completely away do you think God gave up? Never. He still urged, “Return, faithless Israel, I will not look on you in anger, for I am merciful.” He was willing to go the distance and do whatever it took to win back his people even though they failed him again and again.

Application/Conclusion

Divorce is a very difficult thing. I do not claim to have all of the answers. As I mentioned before my aunt right now is going through a divorce. She and her husband were married before I was born and I watched them together my entire life. I loved both of them and spent many days at their house playing with my cousins as a child. I have many great memories of holiday celebrations, birthdays and camping together. I never gave a second thought to their marriage. To me as a kid and on into my adult years it was something that always was and always would be. When I received news that my aunt had moved out of the house into an apartment because of hurtful difficulties within the relationship I was shocked and I did not know what to think. I felt as though my heart were ripping apart and I was not even the one getting the divorce. It is a very difficult and complicated situation. Had I been a pastor involved in the situation I too would have counseled her to separate until these dire problems in the relationship were taken care of. Today, even as the marriage seems to be hurderling closer than ever to divorce I still pray that healing would take place.

All of us are affected by divorce whether it is in the relationship of someone that we know or maybe in our own lives. May we be reminded that God is a loving and merciful God—one who understands the pain of broken relationships in a far more severe way than you or I ever will. We serve a God who loves those who have been through this horrible experience.

Perhaps you have an excellent marriage or maybe you are having difficulty in your relationship. I would urge you to go the distance, giving the relationship all that you have—following the example that Christ gave, “Husbands, love you wives as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” Go the distance and be willing to give up your life.

In our marriages may we for better, for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, worship Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—the one almighty God. To him belongs all glory and honor forever and ever. Amen.

The Laughable Gospel of Judas

2006-04-18T10:31:00.000-04:00

After hearing all of the hype on the Gospel of Judas and how this new information was going to change what was thought to be the truth of Christianity I decided to go to the website of the Discovery Channels, who is promoting the document, download it and read it for myself (the pdf file is only eight pages long and I would encourage you to check it out). It's rather funny to read. It begins by saying "The secret account of the revelation that Jesus spoke in conversation with Judas Iscariot." That's an awfully odd start to a book. If this was the truth, why would it need to be secret?

The author then goes on to say that Jesus "began to speak with them about the mysteries beyond the world and what would take place at the end. Often he did not appear to his disciples as himself, but he was found among them as a child." What does he mean by that? Did Jesus morph into a child and then back into an adult again? Was he some sort of image changer? It sounds like an X-Men spoof or something.

The author of this gospel then goes on to describe a conversation between Jesus and his disciples in which Jesus laughs at the disciples prayer and then they become infuriated with Jesus. Everyone is afraid to speak to him except Judas (apparently the great hero of the story) who turns to him and says "I know who you are and where you have come from. You are from the immortal realm of Barbelo." I almost laughed when I read that. It sounds like some kind of sci-fi talk doesn't it?

Later in the book Jesus goes on to explain to Judas about Cosmology in which he describes Self-Generating Angels which came into being and who go on to create other angels. I quote: "He said, ‘[Let] an enlightened aeon come into being,’ and he came into being. He created the second luminary [to] reign over him, together with myriads of angels without number, to offer service. That is how he created the rest of the enlightened aeons." From there he describes the creation of man with these words "Then Saklas said to his angels, ‘Let us create a human being after the likeness and after the image.’ They fashioned Adam and his wife Eve, who is called, in the cloud, Zoe."

The book ends with Jesus talking with Judas about his betrayal by saying "Truly [I] say to you, Judas, [those who] offer sacrifices to Saklas [here the document is missing some lines] . . . But you will exceed all of them." And so it ends with Judas somehow being the hero. Interesting how the one dark character becomes the great one at the end.

I completely understand why the Gospel of Judas was condemned by Bishop Irenaeus during the second century as heresy. This gospel is very difficult to take seriously. I laughed while reading it. All of the hype is just a great marketing tactic that the Discovery channel has successfully used as free advertising to promote its special on Judas’ Gospel. That's all. There are lots of books like this out there: The Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Peter and a bunch of other gibberish that wasn't included in the Bible for obvious reasons.

Arrival in Massachusetts

2005-08-19T14:13:00.000-04:00

We've made it safely to Massachusetts. As you know we'll be here for the next three years studying at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary. It's an academically rigorous school, but we're excited about beginning our studies this September. The twenty four hour trip from Florida was tiring, but we're happy to have arrived in this beautiful state without any mishaps. Bob and Myrna, the older couple from whom we're renting, are very kind. We trooped up the steps and opened the door of our one bedroom apartment and upon the counter was a basket full of snacks and small gifts: a chocolate lobster, coffee and tea. That along with the food we discovered in the fridge made us feel very welcome. Bob and Myrna are a blessing from God.

Over the past few weeks we've been busy meeting new friends and settling into our apartment. During the previous Saturday, Melissa and I found a couch for five dollars while visiting garage sales. The lady said that it sat down in her basement and was never really used, but it had some stains and a few small tears so we went off to Wal-Mart and spent Sunday pinning new fabric to the loveseat. The now earthy green sofa looks great sitting in our living room and it's much better to relax in a well stuffed couch then our "other" living room furniture (folding chairs).

We also have jobs! After creating many resumes, making phone calls, searching and filling out applications, Melissa and I will begin training for our new jobs on Monday. We'll be working for a photography studio, going into schools and photographing children for their year books and student I.D. pictures. It's only a seasonal job, but it will last into December. It will also allow us to own only one car, instead of two, creating one less insurance payment.

A Weekend with Sam Skeene

2005-07-25T13:32:00.000-04:00

Before leaving Florida I had a fun weekend in Georgia with Sam Skeene, a good college friend. We hadn’t seen each other since my wedding in April of that same year. We have always been delightful friends. Sam is continually encouraging those around him and is an inspiration to all. After finding an anonymous picture of a young high school student with the words “TJ changed my life because he believed in me. Summer 2022,” Sam decided to be TJ; he decided to believe in everyone that he met. Anyone who is around Sam will tell you that this is true.

