harbarger theory: Persistence is a good thing

A while back, our son Nate and I started reading the Spenser series of books by Robert B Parker.  Spenser (no first name ever divulged!) is a wise-cracking, well-read, tough guy Private Detective from Boston whose longtime "main squeeze" is Susan, a Cambridge-based Psychologist and best friend is a guy who does pretty sketchy and violent things named "Hawk" and whose dog (who he shares custody with Susan) is a German Short-Hair Pointer named "Pearl" (both of them).  The pic above is a vintage shot from the TV show "Spenser For Hire" with Robert Ulrich as Spenser and Avery Brooks as Hawk.  Good casting!!

I'm not sure when and if Nate quit reading the series, but I read the whole cycle from first book to last book (38 in all, plus a Christmas book published posthumously).  I persisted!  It was fun reading a series from germination to termination.  To watch the progression of the characters, the addition, subtraction and recalling of ancillary characters and just to enjoy the well-known and much-hoped-for snappy dialogue among the characters was a joy!

Parker (the author) has a knack for writing wry, snappy dialogue and, indeed, it is the dialogue and relative brief lengths of the books that make these into easily digestible nuggets of literature.  A lot of fun with good dialogue, characters and action.  Thoroughly enjoyable.

However, as I have pondered finishing this long cycle of books, I have realized a few things. 

 First, I am blessed to live in an age where I can simply call up books on my Nook and read them in whatever sequence I want to!  After all, I have probably read all the Alex Cross detective novels by James Patterson, but in a willy-nilly order because I picked them up when I found them, not in a systemized way.  It's fun to read the books in sequence.  I liked it!

Second, I pondered what makes a man tough.  While Spenser never shies away from a fight and almost always wins the fight, he is, at the same time, sentimental, fashion-conscious, a great cook and a tender romantic.  Maybe, indeed, it's his fully developed psyche that makes him a tough guy.  Maybe BECAUSE he's comfortable just being himself ... and that includes sentimentality, fashion consciousness, culinary prowess and romanticism ... that he is a tough guy.  And winning fist fights is a good bonus.  I think so.  I have often posited that a REAL man is Tough, Tender and True.  A REAL man is a man who can take it, no matter what happens.  A REAL man is tender with those who need tenderness.  A REAL man is true to those to whom he has made promises.  

Third, I have considered the meaning of long-term love and honest friendships.  Spenser and Susan tried living together and realized that it would not work.  They considered children and decided it was not a good thing with their lives (especially his).  They were considering marriage when Mr Parker passed away (no resolution there!).  But, except for a notable wandering off the farm experience for both of them, they were faithful to each other (even if Spenser got an offer in nearly every book!).  And, it was that relationship, the honesty, vulnerability and transparency that offers us a clear example of what a great marriage could be.  (I know, I know ... it's a novel and therefore easy to have a great relationship ... but, still ...)  

Also, Spenser's relationship with Hawk (as well as Vinnie, Tedy Sapp, Chollo, Bernard J Fortunato and even Bobby Horse) was quirky and deep.  All Spenser had to do is ask and these hardened, violent, criminally inclined men would drop what they were doing and help.  And Spenser would do the same.  I don't know how other folks define great friendships, but one of my barometers is that a great friend is someone who takes your calls and will help you (or you help them) at a moment's notice ... even if it costs them something.  Good friends do that for each other.

As we move through life, it seems to me that we need to cultivate the kind of loving relationships that allow us to be honest, vulnerable and transparent with each and other and be rewarded with a deeper and more complex and nuanced relationship.  It seems to me that we need to have friends upon whom we can count ... no matter what happens.  They know us well and like us in spite of it.  And they will go to the mat for us ... with us ... and we for and with them.  And most of all, we need to be so comfortable with ourselves that we can be tough, tender and true each and everyday.  We need to be that person as our default, not as our aspiration!

Thanks Spenser!  Thanks to you, Robert B Parker!  I've enjoyed the ride!

harbarger theory: persistence is a good thing

harbarger theory: 

it's always a good thing to unpack your boxes

In late July, Wendy and I moved to a new/old place to continue our itinerant ministry among another collection of God's people.  As much as I hate moving ... and hate leaving people I love ... it's been a good move.  A vibrant church, great people, impressive leaders, an excellent staff with which to share ministry.  As I said, it's been a good move!

But, a LOONG time ago, I realized a huge truth.  When you move, unpack your boxes.  I mean, not just get junk out of cardboard rectangular cubes, but unpack your boxes emotionally & metaphysically, too.  Move in to wherever you are sent.  Become a native as soon as possible.

Back in 1999 (yep, in the last century!!), we moved to New Lexington, Ohio in Perry County.  (Yeah, I know you don't know where that is.  Just look it up on Google Maps!)  Since my name begins with an "H," I change my automobile registration in June, so when I did, I had them registered in New Lex.  That was back in the days of the gold license plates with the county name stickers on the bottom.  So, when I moved into New Lex, I already had Perry County plates on my cars.  I was moving in.

Yesterday, I finished moving into my Church Office.  I got the rest of my pictures and such unpacked and hung on my walls and even installed a cord hole (with a nifty cord grommet) on my desk so that there wasn't a visible rat's nest of cords by my desk.  I moved in.  It felt good.

