The Comedy of Summer Plans

Summer plans are funny. In May, we talk about all the things we'll do this summer. In September, we try to figure out what to do with the residue our unmet expectations leave on our lives. Now it's October. As a pastor, this means I'm busy. A colleague in ministry, also a Vikings fan, is at the Jets-Vikings game tonight. I'm not.

To watch the game tonight on television I had to arrange things with myself and get serious about not sitting with the laptop on my lap. Of course it is ... right here ... on my lap, my fingers tapping the keys.

Perhaps you were expecting theological reflection. This is. If I don't put this laptop down immediately, we all have solid evidence that I have a theological problem. Reformed theology rests, laughs off drivenness, taunts "rat race," image maintaining anxiety.

The summer's over, in more ways than one. I'm shutting this thing off.


(By the way, I took a look at all my unposted blogs that I was going to haul out. See below. There was a reason I didn't publish these! So, the last entry is the last of its type.)

Finishing Well

I'm 45 years old today. Certain numbers hit people in different ways. We all have birthdays that come and go without much drama, but we all also have those birthdays that hit us hard. Time is running out. For some reason turning 27 was hard for me. I think 53 was a hard one for my dad. 30 and 40 are classically difficult. 45 is nothing to sneeze at. I better get going. My to-do list is now a to-do soon list. Someday is today. This is how I'm feeling. I think it's healthy. In fact, I'm convinced it's God. To be someone who attempts to follow Christ is to be someone who yearns to finish well. Nothing has more appeal.

But finishing well means something different at 45 with two little kids than it did at 27 when I felt like I was still too much of a kid. It means something different when there's no part of any competition or contest anywhere that seems more interesting than having the time to sit outside on my deck and read a book. It means something different when I genuinely let go of what people think and say about me, good or bad. It means something different when time is precious because it's something I can give to others instead something I can give to myself. It means something different. Getting older means there's less time left, but it also takes the pressure off. My teenaged dreams of greatness now are safely dead and buried. I don't even listen to U2 anymore, never mind want to be their keyboard player. There are all kinds of things I can forget about, put away, dismiss, and release into the wind.

Why do people complain about getting older? Especially Christians? There's a sweetness to this. I'm enjoying, like never before, a great cup of coffee, a pending thunder storm, and an unmowed lawn that I won't harm of blade of today. The striving of youth with all its perspiring ambition gives way to the smiling, settled indifference of slightly weary middle age. (How's that for bad writing!) Now I want to do things because I want to do them, not because I want them to do something for me. I feel urgency and drive, but they're different. They're calmer and less prone to frustration. Is it possible that the older you get, the younger you feel in your spirit? Is it possible that the more certain and abundant your failures in life have been, the more you can really succeed in ways that satisfy your spirit?

One thing is certain.

There's an amazing difference between the life God chooses for us and the life we would choose for ourselves.

Men's Room Cleaning Insights

A few teased me for how long it took me to clean the toilets and everything else in the main men's room in our new building over the weekend. I defended myself poorly by recounting the fact that construction workers have been using (and not really cleaning) this men's room for months. Also, those stickers on new toilets, urinals, and sinks can be a bear to remove. Anyway, here are some profound insights for life derived from my "leisurely" cleaning of the men's room in the new building.

1) The smallest thing, dust, can present the biggest problem. This is how it is throughout life. The small things, especially the really small things, hog up all our time and energy. There was dust everywhere. It was on every surface. The bathroom will need another cleaning next week to get it ready for Easter because there will be more dust. There is always more dust. Small stuff happens. We can decide not to "sweat the small stuff," but we still have to deal with it and there is sometimes a high cost in dealing with it.

2) The nasty mess inside each of the toilet bowls was the easiest thing to clean. Harsh chemicals, blue and fresh smelling, combined with a simple, sturdy brush, tidied things up quickly. One possible reason I was alone in my cleaning project was how scary and disgusting these bowls seemed. Life is like this too. The problems that look big are often no problem at all.

