NEW! Now you can LISTEN to the author reading this essay HERE: The Scrawling Shepherd reads this essay
A few days ago I wrote an article I called Normal Is Moving. If you missed it, you can find it HERE.
In that article I mentioned some ideas I have about how I want to describe, define, and develop its new location for me. Today I'm writing about the first of those ideas.
I also mentioned recently that my mind has been working hard while the rest of me is resting. Many mornings I've woken with a spaghetti pile of thoughts tumbling around like sneakers in a clothes dryer. This morning, the thread of one of those ideas was sticking out a little more prominently, where I could get hold of it and coax it loose.
We're in Week #3 (depending on when you start counting) of what we've been calling "social distancing." It's a new expression, socially engineered to be less alarming and confrontational than the old words: isolation and quarantine. But that's okay, I'm not objecting to the semantics. Words are important. That's not my point.
My thought was this: since I'm overcoming the isolation of social distancing using digital technology readily available to most of us at very little expense (besides the expense of internet access we were already paying anyway!), that means of connection has actually SHORTENED or CLOSED the distance between people who are separated by hundreds of miles of actual, real world distance.
Kelly (my wife in case you don't know me personally) and I have some very dear friends who live in Northern Maine. During the three years we lived there, we made many friendships that were and are dear to us. Since our return visits to that region are very few and very far between, it has been difficult to maintain those relationships.
Here's where I need to confess a character flaw or shortcoming that I have long known was true of me: I'm really lousy at maintaining relationships over time and distance. It's partly due to my introverted nature, but I was reminded by my pastor on Sunday that "It's just the way I am" is not an acceptable excuse for not doing the things that I should do, or becoming the person God wants me to be, and others close to me want me to become.
So, it's been my "custom" to allow the relationships I've made during a certain season in my life to wither due to neglect after I've moved on geographically, or professionally, or both. That's "my bad." (Another way of acknowledging that it's my fault without actually doing anything to change it.)
I started noticing more than a decade ago that now that we have these new platforms that eventually became known collectively as "social media," I could find and reconnect with some of those people. It started with "MySpace." Remember that one? It showed up a little earlier than Facebook, but like Compuserve, was quickly swallowed up by Facebook, and Twitter, and then Instagram, Snapchat, and whatever else is already in use.
I found and reconnected with some high school classmates, and one connection in particular gave me an opportunity to try to apologize for the poor treatment and neglect I had shown to one of those classmates. Some of you who know me well and/or have heard me talk for long enough might remember that story. I won't retell it here.
Soon, I moved over to Facebook, the social media megaladon, where I've found and reconnected with many, many other people I've known over the years: high school, college, military service, seminary (1st), seminary (2nd), and the churches and schools where I've served, as well as the secular jobs I've held over the years. All of these relationships I rediscovered were important to me AT THE TIME, but every one of them had been left to wither, starved of attention.
But all of that is changing, starting NOW. My thought this morning was that social distancing, while impacting by current relationships and style of work, has closed the distance that existed between those former and neglected relationships.
Friday night our "Home Group", the small group Kelly and I are a part of at our church, met via Zoom conferencing. (Side note: man, I wish I had the money and intelligence to buy some shares of Zoom a month ago!) We sat "together", each in our own place of isolation and distancing, but connected virtually by digital communication tools. A camera, a microphone, sound speakers, a computer to drive them and an internet connection (wireless!) facilitated our meeting. It wasn't "the same" as being in the same room. (Mostly because we couldn't share a potluck meal together!) Okay, there are other things true of meeting over distance that fall short of being in person, but since that isn't possible, this seems like the "next best thing." Some of the people in our group actually live quite close to us, geographically. We could walk to their house if we wanted to, but right now that's out of the question.
Back to my thought from this morning. If I can continue to teach my students while at home staring at a computer screen and speaking into a microphone, and if I can attend a board meeting, or a staff meeting, or an elders meeting, by Zoom, and have a satisfactory experience of seeing and hearing what others are saying, why not use the same means of connection with my friends who live hundreds of miles away?
