Pastor Scott's Thoughts

The Death of a Friend

Trustworthy friends are a strong shelter, whoever finds one has found a treasure.

Trustworthy friends have no price, and no one can estimate their worth.

Trustworthy friends are life's medicine, and those who fear the Lord will find them.

Those who fear the Lord will direct their friendships well... (Sirach 6:14-17)

I have been carrying an inner sense of sadness this week since finding out that a dear friend from college days, Tim Shea, died on Monday.

Tim was in many ways the leader of the circle of friends that became a source of identity and place of shelter during my first couple of years of college. Tim's room was usually the place where our group of guys living in Chapman Hall would gather for small group Bible study, sharing, and prayer. 

There was a group of Freshman girls who completed our gang of friends. Together we spent most of the waking hours of our first year in college together. We ate together, studied together, skiied together, played intramural softball together, drove up to the hot springs together, watched this late night talk show hosted by a young and hip David Letterman together,... etc... etc.

We also grieved together. The last night of our Freshman year, our group drove to Boise for dinner. After dinner we went to a local park, I broke out my guitar, and we sang praise choruses and prayed for one another. We all went our separate ways counting the days until we would be back together in the fall. On the way home two of the girls were in tragic car accident and one of the central leaders of our little pack - Tammy Borgman - was killed. Just a few days after we had left each other in the joy of youth, we were back together holding one another in the midst of heart-wrenching grief and faith-shaking questions.

As is often the case, our group never quite recovered the close-knit nature we had that first year. People get into serious relationships. New friends enter in. People stop living in the same dorm. Life happens. Yet, as I think about each of those "Freshman friends" there is something akin to a "band of brothers" feeling that I have for them. I believe it is not just because of the good things we experienced, but it is primarily because we shared that significant loss together.

Tim and I were both preparing for ministry in college. I was always envious of Tim's heart. When I look back on those first couple of years I always think of Tim as the leader because there was a bigness and a maturity about him that was more than I certainly had at that time. I knew then that I had the skills and the head for ministry, but I always wanted Tim's heart.

Just a few weeks ago Debbie and I took our oldest son Caleb to Point Loma for his first year of college. As we were pulling out of San Diego I was praying for various parts of his year. First on my list of requests was that God would lead him to friends that would help the trajectory of his life be set in directions that would honor him. My guess is that my parents prayed a very similar prayer for me as they drove away from Nampa and headed back to Seattle. I am convinced that my friendship with Tim was one of the ways God answered their prayer. I will be forever glad for my college friendship with him.

I love the text above from Sirach about the value of friends. It's not everyday that a Protestant quotes from the Apocrypha, but the wisdom writer's words about our need for trustworthy friends resounds with God's truth.

I will admit that some of my sadness in hearing about Tim's passing has to do with my own sense of guilt about not living into Sirach's wisdom well. One of the blessings of my life has been the number of places I have lived and the great number of amazing communities of people I have lived within for a time. I am truly blessed with friends almost everywhere in the world. 

The curse of the continually transitioning life so many of us live is that although we have a quantity of friends, the qualities of our friendships suffer. I am often envious of those who have stayed in one place and have friendships with people that have extended over decades and have a depth to them that only happens when you laugh and cry, rejoice and suffer together.

In am sad that I had not made contact with Tim for several years. In a strange sense of personal irony I was surfing through Tim's Facebook page on Saturday and came very close to sending him an email message. I had heard through the grapevine that Tim had gone through a number of recent challenges and I was trying to piece together the recent events of his life through pictures and posts. I regret not reaching out. We all carry around a mythology about all the time we have left to do all those things that can be put off until tomorrow.

I wish there was still time for us to catch up on each other's lives. I am sad that there is not. But I am a "prisoner of hope" that we will be graciously given by God an eternity to carry forward the friendships that we often fail to make the time to be trustworthy to in these limited days.

Thanks for being a trustworthy friend, Tim. See you again soon.

