Dirthead Theology

Teaching... Part 2

2010-09-15T21:46:00.003-06:00

Well, I finally took up the mantel two years ago, and stepped into the classroom as the homeroom teacher in a small Christian school. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what teaching was. I had spent years actually watching and studying the things that teachers did, how they did it, what they didn’t do. I thought that I was ready.

Fortunately, I was wrong. Fortunately, I was wrong here, at this school, or I might have spent many years striking out without realizing it. I might have just kept on offering information and testing instead of trying to educate. I still feel the occasional pangs of guilt for having to learn such lessons at the expense of my class, but I suppose that teachers have to learn on someone.

You see, here at the Garden School, the concept of education we ascribe to is a more holistic approach. Sure, a student needs to know basic information… geography, math, spelling, etc… but we also value integrity, goodness, truth, faith, prayer, and other spiritual disciplines. We recognize that raising up leaders takes mentoring… not just information. We want to be a part of sculpting beautiful souls, and not just beautiful minds.

As teachers, we seek to impart a piece of our lives to our students… give of ourselves… something that might echo across generations. Class time might consist of a lecture, or a poignant story, or open discussion or a sermon-et… but it is always a lesson that holds some value… something that I hope will leave an impression on a young leader’s heart.

For me, this is inspired teaching. I am not sure that “teaching” is even the appropriate word for this… but it is the word we’ve got. In fact, maybe the word doesn’t matter and neither does a carefully parsed definition. This is a lifestyle; a heavy burden and a deep privilege. And it feels so, so good… to teach like this.

Teaching... Part 1

2010-09-11T12:05:00.001-06:00

What is teaching? What does it mean “to teach?”

In some fashion, I have spent more than 20 years of my life trying to answer just these questions. That is, SO FAR, I have spent more than 20 years trying to figure this out.

The irony is that I have carried this burden since before I really, actually had any inkling of what was involved. When I was probably about 8 or 9, I began to feel that I wanted to be a teacher. Sure, I was a public school kid, and I had already experienced the classroom with several different teachers. However, this wasn’t just the feeling that “Gee, teachers sure are nice! That’s what I wanna be!”

Instead, as much as I can remember, it was natural. It just seemed like a shoe that fit. It was a sort of confident assumption, something that could not be reasoned but was surely true.

Years passed, many people in many ways reinforced this. Sometimes, I told them I wanted to be a teacher and they would say something like, “That fits you. I’ll bet you’ll be a good one.” Or at other times, people would listen to me or talk with me, and then suggest, “You know, you should be a teacher.”

My gifting and interests also reinforced this vocation. I have a quick mind, and I read well, with a strong memory. I am naturally confident in front of a group (or at least I can appear that way), and I can usually explain pretty complex things in a way most folks can chew on. It seems like the stuff of teaching, no?

So, yes, I am pretty sure that I am a teacher at heart. But this still doesn’t exactly answer our question… namely, what is teaching?

Good Walk Ruined? Part 3

2010-09-05T17:43:00.002-06:00

The game itself… caught me unawares.

I had all sorts of notions of what it would be like. I mean, I had seen the movies where guys wearing really ugly pants cursed violently and threw their clubs. Some guys grabbed their clubs and snapped them in fury across their knees. You know, the frustration, the anger… agony or ecstasy riding on every shot… that “ruined walk” we were talking about. However, what I came to understand about the game, was so much more than that. What I came to realize about the game is so simply said… and holds so much weight…

The next shot is all that matters. This was a very, very profound realization for me. Sure, you have to be practiced and you have to understand the rules. You have to have technique. You have to be equipped with a full range of the proper gear. You need to have some knowledge of the course. All of that is so very true.

However, when you stand over that ball… when your body and mind are cocked and loaded, all that matters is hitting the ball right then and there. The last shot is in the books. It is history. You make adjustments. You learn from your mistakes. You play the ball where it lies.

When I began to understand this, the game just sort of… opened up. It took on a transcendent quality. It became a metaphor for life. When I realized this, when this clicked, the game became more than a walk in ugly pants. I realized that I could really grow to love this game… that it was becoming more the “game of kings” that I had heard about.

You see, in life, we all have a past. All of us. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have things which bring them pleasure when they recollect them, and those things they might wish they could forget; experiences we would ache to re-create, and those shots we would like to have back.

The past is the past, though, and all we have is this moment… today. Yesterday might have been a heartbreaker, maybe this morning was off in the rough, you might have blown it even just an hour ago, but each interaction, each decision brings opportunity for redemption. You have to allow your experience to color your choices, but you have to live in the here and now. You have to focus and take THIS shot. You have to play life how it lies.

And this is the way in which I think golf becomes the “game of kings.” I used to have that dismissive, cynical attitude about this phrase, too, because I associated golf with pomp and the stereotypical, condescending upper classes. So naturally, the self-inflated royalty would gravitate to this kind of game, wouldn’t they? They of the exclusive, racist, sexist golf culture! Pompous jerks! Ha!

I was wrong primarily because I did not understand how profound the game is, and the corresponding nature of true leadership. A leader is not perfect, and all of his decisions are not perfect, but a great leader is not held hostage by his past. He must make the best decision that he can, every time, with the skills, wisdom, discipline, experience, and resources at his disposal. The situations that he finds himself confronted with are rarely simple, but mostly complex and difficult. The point is, though, that the leader still has to lead… he still has to take the next shot…

And it is these insights... these realizations… about the game that make me think it is worth playing. Golf can be overdone, it can be all of those negative things we sometimes envision about it, BUT it can also be a reflection of something larger and even noble. It is these attributes that make we want to get on the driving range, and onto the fairway.

FORE!

A Good Walk Ruined? Part 2

2010-09-01T20:42:00.002-06:00

As the tournament drew near, I had to deal with the reality that I had to play with a group of guys with much more experience than I. I was worried over whether my team was going to consist of ultra-competitive guys who would grow quickly frustrated with the inept new guy. I was worried with even being able to hit the ball off the T… much less working from the fairway and putting… I was really a wreck worrying over this.

When I finally arrived, with my rented clubs and my company shirt, the team was a fun, positive, very gregarious group of guys. They were thrilled to offer tips and see me show improvement through the day. We played a type of game in which our score is a team score (not scored individually). So, if I were to hit a bad shot, it would not effect the score of the team. This also proved to be of great relief to me.

Once the anxiety was set aside, I began to experience the game. It is funny how much more we experience in life if we let go of anxiety, isn’t it? Another blog for another time!!

But as I began to breathe the morning air… smell the course… drink in the vibrant fairways… feel the spongy greens under my feet… not just as an observer, but a participant… it was more than I would have expected. It was more than a game, but an experience.

So in this way, I was getting a feel for this “walk ruined.” It was so, so far from that. I could begin to see how, in some way, these courses could hold the same therapeutic value you find in Japanese meditative gardens. The crafted greenery… the beautiful scenery… all of it. But really, this is only about the environment, or the playing field, and not the game itself.

The game itself, though, is something different altogether…

"Something I Can Never Have"

2010-08-31T20:18:00.004-06:00

“I still recall the taste of your tears…..”

The words quietly ring out…. stark… full of aching desperation…

This version is especially poignant and real. Stripped down from the studio track, bare, just like the lyrics… which is why I chose this to share. Just a handful of notes… and a voice…

How can you NOT listen to a song that starts with a line like that? Doesn’t that draw you, in some primal way, by its’ honesty? Maybe for me, as I try to cultivate a writer’s eye… try to understand myself… I seek out things like this that are so… real… so that I might take something from it.

I might catch a certain mood, and dwell in it for a while… trying to step outside myself to think about my own thoughts. I might try to empathize with the song… trying to picture such a figure… trying to write about this person… seeing if I can capture in words what is being communicated in the song…

Other times, it may just suit my mood. It may also give me a vessel to emote feelings that I know are festering, and unexpressed. It might give me an opportunity to cry, or laugh, or feed the flames of burning determination… to lift up my soul to higher things in the midst of the mundane. It gives me an outlet for something within me… another conduit for expression... using someone else's words.

Coming back to this NIN clip. Though Reznor is not an overly positive, uplifting songwriter, I am drawn to his honesty. Sometimes, life is not interested in lifting you up, or making you feel like a million bucks. It isn’t ALL storm clouds, but it is certainly not ALL sunny skies, either. Since life is multi-faceted, I want to share a similar selection of music and thoughts.

Something that has stayed with me these years, even when I have not listened to NIN, is the desperate power, the longing of his words that somehow resonate within me. The voice. The tone. The words. You might feel that, as well, when you hear it. It might be haunting. It might create an ache in you. You might find yourself “experiencing” the music in some way… at least, that is what I think the artist would expect.

So, give it a listen… and feel free to share what you think about it….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEW8riKU_tE

Good Walk Ruined? Part 1

2010-08-28T13:31:00.004-06:00

Golfing.

Yes, Golfing.

I went Golfing today.

So, what does that make you think of when I say it? What is your reaction to this declaration?

Well, I can tell you that over these years, the way that I would have responded has changed.

Back in the day, if someone were to mention golf in a positive way, I would have scoffed. I probably would have dismissed the game outright. You know, to quote Twain, something about a “good walk ruined.”

As time passed, my flippant attitude softened a bit. Maybe age was a factor. When you are young, it is so easy to divide the world into two camps: namely, awesome and stupid. Age brings with it shades grey, and the world does not seem “quite” so polarized.

As time passed, I also began to read a little more about the game… began to learn about it… read essays and stories written by those who love it. Catching a glimpse of someone else’s love might have helped to soften my resolve a bit. It’s never that easy to be calloused when confronting someone else’s passion. Funny how that works…

As time passed, I spent a handful of hours on the driving range, and rode along for a few rounds with others who were playing. I could begin to see the appeal, the skill involved, and the enormous challenge of it. Since I have none of the gear for golfing, though, I still stayed an arm’s length away and did not try to actually play a game of my own.

Then, a few months ago, I was put in a position where I HAD to play a full 18 holes. You see, I am a sales rep, and our company sponsored several teams in a key local tournament. Without debate, I was expected to be an active participant on one of those teams…

As a salesperson, I am not usually a big fan of making a fool out of myself in front of potential clients, so the thought of playing my first game with them was not an attractive one. However, there I was, and there was no way out of it.

(Look for part 2)

I Go To Extremes

2010-08-28T12:50:00.005-06:00

I like this song.

Ironically, those who know me probably won’t be surprised.

This is a song by Billy Joel entitled “I Go To Extremes” from his “Storm Front” album. This album is one of my favorites, and has been since it was first released. In the Billy Joel discography, it takes a back seat to the “Innocent Man” album, but I digress. The point is that Billy Joel is an extremely talented musician who has developed amazing staying power through 30 years in the oh-so-fickle music business.

His song writing is really marvelous. He philosophically dives into topics like relationships, America, people, changing culture, celebrity, and more. Using this insight, he couples it with a narrative writing style, and vivid word pictures. In fact, I would put him into the songwriters’ pantheon along with Bernie Taupin, and Bob Dylan.

