Roots

Visiting with a friend the other day set me wondering about my roots. Here I was in another continent having a meal with someone of African American descent and I, from Africa. What does this mean? Martin Luther the reformer asked the same question, what does this mean? when discussing and instructing on the Ten commandments, the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. By referencing Luther, I want to believe that our meeting was not accidental or in vain. obvious in the terms, African _American and African,is common roots of ancestry that my friend and I share . This knowledge, now so closely experienced in the sharing of a meal with my African -American friend cemented our friendship. However, it prompted me to want to intentionally understand who my neighbor is as experienced with my friend. In thinking about these things it became imperative for me to be intentional in doing the movement of mutual embrace which is open to the future even as it is open about the past in understanding present cross cultural friendships. And yet, the question, what does it mean ? might linger, but most certainly true is the knowledge that we'll "understand it better by and by."
I am humbled and honored to participate in knowing the wonderful people of this land, in knowing a dear friend from my roots.

Blitzen Trapper :: Furr

This past fall I remember a short chat with fellow student Ben about music and he recommended Blitzen Trapper. I finally picked it up and have been enjoying this January. This song, "Furr" is my favorite. Check out the video:



Also, check out this interview/live in studio on MPR::The Current

It's that precious time of the year when Middlers are about to discern internship and Seniors are about to discern assignment. Even Juniors aren't left out with CPE applications and decisions and Greek and Hebrew parsing swimming about in their psyche. Dates fill our minds and questions of vocation can swim about. I've been thinking about this song as of late and the worry of "making God a liar" looms large. I don't think that's what the song is about, but maybe this coming of age, growing up and finding one's place is part of it. Some sort of transfiguration or transformation; first naivete, second naivete...growth, progress, process.

The best thing I learned on internship is that process is no longer a bad word; the call to be a pastor, teacher, youth minister, church leader...is not met in one day, but over a lifetime. We will grow and change and develop; we are not the people we will be with experience, further knowledge, and yes, some dark nights of the soul...joys and frustrations...all part of the process. Okay, so we all know that, but, it's really good to hear that. First call is first call. Internship is internship. You get the point. You will hopefully get through both, and if not, well, you'll learn more about yourself in the process than the rest of us. Oh, becoming.

Lyrics:

Yeah, when I was only 17,
I could hear the angels whispering
So I droned into the words and wandered aimlessly about
Until I heard my mother shouting through the fog
It turned out to be the howling of a dog
Or a wolf to be exact, the sound sent shivers down my back
But I was drawn into the pack and before long
They allowed me to join in and sing their song
So from the cliffs and highest hill, yeah
We would gladly get our fill
Howling endlessly and shrilly at the dawn
And I lost the taste for judging right from wrong
For my flesh had turned to fur, yeah
And my thoughts, they surely were
Turned to instinct and obedience to God.

You can wear your fur
like a river on fire
But you better be sure
if you're makin' God a liar
I'm a rattlesnake, Babe,
I'm like fuel on fire
So if you're gonna' get made,
Don't be afraid of what you've learned

On the day that I turned 23,
I was curled up underneath a dogwood tree
When suddenly a girl with skin the color of a pearl
She wandered aimlessly, but she didn't seem to see
She was listenin' for the angels just like me
So I stood and looked about
I brushed the leaves off of my snout
And then I heard my mother shouting through the trees
You should have seen that girl go shaky at the knees
So I took her by the arm
We settled down upon a farm
And raised our children up as gently as you please.

And now my fur has turned to skin
And I've been quickly ushered in
To a world that I confess I do not know
But I still dream of running careless through the snow
An' through the howlin' winds that blow,
Across the ancient distant flow,
It fill our bodies up like water till we know.

You can wear your fur
Like a river on fire
But you better be sure
If you're makin' God a liar
I'm a rattlesnake, Babe,
I'm like fuel on fire
So if you're gonna' get made,
Don't be afraid of what you've learned

godly facial hair

Anna: my dad went to North Central, back when he and my mom were AG. He was a real pioneer, but I can't remember if it was because he was clean shaven and was supposed to have a beard or if he had a beard and was supposed ot be clean shaven.

Jeni: I bet it was because he had a beard.

Anna: Well, it changes every generation.

Jeni: really?

Anna: I guess

Jeni: huh...

Colin: (excitedly) are you saying that God doesn't care about facial hair? If God doesn't care about facial hair, what else would God care about?!

Anna: God only cares if you're a Levitical Priest

Jeni: or a Nazerene

Anna: I love me some facial hair.

Jeni: I think I'll live blog about this. Talk more about godly facial hair.

Anna: I don't think I have anything else.