The social distance between us is a current and temporary necessity. But in some way, the distance between those of us who are nearby and those of us who are far away is, right now, exactly the same distance.
Normal is moving. But I see a chance to go forward from where it used to be to a new, and in many ways better, situation. Get ready, friends far and wide! I may be sending you an invitation to a Zoom meeting soon!
God's blessing and peace be upon you.
Dennis
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Monday, March 30, 2020
NORMAL IS MOVING. (Part 1 in a Series)
NEW! NOW you can LISTEN to the author read this essay HERE: The Scrawling Shepherd reads "Normal Is Moving"
#NormalIsMoving. #NormalIsOnTheMove. Normal doesn't live here any more. It won't be back. I'm not really worrying about it, though. I'll find it when it settles in at its new address. Don't know where it will be or what it will look like yet. But I'll catch up to it, sure enough.
It's for the best, really. The only thing Normal's old look had going for it was, well, its familiarity. I knew right where to find it. It had really settled in. It was comfortable. Because of that, it was reassuring to me. On reflection, though (because suddenly I find myself with the time to reflect, to think. I had been putting this off, because it is so much easier not to do this. Easier to kick it down the street; to put it off until a time when I might be able to think about things without being annoyed.) Normal really hasn't done that much for me. Just kept me right where I was.
Rats. No more excuses, no more reasons not to think about things. It's time I really started looking at how really messy Normal had made things. Normal is the enemy of progress; the adversary of growth, the antagonist of change. I'd go on, but I left my thesaurus in my actual office/classroom, and in my home office/classroom/broadcasting studio, I don't have room for it.
Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty excited to imagine the possibilities of Normal's new place. In fact, I've got some ideas I'm going to suggest. For now, though, I'll keep them to myself. I don't want to spoil your joy at being able to have some input into what your new Normal is going to look like.
I just know this. I won't find Normal in the usual place any more. And now that I'm coming to realize that, I think I'll be okay. Maybe I'll be a little more reluctant to let Normal get so comfortable in its next location. #NormalIsATraveler.
#NormalIsMoving. #NormalIsOnTheMove. Normal doesn't live here any more. It won't be back. I'm not really worrying about it, though. I'll find it when it settles in at its new address. Don't know where it will be or what it will look like yet. But I'll catch up to it, sure enough.
It's for the best, really. The only thing Normal's old look had going for it was, well, its familiarity. I knew right where to find it. It had really settled in. It was comfortable. Because of that, it was reassuring to me. On reflection, though (because suddenly I find myself with the time to reflect, to think. I had been putting this off, because it is so much easier not to do this. Easier to kick it down the street; to put it off until a time when I might be able to think about things without being annoyed.) Normal really hasn't done that much for me. Just kept me right where I was.
Rats. No more excuses, no more reasons not to think about things. It's time I really started looking at how really messy Normal had made things. Normal is the enemy of progress; the adversary of growth, the antagonist of change. I'd go on, but I left my thesaurus in my actual office/classroom, and in my home office/classroom/broadcasting studio, I don't have room for it.
Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty excited to imagine the possibilities of Normal's new place. In fact, I've got some ideas I'm going to suggest. For now, though, I'll keep them to myself. I don't want to spoil your joy at being able to have some input into what your new Normal is going to look like.
I just know this. I won't find Normal in the usual place any more. And now that I'm coming to realize that, I think I'll be okay. Maybe I'll be a little more reluctant to let Normal get so comfortable in its next location. #NormalIsATraveler.
Friday, March 27, 2020
When I Finally Get to be "Unpaused," or, I See a Chance...
NEW! Now you can listen to the author read this article here: The Scrawling Shepherd reads "I See a Chance"
Friday, March 27, 2020
Yesterday I posted an article which you may have seen. If not, you can find it here: Why I am On Pause, and Why I am Okay with It.
Today I want to write the article I thought I was going to write yesterday when I sat down to write. I've been thinking about the current circumstance we're sharing: a dramatic response to a critical threat to our health. We've been put "On Pause," as we're calling it in New York. You may have a different name for it: self-quarantine, shelter-in-place, lock-in, or any number of other words or phrases.