Well, when it comes to this song, I listen to it, and I feel like I could have written it (if I had such talent, anyhow). It talks about that need… that compulsion… that obsession that just can’t be suppressed, nor fully understood. It is that irresistible thing inside that makes a person like me tick… it can be frightening in its’ disregard for self-preservation. It does not care if it leaves its’ host drained, exhausted…

So the song admits over and over, “I don’t know why I go to extremes.” It talks about sleepless nights, and dancing on the edge of losing it. And as with so many favorite songs, I sing along in my agreement. It is funny that some songs take on even deeper personal meaning as the years pass….

Here is the link to the music video… yes, back from when MTV actually played music videos!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xgjtm4_M20

"Hurt" LIve

2010-08-26T18:45:00.004-06:00

I would imagine that this will be a surprising post for some people to see here........

Well, there was a dark time in my life where I was quite the NIN fan. This song was one of my favorites back in those days, as it grabbed me with its' visceral emotionalism. To be honest, it also laid bare my own pain and hurts... so listening and singing along was almost a therapy for me... You know, singing a song in the first person, pretending that it isn't really about you, just a song...?

While I am not in that dark place anymore, I still feel the power, the stark honesty of this song. It echoes of feelings and doubts that I am not sure I would be brave enough to sing out to others... even now. In fact, the intensity and mood sound like a lament Psalm in their way... at least, how I imagine those old Psalms...

Funny how the Bible does not dance around raw emotion. Instead, we see the entire human condition laid bare.. uncomfortably bare. However, we find ourselves being somehow embarrassed or terrified of such pure emotion. At least, I probably feel that way much of the time....

This particular version is especially good, being so stripped down and intimate (although Cash's version is really amazing, too). In fact, I debated about posting Cash's version, but felt like I would let Trent Reznor sing his own song, instead.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cefrrdRUid4

One Foot in Front of the Other

2010-08-25T21:59:00.004-06:00

What do you do with passion?

I mean, what if you are an intensely passionate person? No, not just some lusty, physical thing… but an intense, irrational, fundamental personality trait. What can you do with this?

You might say it is akin to the old prophet who was given the Lord’s message. He confessed that if he did not speak it, it threatened to consume him; like venting a flame which could become explosive if contained. This is what it feels like to have such passions, the need to reign it all in, but to risk immolation of it is suppressed too much.

The reasons for reigning it all in vary, some are noble, some are mundane. It may be a matter of keeping your job, not offending people, honoring a vow, keeping your sanity, being a productive member of society, maintaining your integrity, honoring cultural norms, or whatever. But in each case, the expression of this deep passion must be controlled or re-focused into something positive and productive. It must be funneled and fashioned like some kind of raw material.

But how do you do this? Another way of saying it is, how do we do this without falling into madness, as many of the great artists and musicians have fallen? How do you keep such transcendent urges bound within reality? How does one reconcile the vastness of one’s vision and the smallness of reality? How does one wrestle with something that defies measure and, in fact, is a compulsion? How does a person deal with all of the mundane isues of life, stay interested and engaged, when there is so much more…. careening through your mind?

For me, I don’t think that I have this answer yet………… not by a long shot.

So, this is one of those times where I am happy to receive feedback. Remember that this blog is about being real, and really, this is one of those things that I am trying to figure out…. How do we transcend the day to day? How do we functionally put one foot in front of the other in our journey to the eternal, when the present is so… constricting?

And as I come to some conclusions, I will be happy to share them with you...

Garden School Graduation Speech 2010

2010-05-23T14:52:00.005-06:00

Yet again, my Seniors asked me to make a speech at their graduation. So, with much trembling and unsettling emotions, I offered up these words. It was an incredibly difficult speech to give, being so weighted with so many hopes and deep passion... I am thankful for my graduates who were so gracious while I struggled to read it.

* * * *

I would like to thank you, graduates, for the opportunity to come and share my thoughts with you one more time. I have been privileged to serve as one of your teachers this year. You have endured many lectures, rants, and off-the-subject stories in my class. So, for you to ask me to come and give one last lecture, means that something I said somewhere must have rung true. That, or we didn’t have money in the budget for a really cool speaker! I am hoping that it was the first option…

Today is special; probably more so than you even realize. This day marks a significant transition in your lives… a point that will grow in significance as time passes and you have the opportunity to reflect on it. I don’t want to say this to talk over your heads, or to treat you as though you are children, but to exhort you to take today seriously. In fact, I beseech you to take everyday seriously…

I know that your hormone-clouded minds are reeling, and you have probably had enough of “serious” in the past couple of months. You have been inundated with well-intentioned people who want to know your plans. “So what are you going to do after you graduate?” “Where are you going to school in the Fall?” “Do you have a job lined up?” “What kind of career do you want to pursue?”

Frankly, right now, I don’t care about that stuff. I couldn’t care less if you drive a dump truck or practice medicine. It doesn’t matter much to me if you go to college or not. I don’t mean to startle any of your families here today, but in the Final Judgment, those things are details. Instead, I ache to see each of you work for the Kingdom, and make your life an offering to your Savior.

It would be unfair of me to leave you with that sentiment by itself. It is a hard thing, to live such a life. It is absurd to attempt this life without having some guideposts… so, these are what I would like to give you. I can’t speak to every circumstance you may ever encounter, but I want to offer up some things that I hope will help you weigh your decisions. Of course, you will recognize many of these lessons from our study of the Scriptures, but the best lessons bear repetition. At least I hope so!

The first and greatest lesson we read is that we are each Created by a God who loves us. Not only that, but each and every human being bears His Image. I don’t know if the impact of these two truths can ever be overstated. It is simple enough for children to learn in Sunday School, but profound enough to make the wise marvel. Do YOU believe that you are Created by God, in His image?

We see a hopeless, childless old man promised a family. He believes Yahweh, and becomes the father of a mighty nation. Faith will not always make sense, but the reward is immeasurable… as the stars in the Heavens… Will YOU have such a faith?

We come to realize that our choices bear dire consequences. As we stand on the plains of Moab, we are confronted with this great distinction… will we choose Life, or will we choose Death? As we anticipate entering into our own Promised Land one day, we all have to realize that these are the ultimate ends of our actions. Will YOU choose life?

We encounter the miraculous. Seas are parted. Walls are felled. The infirm are restored. God acting again and again in ways that shatter our modern assumptions about the world. Do YOU believe that He still works miracles? Do you believe that He can?

Life is characterized by endless choices that we all encounter every day. We see both wisdom and folly calling us to follow them. Thankfully, in the Scriptures we also find True Wisdom to help us make such decisions. As you go out and seek counselors to help you through tough times, be sure to look for God-Fearing men and women to guide you. Will YOU follow True Wisdom? Will YOU live wisely?

By contrast, we find that every activity under the sun will prove fruitless if we act with the wrong motivations. Will YOU chase after the wind and make a name for yourself? Will You seek after a life of hollow pleasures and worthless treasures?

We see the Prophets of old speaking of a mysterious time yet ahead. In That Day, those who have built great temples to house their egos will find their idols destroyed. All who are hard pressed will find comfort. All who know only strife and conflict will find peace. Sin-stained hearts will be cleansed. Death will lose its’ sting. Do YOU look forward to That Day?

I am sure that it is no surprise that I am not offering easy answers here. That would be somehow untrue. I am leaving you with questions that you have to answer, and not just with words, but with your lives.

I have been deeply blessed to have shared this year with you, and I hope so much for each of you. Most of all, though, I hope that when That Day comes… the Day of which those prophets spoke… I will see each of you being richly rewarded for a life lived in His Name. And it is in His Name, the Name above all names, that I pray these things for you.

Thank you again for being such blessings to me, and may the Lord bless each of you as you go.

My Suggested Bibliography, Part 3

2010-01-31T22:58:00.004-07:00

Well, I warned you that I was probably going to come back to this whole bibliography thing again... I just didn't think it would be this soon. Here goes another couple...

11. All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque

To say that this book is a war novel is like saying that McDonald's food might not be good for you; both are dramatic understatements. I would go further to say that this book is THE war novel. It is so profound as to make pretty much every war novel since a poor copy of it. Considering the breadth of this genre, that is saying a lot, but when you read All Quiet, you will know I am not exaggerating.

Remarque shows you the hearts and minds of the young men who found themselves charging out of their classrooms into the trenches, in search of honor, glory, reward, true meaning. What they find is something nearly beyond words and altogether different. Though some may have excaped the shells, they were all of them scarred. It describes war in both the graphic, terrible detail, but also in a deeply introspective way which is almost unnaturally clear and free from over-emotionalism. Since Remarque does both, and with such acuity, this novel transcends any one war or period and speaks to all wars. Just read it. Just..... wow.

12. A History of the American People by Paul Johnson

If I listen carefully, I can hear a shriek rise up from my students as they read this one. For those who don't know, this is the history book we utilize at the Garden School for our Humanities class. Nearly without fail, the students groan and moan about how boring it is and how they despise it. However, I have found it to be a remarkable historical study.

Johnson is actually a British man who was a bit put out that in his British education, he learned almost nothing about these peculiar American folks across the pond. As he read more, he fell in love with not only America for what it is, but with Americans for who they are, as well. His scope of study is enormous, as he weighs and considers a huge range of factors, from economics to geography to politics to philosophy to the arts to biographies and then some. The author just put an insane amount of info into these roughly 1,000 pages, and he does it in a human way. It is not really just some kind of steroid-enhanced report, but a carefully woven and warmly written essay about what makes America great.

13. LOMBARDI. by John Wiebusch

This one is going to surprise some people, I am sure. It can not be considered a classic in any sense, and I doubt history will make it such. There are only a handful of people who probably even know it exists. For me, though, it holds a special place, and I take it off the shelf and re-read it at least once a year.

The book was originally published in 1971, about a year after Vince Lombardi died of cancer. This book is an oral history; a collection of interviews given by friends, family, bosses, players, competitors, and anyone else who knew Lombardi enough to talk about him. He was a giant among men... at least among coaches, and the Superbowl trophy bears his name as an acknowledgement of what he meant to the NFL. Aside from his achievements as a coach, he was a good man. He stood for goodness and decency and hardwork and integrity and teamwork and discipline... in a way that stands apart from the typical coaches trying to get more points on the scoreboard.

I honestly don't think a typical gal will care much for this book. Frankly, I am not sure how many guys would really care much, either. As a man, however, I find it touching and inspirational as I read about the tremendous impact this man Lombardi had. It goes beyond the simple guy things for me, as I confess that I have have wanted to coach football for more than 15 years now. Crazy? Sure. Can't deny that might be a bit out of character for me. I cannot imagine a coach who I would want to emulate more.