Upon our arrival, we ate lunch at a coffee shop, went grocery shopping for the weekend and then while Ben slept, Sam and I talked long until two in the morning about life and marriage. It was a splendid evening, probably the best that I have ever spent with Sam. From a box marked “Sam’s special things” he began withdrawing concert tickets, pictures, journal entries-each with a life shaping story attached allowing.

With his face alight, Sam begins telling the greatest stories ever heard. Sam has shaped and crafted his ability to communicate in story as far back as I can remember and has the ability to intrigue all within listening distance. He journals, culls stories from these writings, refines and tells them over and over. He is like a great magician or showman who refines and develops his best and brightest presentations. As an art, storytelling will surely serve him well.

It was a fine weekend.

2005-06-10T15:30:00.000-04:00

Surrounded by their families, David Miller takes my sister, Alayna Mayer, to be his bride on the afternoon of June 10, 2005

2005-06-10T15:29:00.000-04:00

A moment of prayer.

2005-06-10T15:27:00.000-04:00

Alayna's mother and father love her very much.

2005-06-10T15:26:00.000-04:00

The wedding party.

2005-06-10T15:25:00.000-04:00

Now that is a kiss.

Wedding

2005-03-09T19:58:00.000-05:00

The wedding is coming soon and the "to do's" are climbing upon one another and forming what looks like an impenetrable wall. Honeymoon planning, suit fitting, travel, family and future are all coming together. Come and check out our wedding website and do not forget to read about our vision found in the future section of the website.

http://www.philipandmelissamayer.com

Sermon

2005-01-02T13:38:00.001-05:00

I stood silently before the sea of white haired listeners before beginning my sermon. Deadly still, they sat as if capsulated in time. I carefully arranged my notes and begin my sermon for the 204 listeners at Southern Charm Retirement Community. They laughed at my story at the beginning of my talk. Everyone was very friendly and relaxed. Did they know what was about to challenge their thinking?

I spoke on judging and love. Jesus teaching on judging is misunderstood and taken out of context by most, used instead as a shield against harsh comments by critics. Contrary to popular belief, Jesus taught in Matthew seven that we should be good judges, I explained. The main thrust of my sermon was taken from Paul’s teaching in Romans 14. There he writes that Christians should love and focus on the weightier teachings of scripture instead of focusing on disputable matters of which the Bible does not focus. The talk went well, though it reminded me of my need to drastically improve my public speaking ability.

Memories of Christmas with the Family

2004-12-24T20:08:00.000-05:00

I miss my family. I miss running around through snow covered fields and rows of trees while we pick out the perfect evergreen. I miss feeling the snow fall down the back of my shirt as I saw away at the base of a shaking tree. I miss dodging snowballs thrown by kids dodging in and out of the trees while we drag our living room centerpiece back to the trailer.

I miss diving into the sled and yelling for that little kid to get out of the way, lest he is launched into the air by a piece of racing plastic supporting too many bodies. I miss feeling the air slice by my head, turning my ears and nose bright red as I race my brother down the hill and then quickly tumble out of the sled just in time to avoid the creek at the bottom of the hill. I miss coming home and stripping off layers of coats, sweaters, shirts and socks and then sipping eggnog and hot chocolate and talking to other rosy cheeked smiling faces.

I miss the Christmas carols and long rides through the country side eyeing glittering houses and standing face to face with giant nut-crackers, Santa Clauses and snow men. I miss trying to remember the words that form each of the twelve days of Christmas with my brothers and sisters. I miss the beautifully decorated table, the food and the four candles of advent that now stand at staggered heights while we eat and laugh and open the one little present that sits beside each of our plates.

I miss the soft glow of the Christmas tree decorated with a hodgepodge of ornaments and multi-colored lights. I miss early Christmas mornings when it seems that dad is taking a very, very long time to read the Christmas story. I miss the kids and presents and piles of wrapping paper spread all over the living room, making it nearly impossible to navigate without tripping.

I miss my family at Christmas.

My Commencement Ceremony

2004-12-11T13:22:00.000-05:00

Our speaker was terrible. Just when we thought he was going to return to his subject and address to us as students, he would turn to our college president and make a joke about giving his granddaughter a sports scholarship so that she could attend the school or he would start speaking about the destructiveness of homosexual marriage. I remember the Canadian speaker saying, “But you Americans didn’t help the ordinance of marriage any when your Episcopal Church began ordaining homosexuals.” When he continued to speaking for nearly an hour I considered standing up and throwing my graduation cap at him, but I assumed that I would probably miss, so I amused myself with the fun little tassels at the end of the honor cords hanging around my neck. I have been to many Southeastern graduations and heard many speakers, but this one was the worst.

Finally he finished and the degree candidates began to walk across the stage. “Would the candidates for the department of religion please stand and approach the platform,” Dr. Herron, the dean of students, said. I rose and followed the black gown and cap in front of me. The line of students between me and the stage dwindled as I drew near the top of the steps. It was now my turn to take the walk that I had so excitedly watched hundreds of former students complete. What happened next seemed to take a very long time. Dr. Herron began speaking. “Philip Mayer,” pause, “summa cum laude,” pause and then finally “four point-o.” As he finished speaking I began walking. Out I looked over the sea of faces. I do not remember any sounds or feelings or walking across the stage, but suddenly, I had reached our president, Dr. Mark Rutland, grasped his hand and held onto the diploma he had just handed me while trying to smile for the flashing camera. That was it. I walked back to my seat and moved my tassel from the right side of my hat to the left. Then, out of the speakers came, “Ladies and gentleman, I present to you the baccalaureate class of 2004.” Someone was grabbing my hand and congratulating me. All of the graduates were patting backs, smiling and were full of happiness. We had finished.

