Speaking of my heros...

Bishop Gene Robinson

I heart this man and these videos. I think after you watch them you will know why I do.

FOR THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO Gene's Excerpt

IT GETS BETTER

BLESSING

Skakes

Your not alone in this you know...

Recently I was out for coffee by a friend and was asked if I had any pastoral mentors? To which I responded,
"Yes! I actually have many mentors that I look up to and that I hope one day to emulate in ministry".
The friend smiled and with kindness in their eye stared back and then re-asked the question,
"I mean to say do you have any queer pastoral mentors?"
I began to explain about my hero Bishop Gene Robinson, and how one day I wished I could meet him. Even if only to give him a hug and say thank you from the bottom of my heart. My friend then looked back at me and said,
"Do you personally know anyone who is queer and in ministry that could mentor you?"
While I wished the answer was yes...its was more like a "yea...yeah I do...um they live in Ontario and there is this really awesome Lesbian couple is traveling in their RV across Canada and the USA since one of them no longer has a job at a church as she was let go due to her 'life style' ".

But the truth in that moment didn't escape me. While I "know of" many queer pastors, I do not know "know" any queer pastors on the same level I would my other pastoral mentors. I know of some supportive peers or people walking the same walk as me maybe a year or 2 a head or behind...but I realized that I was lacking that "Elder-statesmen or Woman" who had already walked the walk, and could offer much needed advice or even a sounding board for what lies ahead. So now I am on a mission to find people, like myself but willing and able to be my mentor as I embark on the road a head. I realize this wont happen over night and I am ok with that. I am looking forward to meeting new people, connecting with those who have gone before me, and gaining knowledge and wisdom from them as I try to make my own way.

Skakes

First Good Shepherd Sermon

This Sunday I gave my first sermon at my home congregation. I have to admit this was a moment I had been avoiding for a while. I guess I just felt a little too much pressure to do well and that scared me off from even attempting it before this point. I have given sermons before but they had always been in conjunction with another organization or at another Church. While these other sermons had been well received it was still a daunting task to write what I did for this Sunday morning. My in-term ministry Pastor Andrew was a great support and help in getting me started and giving me pointers on how to deliver it from the pulpit. Without him this sermon wouldn't have been half as good so this is my big thanks to Andrew! Below you will find the text for that day and the sermon I read. Hope you enjoy it!
Thanks for any feed back:)
Skakes

Mark 1:29-39

Jesus Heals Many

29 As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. 30 Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they immediately told Jesus about her. 31 So he went to her, took her hand and helped her up. The fever left her and she began to wait on them.
32 That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. 33 The whole town gathered at the door, 34 and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.

Jesus Prays in a Solitary Place

35 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. 36 Simon and his companions went to look for him, 37 and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you!”
38 Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” 39 So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.



May the words of my mouth and this mediation of my heart be pleasing in your sight Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

As I stand before you today, with pews full of familiar and loving faces, I cant help but feel overwhelmed by a deep sense of gratitude. Growing up in this congregation was a blessing to me. To see weekly examples of how to care for one another as I observed new and old members being welcomed into our doors each Sunday morning. To have been supported by pillars of faith in the pews around me each week. Many of whom were always more then willing to grab a coffee, share your faith journey with me, and allow me to share mine with you. To be constantly surrounded by a community of caring and loving believers who became the very hands and feet of Jesus allowing me to learn and lean on you in times of need. These are not things every youth is blessed with, but I was. The famed anthropologist Margret Mead once said it takes a village to raise a child and I would venture to say that it takes a congregation to raise a youth in faith. So for these and many other things both great and small I say thank you.

While I have attended Good Shepherd all of my life, some of you may not know me well enough to say where I spent most of my waking hours during my high school years. I would love to tell you it was spent in the library studying to get straight A’s or perhaps working with the model UN club to solve world peace. But, if the truth were to be told, I was a gym rat. I loved to play basketball. Anytime, anywhere, and with anyone. As every school I attended seemed to have a basketball team I always had somewhere to fulfill my need to bounce a ball on a hardwood floor and hear the light swish of a ball gracefully making its way though the net. While the smell of a freshly varnished floor may give many of you a slight headache, for me the smell evokes fond memories of time spent on the court with my teammates and coach.

At the start of our basketball season things were always a bit slow. Without fail it would take the team a few weeks to learn all the plays, get used to playing with one another, and suffer a few epic defeats before getting our feet under us.