14. Nothing Like it in the World by Stephen Ambrose

This is a book about the construction of the American Transcontinental Railroad. That sounds kind of simple, really, but it is more than that. Ambrose is a polarizing figure among historians, but his books are so readable and yet studied, that they are worth the time. It's not just that he knows a lot about these subjects, but that he enjoys them, as well. In this book especially, you can pick up on the author's enthusiasm over what he is writing about.

You see, there is a part of me that aches to be a part of something historic, or challenging, or nearly impossible. I want to look back and say, with bravado, "yeah, I did that" or "I was a part of ..." Maybe it is climbing Everest, or ridding the world of hunger or working on a crab boat in the Bering Sea or whatever... Well, many of these men who worked on this railroad could hold their heads aloft after its' completion. It was an incredible, unprecedented undertaking that could only happen at that time in America. When you read it, you just marvel at what kind of a challenge it was, and what a triumph it was when it was finished.

15. Is There a Meaning in This Text? by Kevin Vanhoozer

I have probably gone too far into the deep end for most folks with this one... but that is kind of the point. One of my favorite areas of Theology or Philosophy is that of Hermeneutics (the science and art of interpretation), and this book finds itself under that umbrella. It is really pretty heady stuff that has such a broad scope, it is almost dizzying to read.

In a very small nutshell, Vanhoozer is dealing with the effects of deconstructionism on modern Biblical (or literary) interpretation. The guy is ridiculously intelligent and, to be frank, I am not even sure that I understood all of what he was even saying. That is part of why I enjoyed the book as much as I did, and why I want to give it another read or two. It really showed me the limit of what I really understood, and it made me want to step it up another notch to really understand what it is saying.

I preach to my students that you have to have a couple of these books in front of you regularly... to keep you growing. For me, this book is one of those. For many of my students, if they hear that I couldn't get it, they would be scared to even try it. All I can say is that I hope they will never shy away from any book or subject or class if it is something that they really want to learn or understand. Nobody knows it all. Nobody. But you don't have to be a scared know-nothing either.

My Suggested Bibliography, Part 2

2010-01-30T19:22:00.005-07:00

This is the second part of this Bibliography, so be sure to read these in order...

6. Read the Bible for a Change by Ray Lubeck

Now, this book is hardly a classic by any stretch, but I regard it with a deeper affection. You see, I have Ray Lubeck for a teacher in several classes over the course of several years at college. Fellow students seemed to adore him, but at first, I thought him a bit odd. However, after several classes, I found myself impressed by his teaching style and engaged by his enthusiasm. In fact, I feel that much of what my students enjoy about my class is a direct result of Ray's influence in my own life. He helped me understand what good teaching looks like.

That narrative note aside, this book is a very readable guide to Bible study, filled with humorous anecdotes and warmth. Lubeck packs a lot of info and analysis into a neat little package here, and it is only the richer for me, since much of it echoes discussion that we had in classes. His notion of reading the Bible like a BOOK completely changed my way of looking at it. Kind of common sense, huh? Well, I can tell you that it isn't that common, and most treat it like some kind of Spiritual Swiss Army knife. I don't have a corner on correct interpretation, but thanks to Ray, I feel like I am on the right street.

7. "The Dictionary of..." collection published by InterVaristy Press

Each of the books in this series is a collection of articles about a multitude of subjects in a given section of the Bible. For instance, in "The Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels," you will find literally hundreds of articles on different topics which relate to these particular Biblical books. It may be interpretive theory, book structure, cultural notes, topical or thematic studies, character studies, geographical notes, or any number of topics. These articles are written by modern recognized authorities in these particular topics, and all are scholarly pieces.

Now, I will admit that these are not usually wildly interesting reading. They are, after all, scholarly introductions to these topics. However, it is good to chew on things like these to help us deepen our understanding and thinking. Just reading this kind of writing will invariably hit you with things you would not have thought of on your own, and may even contain "aha" moments when a new light is shone onto these books. As an added bonus, each article is followed by a brief suggested bibliography for that particular subject! Bonus!

8. The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis

I am deeply indebted to Dr. G(arry Friesen) who made me read this for his class. It is not a book I might have chosen on my own, but without a doubt it is my favorite Lewis piece. The basic plot is that a busload of damned souls travel to the outskirts of Heaven to decide whether or not they like it enough to stay there forever. Yes, it is a bit of an odd premise, but the underlying themes are too powerful to be dismissed easily. In the end, we see these "ghosts" fall, one by one, away from the "bright country" since they will not relinquish those sins that so tightly bind them.

One of Lewis' gifts is his clear picture of eternal reward and consequences. It shows up in his various writings in various ways, but this work captures it in such a beautiful, fantastical narrative. We find ourselves begging the various ghosts to release themselves from their self-imposed bondage, or maybe we scoff at them for their foolishness: only to catch a glimpse of such shackles within our own hearts.

9. Mere Christianity by CS Lewis

This book is another of his works that is just so marvelous in so many ways. Lewis is, of course, just brilliant. However, he has an equally brilliant way of discussing deep topics in common language. I would say that Lewis has a great "voice" in his writing that makes you feel like you are sitting in a Starbucks with him over coffee... This book is just so... conversational.

In addition to being so enjoyable, the actual topics Lewis wrestles with are utterly profound. This is a kind of Christianity 101, without the preaching. Really, it would be far too difficult to even begin to condense it here, as it tackles a wide range of inter-related topics. It is one of those books that does not waste a sentence, and yet carries you along in the reading. In my mind, it is a masterpiece that deserves a read-through at least once a year.

10. A Soldier of the Great War by Mark Helprin

Now, this is another book that time may decide is not a true "classic" and in another ten years, I may not, either. That said, do not start this book unless you have time to read it straight through. It's nearly 900 pages, and no, I am not kidding. Once you start with it, you will read it every waking hour until it is done. Every person I know who has read it has had exactly this same experience. I bought it on a Sunday afternoon, and even though I had to work Monday and Tuesday, I think I had it completed sometime in the wee hours of Wednesday morning.

As a warning, it is not necessarily for kids. While it is not trying to be vulgar in any way (far from it), it is a modern novel which utilizes the modern propensity to describe things in vivid, sometimes blunt detail. This includes topics like hate, love, war, revenge, sex, etc...

However, the story traces the life of a young man who grows into an old man... who fights in a war and sees death, who loves beauty in an almost transcendent way in all its' forms, who barely escapes a military execution by firing squad, who serves time in a marble quarry hand-chiseling enormous slabs from the sheer cliff face, who speed-climbs a mountain in a hail of artillery fire to rescue a friend, who falls deeply in love with women in a way that makes your heart ache to hear him speak to them, on and on the story goes..... and it takes you along for the ride the whole way. It is not a war novel, or a love story, or a drama... it is all of them woven together. It is well written in a way that books of the month can only dream of.

Well, that is enough of a list for now. I may take up the list again in future installments, and I probably will, but that would give a person a good start.

My Suggested Bibliography, Part 1

2010-01-30T11:44:00.006-07:00

What do you read? What would you recommend?

Oftentimes, we find ourselves at a loss to decide what to read, or more to the point, what is worth reading and what is not. Nowadays, printing is cheaper than it has ever been, and we are inundated with the printed word. It can be very, very tough to decide what is worthy of the investment of your life (because time is only a way of measuring your life, after all). There is a bunch of junk out there, in many forms, so one must be careful to invest wisely.

For me, as I proceeded through College, I was taught by men and women who were broadly read in their fields (getting a PhD does that to you). Often, the resource I coveted the most was the suggested Bibliography which each teacher would produce in the syllabus for their class. Basically, this would be a lengthy list of works which they would recommend for the next stage in our education in that subject. Basically, these teachers had done some of the groundwork for me, and separated the wheat from the chaff.

Now, I have shared this with my own class several times over... about these bibliographies. Then, just the other day, one of my students looked at me and asked, "Well, Mr. K, what are YOUR top ten books?"

Frankly, it caught me unawares. I don't suppose that I had ever really given that much thought. At least, I had never considered a list of my own... In that vein, I am going to throw out an eclectic list of ten books that I would recommend, and why I would recommend them.

1. The Bible.

Yes, the Scriptures come out on top of the list. Aside from my own particular faith and worldview, the Good Book is just marvelous. It takes us through a dynamic story, with many twists and turns and joys and heartaches. We find ourselves in familiar stories with the old familiar faces, and puzzling gems hidden in tiny chapters. We find wisdom, poetry, stories, songs, grand announcements, frail prayers, expansive family trees, visions, warfare, love, betrayal, murder, revenge, forgiveness, supernatural events and encounters, dynamic characters, exotic cultures, and a lot more.

Did I mention that the main character is the most controversial, most influential, most discussed, most debated, most cherished, most villified, most adored, most admired, most quoted, most misquoted, most studied, most righteous man in the history of literature? Yup, talkin' about Jesus here. Whatever your thoughts about Him, you find Him here in this book. There is just no other book that is even remotely as rich or influential as the Bible.

2. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

I have read this several times now, and it is just amazing. I think that I enjoy it more every time I read it. The characters are rich and the plot is just amazing. The overall theme of redemption and forgiveness is breathtaking. The detail and insights that Hugo brings are clear marks of a gifted author. It is truly, totally, a classic.

I read about Jean Valjean, his unfailing love and his unassailable power to transcend his circumstances. He is a force for redemption that I want to emulate. But to be honest, I find myself on the edge of my seat as I read about Javert, the bitter, unforgiving law man who mercilessly hunts Valjean... I see my own heart strangled and suffocating like his... and when I read, I turn the page hoping that this time, he might not end up in the river. But alas, he is overcome by his inability to show mercy, even to himself. God save me from such a fate....

3. The Sea Wolf by Jack London

Now this is a great departure from Les Mis, as London demonstrates a worldly, humanistic reality where death is omni-present. London had spent time in the great yukon gold rush, seeing firsthand the stark brutality of life there. However, he also spent much time on the open sea, and became an experienced man of the world at a relatively young age. Putting this together with an enormous literary talent, and a keen eye that observed all these things, and you have one of my favorite authors.

Though not as well known as White Fang or Call of the Wild, Sea Wolf is my favorite London novel. In it, we see the terrible battle of souls between the terrifying, Darwinian captain Wolf Larsen and the somewhat sheltered, idealist gentleman Humphrey Van Weyden. We watch as "Hump" wrestles with surviving in Wolf's brutal world, physically and ethically, while trying not to become the Wolf to do so. I could go on about it, but it is just a great read.

4. Jack London's various Yukon-based short stories

I have never been the biggest fan of London's two most well-known Yukon novels (White Fang and Call of the Wild), but I have always loved his short stories about the North. There are several dozen of them, and I will take it on myself to re-read them at least once a year. Having come from a small town in north Minnesota, far back in the cold, snow covered timber, these stories contain a sort of nostalgia for me. I have been inside hunting cabins that resemble those detailed in his stories, I have lived in temperatures well below zero for weeks on end, and I remember watching sled dog races run. At night, in the woods, you can still hear the wolves howl...