Follow Up on Marathons and Anonymous Letters

Thought I'd give you a run down (pun intended) on the Marathon. I did finish the 26.2 miles. It took me just over six hours to finish. One of my highly supportive colleagues at APU heard my time and declared, "That's slow!"

It was kind of slow. I ran the first hour and half without much problem. That got me about eight miles in. Then I started walking for two minutes and running for eight minutes. That worked great for an hour and got me over half way home. Then I went to walking three and jogging seven. That didn't work quite as well. My legs got so tight and cramped that I had to walk the last seven miles.

The great news was that despite the predictions, it did not rain. The forecast was for showers all day. At the start I think 23,000 of the 24,000 runners were wearing ponchos. It became apparent quickly that it was going to be cold and windy but it wasn't going to rain. So much of the day was spent dodging 23,000 discarded ponchos.

I couldn't walk on Monday (or Tuesday) after the race. But I'm thankful to have finished and to have raised over $2,800 for Child SHARE.

A great deal of attention was paid to my blog about the anonymous letter I received a few days before the race. I had written and saved a draft of the blog a couple of days before I posted it so that I could sleep on it a couple of nights and make sure I wanted to post it. I had no idea that it would receive the response that it did. Within 24 hours after posting it Saturday morning it had received well over 1,000 hits.

I have received emails and comments from friends and pastors from quite literally all over the nation - most of them thanking me for being willing to be vulnerable and address the issues in the letter. The encouragement from people at PazNaz has been both humbling and overwhelming. The outpouring of support has been an amazing gift.

The most surprising gift was an unexpected one. In the unique providence of God through circumstances I can't reveal or explain, the person who wrote the letter and I connected. The opportunity to sit down and talk face to face was redemptive for both of us. This season reminds us that God's grace is always greater than our brokenness. And the meeting was a reminder that we really can be a community of reconciliation. I hope the situation has made us both better people.

Anyways, I'm walking much better this week. I'm looking forward to Holy Week and I am thankful for the grace of Christ and the community his grace is forming. 

Cue the Locusts

Pay attention, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to such-and-such a town. We will stay there a year, buying and selling, and making a profit." You don't really know about tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for only a short while before it vanishes. Here's what you ought to say: "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that."

- James 4:13-15

 

This last week has certainly been a wild one in the Pasadena area. Debbie and I have often commented that one of the reasons we like living in Southern California is because we seemingly get a different natural disaster (or human disaster like a riot) about once a year which forces all of our friends and family to get in contact with us to make sure we are okay. We have found that it's a good way to maintain long distance relationships.

The winds last Wednesday night into Thursday morning were simply awesome. Not in a skater sense of "that's awesome dude," but in the sense of truly forming a sense of overwhelming awe. Driving around and witnessing the destruction the winds caused around Monrovia, Sierra Madre, and Pasadena has been awe-inducing. Trees that have been standing longer than any of the currently living humans have been around fell to the winds with their deep and complex root systems now exposed for all to see.

This certainly wasn't the way those of us at PazNaz hoped to make the national news, but the destruction of the roof caused by what some speculate to have been 100 mph wind gusts or better was one of the most spectacular things I have ever seen. Long, heavy sheets of metal had been twisted into every conceivable shape and were scattered in no discernible pattern.

About 1:30am Thursday morning the three of us (and the dogs) with bedrooms at the back of the house were awakened by the flying debris hitting the windows and so we huddled together in the front of the house praying that the trees would stay up and the roof would stay put. In that moment I realized something critically important. At a very significant level we are all powerless in the face of greater powers. I had no way to stop the wind. No way to keep the trees up. No way to make the shingles on the roof stay in place. If the winds wanted to continue until everything clinging to land had been blown into the Pacific I suppose that it could. And there would be nothing available in any of our humanness to stop its force.