Jeni: ponders an earlier conversation in the evening re: neck beards. FYI neck beards are never ever to be considered as godly facial hair or handsome (though exceptions are made if the neck beard is connected to a face beard as opposed to just a neck beard; and for those with very sensitive skin)

Another Friday night at Seminary.

New Orleans Bound

A significant part of the learning in the Children, Youth, and Family Ministry program at Luther happens outside of the classroom.

Coursework + Context + Community = Learning here.

Part of this learning happens well outside the classroom in events like the ELCA Youth Ministry Network Extravaganza. 2nd year students in the CYF program are given a stipend to attend the yearly gathering. This year takes us to New Orleans! This is my first Extravaganza, though not my first large youth ministry conference. It has been an exciting day of traveling, exploring Bourbon street for dinner, large group worship, introductions, meeting new people, seeing old friends, and connecting faces with names (Oh yeah, I met you last summer at Sugar Creek Bible Camp…etc.)

It is a wonderful adventure!

home base :: not exactly a seminary classroom...

CAPTION: THE WINDOW FRAME NEXT TO MY FAVORITE STUDY SPOT IN AUSTIN. NOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU FIND IN THE SEMINARY CLASSROOM...

Whew. It has been a while. Sorry. My three week journey across the country and back again for JTerm and conferences is now over, I'm well rested and adjusting to a new life rhythm. As a DL student, I work full time for a mission development - The Netzer Co-Op - where I serve as one of two "Curators." Together my friend Brianna and I faciliate a community that re-imagining, experimenting and failing. This is the context that my seminary studies are rooted in. This journey is the lab to my theology, my study of the scriptures/languages, history and ministry leadership.

This week I have been getting used to my new workspace. The Co-Op moved its offices to Austin, Texas (5o miles from where I live in Seguin) and so I commute three days a week there. When it is time for me to study, I usually hit Spiderhouse Coffeehouse, just a block from our location. At my favorite booth there I am profoundly reminded of my cultural context. This context is skeptical of God at best.

What does it mean to do theological education [distributed] from this place?

How does this bi-vocational calling: mission developer / student demand that I proclaim a loving, God - no really a God who loves all creation and yearns for its transformation?

How might this place and this context transform me?

What's Good?

I recommend God Pause today. Pastor Cunningham tapped into a world of prayer and provided some inspiring thoughts. She addressed the ACTS method of prayer and looked at Psalm 111. She got me thinking about prayer myself. I have used the ACTS method myself for many years and it has kept my heart moving. You can read her post here.

So, prayer, there are many reasons for it. I pray out of habit, out of need, out of fear, and more rarely from a joyful place. Perhaps I have allowed the cynicism of an age to descend upon me, or perhaps I learned to pray in one way, forgetting that there are others. I am cynical and suspicious though, and thus I suspect that in some way I have let humiliation slip in, disguised as humility.

Do I believe that God needs to feel needed? Is that why I ask for his presence? Do I think that I am powerless? I know that I am not. God has given us many gifts, for which we should feel blessed. God is a father who rejoices in his children. He celebrates us. Why should we be humiliated? Even when things seem to be no good we should remember to celebrate what we have been given, what we have done, and what we will do before God.

There is more to be joyful for than we suspect and it is easier to see what's bad. So, what's good?

Wait, Where Do You Go to School?

This weekend I had the opportunity to reunite with my old coterie at a gathering. In the case of this event—some individuals took the opportunity to lighten their spirits with spirits. I was an observer. In my experience, these kinds of gatherings arouse our peers (both Christian and secular alike) to loosen their tongues about the kinds of things that we study in seminary. This, of course, is not the only opportunity for this to happen. Revealing your vocation to others will open up a whole can of theological or philosophical worms. It seems that when someone learns that you are a seminarian they like to probe you with any and all of their musings about faith. You might even find yourself in circumstances where someone tries to put you to the test. After all, our vocation piques the interests of colleagues, friends, family, and strangers alike. This was an all too familiar scenario in which I found myself this weekend. I was run through a gauntlet of bombastic (and sometimes trivial) “Christian” questions: some answerable—others not.

As a Christian leader or representative you will need to be prepared for these situations. We sometimes have inherent access to the trust of others—and we should appropriately open our ears and hearts when those around us “spill the beans” so to speak. The most important morsel of advice I can give you is that it’s OK to not know everything. Complacency doesn’t have its place with things as big as God. As I have matured I have found that there are things that no amount of education will make comprehensible to the human mind. I would wager that everyone has an interesting story of faith—from the most pious Christian to the most incredulous atheist. Their life experiences have either been shaped by faith or have shaped their faith. If you’re lucky enough you might learn a thing or two from those who are willing to share their stories. Although you will most certainly not always have an answer to the big perennial questions about faith, the inner workings of the universe, and God—you can at least lend them an ear.