Aside from these memories, many of his insights into human nature and people in general fell in line with my own experiences and understandings. So in these things, I feel a part of his writings. Further, as with all truly amazing authors, he will drop the occasional phrase, sentence, or observation that gives the reader food for deep contemplation.

Among these short works, The White Silence, The Sundog Trail, The Master of Mystery, Housekeeping in the Klondike, and the classic To Build A Fire are the stories which I enjoy more than others, but really, they all mean something to me. Come, break the trail with Sitka Charley and sit alongside the Malamute Kid at the fire...

5. Moby Dick by Herman Melville

The funny thing with this book is that I kind of found it through the backdoor. Before I ever sat to read the book, I saw the old movie which starred Gregory Peck as Captain Ahab. Despite the somewhat goofy-looking whale (by today's standards anyhow), I loved it. I still believe that Peck's Ahab is the one against which all others are measured. But I degress.... back to the book....

I richly enjoy reading a book that has the 200-year-old feel to it. The culture Melville describes, the richness of his characters (some of the best descriptions I have ever read), the iconic story itself, the language he uses... all add up to a really great book. I find myself tremble with Starbuck, as he listens to Ahab wrestle with Providence... and I feel myself captivated by the gravity of this scarred face. "Come Starbuck, let me gaze into a human eye....."

Abe Lincoln... and Me?

2010-01-03T18:41:00.004-07:00

A few weeks ago, I read a book about Abraham Lincoln entitled "Team of Rivals." It was a well written and well researched book that was focused in on Lincoln's Political genius, especially evidenced by his interaction with his Cabinet. It was a good read, and I would recommend it.

In attempting to establish his character and how his personality was shaped, the author (a lady whose name I have forgotten) was describing his seemingly sad or even depressed appearance. Among the many descriptions of Lincoln from his contemporaries, the word "melancholy" kept coming up over and over again. The author was attempting to offer a better understanding of made Lincoln give off this particular "air," and in so doing, I felt she actually helped me to see my own heart a little more clearly.

Lincoln, she suggested, was particularly intelligent and keenly observant. He was enormously ambitious. He was gifted with an insight that penetrated past initial impressions or circumstances. He was also very richly emotional and empathetic, loving deeply and feeling the most intense pain and sorrow on the behalf of friends and acquaintances. Finally, he possessed a self-effacing sense of humor that allowed him to temper the deep sorrow or pains his heart would hold within.

Now, I am not for a moment putting myself on a pedestal with possibly the most profound American character of the 19th century. I am not even saying that I fully understand exactly how I tick or exactly how Lincoln's mind worked. What I am saying is that as I read these few paragraphs, I had to pause and consider things.

You see, I wrestle mightily in my heart with a sometimes terrible maelstrom of emotion. In fact, there are times it is more like a tortured existence. From what I can tell, my personality is... extreme. I am aggressive by nature, competitive, and when I believe I am right about an idea or course of action, I will not be dissuaded (no matter the severity of the battle or the odds against me). It can at times seem almost suicidal, but I can't let go until it is done, or my mind is changed. In a nice way, you could say I have an almost belligerent moral compass.

That's not all of me, though. Under this exterior, in a spot few get a glimpse of, I am deeply sensitive. I would suggest that I am pretty perceptive, as well. I deeply love friends and ache terribly when they hurt. Being that my closest of friends are so far removed geographically, this can become an oppressive ache of loneliness. As I have alluded in other posts, with my particular perspective or insight, it can be mighty lonely in even the most crowded rooms. Great art makes my soul sing, birthday cards make my eyes moist, and even minor kindnesses make it hard to speak. I doubt that too many people, if any, really see this in me, but I assure you, it is there.

Now, when I couple these two truths together, namely, that I am deeply sensitive and perceptive, but I have an almost reckless, inflexible notion of what is right and wrong, do you see the conflict brewing? I think that this is where my often hardened exterior comes from... it is a way of coping with the pressure that builds within. Lincoln used quaint humor and amusing stories to diffuse the pressure building in his soul, and maybe I harden myself as a defense. I try good old-fashioned humor, but often find it wanting or just too silly. So, my humor can seem pessimistic or sarcastic.

These past few years, I feel that I have been on quite a roller coaster of self-realization, and I feel that this is just another one of those realizations. You can't target the enemy until you have him in your crosshairs. So, I find myself trying to flesh out the inner workings of my soul, and soften those areas that have grown calloused or hard. How can I transform those things that are bitter or sharp into things that are sweet and healing? How can this personality, this soul, be redeemed in a full sense? It is a funny thing that we know so much about the surface of the moon, but a person's heart is so unsearchable.

Here is where I pray for more strength and understanding and wisdom. It is here that I must rely on the One who sees clearly and knows without error and provides strength in abundance for every good work. He made me, crafted me even, and He knows where the wires have been crossed. The journey may seem frightening, but true to form, I can not turn back or shirk the challenge.

That's just me.

An Evening With Teenage Men...?

2010-01-03T13:38:00.005-07:00

Last night, I enjoyed the evening with six of the young men from the Rhetoric (High School) class that I work with at the Garden School. With great satisfaction, Rachael and I prepared both our home and a fine meal for these fellas. I have always deeply enjoyed preparing food for guests (for reasons that may at some point demand a post of their own), so having them over to gorge themselves on Spaghetti with meatballs and home made cookies was a delight.

During the meal, we shared pretty light banter. I was not out to preach a Edwards-esque sermon full of fire or brimstone. Instead, I was moved to simply enjoy a couple of goofy stories and some old pictures of me as a kid... Needless to say, they got a big kick out of seeing the portly Mr. K with the big dimples (back when I was about 8). They laughed at the Mr. K with the peachfuzz stuck to his top lip (about 14 or so). They even got to see the long haired Mr. K dressed up as a cheerleader, complete with pigtails (for the High School powderpuff football game, aged 18).

As I gave them the "2-penny tour" of the house, I made sure to show them not only my small library, but also our small DVD collection. Looking through the books, I showed them a variety of titles, fiction and non-fiction, works ranging from Theology to Coaching Football to the Classics to Military History to the Far Side Collection. As we turned to the DVD's, they saw another surprising blend of titles. One of the students said, "Gee Mr. Koschak, you have some cool movies. I am surprised." I laughed at that one. It seems there may be a hidden side to the "Benevolent Dictator," after all.

I am not sure that there was a conscious plan in all of this, aside from just letting them have a look at my world away from the classroom. I suppose that I hope they will feel comfortable talking with me if I show them that I was young once, as well, and that my home is open to them for a visit. These fellas are now in High School, and in the next few years, they will embark on another phase of their lives. I wanted them to get comfortable with being talked to like men, as I feel that is what they are. A small interaction at the table was, I think, actually pretty profound in demonstrating this.

During our time gathered around the table, I made the off-handed comment that these guys are "teenage men," which in my mind, is what they are. On hearing this, one of the students paused, leaned back in his chair, and said thoughtfully, "I like the sound of that." They all kind of chuckled a bit at that, and others made the observation that it sounded better than the more common "teenage boys." I would probably agree.

I am not entirely sure that I appreciate or understand exactly what our culture seems to mean by the term "teenager." If it is a simple acknowledgement of years spent on this planet, then sure. But it always seems to carry more weight than that. Sometimes it is ominous, or sometimes it is dismissive, or sometimes it is an excuse, but it always seems to be more than just a person's age. I'm not sure that I care for so many of these implied meanings anymore...

I look at these people and I see "teenagers" struggling with issues and difficulties and even sins that adults struggle with, too. I see a hunger for real, honest fellowship and a real, honest Christian life. I see disillusionment with the standard "church-thing" with its' loosely applicable teaching and seemingly false "fellowship," which I also see in many adults I know. I see the same terrible spiritual war being raged among these "teens" that I see among their parents or within myself. I see a great need mirrored there that I see in most everybody I meet...

So to me, thinking of them as "teenage men" really makes more sense. This is why I try to talk to them like men, and I push them to carry themselves like men; not just like people who can drive, vote, or buy beer, but like MEN. God save us if we confuse the two!!!

This little exchange actually caught a hold of something much larger, I think: the greater reason that I hope to have this interaction with them. I want them to see them be MEN and think of themselves as MEN and make MANLY decisions. Ultimately, this is the Lord's work to bring to completion, but I may be a stepping stone along the way. I hope that this path proves straight and true for them.

Great Expectations... The Conclusion

2009-12-10T19:47:00.005-07:00

For one, I have to consider that My Heavenly Father made me to be... me. As Paul would write, he makes different vessels for different purposes. He crafts each person with their own blend of gifts and shortcomings, personalities and tastes. If I acknowledged this in theory, I had to be willing to see it in myself. I realized that I might be able to perform a great many jobs or duties, there were those things that I had a natural aptitude for, and other things which came with greater difficulty. Some things just seemed to "fit" better than others...

Now this may seem oh-so-obvious, but it may raise some concerns, as well. For instance, what if you find that you are gifted for a job that society may not glorify? What if your family doesn't value this profession? What if you have to settle for a shorter check in a culture gone mad with materialism? This isn't a slam dunk for everyone, and this is seldom actually discovered in any of the multitude of personality tests that experts want to offer...

So if the Lord made me, and he made me for a purpose, what then? Well, as I wed these two truths, I see that as I work at my vocation, I am fulfilling His purposes. It is, whether consciously or not, obedience. If I understand that I am only one piece of this enormous puzzle, with each piece being fitted for a specific place in the whole, then I begin to see that by obeying this fundamental calling, I am actually serving my fellow man.

Then, if I see that I am serving my fellow man, I also must see that my fellow man also serves me and my needs. The self-made, self-sufficient man may be the most absurd idol ever imagined. Truly it was said, "No man is an island." We are, all of us, interconnected in ways too deep to get our arms around. Instead of seeing some as servants to be pitied, and others as masters to be envied, I see that whether we fully see it or not, we are all servants. This should come as no surprise when we meditate on the Cross.

So not only did He make me, and for a purpose, but he made me to be a servant to his other creatures. By exercising my gifts, the gifts he gave me, I glorify Him. If I apply myself to this calling with vigor, humility, and joy, I draw close to the heart of worship. As Eric Liddell, the olympic gold medal runner, said in Chariots of Fire, "God (also) made me fast, and when I run, I feel HIS pleasure." This kind of worship grants even the most menial of tasks with the deepest dignity...

Can you see that the man running the bulldozer can lay an offering on the altar as beautiful as the nun who ministers to the destitute in Calcutta? Isn't that... just amazing? What can your life be? What song can you sing with your life?

If we come full circle, I realize that I still carry a solemn charge, but it isn't quite the way I imagined it (and maybe not how my family understood it, either). It is not a matter so much of redeeming a family name, but redeeming my life by serving the Name Above All Names. It is not about trying to be anything but what I was made to be. It is no longer a matter of being honored among men, but being rewarded by the giver of every good and perfect gift.

