a new name tag

It is weird no longer wearing a church name tag or carrying a minister's business card. There are things I confess I already miss. To be entirely transparent, I miss being seen as having something official to say about faith, about God. When you are on staff at a church, people lend their ear to your words on these subjects and they expect you to have something helpful to say. When you no longer carry that card, your opinion is not wrapped in the same official "he might know what he's talking about" packaging. You're just a guy, who likes to ramble on about atonement and a bunch of Hebrew midrash stuff. I also miss being known by a community. I miss walking into a building full of people and having some kind of connection to all of them either through a handshake, a hug, or through a microphoned-prayer. There is a strong sense of isolation which comes when that microphone is forever disconnected and your identity is not known by a large, connected community. I think both of those voids have led me to desire to blog more often. I want people to hear what I think about things. Even if they think differently... I want to have a pulpit or a soap box. I also want to have connections to a community, even if this amounts to a virtual microphone or digital hugs and handshakes. I think after 15 years it is strange no longer having an audience. And if I can be honest, I miss it.

So what is next? Well I hope to do some of the things I've told other people to pursue over the last decade and a half. I want to play, I want to pray, I want to create, and I want to befriend. Hopefully I will make enough money in between these priorities to fund my new life, but my career is second place at this point. I am working to live,...in every sense. I am excited about what this new chapter might entail. I have heard rumors of what can happen to the boy who gets everything they want...they live happily ever after. However, since Charlie Bucket never wrote a blog, we aren't quite sure about the accuracy of that prediction...

my address in Egypt

I was recently discussing with my some colleagues the virtues of practicing Sabbath as a follower of Jesus. There were many levels of conversation about what Sabbath-keeping included, and what was outside the bounds of Sabbath. After that conversation I took a moment to read the scriptures to see if I could gain any further insight into this practice foreign to most modern gentiles. There are two main passages in the Hebrew scriptures where Sabbath is commanded. One is in the book of the Exodus, where it connects Sabbath to creation and the idea that God was content with how things were, nothing more to add. No anxiety over whether to add more legs to the spider or whether the giraffe's neck was indeed long enough. There was space to admire, be in awe, and be okay. The other passage is in Deuteronomy. In that passage Sabbath is linked to the idea that Jews can experience leisure as a way to distinguish themselves from their history of Slavery in Egypt. Slaves cannot choose to designate a day for leisure, but they were no longer slaves so they must do so intentionally. This was the experience of Sabbath which was meant to speak to me, and i think to many modern americans. I think we still live in Egypt. I'm not sure I've gotten the message that I have been liberated. I don't live in the reality of that awareness. Instead, i can feel my shackles. I run, and work, and stress, and fill. I don't stretch, and smile, and notice, and relax. Some invisible whip is taking me to task. And I obey. I would like to be free. I would like to say a little less that "I've just been busy." I have read many inspiring essays and prayers about slowing down, and soaking in the goodness of creation and time. And I have left those writings and prayers believing they were indeed nice thoughts that someone should definitely try out at some point. We give those kinds of perspectives a nod, but then we realize that they could not be talking about living that way on our planet. If they only inhabited our skin for a bit, they would realize the absurdity in which they write. Maybe I will choose to leave Egypt. However, I know it's not that easy. It takes following a cloud by day and pillar of fire by night. It takes crossing through a divided sea. It takes intentionality and sacrifice. I will have to say "No, I can't do that" to people who will think me irresponsible or uncommitted. I will have to push out the margins of my day so I can find sabbath. I want to share a video from a conference I attended where the speaker, Mark Yaconelli speaks of this need for sabbath in a talk about "Joining Slow Club".