-Dan

New Life

In the midst of the busy-ness of the J-Term classes, it has been possible for me to take time off and attend to other equally important matters of life. Recently, I happily took time off to be with a friend and colleague who, had given birth to a baby boy. Carrying her infant baby in my arms, I could not help but marvel at the wonder of God's creation of us human beings. The baby's little hands, feet, nose, ears, eyes, mouth turned my moments into an act of worship and praise of the Creator-God. It was such a blessing for me to be reminded of the "coming forth" of a human being formed in God's image. During these special moments with the infant baby, my awareness of "how babies are biologically formed" disappeared and the mystery of creation lay starkly in my arms. As the Psalmist, who in reverence, worship, and honor, I praised the Creator-God who"formed my inward parts and, knit me together in my mother's womb." I was filled with gratefulness and in thanking God, knew that I was privileged to be witness to this wonder of creation in the infant child I held in my arms. As an afterthought, I mused at how privileges can be closely associated with responsibilities.
And so, as I went about in my friend's house helping out with this and that, my heart was humbled and glad at the possibility of my service/ministry (servant leadership?) outside of Luther upon completion of my studies.

All Things Go

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again - Seminary is an unstable place.

This weekend I had to say goodbye to one of my close friends at Seminary. He is headed to Chicago for the SCUPE program Chase has written about the last few weeks. While Luther Seminary offers an urban ministry degree, those studying urban ministry have to leave for Berkeley, Chicago, Atlanta or other cities to take classes in their specialty (which is kind of disappointing). Needless to say, with a new semester my friend has to leave Minnesota to do an urban ministry internship and classes through SCUPE in Chicago.

The community perpetually changes and we grieve the moving on of those we love. I'm trying to remember that with newness comes opportunity - new students start in January and February. So too, am I thankful for the many wonderful people brought together in one place to learn and be in community with each other. What a blessing!

Every semester is a new year at seminary. Here we go again!

Soccer at the Sem: Heretics 3, other team 1

We are now 2-1 on the season and playing like an almost well-oiled team. We're doing the J-Term shuffle with fielding a team. JD is in LA, Catie is in Holland, Scott is in New Orleans, Beth is in Guatemala...we're a pretty jet-set team.

Tonight's hero was none other than Justin "Humble Pie" Ridley, scoring two goals and playing some awesome midfield. He is now dubbed "humble pie" not because he has to eat it, but he is so so humble. I suppose that if he read this he might be embarrassed. Anyhow, his soccer playing skills deserve a bravo for tonight's game. Robert scored the insurance goal and we buckled down on defense to claim the victory.

As always we celebrated at Mannings, our generous sponsor where we witnesses a 12 year old boy eat a cheeseburger that was 12 ounces; actually bigger than his face. It's hard work to be a fan. Next week we play at 4:30. Though it is Super Bowl Sunday, kick-off for the big game isn't until 5:30, which leaves you enough time to come to the game and head home to watch the big game. See you there?

Flu

I’ve been tutoring a second grader for about two weeks now. It’s been a great eye opener about how little kids think and learn. They are truly sponges. If you happen to be doing youth and family ministry studies you should definitely keep this in mind. This “sponginess” doesn’t just extend to learning—but the flu as well! Last night I worked with my tutee. We’ve been working on a diorama from one of the Curious George books. It just so happened that the little guy was pulled from school early because he had the stomach flu. It turns out that his mom still wanted him to study. Yesterday morning my fiancé fell ill to the flu. There’s a pretty good chance that I’ll have it come tomorrow because I’ve been taking care of her today. Yikes. I haven’t had the flu (the non- “bottle flu” kind) since college! I’m praying that I don’t get it. In other news—January term came to its official close. I’m still finishing one last aspect of my hypothetical “Introduction to the Bible” class. All of my extra work is due on February 2. Consequently, I better get to work on my Habakkuk bible study (try to say that five times fast)!

-Dan

fifteen-two, fifteen-four, a pair for six and a run of three makes nine.

I'm not sure when I learned how to play cribbage, but I know who taught it to me: my Grandma. I must have been old enough to just hold the cards in my small hands. Grandma would shuffle and help me count my points. I would have to pick which cards to place into the crib (but could always ask for advice) and would have to do my best to count points, trying to make 15 and pairs and runs and 31, or at least to try to get the last card. Once our cards were laid, I tried to pick out the fifteen for twos and pairs and runs and double runs, but always had help. I've had many 19 hands and no 29 hands over the years and learned from Grandma to never, ever ever in a million years to throw a seven into an opponents crib.

