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Baby, It’s Cold Outside!

Went walking around Den Haag today. I waited until the temperature reached a high of 7°C/45°F before venturing outside. That was 15h people! A whopping 2 hours before it gets dark. Did I mention that the sun only comes up after 8h in the morning?

I love walking around the city and observing the great architecture, people and the kids who seem to be impervious to the cold. This will be my first really cold Christmas season this year and it is taking some getting used to. One great thing is that all the Christmas Shopping is outdoors on the market high streets so the streets are all decorated nicely. It is really festive and joyful.

I stopped for a warm drink in a local coffee shop and watched people for a while. I was inspired to write about a man's struggle with the world that is racing around him while he struggles with his aging body to stand. Only a rough sketch but I hope to make it into a short story.

Today the 13thFLOOR team arrives for their show on Friday at the Hilversum International School in Amsterdam. I am excited to see the team and hear about their journey so far as I will spend the weekend in the city with them. We will brave the cold and rain together.

Familiar but different!

Today I rode around some of my old haunts in Den Haag and it was a surreal experience. The last time I was here was with Kelley for some meetings so I did not really have time to go out and visit some of the places that I would spend time visiting when I was here before with Christian Associates.

I went for a ride past one of the squares and came across a restaurant that had amazing BBQ and that says a lot considering I was taken to the place by Texans! I was introduced by my good friends the Strauss’. They were such a large part of my experiences in Den Haag and are some of the most generous and caring people I know. I felt a twinge of sadness knowing that they were no longer live here, and some how it felt wrong to visit the place with out their company, even though I was feeling a bit peckish at the time.

After some errands I made my way through Haagse Bos, the park that holds the Queen’s house. It still holds a magical quality for me as I drink in the luscious greens and moss. I used to stay across the street from this forest and walk its paths daily. It still rejuvenated me as it would then. I love the way the tree canopy hugs itself around you while you are stunned by the emerald green moss that dances across the water ways that twist their way though the park. It is a beauty that I always love to return to. I realize how much I have missed being close to the recreational core of myself and how far from it I have been in recent years due to location, work and lack of optimal situations. Although it was a crashing reality that confronted me, it was a loving nudge from within that I need to restore this again in my life.

I shot down a main street and turned onto Thersiastraat, where I did most of my daily shopping when in town. Most of the shops were still there and a few had changed hands. I received warm welcomes from old friends at the hair salon and the Turkish restaurant. It was funny to hear the variations of my name that they could recall and I am sure they chucked at me as I tried to remember the Dutch that had escaped me. Exchanging stories of our past days since we met last made me realize how much time had escaped me.

My last stop was my old office 249 Bezuidenhoutsweg - for some reason that address is indelible in my memory. I parked the bike and rang the bell for the first time in many years and was let in by a confused Kevin, but soon saw familiar faces that were surprised by my unannounced visit. It was good to see Al and hear about his upcoming wedding to a colleague and meet her for the first time. I got a quick glimpse of Rogier and hope to spend some time with him and his family before I leave the country. The office had been rearranged and redecorated. As I looked around so much was different and changed since I last walked these halls, but then again some things were still the same, like Al’s office and Rogier’s focus.

Today was very nostalgic and sweet. In a way it was a homecoming, a completion of the circle that solidified my love for the European continent. Although it was nice to visit this place again I also know that it is what once was and can not be duplicated. It is always good to be reminded of where you come from and take a peak at the how you have grown and remember what you must take with you in the moment. Otherwise what is meant to be a sweet memory can easily turn sour if we choose to hold tightly to the past.

Obedient Creativity?

Last night I was at a home group of my friends, Andrew and Belinda Perriman where we wrestled with the idea of new creation. What does that mean in the context of the Bible and in life today. Andrew conncected us to the echoing language of creation’s blessings and mandates thoughout Genesis. It seems that God himself has challenged mankind to be blessed, care for the earth, multiply and spread out. In the story of Genesis we see how man failed at this miserably, each time tripping over the need to make a name for itself and defying the blessings of God and in effect inviting the destruction of creations beauty and ongoing process. Each time God would start over and reitterate that promise to mankind through, Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham and though the foresight of Isiah who proclaimed Emmanuel’s coming. The new testement is also rich with the metaphoric language of creation calling us a “new creation” and foretelling of God’s city coming to reside on earth. It was a facinating concept and I am sure that I do it little justice here.