Before the day of our first big game my school would be in a state of energized frenzy. The kind only a school full of teenage angst and pride can produce. Teachers and students alike would ask us how we thought the game would go, or if we could pull out the win? They would then often promise us they would be there to cheer us on and true to their word, they would often show up with a band of friends they had told about the game and all of them would be full of all the enthusiasm they could muster. The amount of people that would show up was astounding. They filled the bleachers like a can of sardines, not leaving any bleacher space go unused. The decibels reached in that small space seemed like a thunderstorm of noise approaching that would erupt with claps of thunderous applause then die down to a whisper to allow for a referee to make a call for all to hear. When the game finally ended, our peers, teachers, and family would often rush over to congratulate us after cheering us on to a hard fought victory. They would tell us how exciting it was to be there, how they couldn't wait to come to the next game, or how great it was to get swept up in the game day environment.

I can imagine the excitement of this environment was similar to that which Jesus and his disciples faced in Capernaum. It wasn't everyday that the people had such a sensational teacher, and if they did he certainly did not cast out unclean spirits as Jesus did that day. You can imagine what it would have been there. To be swept up in Jesus teaching, to witness such tangible power. It is easy to see why and how over the course of an afternoon, the entire region of Galilee would be swept up in such a fervor that the entire city ended up on the door step of Simon and Andrew. And to think Jesus was just getting started.

At the beginning of the lesson, we find Jesus and his disciples escaping the growing crowds that were amassing in and around the synagogue, and taking refuge in the house of Simon and Andrew. Upon Jesus entry into the home it is clear that there is a two fold purpose to this particular site of rest; Jesus is told of Simon’s mother-in-law who was sick with a fever. Jesus acts swiftly, lifting the woman up from her death bed and instantly healing her of her fever.

After a moment like this, one would assume the disciples would react with some amazement over what had just occurred. Or perhaps Simon or his mother-in-law would drops to Jesus’ feet praising and thanking him for his act of mercy and healing. But neither of these things occur. In fact just the opposite seems to happen. None of the disciples present make mention of the miracle at hand, and Simons mother-in-law instantly begins serving the whole party as if nothing had even happened in the first place.

While those within the walls of Simon and Andrew’s home may have remained quiet in the mist of a great miracle, the streets of Capernaum echoed with great excitement over the story of the man named Jesus, who had cast out an evil spirit, and had raised a woman from death to new life. After the sun had set, the people of the surrounding Galaleeian countryside brought all the sick or possessed to Jesus. I can not fathom the noise that must had arisen from the streets outside of Simon and Andrews house with half of the countryside camped out in front of their door waiting for Jesus. I can see the streets overcrowded, similar to the gymnasium in my high school years, with all the people packed into the narrow streets waiting for a miracle to happen. People with their sick friends and families, their provisions for the night ahead of them, and whatever animals they had used to help get them there. What if you were one of these people? What if you had made your way with the help of your family to be healed? What would it have been like to sit in the dark and wait for the moment to find out if this man could really restore your life.

Leading up to Jesus’ appearance the crowed began to vibrate with excitement at the the possibility of healing. When Jesus appeared he must have been greeted with great cries of excitement and praise. As Jesus moved though the crowd with his disciples, curing many and casting out demons, it must have seemed the city was coming back to life. Everyone Jesus touched that day had a story of pain, hurting, and suffering, but with Jesus’ healing touch they had new life and a future. A night such as this must have been very exhilarating and exhausting for both Jesus and his new disciples. I can only imagine the high the disciples must have felt after seeing so many lives changed in the course of a few hours, and the tiredness that must have set in as soon as the crowds had gone home. The quietness and calm that would have set over the streets at this moment ,after the miraculous events of that evening, must have been refreshing for not only Jesus, but all of his followers as well.


Throughout high school I would get up at 6:30am, but not do to have time to shower and do my hair and make up for the day. For me, my 6:30 wake ups meant 7am shoot arounds in my high school gym. My Father would drop me off every morning at this early hour so I could sneak in a few moments of alone time in the gym. At that hour, the only people in the school were myself, my coach, and a janitor or two. The school, normally a frenzy of teens and teachers bustling from class to class was in these early moments dark, still, and silent. I would grab the keys from my coach, unlock the gym, turn on a few lights, then start to shoot around. In these early morning moments the silence was almost meditative. With every shot, time seemed to slow down and every bounce of the ball seemed deafening to me in the dark empty gym.