I consider myself a pretty good cribbage player, but I know it's all about the hand you're dealt. Sometimes you skunk and sometimes you get skunked. Sometimes you make it to the finish in 12 hands, sometimes 20. Though skill is essential (in what you throw into the crib and how you play your hand), it's all about the cards you're dealt. It seemed to be the lesson my Grandma was telling me: play the hand you're dealt and do your best. You can make up for a stinker hand and you can blow the best possible hand.

Over Christmas my Grandma died. She was 89 and lived a good life. She was my last and closest grandparent and she loved me and I loved her. We celebrated her life and commended her body into God's hands on the first of this month, the first day of the new year. We grandkids got to collect a few of her things. I took her two homer hankies from the World Series of 1987 and 1991. She was an avid Twins fan. I also got to take the cribbage board we all played on.

Last night was Colin's and my 5th month anniversary. Not significant enough for a date (especially after a great honeymoon in Hawaii), we stayed home, watched TV over the internet and played about 12 games of cribbage. Colin won them all. He even skunked me once. I've never lost so badly, except to my dad and my grandma. I guess the board isn't a good one for me, but I'd rather lose than play on any other. That board holds the memories of my childhood and even more importantly, memories of love and my Grandma.

the countdown

the countdown has begun. To what, you may ask?

To the new semester. We're a little under 2.5 weeks away from my last semester at seminary. I've got the best line-up possible: Revelation; John; Psalms; Singleness, Marriage and Family; History; and, last mentioned but most excited about: Life Together and Life Passages with new professor of worship, Dirk Lange. I could get away with taking only 3 courses, but the classes offered this semester are too darn great.

To assignment. The seniors ready for assignment will be thusly assigned beginning in February. Bishops will meet, pray and discern where our greatest gifts will meet the church's and the world's deepest needs. Ah, vocation. We named our preferences in December, but I just want to bloom where I'm planted; I'd just like a good fit.

To the Grand Canyon. You'd think that after a great trip to Hawaii, it would be time to hang up the travel shoes. Not so. A free frequent-flyer ticket, friends and family beckon me to the southwest for some hiking and resting in late April. I will have to miss some of the above mentioned awesome classes, but I think I can deal with that. I promise to learn a lot while I'm away.

To Graduation. Okay, so I'm trying to avoid the cliche senioritis. I think with my great Spring Schedule I'll stay away from that dreaded reality of waiting to leave. I like it here enough to not start my countdown until Easter, I hope.

What are you counting down to and what are you waiting for? (excuse the misplaced prepositions).

I Was There

Well, my yesterday began at 3:45 AM with a quick layering of clothing and a hop on a train. Included in my DC adventure were many squeals, exclamations of "YAY!", tears of joy and standing in solidarity with 2 million other Americans - possibly the most to ever gather at the capital.

It was quite the experience to be part of a gathering of people that huge. People united in support of a country they love and a new leader. People from all over the country of every age, creed, & color stood together in community. It was indeed a blessing and an honor to be there waving my flag.

Late Night Musings

I’ve got a feeling that I’m not the only seminarian that has felt insufficient at one point or another in his or her career as a student. Tonight, I’ve been tossing and turning in my bed for about two hours. (Not a good thing!) This is somewhat problematic considering that I need to be at North Central University at 7:00 am to assist a colleague as his teaching assistant.

As I lay in bed tonight I can’t help but think of my greatest fear: What if I don’t get into a PHD program? It’s a few years into the future—but it often weighs heavily on my mind. Since I’ve been restless I’ve spend the last hour or so visiting some of the “top flight” school admission pages. I find myself visiting these websites when I need a "reality check." Do I measure up? It looks like I “kind of” do. I still need to take the Devil's Handmaiden aka the GRE. It’s easy to feel inferior when you have working knowledge of four languages when an institution wants you to have five—or six—or seven (good grief!). It’s also easy to feel this way when you look at the admissions count for previous years. One school boasted that it netted six hundred and eighty some applicants to their divinity school and accepted a paltry six. Those odds aren’t too great. I take heart, however, knowing that Luther Seminary provides us with accredited and noteworthy research and scholarship skills that will more than likely carry many of us into future education programs. It's also important to note that you don't have ANY chance of getting into a program if you don't try. I suppose all that we can do as students is make the absolute best of the institution where we are learning—and hope that future institutions will give us a shot. I plan on using this semester as a way of showcasing my skills to their full potential with Church, school, and “work.” Shouldn't every semester be like that though?

-Dan