Working at the Sheriff's Office

2004-12-08T14:10:00.000-05:00

There I sit each working day, in my navy green pants and pristinely ironed white shirt, a badge on each shoulder and a silver star on my chest. Two computer screens stare, steadily back at me and like those awful ear muffs we wore as kids, a headset sits aloft my hair.

“Polk County Sheriff's Office, this is Philip speaking” –words I hear myself say many times each day.

The hurried voice of a female caller says, “Hello, is this the Sheriff’s Office? I’ve been raped.”

“You’ve been raped?” I ask, wanting to make sure that I have heard her correctly.

“Yes” she says. You can hear fear in her voice.

“Where are you at?”

“I’m calling from a payphone. I was going to the grocery store when these three Mexicans grabbed me and dragged me back to a trailer. . .”

“Is it safe there? Can you go back into the grocery store?” I ask.

“Into the grocery store! That’s where they got me. Listen, I’m hurting and I think that they’re coming back I gotta go.”

“Click”

There was nothing we could do. We had no idea where she was calling from.

Most of the calls are not so startling: “My neighbors won’t turn their music down and my baby can’t sleep.” A couple of weeks ago a man called in and said, “There’s a guy across the street from me who’s working on a car and he’s only wearing a thong. Could you send a deputy over here?” So is life working in the telecommunications center at the Sheriff’s Office.

A Home for Melissa

2004-12-06T16:12:00.000-05:00

Thanks so much for all of your prayers for my fiancée. Melissa will not be homeless after all. Melissa had explained to a friend of hers at work, the awkward position in which she and Meagan had found themselves and after going home and talking with her husband about the situation, they generously offered to rent to Melissa and Meagan the upstairs half of their home for the next four months. Melissa says that “I am amazed and blessed over and over again for the goodness and faithfulness of God in my life . . . God Bless and have a wonderful holiday season!”

The Final Undergraduate Struggle

2004-12-02T15:29:00.000-05:00

The clench of Southeastern College is beginning to grip tighter around me as the school work that I must finish before Wednesday becomes ever the more prominent in my life. I was able to persuade one of my professors to cancel a ten to twelve page research paper; which, as I am sure you can imagine, took some amount of premeditated convincing. That lightened the weight slightly and I now have only two exams, a sermon to write and a couple of lengthy papers to complete before I slip on the hat and gown and join the processional on Saturday, December 11. Over the next few days I will be plugging away at the books as I attempt to complete the final leg of my race here at Southeastern College.

An Experience with the Episcopal Church

2004-11-28T14:40:00.000-05:00

I have had the most interesting experience at All Saints Episcopal Church. My visits have changed the way that I understand tradition and worship. Sensual is probably the best word to describe the service built and designed from centuries of carefully crafted symbolic worship. As you know I have grown up in the Pentecostal Church, a young denomination not yet one hundred years old. Unlike the Episcopal Church, the Pentecostal church chose to throw off years of learning and church tradition and start anew. Some of the buildings are built well and glorify God with their beauty, but most are built plain and simple as is the church service and worship.

As I walked into the historic Episcopal Church building, which was built in the late eighteen hundreds, and looked around, I noticed high arching ceilings, intricately carved beams and beautifully stained glass, each colorfully arranged window a story in itself. At exactly nine o’clock the bell rang, the organ filled each space in the church and the ceremonial processional began. First came a young white robbed child holding a seven foot staff with a cross on top, walking slowly up the isle from the back of the church. Following her were two more robbed children each holding lit candles. Behind them were others, singers, more cross holders, one taller individual holding a golden plated Bible with reverence high above his head and last came the priest, step by step, patiently walking toward the front of the church and then seating himself inauspiciously next to the organ. The service had begun and an atmosphere of high worship and mystery had overtaken us all.

I say sensual because each of my senses were involved in the worship. I was reminded of God’s majesty as I looked around and took in the beauty of the sanctuary and the symbolic architecture. A throng of voices simultaneously read prayers of confession and attrition from the Book of Common Prayer. Everyone was now exiting the pews, bowing and then walking toward the front of the church. I awkwardly stepped out, bowed and followed. At the front of the church I knelt and held out my hands to receive the communion bread. “The body and blood of Christ” said the priest as I took the bread and tasted the wine, which left a slight burning feeling in my stomach. I stood up and walked through the prayer chapel filled with the air of fragrant incense and sat down back at my seat. Such depth of worship! Each movement, each symbol, each sound, touch, taste and prayer purposefully designed to glorify God. The experience reminded me of his greatness, his beauty, his mystery.

How can there be an advance in worship without tradition and Christian heritage? Technology is advanced because it is built upon the work of past generations, yet we have thrown aside the traditions of the church saying that they are old, stale and no longer of value, yet by tossing aside our heritage we are tossing aside a worship life of profound, tested spiritual substance. Tradition has become old and stale because we have failed to educate worshipers of the vibrancy of renewed worship rooted in the heritage of faith. We have forgotten to teach people what is happening and why. There is nothing wrong with new styles and means of worship, but they should be built and tempered upon a foundation of hundreds of years of worship practice. I highly encourage you to experience other forms of worship. Being raised as a good Pentecostal kid, I never would have thought of entering into the high church worship style of the Church of England or of a catholic church. I looked down on other denominations. Visiting these other brothers and sisters has expanded my vision and helped me to understand the traditions that have been refined with each service, each year, each century and passed down from generation to generation that we might be reminded of the greatness and mystery of God.