I'm a teacher, and this circumstance has dramatically affected my work, and my way of working. We're figuring out how to continue teaching and learning over distance, using technology in most cases. Early into this experience, I began thinking about how this dramatic change will outlast the current crisis. Even when we come crawling out of our metaphorical bunkers, blinking in the bright light of day and looking around to see who else is still standing, we may never again go back to whatever was "normal" just three weeks ago.
And that got me thinking wider still. Churches, like schools, are figuring out what HAS to be included in "church" experience, and what we can do without, even if only temporarily. Our home groups have been reading and discussing Francis Chan's Letters to the Church and his observations about how we've come to expect certain things in our experience of church that aren't really lining up well with what Jesus and His apostles described, designed, and established. It has been challenging, convicting, sometimes embarrassing. But how to fix it? It's almost like we need to start over.
Start over. Huh.
I see a chance here. I see an opportunity to restart. To get a "do over." A Mulligan.
I see a chance to finally, finally, put some distance between the church and that ugly label, that ugly sweater we keep wearing even though nobody likes it, called "hypocrisy." "The church is full of hyprocrites." I've heard it all my life, or at least it seems like I have. And as soon as I try to deny it, to say that "well, it might be true of them, but it's definitely not true of me," I get that all-too-familiar poke of the Holy Spirit's conviction and I have to withdraw my objection, my deflection, and put that ugly, smelly, scratchy sweater back on again.
But I see a chance. I see a chance to take that old mildewy, moldy, scratchy, smelly sweater out to the firepit in my back yard and burn it on a funeral pyre. And once I get it burning in a big, roaring, purifying, consuming fire, let's rummage around and see what other ugly things have been clinging to me that I can also use to feed the Refiner's fire.
I see a chance for a fresh start. A new beginning. A clean slate.
I want to be a different kind of Christian, a different kind of follower. I want to be the kind of follower of Jesus that doesn't attract labels like hypocrite, or judgmental, or exclusive, or prejudiced, or bigoted, or any of the other negative labels that have been attached to Christians in our culture. If I am going to be criticized, let it be because I have been trying to follow the example and the teaching of Christ as shown in God's Word, the Bible. Not legalistically, like the Pharisees of Jesus' day that were the first to carry the label of hypocrite. But lovingly. Let that be my legacy.
I'm Just a Nobody. (This is a live link to a music video by Casting Crowns, with Matthew West.)
It shouldn't have taken a global pandemic to get my attention. There's been a pandemic going already, from the early days of human history. It's transmitted by birth. It's the original STD. It infects EVERYONE. It has a 100% mortality rate. Nobody is immune. No one escapes or avoids it. It reaches everything, everywhere. It's responsible for every other illness. It's the root cause of every war, every act of cruelty. It gives birth to fear, hatred, mistrust, untruth, lust, rebellion, violence, addiction, abuse, poverty, hunger, thirst, and every other awful thing that is a part of the history of our world. It goes by many names, but I call it sin.
We've been dealing it with for so long, we have stopped talking about it, stopped fighting against it. We've found ways to become comfortable with it, to anesthetize ourselves against its worst symptoms, and otherwise ignore it, pretending it isn't lurking there, waiting to kill us. Because it does kill us. All of us.
That's the first truth of the Good News, the Gospel. We are all sinners.
Doesn't really sound like very good news. And by itself, it isn't. The good part starts with point #2: God loves us. Even while we were still sinners, God loved us, and gave His Only Begotten Son do die for us.
Jesus Christ is the Cure for this fatal disease! Look unto Him, all you to the ends of the earth, and be saved! Isaiah 45:22.
I see a Chance. Do you see what I see? Come stand next to me. Let's see if we can take this chance together. Maybe we can do it better, together, this time.
Friday, March 27, 2020
Yesterday I posted an article which you may have seen. If not, you can find it here: Why I am On Pause, and Why I am Okay with It.