Call me Exodus obsessed, but I couldn't help but think about Pharaoh Thursday morning while I laid fearful in the dark. I couldn't help but think about Pharaoh with all of his power and wealth, Pharaoh with all of his mythology of universal control, huddling behind a wall in his palace powerless to stop another of the plagues sent by Yahweh through Moses. Apparently one of my staff members at church thought of Pharaoh also because as we were trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces at the church Thursday morning, one of them said, "It seemed so Apocalyptic last night that I felt like someone should say, 'Okay, stop the wind, cue the locusts.'"

Some of the apocalyptic talk came about because I have been preaching through Mark 13 during this Advent season. We are two weeks into Advent and I will admit that it has been a challenge. These days Advent has really become an extended celebration of Christmas filled with frankly sappy songs, stories, and movies about family, mistletoe, and gentle drifts of snow on the roof. I like all of those Hallmark-ish kind of things, but it has been really hard to figure out how to fit biblical texts about the desecrating sacrilege in the Temple, the moon turning to darkness, and the stars falling from the heavens around tinsel, baby Jesus, and cute little children dressed like shepherds and angels.

The advent of the Santa Ana winds may have saved my preaching this year. The season of Advent really is about being reminded that things that seem permanent - Rome, Caesar Augustus, Herod, taxes, Temples, over-populated cities, Black Fridays, Cyber-Mondays, BCS standings, stock market downturns, presidential politics, and continuing wars on terror - are not only temporal but are quietly being subverted by a kingdom that actually is eternal. The Temple becomes rubble, the moon turns to darkness, and the stars fall because another empire that believes itself to be eternal (an empire that drinks the same kool-aid as Pharaoh) is being replaced by a new heavens and a new earth.

So in a strange way I'm thankful for the Advent Santa Ana winds that blew away an awful lot of what seemed permanent in the San Gabriel Valley. It is an important reminder that we are very, very temporal and that we live most of our days living out Pharaoh's same myth of control. James is right. Our language should more often reflect what ought to be a deeper conviction. We more frequently ought to say: "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that."

I found myself on Thursday morning deeply thankful for God's mercy in not allowing the winds to keep blowing. But I also found myself more grateful for what I do have, grateful for the kingdom work I have been gifted with today, and grateful that I am ultimately free from the burdensome myth that I am ultimately the one that controls all the outcomes of my existence. 

It took ten plagues to try and teach Pharaoh that he was not in control. His hard heart never learned the lesson and so his mythology of over-blown self-importance came to an ugly and unfortunate end at the Red Sea. I'm sure by this time next week I too will be right back into my self-reliant mythology of control, but I am thankful for this moment of grace to try and break out of my Pharaoh-complex. But I'm sure it will be back soon. So, cue the locusts.

Not Knowing, but Believing

I have written this memoir in an attempt to understand myself, something that would be impossible without my friends. I have had a wonderful life because I have had wonderful friends. So this attempt to understand myself is not just about “me” but about the friends who have made me who I am. It is also about God – the god who has forced be to be who I am. Indeed, trying to figure out how I ended up being Stanley Hauerwas requires that I say how God figures into the story, and this is a frightening prospect. – Hannah’s Child

I have been reading Hannah’s Child the new memoir by Stanley Hauerwas. Stanley has probably been the most influential theologian and ethicist in my own development and was named by Time Magazine a few years ago “America’s Best Theologian.” His new book is about how God shaped a young boy raised in a dysfunctional Texas brick-layer’s home into a highly influential theologian and author who has spent decades teaching in places like Notre Dame and Duke Divinity School. I don’t know if I would recommend the book to everyone although I am enjoying it very much. Those not familiar with Stanley’s work probably won’t fully appreciate many of the references he makes, but the main issue (as it always is when introducing someone to Stanley) is that although he is as thoughtful and Christ-centered as any theologian I know he still talks and writes with the colorful language of a Texas brick-layer. So consider yourself warned.

The point of his memoir, however, is the way in which God’s providence worked to take him from relationship to relationship, from influence to influence, helping him to become who he is today as an instrument in God’s kingdom. The obvious effect of the book is to get the reader thinking about God’s providence in their own life. So as I have been reading I have been reflecting and giving thanks to God for his providential hand in my own life.