And this is where the road has led me. As is often the case, despite the frustration of the young, experience has a way of lending more clarity to things. My prayer is that as I continue to grow in wisdom and years, I might gain an even deeper appreciation for this worship... that I might prove to be a worthy vessel for the rich gifts my Father has bestowed on me. Just by being... me.

Great Expectations... Pt. 3

2009-12-10T18:53:00.003-07:00

As I began to work my way through these various trades and pay grades, I encountered something my precocious mind wasn't prepared for. Namely, I worked with a lot of really, really smart guys out there in blue collar jobs. Now, don't throw me under the bus for how dumb this sounds (as least finish reading first). Let me share a SMALL sampling of the people I encountered who shook my tree...

I worked for a painter who went to college for teaching, but got tired of the politics and short pay. He was a terrific man with a sharp mind and warm humor. I met a loader operator who had a full ride scholarship to a tech school, but declined it because he figured that rather than take all that time in a classroom, he would just read the books the teachers wrote (or the books that they read themselves)! Yeah, and he was actually reading these books, too. I worked with welders who understood Geometry and Trigonometry far better than, I suspect, some of the teachers that I had. I could go on and on, but I think that you get a glimpse...

None of these guys were miserable or unhappy in their work. That is not to say everyday was a celebration (it is a job, after all), but these were not galley slaves resigned to empty lives. To be frank, these guys seemed to have lives full of joy that I did not usually see mirrored in those who had the "white collar" jobs. They enjoyed the great outdoors, ate food that their own hands may have killed and butchered, sometimes worked right alongside their own sons, bragged about grandkids, watched over their elderly parents, etc, etc. Now, this is not saying that they were all of noble blood (jerks and dogs reside in every tier of society), but many lived what I might call "rich lives."

Maybe the most disarming of all, most of these men had a common-sense, clear-thinking way of seeing life that just cut right through the usual classroom theorizing. They had been raised on the meat and potatoes of Integrity, Work Ethic, and Family. They found the classroom (and the educational establishment), with its' abstract discussions and office-bound lifestyles, restricting and less than satisfying. What I had assumed was inability was actually a self-realization and wisdom that I myself did not possess...

Another discovery that I made was the truly profound joy of working with my hands (or maybe producing tangible results might be another way to say it). I was used to making calculations or writing a paper, and while these things served their purpose, it was nothing like solving real world problems and actually producing a day's work. It was mentally invigorating, AND physically exhausting. It was so... satisfying.

So what was I to say? How could I reconcile what I was seeing and feeling with that solemn charge so long ago? You know, that whole get a "good" job and "be somebody" thing we talked about back in part one. What did/does that really, actually mean anymore? As I look at my own rapidly growing son, what would I encourage him to do with his life? I think that the answer lies in my perceptions of worship, servanthood, vocation, and God as my Creator.

The Conclusion is next...

Great Expectations... Pt. 2

2009-11-17T20:02:00.005-07:00

While I was in high school and since, as noted previously, I have assembled a very diverse resumé. I have been in management, and in the bottom of a hole with a shovel. I have worked alongside aspiring doctors and lawyers, welders, and laborers. I have spent much time in the seats of various classrooms, and recently, I have taken my place in the front of the classroom as the teacher. Maybe, in a small way, I have finally become "Mr. Koschak."

On my way to this humble distinction, I have wrestled with keeping that family trust granted me so long ago. Along the way, I encountered several fallacies in my thinking which I suspect are relatively common. I thought that I might take this chance to share the conclusions that I have come to and how they relate to these flawed assumptions.

For one, whether consciously or otherwise, I carried the assumption that I was somehow "above" or "better than" a blue-collar job. I suspect that several factors contributed to this rather stark assertion.

First, I think that I inherited it from my family. When a young boy listens to his own parents tell him that he needs to get a good job, one that is far more important and superior to their own jobs, it creates a simple equation. Namely, that the type of work they do is not to be sought after, and that they have such a job because they can't get a better one.

I am sharing this, not to lay blame at my parents' feet, but to offer a kind of warning. I would strongly discourage parents or other adults from making pronouncements like these to youth, as it robs certain vocations of their dignity. I believe that every job is important, and that not everyone has the gifts to excel at every job.

Second, I think that this bias is reinforced by society and media. How many times have we seen the blue collar worker portrayed as some beer drinking, basically ignorant, semi-belligerent fool? The idea is that these people are to be ridiculed and certainly not to be taken seriously. On the other hand, the upper class are portrayed as being basically more intelligent, more sophisticated, and mostly better groomed. As a thoughtful person looking for mental stimulation, which would a person choose?

Third, since blue collar jobs are often labor intensive, this bias suggests that jobs that require dirty hands and a sweaty brow are somehow inferior. The thought is that if you were smart, you would not have a bad back at 45. This encourages a person to look at the tradesman or laborer as though they are less than desirable. It feeds the ego to think that we are "above" or maybe "better than" certain jobs, which actually translates to being better than the people doing these jobs...

There are more reasons that I perceived these things this way... but these three are pretty big. However, in His truly infinite wisdom, the Lord has shook my tree with various experiences which He has ordained. And it was (and is) through these experiences that my Heavenly Father is molding my notion of vocation and work. I hope to share some of these humble insights to encourage others on this road with me...

Watch out for Part 3...

Great Expectations...?

2009-10-25T22:12:00.004-06:00

When I was a young boy, it was evident to the majority of my family that I was a bright kid. Not necessarily Nobel material (cheap though the award may be these days), but smarter than your average bear, anyway. As I grew, my grades at school stayed strong, and it seemed that I was on the way to great things.

Before this begins to sound like a Charles Dickens novel, I want to offer a little bit of family history. I was born in Northern Minnesota, in a little town named Ely which is located near the Canadian border. It is a small town with a harsh climate, heavily reliant on the two harsh industries of logging and iron ore mining. It is a place that encourages endurance and determination in its’ residents: a legacy of which I am proud.

Like many in Ely, my ancestors only came to this country a few generations ago in search of work and land and opportunity. Half of my ancestors consisted of German lumberjacks who arrived in the north woods and began to apply their trade anew. The other half is a mix of English and Slavic blood. All of them in search of promise in the new world which they would pay for with sweat, aches, and even blood.

Given this hardscrabble existence, one can imagine what it meant to see such a promising young sapling spring up in the midst of the family. Here was a very, very smart young man who will do great things, who will redeem the family name in a way. Here is a boy who may one day be an "important" man with an "important" job. People will call him “Mr. Koschak.”

I remember hearing about how important it was for me to work hard in school, and to one day go to College. College, you see, being the great escape from the hardship of the blue collar life and living paycheck to paycheck. My grandfather, a retired county foreman, used to dig through trash cans to collect aluminum cans, so that he could sell them and give me the money for the college tuition I would have to pay more than a decade yet in the future. This was a serious responsibility and not to be wasted.

So, I grew up and grew older and carried this charge close to my heart. I got married and now I have children of my own. I have gone to College and have had many jobs over these years. In spite of these accomplishments, I still wonder whether or not I have been a faithful vessel for so much hope. Further, I have wondered whether this hope has been somewhat misplaced.... or whether I even understand it at all…

Part 2 coming soon…

Truth, Beauty, and Goodness

2009-09-30T22:02:00.008-06:00

Well, I'm back in school again.

No, not amidst the desks this time, but in front of them. The Garden School's academic year has begun again, and I am back in the saddle. Mr. K rides again... or something like that.

I confess that I did not know what to think about this year as I prepared to share. Last year, I was the sole teacher in my class of 15 unsuspecting students. This year, I am sharing teaching and grading responsibilities with an experienced teacher over a class of 20. Being that I am the dominant, obsessive sort, I was prepared for the worst. Like a rottweiler chained to a porcupine, I was sure this was not going to end well...

However, as we are nearing one month in the books, I have already experienced many revelations. Among them is how much of a blessing this shared responsibility has been. My perspective on what a good teacher looks like has changed and I am sure it will continue to evolve over the years I pray I have yet to teach. Much of this I owe to the woman who helps me lead this class and her many insights into what we, as a school, are about.

One of those insights which she has shared was tough for me to take seriously at first. You see, one of main principles, or maybe tenets, of our school is an appreciation for and cultivation of beauty. No, not the stuff of botox and tucking, but real soul-stirring beauty. Hmmmmmm...

Now I want you to try to picture this with me. Our school's crest is a celtic-styled tree with the school's name and three words making up a border of sorts. These three words are Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. With me so far?

For a guy like me, 2 of the three make good sense. I mean, come on... Truth is pretty obvious. This is that propositional stuff that universal absolutes are made up of. Yeah, propositional truth! This is the stuff of education if e'er I saw it!

Then you've got Goodness. Oh yeah, you have to have Goodness. Students need to behave and act morally. That's a good one. Being good. Yeah... that's.... ummm..... good!

But what about this Beauty thing? What? Uh, yeah, some art is beautiful and stuff. Sure.

At some point, I feel as though I began to appreciate this last one, and in this appreciation, I think it changed my perception of the other two. Please let me explain.

First, I had to admit that I really find beauty uplifting. It could be a song, a painting, a child's wonder, or a sunset. Deep within, I am inspired and calmed by such things. As I am driving on the road, and a stirring piece of music comes across the speakers, I feel like I am lighter than a feather. When I sit on my porch, the sunset's glow on my face, I feel worry ebb away and my heart feels a kind of peace.

This is not to be confused with lustful admiration for a curvy female, but a true appreciation of things that are lovely or beautiful. This beauty of which I speak might be transcendent in a way that human flesh can not capture, at least not purposefully, though it may be glimpsed when an artist portrays his or her subject. When a person tries to be this kind of beautiful, however, it flees from them like a bird evading capture.

Second, I had to admit that the recognition of beauty and the appreciation for it seem to be Divine gifts. I was impressed by this as I read Genesis again this year, and I read that the Lord made the Garden for man and that the garden was a beautiful place. I find this somewhat intriguing. I mean, there is apparently something more than utilitarian creation here. It was not only an environment fit for human survival, but it was a beautiful place, as well.

Now on some levels, I understand that this creation account was written from an anthropological viewpoint, and that this is human language. That said, it can not be denied that there is something about beauty that the Lord felt was necessary for his creation. In His desire to bless His creation, Man, He created beauty and the ability to appreciate it. This appears to be as much a blessing as the food He gives Man to eat...

Third, one of the blessings of having a capable mind is the ability to perceive beauty, and possibly to produce it. That is not to say it is a brilliant mind, but a capable one. Recognizing beauty is a skill that, when developed, allows one to see it in more things and to produce beauty for others to enjoy.

For instance, when I read great writing (the classics), I am constantly awed and challenged by the ability of the author/artist to express things in ways that resonate within me. Oftentimes, I find myself thinking something like: "Yes, I can see that... It is just so clear when he/she says it. I just wouldn't have been able to say it quite that way. Wow. I am going to remember that." Do you see what happened? I looked through the author's lens and saw something in a new way, and it was impressed on me. In a way, I am standing on the author/artist's shoulders and my ability to see and explain reality is broadened.