But it got me thinking. What if creatvity is the outcome of obedience? What if being made in His image is mostly reflected in our ability to trust in where He leads us and in that leading it frees us to be creative. Stagnation and hording are the enemies of creativity, because they contain what has already been. Innovation is the outcome of excellence in the basics. You become a virtuoso through hours of practice, most of which is rudementary and basic. As you hone your skills with scales and rhythms, you can take risks that produce something other and beautiful, but only after you have mastered the primary notes. Could there be a lesson in this we could learn about how we lead lives of spirituality individually and corporately. Could this more importantly outflow to rest of the world and stir something innovative, other and valuable?

What if everything boils down to this tenuous relationship between obedience and the divine other being birth in creativity? It might have us hold loosely to that which is now, and eagerly anticipate what is does not yet exsist all based upon how I live in obedience now. Then the past is nothing more than what we can learn from to move forward and not an anchor to hold us back or disqualify, because there is the cahnce for renewal, rebirth, and regeneration that comes forth within the divine spark of creativity.

So I have to ask the question, What if creativity was the ultimate outcome of obedience?

Categorically Baffled

Black, 5’7, INFJ, D/S, 2 who presents as a 4, 90, female, African-American. And the list just goes on and on. Even if I were to offer you the results of every single test I have taken and listed every category or stereotype I could conjure that might label me, you would not claim to know me. So why do we think that we actually can sum up a person’s behavioral motives by smacking a label on people based on our cursory knowledge of some random stereotype or test (that took years to hone mind you)?

It seems to me like just another excuse not to know anyone deeply. Tell me if this is familiar, you share something about yourself that is revealing and the person, smiles knowingly, laughs, then sings out “You must be an F?”Or some other alphabetical stamp. Then this person takes the posture of addressing you as some case study that needs to be solved. In that moment, I am stumped. I think to myself, is that all you have to say? Could you be anymore halting in what could be intimacy? Now I know that these categories are tools to help you understand and relate with others better, but I think we have moved past their intended usefulness onto something that has become pejorative and stereotypical. I have a name and experiences I would like to share with you and enter into a dialog that can lead to a deeper knowing and now I feel stopped dead in my tracks because you think that you know so much about me that you can predict my motives and thoughts. If I refute your armchair diagnosis then I am just acting out some negative manifestation of your prescribed category and what I share is dismissed. It is frustrating!

It seems these test results in popular culture are like any other stereotype. Stereotypes seem to be descriptions used to globally define something so that there is not need for further investigation, explanation or understanding. If a person looks at you and says, “Oh your White and from Orange County so you must be a republican and drive a SUV,” you’d be a little offended wouldn’t you? Even though the statistics may be in favor of such a statement or correct in your case, aren’t you put off because you think that you are more than such a small label?

What if we came back to the core of what these test were designed for, to foster deeper relationship and understanding of the subject, not as a way to objectify and define. If you notice that someone has D traits from the DISC test, wouldn’t it be more inviting to say to the person, I notice that you have strong convictions, do you find it easy to make decisions? And then you wait quietly for the reply. It invites more freedom in the conversation and leaves room for discussion. Just a thought, what do you think?

Meeting Isabella

Zambujal de Baixo, in the hills above Sesimbra was my first wandering destination of my sabbatical. Sesimbra is idyllic in views as it is a peninsular beach town nestled in the heart of a one of Portugal’s national forest. Because it is away from most of well traveled tourist spots you have a chance to peak into the daily lives in Portuguese culture. The people are very friendly and treat each other as a collective family. It was also a challenge because no one spoke more than a few sparse words of English. I became know as “Niña” in town by most of the people at the morning fish and produce markets. I am sure that I was comic relief to most as I crudely communicated in hand motions and Spanish.

On my second trip to town, I decided to walk around the local shops before heading back home. I walked into the local haberdashery to see if they sold knitting needles and handmade yarns. The shopkeeper was on the phone as I came in and greeted her. I could tell that this conversation was especially intense and even though she smiled my way as I entered, she was involved with something that was causing her incredible pain. When I looked into her face I could see her struggling to hold back tears and her voice’s timbre was elevated and constricted. Something was very wrong.

I knew that helping a customer at this point was the last things she needed, especially one that would require extra effort to cross the language barrier. But I could not leave either. I needed to stay there – so I waited until she hung up the phone. As she put the phone down, she turned her back to me and I watched her wipe the small collection of tears from the corners of her eyes. As she prepared herself to face me, I summoned all the Spanish I could recall and made a decision to disregard how lame I might sound with mispronunciations and bad grammar because I really felt I needed to speak with this woman. Eventually, she sighed deeply as her final resignation before donning a plastered smile to face the insistent customer in her store.