You don’t have to be a great psychologist to figure out that my reasons for pursuing ministry have to be deeply rooted in my family of origin, but the settling of that call happened, I believe, because I went to a youth conference in Mexico and one night rather than sit in the back (as I had been doing) my friend invited me to sit near the front so we could be close to a girl he was chasing. Sitting near the front, God got my attention and I responded to what I sensed to be his unique call on my life.

I’m not sure that I would have pursued a PhD in seminary if a friend hadn’t taken me to lunch and convinced me that I looked too young to be a senior pastor and that I ought to pursue more education so other doors in ministry would open and I could write books someday. Even then I doubt very seriously if I would have taken the leap into higher education if Debbie had not (against my protests) invited Dr. and Mrs. Richard Mouw over to our tiny little apartment for dinner while we were students at Fuller. At the time Rich (I still struggle to call him that) was the Provost and President-Elect at the seminary and over pizza that night he encouraged me to apply.

I certainly wouldn’t be where I am today if Dr. Steve Green hadn’t taken me to lunch (why is it that God’s best work occurs around meals?) and asked if I might be interested in being an intern with him and hang out doing ministry at PazNaz. It was life-changing to have a pastor and friend who would read people like Hauerwas with me and figure out how it applied to ministry.

I may not have ended up being a college professor if an adjunct hadn’t quit at APU the week before classes started, making them very desperate for someone to teach. My passion for the Old Testament arose in large part through seven years of daily conversations with my colleague Marty Michelson at SNU. God used a weekend trip to Dallas to get me to start thinking about being a senior pastor. A random but timely lunch with Scott Anderson opened the door for both of us to work together in ministry. And a lunch with friends from PazNaz at General Assembly in 2005 put my name on the search committee’s radar, which led to us coming back to Pasadena… The list of God’s good providential moments could go on and on.

Some of the moments that I now see as God’s leading were not fun at the time. If Notre Dame hadn’t lost my paperwork when I applied for their PhD program in ethics, I might be a very different kind of scholar than I am today. If the theology department at SNU hadn’t come under attack by some fundamentalists in the community then I may not have been tired and frustrated and open for God to do something new. If a couple of members at the church in Seattle I grew up in had been able to think about me as their potential pastor rather than just the teenager who used to run around the place, the road would have definitely been different. God works through our moments of questions and pain as well.

Thinking about providence and God’s leading always makes me think about Abraham. In July and August I will be preaching about the life, the faith, and the failings of Abraham. His story, like all of our stories, is not so much about what he accomplished as it is a story about God’s call upon him and his leading of Abraham. The writer of Hebrews says this about Abraham,

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going. (11:8)

It helps me to know that Abraham followed God but he had absolutely no idea where he was going. None of us really knows God’s ultimate purposes for us in his kingdom. At times we can look back and see how God has led us and the relationships and circumstances he has used to bring us where we are. But the truth is that he is never quite through with us. And so like Abraham we are called to believe and obey and walk with God, trusting that although we’re not quite sure where our story ends up, the God in whom we have put our trust knows where we are going and he will lead us.

Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright,

God leads His dear children along;

Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night,

God leads His dear children along.

 

Some through the waters, some through the flood,

Some through the fire, but all through the blood;

Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,

In the night season and all the day long.

APU School of Theology

Azusa Pacific University has invited me to become the dean of the APU School of Theology (both graduate and undergraduate schools). It has been a unique and interesting process to get to this point, but what started as a seemingly crazy conversation between myself and the search committee and administration has increasingly felt like providence.

Debbie and I will decide this week whether or not to accept the offer. Our desire to have God's wisdom in this decision. The fears are obvious: leading two significant organizations, limits of time and energy, carving out time for family, etc.