Once I began to put these together, I began to see connections with what we are doing in our little school in a new way. For instance, what is goodness? Is it moral actions... i.e. doing good and not bad. Well in a small way, yes. In a more integrated way, it is that which corresponds to the character of God, Who is altogether lovely. It is aligning our hearts with the Source of all beauty and trying to be beautiful like Him. How could we divorce true Beauty from Goodness?

Further, what about Truth? What hath Truth to do with Beauty? Here, too, it is more than propositional truth, which is such a cold, hell-ish notion of truth. Instead, it is experiential Truth which transforms a soul and makes it beautiful. Now, when I talk about what I do, I tell people that my goal is not to make smarter students necessarily, but to produce leaders with "beautiful souls." I am not so bashful about saying this like I once was.

So, do you see this changing of the guard occurring within me? Now, I feel like I understand my role as teacher a little better than I did before. I certainly don't have it scientifically dissected, like some philosophic autopsy, but I do enjoy the mystery of it a little more now than I used to. The call of the teacher is asking me to take a new road of understanding into previously undiscovered territory.

I am thankful that for this part of my journey, I have a guide to help me along.

Thanks, Aunt Renee.

To be........ me.

2009-06-12T21:50:00.004-06:00

Have you ever struggled with who you are?

Tough question, isn't it? I have been spending parts of these past few years really trying to figure this out. No, I don't suffer from schizophrenia (I think), but I find myself trying to get down to who I am... and who I am made to be.

At the first, I found myself struggling with what I would do for a living. This seems a sad way to define who I am, though. Many, or possibly most, of us work at jobs that may be less than ideal, but they keep us fed. The vocation may not match the deepest hungers of the heart, so the job fits like an ill-tailored suit.

I began to consider who I am in some Theological sense. Yes, I am a son of the Living God. Yes, I am forgiven... redeemed... etc... In some ways, this helped, but it still didn't really hit the bulls-eye. It seemed like that didn't quite answer the question that my soul was asking.

Then, I began to look at the various roles that I play. You know, I am a husband, a father, brother, son, and the like. Here again, it helped lend clarity to some priorities, and it even broadened my perspective a bit. Suddenly, I felt like my life was more multi-faceted... not just two dimensional.

However, this still did not seem like it alleviated this nagging feeling... This was getting closer to the definition or clarity I was looking for, but it still wasn't quite it.

I think that the answer was made more clear when I considered why the Lord had made me. No, I am not looking for some general, sweeping declaration that covers all of humanity. You know, "to know/love God and enjoy Him forever" or some such thing. Instead, I wanted to find just what this great Being... this God person... had in mind when he crafted this Patrick guy in particular.

It is in answering this question that I begin to find my answer. It is personal. It is about me. It is about me in an ultimate sense. Just why am I here? What is MY purpose?

Well, this answer is multifaceted, and pretty tangled up. I have to wrestle with Providence, experience, Fate (?), destiny (?), Free Will, Personality, (Spiritual) Genetics, all of it. How does this all weave together? What does my particular tapestry look like?

Let me tell you that if you think I have this one completely figured out, I don't. I am not quite there. I may never quite reach that degree of certainty. Maybe it changes over time...? I don't know. If you have read this far in search of some code or formula to help you figure out your own purpose... I may have disappointed you. Maybe I should have written a disclaimer at the beginning of this entry.

But alas, this Blog is not about cookie-cutter answers. Nor is it about giving advice, necessarily. It is certainly not about giving advice on cookie cutting!!! It is about me, being me, so that maybe you and I can be really us together.

While I may not have this whole purpose thing wrapped into a tight little box with a bow, the picture is in sharper focus now. I know that I was made to teach, to be a teacher. It is arduous, but it is me being me. I know that I was made to marry my wife, Mrs. Dirthead.

I know that I was made to be the father of my kids, and that without me, they would not be who they are. Ironically, without them, I would not be who I am... Hmmm... put that in your pipe and smoke it!

What about the rest? Well, I don't know. Maybe I have sliced the bologna too thin here, and it is all semantics, and it approaches absurdity. Maybe I chase my own tail.... or my personal white whales...

But maybe it all revolves around trying to understand who I am in light of my own, personal Creator. This path transcends theory, or abstraction. It is specific and experiential. Isn't that what all of our experiences, our opinions, our understanding... really amount to? Isn't this life as we really encounter it, and not in the way that scholars debate it in smoky parlors?

And that is what I want to know, to do, to feel. Life. Full and true. A struggle though it may be, but it is worth the sweat and blood. To be........ me.

Life and... Elton John?

2009-05-26T21:03:00.005-06:00

You know, life is funny sometimes, isn't it? There are times that are deathly serious; times which defy humor. Other times, we are caught unawares by a silly moment. I suppose it is under this auspice that I follow up such a heartfelt entry with one that is more light-hearted.

I was feeling particularly nostalgic, so I decided to do a couple of searches on YouTube. Some times, I search for events which I remember from years gone by... I can't always say why I do this exactly, except that maybe I am trying to recapture something (hence the nostalgia). At times, I look for speeches, newscasts, songs, videos, movie clips... just to dive into the past. Maybe, in the great tradition of all humanity, I am trying to make some sense of my experiences through reliving them somehow.

This said, I came across some Elton John videos on the 'Tube. Yes, back in the day, I was quite the Elton John fan. Of my CD collection, a very large portion consisted of Elton's works. The songwriting (especially when our man Reg teamed up with his pal Bernie), and, of course, the terrific voice coupled to produce some of my favorite songs. Even after ten years or more of not hearing them, I found myself singing along step for step. Yes, I sang with Elton. I am comfortable admitting that.

One of my favorite albums was "Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy." This title track, shortened, was my computer password for 4 years... I literally hummed it to myself nearly every time I logged on. The story of Sir Elton's friendship with Bernie Taupin, it is a fun song with a certain defiant tone.

The final track, "Curtains," is still one of my favorite songs of all time. It is so beautiful and wistful. It draws us back through time, to young love, to emotion so pure that it is almost embarrassing in the cynical eyes of adulthood. I hadn't heard this in... about 10 years, and picked it right up. "A once upon a time..."

In fact, what really stunned me about "Curtains" was that the alternative/grunge band Alice In Chains did a cover of it! Whoa. It was actually pretty good.

But I will tell you this... if you have never heard the Live in Australia album, wherein Elton performs with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra (1986)... well, I just don't know what to tell you about that. Your heart is cold. It is marvelous. Terrific. Ya oughta give it a listen.

I am really not kidding about this. Out of all the CD's I have ever heard, in any genre, it may well be my favorite album. It is pretty "wow" stuff. The songs themselves are great. The symphony is amazing. Elton brings it.

Just look at the song list. "60 years on" recounts an aged soldier... a veteran of a terrible war, looking at the end of his life in despair. "I need you to turn to" may be one of the most amazing love songs of modern music, but it gets little press. Speaking of quintessential love songs, this rendition of "Your Song" is marvelous. His voice has that sincere gravelly sound to it... with an orchestra behind it.

"Tonight," the song of a broken hearted lover, is a masterpiece. It tells of a man trying to reach out to a bitter lover, looking for peace and reconciliation. A man desperate for some sign that this love may be healed. I don't know exactly why, but the love songs that bespeak of hardship or long suffering seem more true somehow. "Sorry seems to be the hardest word" follows this same vein.

In his introduction to "The Greatest Discovery," Elton tells us that the lyrics to this song are among his favorites. As we "watch" a little boy meeting his new baby brother for the first time, we marvel along with him. It is beautiful.

These are not the only songs on this particular album... but this gives a taste. The album runs the gamut of emotion... sorrow, joy, alienation, despair, hope, love, foreboding, whimsy... it's there. Of course, it is all performed by one of our generation's best singer-songwriters... did I mention that he performs with an orchestra?

Why share this exactly? Maybe I wanted to see how many friends I have that will actually still be talking to me after I admit how much I like Elton John! I dunno. I just know that this album almost always takes my breath away when I hear it. I find myself singing along and even shedding a tear... it is rich stuff.

Maybe that's just how life is.

Garden School Graduation 2009

2009-05-16T20:27:00.007-06:00

This is the text of the speech I gave to the Garden School's 2009 graduating class, May 16, 2009. It was a tough, emotional speech to give, but I hope that it rang true to those who heard it. Being that I have dreamed of giving such a speech for some years now, it was a deep privilege. My thanks to my students for asking me to offer these words on such a momentous day. More than words...

************

(To the crowd as a whole.)

Hello. My name is Patrick Koschak, otherwise known as the Benevolent Dictator to these Seniors. I have had the privilege of being their teacher this year in home room class, and they have asked me to be here today in order to share some parting words of wisdom with them. On behalf of our Seniors, I would like to welcome all of you to the 2009 Garden School Graduation ceremony. Family and friends, acquaintances and gate-crashers, talking animals and other carbon based lifeforms; you are all welcome here today.

(To the Seniors)

You have made it. Good job. I am so very, very proud of each of you.

Here I stand. I am here to offer something to you. This day is about the six of you, but this speech will probably sound more like it’s about me. For those who know me, this may not come as a surprise! You see, without my experience, I would have nothing at all to say, so in some ways these things must always be autobiographical… Forgive me if I seem to drift off course.

I remember many moons ago when I sat at my own graduation. It was in the year of the red grass, before the white man came, when the Buffalo still roamed the prairie, but I remember it still. I remember feeling torn, or maybe a little confused over what was going on.

Maybe now, you find yourself feeling that way. On the one hand, this is just another day. A minute is still 60 seconds... still 24 hours in the day. Tomorrow will be just another day. You will not undergo some kind of mysterious transformation in the night that will cause hair to grow out of new orifices… well, that might happen, but aside from that, tomorrow is just another day to you…

However, there is still this thought tugging at your mind that this is not just another day. There are many people that you all have talked with these past months who seem to think that this is a big deal, and that gives you reason to doubt what you want to believe about this event. Despite the youthful bravado you might display, you are a little unsure.

I might suggest that the rest of us here know that this day means something. We can look back over these years and mark the passage of our own lives. Time, and its’ twin brother Experience, have given us an insight that is often dismissed by the young. Whether it be cultural construct, or the most real of passages, your graduation marks a new direction, a distinct dispensation.

Doubtless you have heard about what awaits you. Its’ various names have been invoked by parents and teachers in varying tones of warning and concern, almost like a boogey man. You have wondered what, exactly, it is or what the big deal is about. You have heard it described in various ways. You are surrounded by it, but you might feel like you don’t understand it. It crouches in wait for you tomorrow…

In case you haven’t guessed it, I am talking about the Real World. Oh, don’t roll your eyes. This phrase is not, in my mind, meant to imply that your experience thus far is less real or unreal somehow. This does not dismiss your lives up to this point as childishly unimportant. Saying youth is somehow unimportant is a lie straight from Hell.