Melissa's Living Situation

2004-11-27T09:07:00.000-05:00

Melissa, my fiancée, is in a difficult spot right now. After December tenth she will have a place to live. Currently she is living at the Teen Challenge facility where she has been working for the past year. When she turned in her resignation letter to Teen Challenge her immediate future was well planned. She and two friends had applied to take up residence at Emerald Run Apartments. Melissa and Meagan were going to be living in one of the rooms of the apartment and together were going to be splitting half of the rent. Her other friend was going to occupy the second room and pay for the other half of the rent and then cover the entire rent of the seven month lease when Melissa and Meagan planned on moving out in May, but suddenly some adverse situations arose in this other friend’s life and she will be unable to rent along with Meagan and Melissa.

So, now Melissa is in a very difficult situation. She could move back to St. Cloud to live with her mother, but she promised her employer at Southeastern College that she would be working there until at least next summer. Should she go back on her word, she will lose her good name. Also, we will be getting married in April and so if she does move back to St. Cloud she will only be there for a few months before moving back to Lakeland to be with me, making a job situation very difficult because of the short amounts of time. Melissa wrote in an email she and Meagan

are looking for either someone with an apartment that may be looking for a roommate (or two) for the next four months or for someone who may have an extra room in their home that they wouldn't mind renting out to one or two young ladies. If you know of anyone who may be able to help us out, please call (321-287-3374) or email me Mmelissamary@gmail.com). I know that God is going to open up an opportunity for us and I thank you for all your prayers and support.

It is a rather confusing situation, but if you would, please pray that she and Meagan will quickly find a place (or places) to stay that will be within their limited budgets. I am sure that God will provide.

Thanksgiving with a Romantic

2004-11-26T20:10:00.000-05:00

We pulled up in the driveway, got out of the car and began walking toward her mother’s empty house, when suddenly she turned to face me and while touching me gently she said, “Wait here.” I immediately remembered a few words that she had said earlier that morning while we were going to her dad’s house, sitting in the back seat of her sister’s car: “I have a surprise for you.” So, there I was standing in the driveway of my future mother-in-law’s house, trying to figure out what it was that Melissa, my fiancée, was doing inside.

“Maybe she bought a new outfit or a dress for a special occasion. That seems odd. Hmm, I never noticed before that this carport has a wood paneled ceiling.”

My mind had begun to wander as I looked up at the darkening sky and then down at the ground where tiny ants were systematically going about their work as I listened to the sounds coming from inside the house: quick footsteps going back and forth and a kitchen drawer opening and then closing.

I was not feeling so well. I am sure that you felt the same on Thursday. We had just come back from Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends. There were about fifteen people there and try as we might, one could hardly tell that we had decreased the size of the generous piles, plates and dishes of food that had been prepared—enough for at least fifty hearty eaters. I was beginning to feel the rolls, deep fried turkey, blackberry pie and brownies that had settled themselves somewhat uncomfortably into my crowded stomach.

The lights inside the house became dark. Having finished whatever it was that she was doing, Melissa now stood at the door and said, “You can come in.” I followed her into the house. She stopped and pushed a button on a boom box and Nat King Cole’s voice followed us into the front room where the Christmas tree glowed and lit candles scattered light about the room.

“Would you like to dance?” Melissa asked.

“Sure,” I said as we drew close together. I started to laugh. I do not know exactly why. I was surprised at the experience that she had so carefully created.

“Are you laughing at me?” she said.

“No, I’m just happy, happy that you would think about me; happy that you would do this for me,” I answered.

We danced.

Suddenly, the door swung open and her cousin came trotting in carrying some folding chairs. Embarrassed, we quickly let go of one another, turned off Nat King Cole and blew out the candles.

“I’m sorry” Melissa said.

“It’s okay,” I replied.

We finished helping her cousin unload the chairs. He left and we re-lit the candles, turned off the lights and turned on Mr. Cole.

We danced. We looked into each others eyes. We sat down on the couch. We drank fruit cool-aid out of wine glasses and talked about how thankful we were for each other. Soon everyone began returning home and our time was finished.

I am thankful for Melissa. I am thankful for her thoughtfulness, for her love and for a few romantic moments at the end of a Thanksgiving Day.

A Life Plan

2004-11-23T13:30:00.000-05:00

I am very excited about my future together with Melissa. All of the pieces are finally beginning to come together in an understandable shape. I have often felt that my interests were broad and disconnected, but I believe that I am beginning to see why God has shaped me with tendencies toward youth ministry, adventure, theology, world travel, business, missions, leadership, church planting and teaching.

When I first began to realize that I was supposed to go into ministry I was sure that it was youth ministry so I began working hard along with the community church as a youth leader doing youth events, outreaches and fundraising, once for over $6,000 to take fifty youth to a national Teen Mania youth retreat in Indiana.

Lately I have become extremely interested in theology and philosophy. These subjects, though difficult enter into, are extremely intriguing so much so that men and women have dedicated their entire lives to these pursuits. Is it possible to answer questions of free will and evil?
So how does all of that fit in with my adventurous streak? I remember as a young kid, the thrill of jumping on my bike or tromping through deep woods exploring places I had never been. I was always trying to get someone to go with me on my wilderness adventurous. I pulled along brothers and sisters, friends and sometimes my dog and together we would climb hills and jump logs, pole vault over streams and climb trees.

Before coming here to Southeastern College my main goal in life was to become a great leader. I remember sitting on my bed and looking through my brother’s books and noticing one that said The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership. I asked my brother about it and soon my journey into the world of leadership commenced. I have always wanted to be a leader. I as a kid I recruited younger siblings as well as the neighborhood kids to play soccer, kickball and basketball or to go on adventures to the sandpit. I remember specifically choosing to be the goalie at a church soccer game so that I could see the big picture and yell out commands and encouragements to my team mates. I remember trying to be the team leader and I also remember that no one listened to me. I did not know much about influence back then.

Here at Southeastern College I was sitting in class about a year ago when the Dr. Hackett asked, “Where are my future church planters?” I thought about it for a moment and then tossed up my hand. That was the first time I had ever considered it. Melissa, my fiancée is also incredibly ambitious, loves to travel and is great with people. What are we to do with all of these gifts and desires?