The dark quite of the morning was the one time of day I could be completely alone with my thoughts, my feelings, and God. The meditative act of shooting the ball gave my mine time to release to the frustrations, and worries of my life. In those early hours I found solitude in the space between the night and the busyness the morning would bring. God met me there in that gym and listened as I talked both aloud and in my head about my life and I would leave the gym feeling calm.

Similarly for Jesus rising early, seeking solitude, and praying were a source of comfort, and strength for our Lord to spend intimate time in his Father’s presence. The recording of this small incident in the grand scheme of the earlier healing miracles shows the importance of taking time out of the busy-ness to spiritually rest. Jesus knows the needs of those who are sick but He also acknowledges the absolute necessity of silence and communion with God and he encourages us to enter into the same intimacy. This balance in Jesus’ life was an example to His first disciples, and is even more important in our life where so much emphasis is placed on what people do and achieve. We live in a world of deadlines, a world in which we need a few extra hours in the day, a world of business and clutter, both within our faith life and that of the world. Often I lose sight of the importance of “being”, of spending time with the God who created me.

Jesus reveals how to be a whole person; who gives His time and energy generously and lovingly to those around Him to further the kingdom, but who also gives time and space generously and lovingly to God.

and may this be so among us.

...after a long silence

So it has been a while. Much has changed in my world...yet much has stayed the same. I will be posting a lot more from here on out. Mainly to do with life, love, and the pursuit of seminary. Oh and the occasional sermon. Which I should finish now...so here I go!

Skakes

Every scar is a bridge to someones broken heart...

This week I have rediscovered Thrice's Album Vheissu and it has lyrically and melodically been making my life. This is an album I literally wore out while I was in high school. It really spoke to where I was at personally as well as spiritually then and it seems to have come full circle now. While their sound may not be for everyone...lyrically Thrice has had an increasing theological and soteriological presence throughout their discography that really anyone with an interest in such a matter can find beautiful. To my ears this is the album that really solidified their foundation as a band who had come to understand their basis spiritually to lie somewhere within Christianity. In saying this I am not saying that they are a "Christian band" as that holds a whole can of worms I never wish to associate with Thrice...but none the less it would be painful to ignore the subtle and not so subtle Christian influences coming to the forefront of their writing in this album. In someways I would even call Vheissu their own "coming out" disk of sorts as it is clear from the lyrical content that the writer at least is no longer spiritually searching for a direction but rather is in pursuit of a particular line of belief and faith. Below are a few lyrics that really stand out to me as such...

Image Of The Invisible :
we're more than carbon and chemicals
free will is ours and we can't let go
we can't allow this, the quiet cull
so we sing out this, our canticle
we are the image of the invisible
we all were lost now we are found
no one can stop us or slow us down
we are all named and we are all known
we know that we'll never walk alone
we're more than static and dial tone
we're emblematic of the unknown
raise up the banner, bend back your bows
remove the cancer, take back your souls
we are the image of the invisible

Moths To Flame :
once again the bread and wine
but it seems the meanings may be deeper still this time
and you surprised me when you said I'd fall away, don't you know me
I could never be ashamed of you, no I?
I've never been this cold, the fire's gravity compels
like planets cling to sol, I feel my orbit start to fail
like moths to flame I come, too close and all my oaths are burned
as stars begin to run, all my accusers take their turn
and calling curses down, from my lips lies like poison spill
and then that awful sound, the sound of prophesy fulfilled
and then I met your eyes, and I remember everything
and something in me dies, the night that I betrayed my king

While I find the lyrical content of Image of the Invisible to resemble a battle cry for the 21st century...I think the lyrical beauty of Moth to Flame in re-telling the betrayal of Jesus at the hands of Peter to be quite stunning and almost Psalm like. If you havnt really looked into Thrice please do. If your not a fan of the genre of music...check out their lyrics of newer stuff. They have mellowed out as the years have gone on but still have managed to maintain their melodic swells and lyrical genius.

Glad I remembered this disk. Its been making my week. I'll leave you with the track I could not live without on this album. Pretty sure it is the reason the disk got worn out...