Instead, I want to suggest that it is one of those things not to be feared or scoffed at, but taken seriously. You see, graduates, it is a perspective gained after the fact... similar to the Heavenly perspective in Lewis’ Great Divorce… you probably don’t really get it yet, but one day, I pray you will. Right now, in your hormone-clouded, expectant minds, you probably don’t want another unknowable hanging over you… but it is what it is.

The Real World is a place filled with the most dire of consequences and the deepest of joys. It can be a grey town, or a bright country. It is made up of damaged hearts, unfulfilled dreams, dashed hopes, inexpressible beauty, new life, and incredible triumphs. The valleys are desperately, terribly low, but the mountains.. oh the mountains … are so,so majestic… The Real World is a different sort of reality. It is almost like the Matrix that way. (Pardon the lame pop cultural reference… but I am trying here!)

Now, like Morpheus, I am here to offer you a choice. In this instance, you have no choice about whether to be a part of this particular Matrix. The choice that I am suggesting is this: how will you live in the Matrix? Who will you serve? Which pill will you choose?

On the one hand, you can go through life cautiously constructing an altar to your own ego. You can live in a way that disregards contrary opinions and the people that express them. You can probably find a comfortable job, maybe even a little pile of money. You might find another person to share all of this with. You could end up with a nice house on the edge of the grey town, alone in your own mind, after arriving safely at death.

On the other hand, you can choose to really live. No, it isn’t a simple matter of breathe in – breathe out; that’s the other choice. This is adventure. This is hardship. This is eternal glory and reward!! This is ultimate reality. But this one will cost you something. It will require you to give up your life… to become a literal, living sacrifice.

WHAT!!!

Mr. K, we didn’t ask you to come here to talk like that!!! We wanted you to be goofy… to say some outlandish stuff to make this a fun event! Good grief! What are you talking about this kind of stuff for…?

My friends, (you are my friends) I can speak no other way and give the gravity of this event its’ due. This is a send off, a farewell, as one part of your life ends and another begins. I would be remiss if I did not give this word of encouragement and warning. It must be so.

This living sacrifice thing is real stuff. You must give up your life to gain it. Remember Jim Elliot who said: “He is no fool who gives up what he can not keep to gain what he can not lose.” But remember, it is a LIVING sacrifice we are talking about…

What does this kind of thing look like? We see a single woman volunteering in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit so that she can hold the newborn crack babies and whisper to them about Jesus… in case they don’t survive. We see another young woman vow never to enjoy a family of her own, so that she can devote her life to the poor in the slums of Calcutta. We see a young man, new wife and children in tow, leave everything he knows to go live in a jungle, to bring the Gospel to people who would eventually kill him.

We see it echoed in a father who might take a job that grants a short check, but allows him to be at every little league game. We see an elderly woman with poor eyesight studying the scriptures in order to share with her Kindergarten Sunday School class. We see a young mom up late with crying babies, humming them to sleep with the gentle sound of old hymns. We see it in an old man, who rises early in the morning to build a fire and to make breakfast for his wife of 50 years, until the day that she wakes up to a cold house…

Do you see now? Did you catch a glimpse? These are living sacrifices… Most of them will be forgotten by the uncaring rush of time, but I tell you that their footsteps echo on into eternity. These are not sudden, passionate sacrifices, made once for all in a moment. These are the stalwart, devoted hearts of people who are living for a future time. Some of them might die young, some might live in poverty, most will bear heavy burdens… but all of them will be rewarded.

And THAT is what I hope for you. I hope… and hope… and pray and hope… that each of you will live in such a way that warrants rich eternal reward. Oh, I ache to see you before the Throne in that day, being blessed by the Fount of all Blessing. Truly, for Him and Through Him and To Him are all things…

I hope that you will remember that our Heavenly Father sees all things, and rewards every action in perfect fairness… and Grace. I hope that you will remember that He always gives the greatest rewards… serving Him is ALWAYS worth it. I hope that you will remember, like Anne Kiemel, that He walks every lonely road with you. Oh, how I hope!

So that is what this is all about today. I am not alone in hoping so much for you. Your parents and teachers and friends… all of us hope for you. We are anxious to see what masterpieces you paint with the canvases of your lives. The road is tough… Failure is a very real possibility… But the reward is ever before you… Oh how we hope…

In ancient times, the LORD gave Moses a prayer of blessing for his priests to recite to the Israelites who came to give offering in the Temple. I would like to share that with you for my closing. It is from the book of Numbers, chapter 6.

"May The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace."

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Snow in April...

2009-04-04T12:59:00.004-06:00

These past days, the weather here in our particular corner of the world has been a bit out of sorts. It is the beginning of April in western Colorado, and until now, we had been enjoying the typical dry Spring... Mud had been manageable, and it seemed that Summer was right around the corner. But these past few days, maybe for a couple of weeks, we have been getting snow again. Yes, the landscape is white and the high mountain I-70 passes have been in and out of order...

Up until these storms, it seemed that maybe it was time for the construction season to enliven and begin its' annual activity. Our nation, possibly the entire globe, is embroiled in a recession and it seemed that in our little market, we were on the verge of shaking this off. But now, our optimism again finds itself on hold, waiting for things to dry off. Despite what momentary set-backs this may bring, I find myself in wonder and not despair.

You see, I believe in a God Who controls these things, Who has always controlled these things. A storm front is, for Him, less than a deep breath; a Hurricane is not even a sneeze. It strikes me as almost hilarious that humanity as a whole has grown so modern, so convinced of our abilities to subdue the Creation with enough money and effort, that we fail to see our ultimate smallness in relation to His might. Think with me for a minute about this....

With a few hurricanes, He compromised the economy of the mightiest of nations with an enormous (for us) repair bill. In June 1944, a storm front postponed the greatest, most incredible amphibious attack in the history of warfare; men with their technology at the mercy of the wind and clouds. A minor shaking of the Earth cripples entire mega-cities, so carefully constructed with all of man's ingenuity. Even a season of inclement weather can reap the loss of thousands of jobs and the end of many businesses...

But all of this seems so... active. What about the passive sovereignty which He has over geography? It is probably far more common that we recognize a catastrophe (even insurance companies would attribute those to God), but what about the rise and fall of topography and the flow of the waters over the land? These boundaries were laid out a hundred generations ago, and there is no nation or people anywhere that is not subject to them.

Cities are typically built in areas that are flat and near water, which in itself sounds simple, but demonstrates that men must work with what they are given. The wealthy typically build in high places, while the poor live in the low lands, in every time and place. The greatest of armies must always consider the battlefield itself as a determiner of success or failure, with the same ground granting favor or defeat to many armies over vast centuries. Highways and roads are always surveyed in light of the lay-of-the-land. Rivers and canyons must be bridged, water must be diverted or piped, ground must be leveled, on it goes.

In all of these things, regardless of mankind's abilities, our hubris is always tempered by the Creation we encounter. If we are honest with ourselves, we are left to realize our finitude. We are dwarfed by the Creation, which can not even begin to demonstrate the majesty of the Creator!

And so, when I see us scrambling to shovel out the driveways, I smile in spite of the task. I am drawn back to my God, my Father, Who has everything under control.

Why is U2 so cool?

2009-03-24T19:28:00.004-06:00

About a week ago, someone asked me what I see in U2. It wasn't some denial about the band's quality of music, or of their basic talent. Instead, the questioner was prodding me to find out why I felt that this band deserved some additional honor aside from the occasional listen.

It is funny how some questions get stuck in your head, you know? I mean, of all the questions to get stuck on, why this? So this weekend, I found myself on YouTube checking out their Concert videos. I have long maintained that live performances are a truer judge of a band, and usually contain an organic quality which surpasses the studio tracks, so live stuff it was. I was looking for something that could lend clarity to this nebulous "like."

I confess that I can't quite nail it down. It was an interesting search which spanned over 25 years of the band's existence. I got to see "baby-faced Bono" and the "receding hair line" Bono. I got to see the same songs performed over the course of these decades with varying points of emphasis and evolving presentations. It was interesting, even uplifting.

And maybe that is what I would stick with. By and large, U2 has always been about more than the music. Their messages ring of more than lust, like, or the latest fad.

One of their earliest songs "40" is still a staple in their concerts. It is an adaptation of Psalm 40, and it is beautiful. On one of their more recent albums, the song "Yahweh" calls on the Lord by His intimate name, and cries out for the redemption of the entire life. "Sunday Bloody Sunday" recalls the terror of an Irish Massacre, and cries out "no more!"

Bono confesses a longing that the pleasures of this life can not fill, that he anticipates will be quenched in the eternal hereafter in "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." If you can watch the rendition wherein the choir sings a Gospel version with Bono and not be stirred...

Of course, "Where the Streets Have No Name" never ceases to affect me deeply. The long musical intro is enough to provoke great emotion. It's about the Heavenly city, the place where we can finally touch the Flame. Can you remember when U2 played this song at the Superbowl halftime while the names of the 9/11 victims scrolled on the enormous screen behind them? Could any other band have even attempted that without coming off shallow or overdone? I watched it live on the television and nearly wept. Do you remember hearing Bono PRAY as the song began?

Now, believe me that I am not saying that everything they have ever produced is somehow sanctified, or that I like all their songs. Instead, they find ways to get a Christian message into the mainstream pop music world, and they have done this for a quarter century. They use a distinct artful sound, and have outlived the shallow, one-album-wonder status of so many chart-toppers.

Their lead singer proclaims his faith in Christ, swaps personal effects with the Pope, and meets with heads of state on behalf of the third world African nations... asking the wealthy nations to forgive debt which can not be repaid, and instead reach out in the name of our Lord with even more help. He does not consider himself a holy man, but preaches a social gospel nevertheless.

So... is that my final answer? I can't say. There is something about them that resonates in me, and maybe that is enough. I like to think that it isn't so subjective, but it may be so. Instead, I would suggest that there is something about them that, qualitatively, sets them above.

And I just like how they sound.

In a world of hunters and small block Chevys...

2009-03-12T21:29:00.005-06:00

A few nights ago, I was able to enjoy a treasured chat session with one of my brothers from back at Bible College. It has been almost 2 years since my attendance at Multnomah Bible College, but it seems a vague memory at times. Speaking with my friend harkened me back to that time. It wasn't quite such a lonely planet there...

You see, he and I share a certain mental aptitude that is sometimes misunderstood or even ridiculed. Words like "smart, genius, brilliant, bright, gifted" can sound like they might be compliments, and mostly they are meant as such. But there are times that these words are nearly derogatory.

"That guy is too smart." "He is SOO smart." "That guy is one of those geniuses." "We can't all be so brilliant." "You sound like some kind of genius." "I'm not a genius like YOU." "Good grief, you are brilliant." "You are way smarter than me." It goes on...