Yesterday I had an epiphany. I believe that I am beginning to see how all of the pieces are to fit. I believe that Melissa and I have been given all of these desires so that God willing, we might be prepared to train and mentor indigenous pastors on the mission field. So, within the next five to six years we will be studying for masters degrees while working as youth pastors. By the time that we turn thirty, we would like to be pastoring a growing church and then planting a church during our forties. At age fifty we will begin preparations to move oversees to help establish and plant an indigenous church. Then by the time that we are in our mid sixties will be raising up and training native pastors in church starved countries. Although there are many things to do, I am excited about what God has planned for our lives as we commit to spreading his fame throughout the earth.

My Grandfather is Dying

2004-11-15T13:16:00.000-05:00

My mom emailed me today and said that from time to time over the past several months Grandpa has had episodes of lightness and heaviness in his chest. These incidents were not painful, but uncomfortable. He has been experiencing symptoms of indigestion occasionally as well, which can be attributed to his heart. It is Grandpa’s wish that there be no medical intervention if he does have any further health problems and as hard as it is to stand by and watch someone suffer, Grandma has promised him that she will honor his request and will only call in re-enforcements if he asks for the help.

Grandpa attends a very small church someplace in Saginaw, Michigan when he feels able to go and the weather safely permits him to do so. When my mom visited with him yesterday afternoon (at home) he said that he was feeling fine when he went to church. He was burdened for his family and just before the pastor was to begin to speak he interrupted the order of the service and asked that they all (about 10 members) pray for his family. He said that he began to share his request and got excited and started to shout (you all may never have really seen him in action, but he can 'really' stomp and shout). The congregation prayed with him and service proceeded. He said it was then that he began to feel the chest pain. He waited until service was done and asked for prayer, telling them that he was having chest pains. Those people were not very smart! They had him come up to the front and stand while they prayed for him. As is typical with a heart attack, he broke out in a cold sweat, felt very weak and had to sit down. They offered him a cold drink of water, thinking it would help which he drank and then promptly threw up. All of these experiences and symptoms are strong indications of a heart attack. They offered to drive him home, but he refused and drove himself home (a very foolish thing to do).

When my mom visited him in the afternoon yesterday he was resting when she arrived, but then said he was feeling much better - no more heaviness or pain, and got up and had coffee with us. My mom remarked that she believes Grandpa will be eighty-three years of age on January 19, 2005 and she says,

God has given him a long life and we do not know what the future holds. Neither he nor Grandma are in the best of health and there is no way for us to know how long they will be with us. Their children and their grandchildren are the pride of their life. They love nothing more than to brag on their family. They love to talk about the accomplishments of their grandchildren, where they are, who they are marrying, what they're doing, and of course, how many they have twenty-seven at last count with a great grandchild on the way.

Please pray that all will be peaceful. Thanks

Differences Between Churches are Dying

2004-11-13T17:07:00.000-05:00

Today I went with Melissa to meet with the Episcopal Diocese concerning a large youth event (600 plus kids) at which Melissa will be speaking. As you know, I grew up as a good Pentecostal kid and I always thought that there were major differences between The Church of England (Episcopal is a split off of the catholic church), but I am having trouble finding those ‘major’ differences. As we opened up the leadership and brainstorming meeting, we sang the song “Hungry” and prayed and then spoke about how we could more effectively reach more kids in the Orlando area. I have been to many leadership planning meetings within other churches (non Episcopal) and I could not see any difference between those meetings and this one! Ninety percent of what churches talk about and do is the same as ninety percent of what other churches do. Doctrinal differences such as prayer languages and views of the sacraments are things that are rarely taught or mentioned in the Church and yet we have allowed these things to tear us apart and weaken us. How far we have fallen from Paul’s urging in Romans: do not pass “judgment on disputable matters” (14:1), but instead “make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification” (v. 19).

You just watch. Denominationalism is on its way out. The church in America is coming back together.

The Church Denounces War in Iraqi

2004-11-12T16:30:00.000-05:00

When the war in Iraqi first began I was in full support of Bush’s decision to go and “protect” our country, but as I found out more and more information concerning the war I am beginning to see a side that has previously been invisible to me. From what I understand every mainline church has spoken against Bush’s decision to go to war according to the Orlando Sentinel.

There has been a tremendous loss of life according to the Lancet Medical Journal which concluded that 100,000 civilians died in the US-led invasion of Iraq, most of which were woman and children. Even worse the U.S. military refuses all responsibility. Gen. Tommy Franks could not have been more direct: "We don’t do body counts."

After doing some reading I discovered that Fuller Theological Seminary professors have signed a statement speaking of the "grave moral crisis” in America, and are signing a statement opposing President Bush's alleged convergence of God, church and nation and what they call his "theology of war.” In Bush's 2002 State of the Union address the president labeled Iran, Iraq and North Korea the "axis of evil,” Stassen said "Calling the three nations the 'axis of evil' and refusing to acknowledge any errors that he has made, that sets up a dichotomy between righteous United States and unrighteous 'axis of evil.’ [This] leads to a crusade in which Christians think the Christian thing to do is support war-making against an allegedly unrighteous enemy.”

I also discovered that other sources say, “Iraq is no threat to the U.S.” Bishop Gumbleton describes a land that was already in great turmoil after its eight-year war with Iran (1980-88). Now, after the Gulf War (1990-1991), “once-prosperous people beg openly on the streets. Plumbing, electricity, transportation, business and employment: All the systems necessary to a modern nation are held together with baling wire and even that is in short supply.” I could hardly believe my eyes when I discovered that according to the UNICEF (United Nations), “5,000 Iraqi children a month die from diarrhea, pneumonia, breathing problems and malnutrition as a result of the economic sanctions. Iraq has been allowed to sell $5.26 billion worth of oil for food and medicine every six months under the U.N. arrangements described by Patriarch Raphael, but this does not suffice to bring the nation’s people back from the brink. Economic sanctions have cut revenues by 90 percent!”