Today I want to write the article I thought I was going to write yesterday when I sat down to write. I've been thinking about the current circumstance we're sharing: a dramatic response to a critical threat to our health. We've been put "On Pause," as we're calling it in New York. You may have a different name for it: self-quarantine, shelter-in-place, lock-in, or any number of other words or phrases.
I'm a teacher, and this circumstance has dramatically affected my work, and my way of working. We're figuring out how to continue teaching and learning over distance, using technology in most cases. Early into this experience, I began thinking about how this dramatic change will outlast the current crisis. Even when we come crawling out of our metaphorical bunkers, blinking in the bright light of day and looking around to see who else is still standing, we may never again go back to whatever was "normal" just three weeks ago.
And that got me thinking wider still. Churches, like schools, are figuring out what HAS to be included in "church" experience, and what we can do without, even if only temporarily. Our home groups have been reading and discussing Francis Chan's Letters to the Church and his observations about how we've come to expect certain things in our experience of church that aren't really lining up well with what Jesus and His apostles described, designed, and established. It has been challenging, convicting, sometimes embarrassing. But how to fix it? It's almost like we need to start over.
Start over. Huh.
I see a chance here. I see an opportunity to restart. To get a "do over." A Mulligan.
I see a chance to finally, finally, put some distance between the church and that ugly label, that ugly sweater we keep wearing even though nobody likes it, called "hypocrisy." "The church is full of hyprocrites." I've heard it all my life, or at least it seems like I have. And as soon as I try to deny it, to say that "well, it might be true of them, but it's definitely not true of me," I get that all-too-familiar poke of the Holy Spirit's conviction and I have to withdraw my objection, my deflection, and put that ugly, smelly, scratchy sweater back on again.
But I see a chance. I see a chance to take that old mildewy, moldy, scratchy, smelly sweater out to the firepit in my back yard and burn it on a funeral pyre. And once I get it burning in a big, roaring, purifying, consuming fire, let's rummage around and see what other ugly things have been clinging to me that I can also use to feed the Refiner's fire.
I see a chance for a fresh start. A new beginning. A clean slate.
I want to be a different kind of Christian, a different kind of follower. I want to be the kind of follower of Jesus that doesn't attract labels like hypocrite, or judgmental, or exclusive, or prejudiced, or bigoted, or any of the other negative labels that have been attached to Christians in our culture. If I am going to be criticized, let it be because I have been trying to follow the example and the teaching of Christ as shown in God's Word, the Bible. Not legalistically, like the Pharisees of Jesus' day that were the first to carry the label of hypocrite. But lovingly. Let that be my legacy.
I'm Just a Nobody. (This is a live link to a music video by Casting Crowns, with Matthew West.)
It shouldn't have taken a global pandemic to get my attention. There's been a pandemic going already, from the early days of human history. It's transmitted by birth. It's the original STD. It infects EVERYONE. It has a 100% mortality rate. Nobody is immune. No one escapes or avoids it. It reaches everything, everywhere. It's responsible for every other illness. It's the root cause of every war, every act of cruelty. It gives birth to fear, hatred, mistrust, untruth, lust, rebellion, violence, addiction, abuse, poverty, hunger, thirst, and every other awful thing that is a part of the history of our world. It goes by many names, but I call it sin.
We've been dealing it with for so long, we have stopped talking about it, stopped fighting against it. We've found ways to become comfortable with it, to anesthetize ourselves against its worst symptoms, and otherwise ignore it, pretending it isn't lurking there, waiting to kill us. Because it does kill us. All of us.
That's the first truth of the Good News, the Gospel. We are all sinners.
Doesn't really sound like very good news. And by itself, it isn't. The good part starts with point #2: God loves us. Even while we were still sinners, God loved us, and gave His Only Begotten Son do die for us.
Jesus Christ is the Cure for this fatal disease! Look unto Him, all you to the ends of the earth, and be saved! Isaiah 45:22.
I see a Chance. Do you see what I see? Come stand next to me. Let's see if we can take this chance together. Maybe we can do it better, together, this time.
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Why I am "On Pause..." and Why I'm Okay With It.
NEW! Now you can listen to the writer read this essay HERE: Click Here to listen to the Scrawling Shepherd read this essay
It's Thursday, March 26, 2020.