Then, I announced last night at Administrative Board that I planned to be here until I retire and I'm burning my boxes.  Although, I'm not a fan of the whole Conquistador history and the subjugation of native peoples and the like, it remains an amazing leadership story about Cortes.  Instead of leaving his impressive fleet of ocean-sailing ships in the harbor, Cortes decided that his men (the afore mentioned Conquistadores), needed motivation to complete the task, so he burned his ships to the waterline and sunk them.  There was no going back to Spain.  The task was only to move ahead, never back.

I think that as I move into my ministry, I need to make the assumption that I will be here forever, so I need to move in and become a ... Monrovian? Monroe-oid? Monroan? ... full resident of Monroe.  I need to unpack, move in and be a part of a community.  Go to football games.  Eat at restaurants.  Know folks.  Be known to folks.  You know ... move in.

Not that I'm a Calvinist or a Neo-Calvinisty (shudder), but I believe enough in the sovereignty of God that I believe that where I am (or where you are) is where I am (you are) supposed to be and THEREFORE, I am (you are) to move in and to do ministry right there, right now.

This principle became clear to me waaaaay back at the Drew University Theological School, where I went to seminary.  Some of my classmates were just going through the motions.  I believe their metaphor was "jumping through the hoops."  I didn't.  I believed enough in the sovereignty of God that I believed that I had something to learn and something to offer.  I moved into Drew and it became my home as I squeezed my 3 years of seminary into ... 4.  

I have done that ever since.  I have moved in.  Wherever I am becomes my home.  Wherever I am, I have something to learn and something to offer.  I dig into relationships with folks.  I buy clothes in the school colors.  I find out what is special there and celebrate it.  I become a part of the culture where God has sent me.

To be honest, I have given away most of my box

es (more useful than burning them) and am willing to give away the rest.  I am here until God sends me elsewhere (and I hope that's after my retirement in 10-15 years!!).  But, until God changes my calling, I am here, lock, stock and barrel.  All in.  All.  IN!!

Sometimes I wonder if we clergy struggle in our appointments because we don't unpack our boxes.  We hold onto where we used to be ... or would rather be ... or hope to be.  Maybe, in our hoping for the other, we miss the incredible blessings of the right here and right now.  Maybe not, but I still wonder and I will stay moved in, by golly!  

And, by the way ... I HATE moving!!!  And I hate boxes.

harbarger theory: 

it's always a good thing to unpack your boxes

  harbarger theory: faith is messy.  life is, too.

Among most of us, there is a indefatigable need to make our lives simpler and less complicated.  Much less complicated.  I suspect that is part of what makes us civilized ... at least as much as most of us are!  

However, as someone who has the amazing opportunity to "look under the hood" of other folks' lives, I am here to tell you that everybody's lives are messy.  To be honest, I think that's the way life is supposed to be.  Life is supposed to be messy and we are supposed to try to sorta tidy it up a bit.  I think that's what living the good life is about ... especially when we can ALSO enjoy the messy parts, as well!!

As I read books about Church Life (surprised you there, eh?  I really do read those books!), I find that most of the authors think that they can develop a system in their church/my church/your church where folks' faithlives will have order, purpose and follow Step 1 to Step 2 to Step 3 to Nirvana or Mt Olympus or Heaven or wherever.  Poppycock, I say!  Poppycock!

Just as soon as I get my faith going in a straight line and follow all the road signs, things go kablooey at home or with the kids or with a debt or whatever.  While I don't believe that "Nature prefers entropy (or disorder, as it used to be defined)," I also don't believe that Nature (or God) prefers things to be always neat and tidy.  I believe that God likes things to have some spontaneity and surprise and struggle and delight.

You see, struggle allows us to become stronger.  That's the way we get stronger.  We struggle to lift a heavy barbell or walk 10 miles or swim a mile.  When we do that enough, we get stronger.  Strength is a good thing.  We all need lots and lots of all kinds of strength!

Spontaneity and surprise are what makes us laugh and are what produce joy.  When we see that magnificent sunset (and I've heard sunrises are nice, as well!), we clap, we find delight in the riot of colors.  When we come across a field of wildflowers, we marvel at the glory of nature.  When we stumble upon an alpine lake and see the mountain across the way reflected in it, we are brought to silence.  These are the gifts of spontaneity and surprise.  

These the UNtidy and UNneat things in our lives that make us better and feed our souls.  Even the struggles feed us by making us better and stronger, don't they?  

So, as we develop systems for folks to grow in their faith, let us allow for the messiness of faith and life in them.  Let there be some elasticity in how we experience the presence of God and how we respond to the slings and arrows of life.  Sometimes, we get ticked off (didn't Moses?), sometimes we are cowardly (didn't Peter?), sometimes we rise to the occasion (didn't Shadrack, Meshack and Off-to-bed-we-go?).  But, in the end, even the wrong response is not necessarily a faithkiller.  Sometimes, even the wrong responses become touchstone events in our lives that allow us to make quantum leaps in our faith.

So, give yourself a break.  Allow yourself to have messy parts of your faith.  Allow yourself to have messy parts of your life.  Allow yourself to simply seek the presence of God on a consistent basis and you ... will ... get ... there.

And I promise to jump into the messiness with you.  As the inimitable Red Green is want to say, as he is tying a fishing fly, "We're all in this together!"

harbarger theory: faith is messy. life is, too!