But the the benefits are also quite significant. This opportunity would give me personally the chance to lead in the two spheres I deeply love: the church and the academy. It would also give me the chance to try and bridge the unfortunate and unnecessary divide that often exists between the church and its institutions of higher learning. We love living here and we believe this opportunity creates the potential for longevity for our family to be able to stay in SoCal and get through the challenges of raising four kids who just keep getting older. It gives me a chance to take a salary reduction - saving the church some resources, etc.

But most importantly I hope it gives Debbie and I a chance to continue to expand the ministry God has given us for the last 20 years. I taught a class at APU this semester. This last week was the final week of class, so Thursday I had my students over to the house for lunch to review for the final exam. When they left Debbie said, "I forgot how much I love college students." My hope is that it gives us the chance to shape in a small way those who are preparing to lead the church in the future.

Thanks to so many who have already expressed their congratulations and blessings. Pray with us this week that God will give us wisdom and guidance.

My 10 Favorite Things to Do in SoCal

I got my first sunburn on my forehead today after sitting in my backyard which means summer is coming. There is not a bad month in SoCal, but I love the summer. It got me thinking about all the things I love to do here. I'm a little tired of theology, so here is a completely trivial top 10 list of the things I love to do in SoCal. Feel free to add your favorite things (for example since we live at the base of the mountains I really should have included hiking on the list, but I just don't take advantage of it enough).

Here's my top ten in reverse order:

10. Hanging out at The Grove. I can live the rest of my life without shopping malls but I do like cruising around in Old Town Pasadena and Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. But I totally love going to The Grove in Beverly Hills (even if we do have to take Sophie to the American Girl store everytime we go). the Grove has the coolest Apple store and Barnes and Noble around. I can spend the whole day eating at the Farmer's Market - I live for the english toffee. I also think its the best star gazing location in L.A. Rarely do we go there without seeing somebody who is at least medium famous.

9. Running the LA Marathon. I finished the marathon the last two years but I still haven't run a good race yet. Nevertheless, there is something totally cool about running with 25,000 people. This year the race started at Dodger Stadium and finished at the Santa Monica pier - great course. I need to train harder for 2011, but I hope to keep running the race. It's also a bonus to get to help raise some money for my friends at Child SHARE.

8. Show Shoots. I haven't been to a sit-com, talk-show, or game-show shoot in a while. But I miss the old-days when Deb was working at Warner Brothers and we were regulars at sit-com and pilot shoots. Its sort of a long night when you go because you have to laugh at the same scenes two or three times. But it is really cool to see "behind the curtain" to see how a show comes together. One of our top memories from the 90s was when Deb and I were seat-fillers at the Emmys.

7. Sporting Events. I obviously love to watch my kids play sports. Caleb has recently turned us into a swim family. But even without an NFL team in town, somewhere in the Southland there is a professional sporting event taking place. I prefer Dodger games, but the kids like the Angels. I'll go in a heartbeat to see the Kings or Ducks: whichever team is winning. And it is super fun to go see the Lakers (if you can get tickets) or even the Clippers. If Blake Griffin gets healthy, I'm ready to jump on the Clipper bandwagon. Maybe the most fun we've had at a game was last year when the boys and I went to an LA Galaxy playoff game. We were "this close" to Beckham.

6. San Diego. If you need to get away for a couple of days the primary short-range destinations are Palm Springs, Santa Barbara, Vegas, or San Diego. Nine times out of ten I pick San Diego. We love Balboa Park, the Zoo, Sea World, hanging out at Point Loma, and eating fish and chips at Anthony's Grotto.

5. Theatres. There are theatres everywhere, but we are kind of partial to seeing musicals at the Pantages and movies at the El Capitan. I love the organist who plays before the movie at the El Capitan. We went to see Enchanted there when it opened and the actor who played the prince (James Marsden) was sitting across the aisle from us with his family and a couple of cast members from X-Men. It was fun to watch someone watch themselves on the big screen. We also love going there with out of town friends and grabbing ice-cream next door to the soda parlor and ordering "Mickey's Magic Hat" (8 scoops of ice cream, at least one can of whipped cream and all the fixings).