Like most of America, and quite possibly, most of the world, I am at home. "Sheltering in place", some are saying. Here in New York, we are not officially sheltering in place. Instead, we are "On Pause."
I'm a teacher. I teach Bible classes at Harmony Christian School, grades 7-12. The 7th and 8th graders are still kids, and they know that they are kids, and are content to behave like kids. The high schoolers, of course, believe themselves to be "adults", or at least, want to be treated like adults, so except in their most unguarded moments, they don't let themselves be seen behaving like kids.
The kids, though, occasionally play this "game." One of them points an imaginary remote controller, or "air controller" (my words, not theirs) at another one or other ones of them, pretends to push a button with his or her thumb, and declares "pause." At which, the target kid(s) actually pause. Until the "god kid" (the kid with the air controller) depresses the imaginary button again and declares "unpause." (Is "unpause" an actual word? My spell checker tells me that it is not. Or, was it an actual word before remote controllers?)
Consequently, when New York was declared to be "On Pause" a day or two ago, this image of children playing resurfaced in my admittedly strange (damaged?) mind. The magic of the game is in the willing cooperation of the players. There is no actual remote control. No "pause" button. No control, whether digital, infrared, Bluetooth, or other communication link, exists. The "god" player declares it, and the "subject" players comply. These labels, "god" and "subject", are my labels, not theirs. I suspect that they don't even think about this in any kind of analytical way. That's my construct.
But in a very real sense, that is what is happening here around us. The "god" player--in this case, the Governor of the State of New York--has figuratively pressed a button on a very, very large remote control. Whether or not it works will depend to a very great degree on the willing cooperation of we the "subject" players, i.e., the citizens, residents, of the state. Will we actually pause?
When you pause an image on your television/video screen, the image is frozen. If there is a person in the image, that person is not blinking. He/she is "frozen" in place. When you "unpause" that image, the person thus frozen instantly resumes his/her action exactly as if nothing had happened, NO MATTER HOW LONG THE PAUSE WAS IN EFFECT.
And that is the point of divergence between TV pause and RL pause. (Oops. I'd better explain the acronyms. TV is shorthand for Television. Everyone knows that. But only people in the texting generation will know that RL is shorthand for Real Life.) The TV pause is artificial. It's done for convenience, so that I can get up from the comfortable chair, go get a free refill of my beverage from the kitchen, refresh my empty bowl of popcorn, and attend to other matters of personal comfort. And, I can do all of this without missing any of the content of the program I am viewing.
This RL pause is done for similar, but vastly different reasons. Similar in the sense that it gives me a chance to attend to my personal comfort needs and wishes. But that's where the similarity ends. It's not simply a matter of personal comfort and convenience. And I will most definitely be missing out on some things that would otherwise have been happening while I/we have been patiently waiting out the "Pause."
Here's why I'm pausing, as I understand it. Feel free to add to my list or challenge some of my thoughts in a comment below.
It's Thursday, March 26, 2020.
Like most of America, and quite possibly, most of the world, I am at home. "Sheltering in place", some are saying. Here in New York, we are not officially sheltering in place. Instead, we are "On Pause."
I'm a teacher. I teach Bible classes at Harmony Christian School, grades 7-12. The 7th and 8th graders are still kids, and they know that they are kids, and are content to behave like kids. The high schoolers, of course, believe themselves to be "adults", or at least, want to be treated like adults, so except in their most unguarded moments, they don't let themselves be seen behaving like kids.
The kids, though, occasionally play this "game." One of them points an imaginary remote controller, or "air controller" (my words, not theirs) at another one or other ones of them, pretends to push a button with his or her thumb, and declares "pause." At which, the target kid(s) actually pause. Until the "god kid" (the kid with the air controller) depresses the imaginary button again and declares "unpause." (Is "unpause" an actual word? My spell checker tells me that it is not. Or, was it an actual word before remote controllers?)