3) Sometimes we're asked to sacrifice control for convenience. This bathroom has automatic sinks. You just put your hands under them and they pour forth luke warm water. This is fine unless you're trying to clean the sink! It was quite of battle of wits between me and the little invisible hand-detecting eyeballs hiding out there somewhere under each faucet! I learned to trick them by quick motions. I felt a little like Neo from the Matrix. I'm just glad those guys who timed my cleaning efforts weren't there to watch this. I would never hear the end of it. Is convenience worth the control we sacrifice for it?

Aren't you glad I wrote about this here instead of using it in a sermon? Can you see the PowerPoint pictures of toilets and brushes? Probably not, eh? Perhaps the final insight here is that we can learn from anything on any day.

Dances With Calendars

It's just a number, just a date, just a change of names, but, regardless, it is a new year. Sometimes it seems pointless to make a fuss about the new year, but this year I feel pulled in a new direction. Why not? What's the harm of resetting and examining my life and its impact? There's none at all, as far as I can tell. This year there's also the challenge of looking at the next ten years, as we begin a new decade. What do I think God wants from me and for me for the next ten years? Is this it? I've been wondering about my whole life recently. Again, this is a good thing. Here's some guidelines for "kicking the tires" on one's life:

1) Pray brief, intense, and frequent prayers (per Martin Luther) without lingering too long on typical prayer fare surrounding personal reflection.

2) Do all the old school goal setting stuff, no matter how cliche it may seem. For example, imagine what's possible if you had no limits. If you could do anything, what would you do? It may feel clunky at first, but dreaming like this is a faith essential. God has little interest in incremental improvements or maintaining status quo. Living by faith isn't for the faint of heart or slackers who love mediocrity. Grandiose dreaming is one of the most effective ways I know of to jump start a lackluster faith or life. Reality, with the Holy Spirit's help, will edit anything that smacks of ego or pride.

3) Forget the past. (Yes, it's that simple, though not that easy. Ask God to help.)

4) Survey your present. Where are you exactly? You can't make any progress until you know. My GPS doesn't work until it tells me where I am. It's the same with our lives.

5) Read, watch, and/or study the biographies of people you admire, people who've done what you feel called by God to do. What did they do that is different from what you are doing? What did they believe that is different from what you are believing?

6) Let someone know your goals or what's changed inside of you that may now change your life's direction. It can be me if you want, just comment here or e-mail me at jtorres@goodwillchurch.org.

7) Always remember those you love and what you want in your life with and for them. This is the hardest one for me because my vocation, as I'm presently navigating through it, tends to leave my family behind. For me, this can't continue. What are the things in your life that can't continue?

May God richly bless you and your family in 2010!

Tiger Woods

I'm watching the Arnold Palmer Invitational as I drift in and out of post-preaching consciousness. It's fun. Tiger is back. For me, golf is interesting again. Golf is great again. I wonder why this guy is so compelling. He just pulled ahead. The coverage is upstaging other programming at the top of the hour. I'm not sure a Tigerless tournament would do this. 

So how is this helpful? Well, I can ask, "How can I preach like Tiger Woods plays golf?" or, maybe better, "How can I live for Christ like Tiger Woods plays golf?" He's focused, serious, unflappable, and always seeking improvement. 

Also, the secret of Tiger Woods' success is really his dad. His dad, who passed away a few years ago, trained him to play golf well from the age of 3! Tiger Woods is in no way an overnight success or a "miracle" story. And we're just talking about golf: a game. There's a lesson here for Christian parents. 

The So-Called Ordinary

It's an ordinary day. 

Today I'm preparing for an interview with The Bridge radio network. I wrote a little blurb for their newsletter too. It's all about Easter, ministry, and a book by Wayne Cordeiro I'll be featuring this month titled: "Leading on Empty: Refilling Your Tank and Renewing Your Passion." Easter is the big month for pastors and the tough month for pastors. Flames fanned higher nearly always lead to burnout or symptoms of burnout. 

Later today, Shannon and I go to a hospital in or near NYC to visit a young friend and ministry partner who has succumbed to cancer. Apparently, she'll be gone soon. We heard she's already in a coma. Her husband, family, and other friends will be there. Her daughter is a year older than mine. We went to Africa together twice, in 2004 and in 2007. Dear friends.