4. Disneyland. So far we have been persistent passholders. The thing that makes Disneyland great is the way the park changes with the seasons. Being a passholder is nice because you can go for two or three hours and not feel like you have to squeeze every minute out of your time there. Our favorite time to go is from October through the end of December. There are many moments that I start day-dreaming about Disneyland fried chicken and pineapple soft-serve.

3. The Beach. My goal this summer is to learn to surf. I consider myself to be a world-class boogie boarder, but its time for me to get up on my feet. During the summer we try to hit the beach at least every other week. 50% of the US population lives within 50 miles of either coast. My goal is to someday move within 50 yards. Everybody has a favorite beach, ours is probably Manhattan. I love going to Venice because I like to walk the strand, eat, and look at all the unique (a nice way of saying wierd) people. But my wife usually freaks out at Venice. Last summer a school of dolphins swam by all but one day we went to the beach. Sometimes they come within twenty feet or so from where you are swimming. Apart from having to vacuum the sand out of the floor mats, I like everything about the beach.

2. The Rose Parade. Some longtime Pasadenans act like they could live without the parade, but I still love it. We've been spoiled the last four years because we've had friends or family living at the start of the parade route and so we've been able to go out late New Year's Eve and see the floats as they are lined up beneath the lights. I think its amazing to see a million people descend on the city each year and camp out all night. Pasadena has made a contract with God that it is almost always a Chamber of Commerce day on January 1st. A couple of years I've had tickets to the game as well. The world's best parade in the morning followed by "the grand-daddy of them all" footbal game in the afternoon is the perfect way to start every New Year.

1. The Hollywood Bowl. I know that at some level this makes me a nerd, but I think my favorite thing to do in SoCal is go to an LA Philharmonic concert at the Hollywood Bowl. Everyone brings a picnic dinner and kicks back and enjoys great music. I can usually only afford to sit in the middle somewhere but that's perfect because its right at the level where the HOLLYWOOD sign is visble just over the ridge. The weather is usually spectacular and the whole canyon just echoes with history. I hope I never move again, but if I do, I know that I'll sit on my porch on a Friday night and wish I were sitting at The Bowl, eating fancy sandwiches, and listening to John Williams directing his most famous movie scores.

Life is good.

Mosaic

My sister and brother-in-law pastor Seattle First Nazarene which is an old historic Naz church very close to the University District near downtown Seattle. Like many great churches in urban areas the church went into decades of the decline as the neighborhood radically changed. In the last several years, however, people have been moving back into the area and rebuilding the neighborhoods.

Mark and Christa have been there trying to lead a rebirth and revision for the church. The great challenge is how completely unchurched the people of Seattle - and in particular in the area around the church - are.

In order to reach the neighborhood, the church opened Mosaic - a coffee house that is open all week long and is funded by donations only. It has become an important place in the community for people of all kinds of backgrounds and faiths to come together. It was a great vision and is making a huge impact.

The link is to a recent article about Frank Chopp, the Washington State Speaker of the House. On the front page is a picture of Representative Chopp at Mosaic calling it his "surrogate office." Christa says he's in all the time. Cool stuff sis...

http://www.washingtonceo.com/home/story-display/article/312/when-chopp-s.html

My Great Labor Day Date

A friend gave us two great tickets to the Dodger game on Labor Day. Debbie and the boys were worn out because we had such a busy Sunday and Monday morning, but Sophie said she wanted to be my date to the game.

While she was getting ready to go to the game with me she told Debbie, "I'm going with Dad because I'm sure he's going to spoil me."

She got that right.

We had the greatest time ever. The seats were just a few rows behind the plate and she watched every pitch. We ate Dodger dogs, french fries, and peanuts. By the fourth inning we were stopping the ice cream guy too.

I don't know what you got to do on Labor Day, but I wouldn't have traded places with you. What a great date.