Consequently, when New York was declared to be "On Pause" a day or two ago, this image of children playing resurfaced in my admittedly strange (damaged?) mind. The magic of the game is in the willing cooperation of the players. There is no actual remote control. No "pause" button. No control, whether digital, infrared, Bluetooth, or other communication link, exists. The "god" player declares it, and the "subject" players comply. These labels, "god" and "subject", are my labels, not theirs. I suspect that they don't even think about this in any kind of analytical way. That's my construct.
But in a very real sense, that is what is happening here around us. The "god" player--in this case, the Governor of the State of New York--has figuratively pressed a button on a very, very large remote control. Whether or not it works will depend to a very great degree on the willing cooperation of we the "subject" players, i.e., the citizens, residents, of the state. Will we actually pause?
When you pause an image on your television/video screen, the image is frozen. If there is a person in the image, that person is not blinking. He/she is "frozen" in place. When you "unpause" that image, the person thus frozen instantly resumes his/her action exactly as if nothing had happened, NO MATTER HOW LONG THE PAUSE WAS IN EFFECT.
And that is the point of divergence between TV pause and RL pause. (Oops. I'd better explain the acronyms. TV is shorthand for Television. Everyone knows that. But only people in the texting generation will know that RL is shorthand for Real Life.) The TV pause is artificial. It's done for convenience, so that I can get up from the comfortable chair, go get a free refill of my beverage from the kitchen, refresh my empty bowl of popcorn, and attend to other matters of personal comfort. And, I can do all of this without missing any of the content of the program I am viewing.
This RL pause is done for similar, but vastly different reasons. Similar in the sense that it gives me a chance to attend to my personal comfort needs and wishes. But that's where the similarity ends. It's not simply a matter of personal comfort and convenience. And I will most definitely be missing out on some things that would otherwise have been happening while I/we have been patiently waiting out the "Pause."
Here's why I'm pausing, as I understand it. Feel free to add to my list or challenge some of my thoughts in a comment below.
- To keep myself as safe as possible, I'm avoiding contact with others, who may, inadvertently or advertently (evidently also not a word, though it should be), try to kill me. Or at least make me very sick.
- Similar to #1, only possibly even more important) to keep other people as safe FROM ME as possible, so that I don't inadvertently or
advertently to hurt or kill them. - To minimize my demand on the limited resources and infrastructure that needs to be refocused on helping those already sick, and finding an effective way or ways to KILL COVID-19. (Incidentally, I HATE YOU, COVID-19. But God tells me that Vengeance is His, so I'm asking God to annihilate you, COVID-19, using any and all of the not insignificant resources at His control. Which, by the way, is EVERYTHING. So, if I were you, COVID-19, I would take whatever time left you have on this Earth and run. Run as far as you can, as fast as you can. Run away. But it won't matter. Because there is no place where you can run and/or hide where My God cannot, will not, find you.) There. That felt pretty good.
- To show my support of... well, of all of you, by doing my part as a citizen to respect and obey authority, to exercise good judgment on behalf of myself, my family, friends, neighbors, and strangers who share our world.
- To set an example for others. Not that anyone is watching me, in particular, but if I do have any influence on anyone, let my example be one that helps others, not the opposite.
When I started writing this blog article/entry today, I had a different title and another article altogether in mind. But as I wrote the first few lines, and then a few more, I realized that I wasn't writing what I thought I wanted to write at all. But I kept writing anyway, and as it turns out, I actually WAS writing what I wanted to write after all. I just didn't know it yet.
Perhaps I'll still write the other article. I still want to. Keep an eye out for it. The title is, or was going to be, "I See a Chance." Don't steal my idea or my article, though! Or maybe, do steal it. Perhaps you'll say it better.
[Update: I DID write that article! If you're curious, you can find it HERE.
[Update: I DID write that article! If you're curious, you can find it HERE.
I love you!
(In the words of the not very articulate but sometimes funny comedian Larry the Cable Guy, "I don't care who you are, that's funny!" I'm saying to you, I don't care who you are. Even if I don't know you. Or even if I do know you and we're not friends. From one human being to another. "I love you!" Believe it or don't. Take it or leave it. But I mean it.)
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