Chuck Colson when speaking of the Yugoslavia campaign and the Church’s involvement in past wars said, "The Vietnam-era protests weren't the only time that the Church argued against its own government's use of military force. During World War II, British clergy denounced their own government's carpet bombing of German cities. And before the Gulf War, many Christians raised serious Just War concerns. It was a healthy debate.

These Christians, right or wrong, at least recognized that a Christian's first allegiance is to the City of God. Whether Caesar listens or not, we are to be the conscience of society.

So if the campaign in Yugoslavia should tragically turn into a quagmire from which the U.S. can't extricate itself--a real possibility, many fear-- the blame will lie not only at the feet of the president and his administration, but also at the feet of those Christians who said nothing."

And You Think You Understand Suffering?

2004-11-10T13:37:00.000-05:00

I just read a great book for my Contemporary Literature Class titled The Jungle. This novel by Upton Sinclair was first published in the early 1900s and had such shock value that the United States President, Theodore Roosevelt, ordered a federal investigation into the food industry, the book sold over 150,00 copies and Sinclair was able to become a national figure and run on the socialist ticket for congress. I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Jungle and I feel that the sensuality of life has been revealed to me in an unpredictable way. Raised in a strong republican family I scoffed at those who labeled themselves as ‘victims’ and reacted to life through the victim philosophy of the socialist cause. After reading Sinclair’s novel I have begun to think that just maybe there might be some truth to the impossibility of individuality and making it on one’s own by simply working harder. I have also realized that there is good in suffering and that until a person goes through brutal suffering a person has not authentically experienced the extent of being human. Suffering is good in for its own sake. I often have heard it argued that suffering is a means rather than an end; suffering is in place to help one become more appreciative. But, after vicariously feeling some of those same depths that Sinclair depicted through Jurgis (pronounced yar-gis), I believe that maybe suffering is in fact good.

Jurgis, a Lithuanian immigrant who had come to Chicago because of rumors of becoming rich in America, continued working and though life was hard Jurgis and his family was able to continue earning money and stay alive until one unforeseen day in the middle of a harsh winter when a steer broke loose at the stockyards and Jurgis, in an effort to leap to safety, badly sprained his ankle. He tried to continue work, but soon the pain became so extreme that he almost fainted. Somehow he managed to make it home that night though the blistering snow, though he could scarcely see for the pain. After a visit to the doctor he and the family realized with terror in their hearts that Jurgis would be unable to return to work for at least three months. His seventeen and half cents an hour job would surely be given away in a matter of hours to one of the hundreds of unemployed men waiting out in the cold for work and there was no such thing as suing your employer or workers compensation. Jurgis family would soon be out of money and they were still in the bitter months of winter. For Jurgis, shivering and painfully now lying in his bed in the drafty threadbaren place that he called home:

It was like seeing the world fall away from underneath his feet; like plunging down into a bottomless abyss, and to yawning caverns of despair. It might be true, then, after all, what others had told him about life, that the best powers of a man might not be equal to it! It might be true that, strive as he would, toil as he would, he might fail, and go down and be destroyed! The thought of this was like an icy hand at his hearth; the thought that here, in this ghastly home of all horror, he and all those who were dear to him might lie and perish of starvation and cold and there would be no ear to hear their cry, no hand to help them! It was true, it was true—that there in this huge city, with its stores of heaped-up wealth, human creatures” might die without the slightest share of mercy (111-112).

Sinclair, Upton. The Jungle. New York: Airmont, 1965.

A Marriage Proposal

2004-10-08T23:18:00.000-04:00

Friday, October 8 is a day that I had been planning for a while. I had met with both her mom and dad to ask them if they would give me their permission to ask Melissa to marry me. This girl loves surprises but she is impossibly hard to catch unaware. I thought for a long time about how exactly I would ask her to marry me. I knew that she loves to be the center of attention, that her family is highly important to her and that she loves creativity. I needed a plan.

Friday rolled around and Melissa and I were in the car and driving to her sister’s house where her mom just so ‘happened’ to decide to throw Melissa a party. We arrived in the driveway and I said to Melissa, “There seems to be a lot of cars here. I thought that your mom said she was going to throw you a small party with your family.” “Yeah” she remarked nonchalantly. We walked into the house and began chatting with her family and friends.

I nervously picked at the hamburger and pasta mixture on my plate as I thought ahead to what I was about to do. Time passed quickly that evening and before long Jen, Melissa’s sister and Megan, Melissa’s best friend, were ushering Melissa outside for a ‘special game.’ They blindfolded her and led her to the backyard where she was instructed to follow the yarn that had been previously strewn across the yard extending from a building to a fence to a post etc. She followed it until she came to her first birthday present. I can’t remember what it was. In fact I can hardly remember anything that she received that day while she blindly followed that red thread from gift to gift and card to card. As soon as she started her ‘special game’ I quickly ran around the front of the house to grab a special little item out of the car and then came back to where Melissa was trustingly traversing across the grass, guided by the red cord. She was almost finished. I now tightly grasped the end of the yarn that Megan handed to me as Melissa came closer and closer until finally she was touching my hands.

What happened next seemed to pass like a dream after waking. The sun had gone down and the light was dim. Off her blindfold came. I dropped to one knee and then silence. Though we were surrounded by family and friends for that moment they seemed to fade away. “Baby, I love you and I would like to spend the rest of my life with you.” I could feel the ring between my fingers as I said, “I would like to know if you would be willing to . . .” At that moment I revealed the ring which seemed to float between my fingers. I had no time to think. Instead the words that I had practiced in front of the mirror so many times before continued to form on my tongue: “I would like to know if you would be willing to let go of everything that you have ever known and embark on a grand new adventure, together. Melissa will you marry me?” Her eyes were sparkling as she . . . .

said “yes.”