I swallowed my shame, immediately took her hand and asked her what was wrong. She paused for a moment and looked at her hand in mine, then looked into my eyes as if she was searching for something. She must have found it because she proceeded to tell me her doctor just told that she has breast cancer and was going to have a double mastectomy. Then the tears came. I thought of a million things I wish I could say to her in that moment, but without a translator my words would offer no comfort, maybe words on my part were never necessary at all. The only thing I could do at that moment was let her cry and allow her emotions wash over me as she spoke words I mostly did not understand. I hugged her, and said that I could not speak Portuguese well, but that my heart was full for her and that I was sorry. She smiled at my childish attempts, and said I no speak English pero I see you heart.

We prayed together and continued our conversation of the heart. In those 30 minutes we were undisturbed and got to know and see each other. It was one of the best conversations that I have had in a long time and we barely used words. When both our tears subsided and were ready to face the outside world again, I told her my name and asked for hers. “Me, Isabella,” she said, then I said in Portuguese, “It was nice to meet you Isabella.”

Question

“What does the way Christianity is practiced today have to do with the handful of words and deeds uttered by a man who walked the earth two thousand years ago?”

Makes you think doesn’t it? And I have to say it is a fair question for the world to ask when they look at Christianity. “Just what are we doing brothers and sisters in the Lord?” Now what if I told you this question was posed by a church-going Atheist? That’s right you read it correctly.

This question comes from the lips of Matt Casper the co-author of “Jim & Casper Go to Church.” Casper and his co-author Jim Henderson wrote a book about exactly what the title states, going to church. This book is special and insightful because it brings together two things that one would assume were opposed, a Christian minister and an Atheist. (Jim & Casper - this cap’s for you).

My friend Rob Yackley had read the book prior to our bumping into each other in South Africa and I have to say that it made me think and ponder in a way that I truly enjoyed and I would recommend it to anyone who calls himself or herself spiritual and thinks they are familiar with what is commonly referred in Christian circles as Church.

In this book our subjects go to churches unannounced to rate and discuss them. Because they give the names of the churches they attended, it was interesting for me to hear an objective opinion on many places I have attended or visited. Sometimes I was vindicated but other times I was challenged or embarrassed. I learned so much about from the receiver’s point of view when Christians might engage people regarding spiritual matters. There were not many shocking things said but the way that Casper the Friendly Atheist questioned and stated things could not be easily discredited because they often hit at the core Christianity. I think Casper asked many questions, like the aforementioned that the Global Body of Christ needs to reconcile and speak on. Plus both men encourage a much-needed dialogue between those who believe and those who do not. Jim and Casper’s dedication to be open to conversation created space for exploration and they often discovered they had the same questions or thoughts. Jim and Casper respected and honoured each other even when they were critically opposed and they learned that each of their perspectives could lend value to their own.

I have a warning though; if you a person who is “convinced that you know the all the facts,” then you might find their opinions discomforting and confrontational. I urge you to work past your reactions and consider this a tremendous opportunity. Let me encourage you to step away from your position of certainty for a moment and see things from another point of view, just for the sake of learning something new and fresh even if you might not agree. Now read it with an open-heart and desire to find out what a person might experience when he (in their case) walks into a Christian church for the first time no matter what their affiliation is towards a Judeo-Christian perspective of God. I have to say this book will challenge you not to pass judgement or defend your position and see it as a collection of conversations between two men; one believes there is a God and the other does not.

Just to give you a taste: At the back of the book they included some questions that people raised when they read Jim and Casper’s book. Here is a question and the response that made me laugh, smile and say, “Preach it Atheist.”

Q. Casper seemed somewhat offended by the apparent wealth displayed in Saddleback’s congregation. Why is that? Does he believe that wealthy people are somehow less worthy or can’t be true Christians? What lesson ought Christians take from this observation?

Casper Says: I’d like to answer this with a quote: “I tell you the truth, it is very hard for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I’ll say it again-it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God! (Matthew 19:23-24).

And there was something said by the visiting pastor at Imago Dei that stuck with me: “Giving is not really giving until it interrupts your lifestyle.” How many of the neatly coiffed, SUV-driving attendees of Saddleback can say that they have given until their lifestyles were interrupted? If people who keep their wealth think they are going to heaven, I’d suggest they find a teeny, tiny camel to help make their case.

From pages 156-7, “Jim and Casper Go to Church,” by Jim Henderson and Matt Casper.