These may seem innocuous at first, but when a person hears this enough, it becomes nearly sinister. To be honest, there are times when someone says these things, and you nearly wince. It throws cold water on what could otherwise be a nice conversation.

But why? Why does it have that effect? How could it?

Well, my friend understands how it is. He is a very bright guy who is stimulated by deeper things. He and I discussed Theology and Hermeneutics and topics for Doctoral Dissertations. We enjoyed the electronic "talk" and both came away a little reassured.

In most conversations we encounter, the topics are superficial and incredibly awkward to partake of. Most social functions are tough to engage in, as we are not interested in hunting, fishing, most TV programs, pop music, most of the books on the current best-seller lists, or small block Chevys. Believe me that we ache for connection, but alas, the outlet is not a match for our power cord.

Even attending church is incredibly tough most weeks. It is usually marked by grating songs of questionable theology or lyrics, contrived social times, poorly worded prayers, and anemic messages which starve from lack of preparation and are chained to three point outlines instead of the text. In the words of my dear friend, "at church I sit on the sidelines until a tough issue comes up, at which point I am called on for a few minutes of contribution before I return to the bench."

I liken it to a gorgeous woman who nobody talks to all night at a gathering, but suddenly, someone calls her over to their group. She knows this is probably going to be odd, but out of a need to connect, she surrenders and joins their circle. Then, she is asked to stand there quietly while they look at her. When they gaze their fill, she is dismissed. That is how being "the smart guy" feels much of the time.

It is as though you are a stranger who speaks a foreign tongue. You are in a marketplace, without the local currency.

It is so terribly lonely. That is what my friend was suffering from, a malady for which we both needed treatment. You see, he and I were nearly neighbors and we shared many a discussion. We challenged each other, but mostly just liked one another's company. At times, our words were few, but the fellowship was deep. Sometimes, it was enough to walk together and look at squirrels playing in the trees. When I moved back to Colorado, these precious times were taken from us.

My friend's heart is far larger than his intellect, but most never see past the latter... I feel that I could, and that he returned this humane service. May his tribe increase!

I love teaching

2009-03-09T00:23:00.004-06:00

I love teaching.

This evening I watched one of my favorite films, "The Emperor's Club." Being that the movie revolves around a virtuous, much-beloved teacher, and that the ache of my heart is to be a great teacher, it strikes a chord deep within me. It is a movie that plows through so many themes and deep issues, it provokes me anew each time I see it. At parts of the film, I find myself filled with longing, and at other times, I find myself literally in tears.

At the outset of the film, the teacher is standing in front of his class on the first day of school. He is teaching Western Civilization at a private prep school, teaching the next generation of America's leaders. He declares boldly that, "Great ambition and conquest, without contribution, is without significance. What will your contribution be? How will history remember you?"

As I stand in front of my small class, a small part of a school that we could hardly call prestigious (yet), I wonder whether I communicate such profound truths to my class. I wonder whether I challenge them enough, both academically and ethically. What kinds of people will they become? What role do I play in this?

I don't know if other teachers go through this... this... agonizing, but I do. Will my dear students make an impact? Will they realize even a portion of their potential for the glory of our Lord? Will they serve their fellow man? Will they leave the world a better place for their having lived?

I find myself worried that some will try to find their happiness in money, instead of in the presence of the One who is the fountainhead of all joy. I worry that they will seek after fame, for fame's sake, and never defer the honor they receive to the One who deserves all honor and glory and praise. I worry that they will surrender to the sense-dulling rush of the modern world, instead of being still and knowing who is Lord.

It boils down to that simple question, you know... namely, "Who is Lord?" In my thinking, that is really what that teacher is asking in his questions. Who are you serving? If you serve yourself, you can only ever be ambitious and proud. The odds of such a person contributing much of anything is slim. By definition, they only take.

This all may sound preachy. It may even sound accusatory. It may feel as though I am pointing my long, bony finger at my class, but that is so far from the truth. Instead, I feel the uncomfortable impress of these questions on my own heart each day. What is my contribution?

It is here that the plot thickens, because to achieve the greatest effect, it can not be my effort at all. The largest contribution that I can make is letting the Lord work through me. I must be ever vigilant so that I do not chase after vanity, but serve as a conduit for a Greater Mind. "Though a grain of wheat fall and die..."

So do you see my conundrum now? I agonize over what actions I can take, what words I can speak, to help my students see past themselves. In so doing, am I so self absorbed that I cripple the process before it begins?

Sigh.

I love teaching.

A warm house and breakfast waiting...

2009-03-06T19:35:00.005-07:00

What is devotion? What does that mean?

No, I don't want the definition out of a dictionary. I wonder about this. You see, I am married, and I have been for about 12 years now. I love my wife dearly. No, I love her fiercely. Yet, it is tough to try to sustain yourself on such an intense feeling. Sometimes the mundane dulls down the flames to some really nice embers...

There was a time where I thought such a state was utterly wrong. I felt as though true love and devotion should always be maddeningly passionate. Of course, this was long before I was married myself. I listened to a married man tell me these things, and I dismissed him out of hand for such silly talk. Now, I feel that I have a little better notion of what he was trying to tell me.

My Grandfather has been dead now for... nearly 20 years. As he was a father figure to me, I find myself thinking of him often. He was married to his one and only wife for more than 50 years, right up until the day he died. His widow, my spiritual giant of a grandmother, left us in the summer of 2007 to join him... She never remarried; his until the end of her days.

One might think that this is devotion, and it is. It is a beautiful story. Sharing your life with someone is devotion, but it still seems too abstract to me; too theoretical. I find myself wanting some kind of how-to manual, something more nuts and bolts.

Over those long years, Grandma and Grandpa developed their habits of living with one another. It happens to any couple, I suppose, and it is here that I feel the embers are kindled. You see, after Grandpa retired, he diverted a good deal of his attentions to taking care of Grandma. He awoke every morning and made her breakfast. In the long Minnesota winters, he rose early in the morning, descended the stairs into the basement, and stoked the wood stove to ensure a warm house for Grandma when she arose. A warm house and breakfast waiting...

There is a beauty here that makes me think I am getting close to an answer. What could be more common than bacon and eggs in the skillet? What could be more matter-of-fact than starting a fire in a cold house? Yet it is not these activities that define this devotion, but the intention behind them. You decide that you will give yourself to someone through thick and thin. You make up your mind that you will serve them and meet their needs as best you can. You may find yourself in great and terrible straits, clinging to one another. Sometimes it's as simple as getting up and trying not to burn the bacon.

For some reason, this resonates with me. The everyday things imbued with the deep dignity of a steadfast heart: the common sanctified in love, the heroic sacrifice of the dutiful life.

One winter morning, Grandma woke up to a cold house. She rolled over in bed, to find his body present, but his spirit gone. Devoted to the end...

To be or not to be... Dad

2009-03-01T20:31:00.005-07:00

Today, was/is Sunday. The missus and I slept as long as the kids would let us, got up, and went to church. I lovingly clutched my stainless steel coffee cup, read my Greek New Testament, and tried to listen to the sermon throughout the service.

As we were leaving the Big House (as I like to think of it), I realized that it was ridiculously nice outside. Blue sky, warm, western Colorado... For those cold souls who haven't seen it, I just don't have words.

We got home and had a little lunch, and an uncomfortable thought began to occur to me. I am a part-time teacher at that private school my kids attend, and I am behind on getting all my grading done. However, this is one of those days that a good dad would probably find some kind of outdoor activity to partake of with his family. Lo, as Frost saw the two roads diverging before him, so was I...

I have a long history of replacing the best with the good and getting wrapped up in anything but being a dad. I have had good jobs full of responsibility, challenging classes at college, ministries, etc... All seem to cry out with great needs or great challenges... All good things, but not best...

Responsibility... the disapproval of my unrelenting students... the pressure... I should be grading stuff...

But... the sun is shining. The kids haven't seen much of the sick dad-guy this last week... Growing up fast...

We went to the park. Nononono, We WALKED to the park. And the kids climbed some trees... It was cool.

Therapy... and fathering?

2009-03-01T20:01:00.004-07:00

This weekend, I have getting my feet back under me after a week of illness. It has been a pretty miserable week, let me tell you!

So on Saturday, the family patriarch (Big Papa) came to me and informed me that a small landslide had blocked a steep, narrow road which had been pioneered up a mountain several years ago on his property. He had discovered it while out riding his ATV. He asked me if I might be interested in using a piece of equipment to go clear this off for him.

Being a man of insight and wisdom, he knows that this is all the invitation that I need to go operate equipment. Of course, I said yes. Shortly after, I was on a hillside operating a Cat 430E backhoe, assaulting a pile of mud and debris. The stuff was sloppy. The road was treacherous as a result of ice. The mud on top of the ice didn't help. My young son was sitting on my lap. It was several hours well spent.

Some men get crazy about hunting, or fishing, or a small block Chevy... For me, it's the love of the yellow iron. It always has been. The nostalgia gets pretty thick as I remember sitting on my own father's lap as he operated a John Deere Grader back in Northern Minnesota. Dad was a pretty amazing operator, and I got to go share in that with him.

Will my boy remember this weekend and those couple hours with me? I dunno. Knowing how bright he is, and how well I remember things from that age; probably. Even if he doesn't, I will. It will mean something to me as I recollect that I tried to share these things with him; that I tried to share some of my life and joys with him. If there is one great truth that I have been introduced to it is this: fathers teach their sons what they know (whether they realize it or not).

At one point, I let the little guy take the sticks and throw some dirt around. He did me proud with his abilities... He is digging away and declares rather precociously "Dad, this is one of the coolest days of my life, ever."

Yeah, I think that he will probably remember.

A Warm Welcome

2009-03-01T19:29:00.003-07:00

Friends,

Thank you for stopping into my Blog. I feel that I must begin with several confessions and disclaimers.

First, this is my first blog. (Blush.) In fact, I have only ever read a few blogs, and those have been on varying topics of varying value. If you see any glaring deficiencies which expose me to the world as a blog virgin (Blush, Blush), let me know. PM, email, whatever...

Second, I have begun this blog somewhat against my will. Oh, I haven't a gun to my head or anything, but I have had several people ask me to begin this. Some have asked for deep insight into the art of writing, or Modernity, or literature, or the Holy Scriptures. I am not sure that I am up for any of them, but here is a place for us to come and share with each other.

Third, I expect all responses or replies to maintain respectful tones and appropriate language. We can be real (I hope), and we can even agree to disagree about whatever we begin here. However, do not be vulgar, crass, or blatantly disrespectful to fellow bloggers. That will get you run off my blog on a shutter. We can express disapproval or disagreement in civil terms.

Fourth, I hunger for real interaction here. Anyone who knows me knows that I like to talk. That said, on this blog, I am also hungry to listen. We may not come down to solid understanding on every issue or idea. We may never agree. You may not change my mind. Fine. Let us reason together. Let us "feel" together. Let's be real together.

In the immortal words of Big John McCarthy... "Let's Get It On!!"