Skakes

Trust

I often find myself drawn to bargain book bins in Christian book stores. Why am I? Really I cant answer that...as I really could not tell you. What I do know is that every once and a while I find a jem of a book that ends up really speaking to where I am at. The above book is one such jem I found in 2005 and unlike many of the jems i have found I have actually managed to keep this one. I am one of those crazy book givers who feels the need to share the life changing books i have read with others. So usually when I am done such a book i promptly pass it on to someone else. But this book "Who can you Trust: overcoming betrayal and fear" by Howard E. Butt jr. is a work I am glad I have held on to. Having read it over 5 years ago i am excited to read it with new eyes and hope it can help me come to terms with a lot of issues I foresee myself going through in the next term. I'll keep ya posted on how its 2nd read goes.

Skakes

It is not the greatness of our faith, but the greatness of our God, which counts

"Faith is about being prepared to put one's trust in the promises of God, and the integrity and faithfulness of the God who made those promises. Faith is only as strong as the one in whom we believe and trust. The efficacy of faith does not rest upon the intensity with which we believe, but in the reliability of the one in whom we believe. It is not the greatness of our faith, but the greatness of our God, which counts". - Anglican Theologian Alister McGrath presenting Martin Luther's convictions.

Admittedly this quote is not how I would have envisioned started this new blog...but I feel it is fitting of where I feel I am at right at this very moment. If I said this week has been anything but difficult I would be lying. Yet as of right now I feel a peace I haven't felt for a long while. This peace in the midst of the storm this week is nothing but a testament to where I am at right now, rather I should say where God had brought and led me. I guess I should maybe explain. This week has given me more then a few chances to loose my pieces of my faith in God, in friends, and in love. If you would have told me a week ago today that within 7 days I would feel absolutely and completely destroyed mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally I would have said that could never happen. Yet it did. It sure did.

Last Monday I remembered the loss of a very good friend, mentor, and "sister" Krista. It was a devastating day on many levels as I slowly but surely became all to aware that I was far from over grieving the loss of her. The loss hit sometime around lunch and really never left my side for the remainder of the next few days. If you have ever lost someone, someone close, you will know the feeling I am describing. I think the feelings of deep grief associated with her sudden passing were only surmounted by the fact that they were accompanied a deep anger with God over the situation of her passing. She had just given birth to her third child. A beautiful girl who's brother and sister, mother and father, and an entire camp of kids and coaches welcomed into the world with a cheer and a great to do as Krista and her husband were and are pure gold. 2 days after the birth of her daughter krista suffered a massive blood clot at home, and while she was rushed to hospital and had an entire host of family friends and strangers praying for her she passed on. So remembering her loss for me is always a mixed bag of emotions. I feel so blessed to have had her in my life as she truly showed me how to be a woman of God and love. I am saddened for her families loss of a great mother. I am angered by Gods distance at times through dealing with her loss. Often people will speak of getting to ask God one question when they get to heaven. For the longest time I always said I wouldn't really have anything to ask him...but upon Krista's death I knew that question would have to be why Krista? Why now? What is your plan in this brokeness as it surely cant be worth her loss? Yet as mad at God as I can find myself upon remembering Krista i cant help but also rejoice at the life she had lived. The impact she had through her life and her death. I just wish things could have been very different...

This week was also a test of my ability to find the will, grace, humility, and understanding to do the "right thing" when deeply stirred emotionally. While this seemed to be the theme of my week with friends, family, and ex's it came to a head on Saturday that in my deepest nightmares I could have never had imagined. In one phone call my heart was broken, my trust in many things was destroyed, and a great wound of pain was reopened. As the call and its gravity took hold the lies I had worked so hard to displace from my inner most being over the last 6 months began to resurface in the back of my mind. While the revelation of the call brought back many feelings I had never wished to relive God granted me the peace in the moment to deal with the individual with a level of rationally I could have never thought possible. For that I thankful as without that gift this would have all been such a greater mess. I am now just praying he can continue to work in the situation in my heart, and in their heart, to bring healing and wholeness as i know only God can to a situation such as this. I have already felt God give me a peace and an understanding of the call and enough wisdom and grace to know the difference between the individual and their actions. I can only hope and pray that the individual can come to see themselves through the eyes God has granted me to see them through...and that when this person is finally able to forgiver themselves that God will grant me the heart and courage to do the same. All I can do now is intrust the individual and the situation into Gods hands trusting that He will work to bring right to so much wrong and find a way to mend several very broken hearts and souls.

Needless to say I have a lot of praying, seeking, and thinking ahead of me this week. While this past week was a piece of work I look forward to the week to come with its new beginnings, hope for the future, and return of much that is known to be tested and true.

Skakes