A Morning with Her Father

2004-09-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

It was early, 7:35 AM when I ran outside and jumped into my car to leave for Orlando. “What about the ring? He may want to see it. It may help to communicate to him how much his daughter means to me.” I hurriedly jumped out of my car and fumbled with the keys while trying to unlock the door that I had just locked on my way out. I ran into the house and grabbed the small white box upon which was written “ZALES the diamond store.” I was now on my way to see her dad.

“How is he going to respond” I wondered to myself as I repeated the few carefully contemplated words that would alter not only my life and hers, but would strongly affect many others who were close to us. I pictured in my mind him and I sitting across the table from one another when suddenly out of my mouth came the words “I would like to know if you will give me your permission, that I might ask your daughter to marry me.”

My mind was back on traffic now. Have I ever told you how bad the traffic is down here in Florida? It’s terrible. Construction has been going on night and day since I have arrived here over two years ago and yet I have still to notice any progress. The cars between me and the stoplight ahead, at which I planned to turn, stretched on for nearly a mile. I could just barely make out the signal in the distance as I brought my car to a stop behind a fellow Floridian commuter. Upon second thought as to my traveling plans I quickly made a u-turn and decided to take the toll road, though two dollars lighter I knew my wallet would be. It was important that I arrived at her father’s house in time.

Finely though nearly two hours later, I had made it. After at least two or three wrong turns and probably that many calls to her dad’s cell phone I was knocking at his door. All of this and I was only fifteen minutes late. We sat down together at his kitchen table and chatted about work, the war in Iraq and the recent hurricanes when suddenly the conversation came to a lull and he said, “So what’s up?” I hesitated and then asked him the question that I had repeated so many times in my head. I spoke the words that caused me so much thought and so little sleep the previous night and then . . . silence. I waited for him to respond. He paused for a moment and then began asking the questions. “How are you going to take care of her?” “You’re not going to take her out of the country on any missionary endeavors are you?” “What are your future plans?” “When would you like to get married?” Though I tried to answer his questions confidently and with strong assurance, the words seemed to stumble as they hobbled on out of my mouth. Somehow they must have come across with some amount of persuasion because before I knew it there was a smile on his face and an outstretched arm which I firmly grasped and happily shook—a feeling of relief coming over me. “Congratulations,” he said.

My Experience with Hurricane Frances

2004-09-07T19:49:00.000-04:00

Florida has made it through one of God’s fiercest forces, Hurricane Frances. She produced high wind gusts and steady rain, but as far as I can tell the central part of the state fared well. Most folks were fearfully and strongly motivated to prepare as much as possible for Frances after their experiences with Charley's wake. Certain shelves at WalMart were carefully picked clean of needed back-up items, batteries and such and I understand that Home Depot sold quite a few plywood sheets to folks who wanted to board up their windows. There's much money to be made from these hurricanes. My girlfriend Melissa, who works at Teen Challenge, a home for troubled girls, helped to evacuate thirty-one teenage girls to the local high school where they safely stayed the night waiting for Frances to pass. I spent the day with her and the girls on Sunday. It was quite a site. Hundreds of people lined the halls of the school, sitting on blankets and pillows, chatting with one another and played games while they impatiently waited for the barely moving hurricane to pass. Everyone finally left the shelter at about six or seven that evening. Though the winds still seemed to be blowing fiercely the worst of the circling personality had strolled its way on through Lakeland, Florida.

Taking the Lie Detector Test

2004-08-30T19:53:00.000-04:00

I’m working hard to get my job back at the Sheriff’s Office in the communication center where all of the 911 calls are received. I had to take another lie detector test as part of the interview process and it is as if one is baring his soul to the proctor. There you are in a sound-proof room, seated with both feet planted firmly on the floor. Straps are wrapped around your body, your arm and your fingers to measure every breath you take, every beat of your heart and every hint of perspiration. What happens if you make a mistake? You’re doing your best to tell the truth, but will it look like you have lied if you are nervous during the test? All of these thoughts are raging through your head as you consciously feel your heart pumping against the strap circling your chest. The beige wall seems to focus in and out as the man asks you a question and then pauses to stare at his computer screen and then back at you. You are not allowed to look at him, but instead the nail in the wall in front of you is your only friend. One of the questions he asks is, “Have you ever done anything bad?” Who could possibly answer that question no? Of course you’ve done something bad. “Have you ever lied about someone behind his or her back?” Soon the test is over and you’re relieved to find out that you have passed.

Our First Date

2004-01-31T19:24:00.000-05:00

I don’t know if I mentioned to you that Melissa and I are seeing each other. I was rather nervous when I asked her if she was willing to pursue a committed relationship because I had been praying for weeks that if this wasn’t right, that she would say no. So, I wasn’t sure what exactly that she was going to say. I talked to her on Friday, and asked her if she was still planning on going bowling with a bunch of friends on Saturday and she replied that most of the people that she had talked to didn’t want to spend the money. So, I asked her, “What about rollerblading?”

“Well,” she replied, “not everyone has rollerblades.”

“What about just you and me?” She looked at me blankly, not sure what to say. “Think about and let me know.” I told her before saying good bye and heading toward my dorm room.

Well, as I’m sure that you have guessed, she came to me later that day and said that she would like to go. It was set, just she and I. I didn’t want to make it too serious of a thing, so I thought rollerblading would be fun, but as causal as the “date” seemed, I was still nervous. I took a shower, combed my hair just right and even pulled out the Tommy Hilfiger bath set that I had received for Christmas. Seven o’clock came around and I went on over to the dorm room that she was at and knocked on the door. The door opened and there she was, though causally dressed, she had just gotten her hair cut and was looking rather attractive. The night had begun. We rollerbladed and carried on a normal conversation for a while, before driving on over to Lake Hollingsworth for a starry walk around the lake.