For all the emotions I'm feeling concerning all of this, I realize that everything I'm going through or talking about today is ... ordinary. This is ordinary human life and ordinary ministry. So-called ordinary life involves death, so-called ordinary ministry involves burnout, and redemption can only be redemption through Jesus' death on the cross. 

I guess that last one's not so ordinary ...  

The Slow Work of Sunlight

Spring is here, at least per the calendar. It is a time for new life, not in the abstract sense, but in the literal, tangible sense. You can see it. You can see it on the ground in the form of green grass and flowers. You can see it in the trees in the form of green leaves. You can see it. A green world around us becomes lit up by sunshine. In fact, all this new life is powered by sunshine. Photosynthesis is the term we learned in school. Light from the sun causes an organism to come to life. So does the process work in our spiritual lives. Slowly, with sufficient exposure to the warm, nourishing light of God, our souls come to life. It's a good thing too. This last winter was particularly cold and long for some of us. The best thing about it now is that it is over. I'm not just talking about physical winter. I'm talking about inner winter. Hardened, frozen, hostile landscapes aren't just outdoors. Spring, then, is a season to do three things:

1) REACH UP - Just like trees seem to be reaching for the sun, so reach for God. Far from hiding from or apologizing for where life comes from, trees are like visible statements about the sun. Healthy trees let all know that they depend on and derive all their glory from the sun.

2) REACH DOWN - All the sunlight and green that we can see with our eyes tells of something else beyond the reach of our eyes. Trees grow when their roots grow. Trees are healthy and strong when their roots are healthy and strong. The true beauty and life of a tree is invisible to the eye. Roots are a tree's secret life. Our secret life as believers is no less important. Read Matthew 6.

3) REACH OUT - Every healthy tree has new branches and new leaves. Some Christians could use an encouraging reminder of this. The "new" part of new life is forgotten or forsaken by some. What new things are you doing this spring to express and enjoy your new life in Christ? How is the light of God doing new work within you and through you into the lives of others?     

Currents

Soon, my sister Kathleen will be embarking on a round-the-world sailing adventure. Winds and currents are not things she and her sailing partner can take lightly. The winds and currents of life are the same. In my case, lately, the winds and currents have pushed the boat of my life in some interesting places. I won't write about the details, but some reading this who know me and know what's going on in our church know some of them. They involve expectations and plans. For example, I expected some new staff members in our church and some old ones to stay, but our staff is much smaller today than it was 6 months ago. This changes things. At the same time, I have more opportunities than I have ever had. All of it adds up to more work ... unless I step back. And here's the key. It's the key for me and anyone else going through something similar. A poor sailor fights the winds and currents; a skilled one harnesses them. In the days to come, I cannot decide to work harder or more. This will surely wear me out. I have to prayerfully interpret the currents in my life. God is sovereign after all. He directs the winds and currents at sea and in life. What does He want me do? The answer is not more. It might actually be less. If more is all I come up with, then I haven't prayed or thought enough about my situation. Ask the same question for yourself if winds and currents are playing strange tricks on your life. Lord, what do you want me to do now?  

 

Peculiar Day Off

It was strange, this Monday morning, to transition from VBS with over 200 kids singing, screaming, and having a good time to the opening of the Vet Center in Middletown, NY, where I prayed both an opening and closing prayer in my BDU's (the camouflage uniform). U.S. Congressmen, A New York Senator, the Orange County Supervisor, and others were there lending good support, but the stars in my eyes were the Vet Center workers. These people from all over have dedicated their lives to helping veterans, especially with PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). Now I'm home salvaging what little I can from a supposed day off, listening to Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring" and drinking different flavors of Tassimo coffee. I shook the hands of Congressman Hall and Congressman Hinchey a few hours ago. These same hands were clapping with 200 kids to the beat of the newest fun kids' praise songs hours before that. Now they are ironing.  Somebody spoke to me yesterday between church services and said I was like a celebrity. Peculiar. Right now, I'm ironing and probably the only person in Orange County NY this instant listening to 20th classical music. I'm many things, but not a celebrity. Some days off are more peculiar than others.