The lake was perfect. I saw a cute little dock jutting out into the rippling water, and thought it looked like a great place to sit down and ask her about a serious courtship. I led her over to the dock, sat down and swung my feet over the edge, when suddenly, SPLASH! Though I couldn’t see it very well the murky black water was at a very high level, almost up to the edge of the boards. I jumped up, thoughts of alligators jumping into my head. No, no, this dock wouldn’t work. After a few more minutes of walking, we had found the perfect dock. I sat down. She sat down. After a few minutes I turned to her and began the conversation.

“Melissa, I’m strongly attracted to you and I have been thinking a lot about you . . .” You should have seen the smile on her face. Her eyes were practically sparkling. I went on to ask her if a purposeful relationship was something that she was sure about committing to.

She said “Yes.”

So, now we’re together and we’ve been having a lot of fun over the past few weeks getting to know one another, planning our relationship, setting boundaries and working together. We’re even working on a mission statement for our relationship. So far we have: “To exhibit a godly relationship of moral excellence, respect and commitment as we value, enjoy, discover and learn about each other while exploring the possibility of marriage.”

Thank you for keeping us in your prayers Alayna. I wish that you could be down here, along with the rest of the family, getting to know Melissa with me. I really miss all of you. Tell everyone that I said hi. I love you.

Christmas with the Family

2003-12-30T19:47:00.000-05:00

Our Christmas day was interesting. Instead of sleeping over our house on Christmas night, like he normally does, Stephen, my older brother decided to get up early and drive over here from his house, which is about twenty minutes away. God decided to bless us with a beautiful, sparkling white Christmas. It was so white in fact that Stephen, spun out on I75 while going forty five miles per hour and kinda sorta had a meeting with the median, which left quite an impression on the rear end of his Aztek. So my dad drove out there to pick him up while he was waiting for a tow truck to come . . . so, our Christmas started a bit later in the day than normal. It was fun though. Later on that evening we went back over his house for a Christmas party that he was throwing at his apartment. It was a fun informal party and it was good to see everyone again. The next day we all went over my aunts for a Christmas party and played a bunch of corny Christmas games. I love party games. I'm looking forward to a bunch of get-togethers this semester with everyone. I'm sure that they’ll be fun.

The Worst Way to Lose Your Car Key

2003-11-04T20:00:00.000-05:00

Today, like every other Tuesday, Ben and I went out to Lake Hollingsworth to go running. The three mile run around the lake is very tiring, especially in the middle of the day when the sun is beating down on you at about eighty-five degrees and zapping all of your energy. It was a tough run and I felt like I was ready to fall over when we finished. My mind is now dreaming of sitting in my car with all of the windows down and feeling that cool wind across my sweaty face during our ride back to the school. I’m suddenly jerked from my day dream as I put my hand into my pocket, to find

nothing.

My key was gone. We looked all over the place for it and even managed to get the car unlocked, yet it wasn’t in there either. We ended up walking halfway around the lake to find the key, but we still could not find it and Ben and I ended up walking all of the way back to the college. My body was aching, as I’m sure that you can imagine, after burning yourself out running and then walking a bunch of miles. I still don’t have a key. My car is still sitting over in the park by Lake Hollingsworth. Ah, well, I’m going to go tomorrow to see if I can get a key made at the Ford dealership tomorrow. Hopefully that will work.

Hiking in Michigan's Upper Peninsula

2003-08-20T20:07:00.000-04:00

This past weekend I and some friends went up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to go back-packing for a few days. We had a great time hiking along the shores and cliffs of Lake Superior. The scenery was beautiful. We even went swimming along the side of the pictured rocks and we were able to swim into these caves that the waves had carved into the sandstone. It was magnificent and the water was crystal clear, though a little chilly. During the night, we had to hang up our food from a tree so that the bears wouldn't be able to get into it. Late one night, I was lying in my hammock, trying to fall asleep. It was probably one or two o'clock and as I listened I heard the sound of a heavily breathing animal. Fear gripped my entire body. I could just imagine a bear walking into our camp, but I was afraid to look because the bear might see me. Then I heard another noise that sounded like a quiet snarl. I laid there in a terrified silence, afraid to move. I had never been more afraid before in my life. Then I realized that it wasn't a bear but the person breathing and snoring in the tent next to me.

Canoeing in the Rain

2003-07-30T20:13:00.000-04:00

A group of us from the college and career group at church went to Sterling to go canoeing this past weekend. It was a lot of fun, except that it rained half of the time and was slightly cold while we were on the rifle river canoeing. Eventually it stopped raining, just in time to have our canoe tipped over when a big ol' tree stump decided to jump up in the middle of the river just as we were going by.

During the first night of camping it was discovered that we didn't have enough tents for everyone, so a few of us guys decided to sleep in the screen tent. We soon realized that our choice of lodging was not particularly a good idea when it started raining at four in the morning. I huddled as close to the middle of the tent as I could, but the rain still managed to visit.

We had a lot of fun though, sitting around the campfire, talking, singing, and playing games. Camping is always fun and you get to know people quite quickly when your living, eating a sleeping beside them.

A Track Meet

2003-06-27T20:18:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week my brothers and I met up with the Bay Area Runners club to do some running along with my uncle–who has been running and coaching his entire life–and his kids. I, along with my brothers and my uncle decided to run the mile. I figured, "Ahh, if my forty something year old uncle can run this, so can I." I assumed that it would not be any problem since my brothers and I jog a couple of miles every morning anyway, well except Sunday. I quickly discovered that running a mile is a lot different than jogging two. I barely made it. Near the end of the mile run at the track meet, I felt like I was about to fall over and die. I think that my time was about six minutes and thirty seconds.