Monday, December 17, 2012

Open House

Deb and I did again what we've learned to do in the past; we opened the front door to our home.

We live in a neighborhood where people don't necessarily know each other. We're all somewhat aware of neighbor's work patterns and their respective schedules for using the laundry room, but as a neighborhood of neighbors ours is not tight. There is no Block Watch (which in our case would be called Bear Watch); no history of shared events.

So Deb and I opened our home on Saturday night to our neighbors. Deb had hung invitations on doors the week previous. We cleaned the house (always a good thing) and went Costco shopping. We put on the Christmas music (Deb let me choose) and waited, wondering if anyone would show up. Again, our neighborhood has no history of hospitality given or received.

But people did come. Some admitted to being initially apprehensive; understandably so; but they came. Janelle and Gary (who's cancer will only give him weeks or perhaps months to live) joined us. Jerry came and gifted us some of his Native art. Sylvia (who I had not so much as even seen before) came. Jeff and Denise came, and brought Copper River salmon (in my view, always the perfect holiday gift.) And Neil and Jada brought their infant daughter, who Deb and I fought over for holding rights, but we had to give her back at the end of the evening.

We talked about our respective work and work places, our histories and families, and in some cases we even talked of our faith. And we were told more than once, "Thanks for doing this; it's never been done before." Some told us they had no experience being in a stranger's home.

Showing hospitality is what Deb and I know we are to do; joyfully and regularly. Being hospitable allows us to mirror our God Who in Himself invented and proved hospitality as our Redeemer and Reconciler.

Deb and I are now a little torn. We've been looking for a home with a bigger living room, maybe closer to the University where Deb works. But now we're torn, in that maybe we're supposed to stick around here a while longer so we can help Janelle and Gary in the days ahead, and maybe so we can host a summer barbeque.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Biology

For reasons unbeknownst to me I accepted a two-week substitute teaching job. Teaching biology.

I took biology in high school. Mrs. Kasai was an exceptional teacher. I was even her T.A. for a semester my senior year. But it doesn't necessarily mean I learned biology; at least I don't remember learning biology. I took biology in college. "Biology for Non-Majors." No kidding. Five days per week. My classmates and I did the work. Sort of. That was the class where the soon-to-retirement professor took role each day by passing an attendance sheet up and down the rows. My four buddies and I had a system. I attended class on Tuesdays and dutifully signed my amigos in as present. And, no, I didn't learn biology there either. I do remember having a book, and once passing a tapeworm in a jar from one row to the next.

And so this week I found myself "teaching biology." Payback, maybe. Ironically, the unit this week was on "viruses," and I came down with a virus of my own. NyQuil is now my bedtime friend. Biology included lots of terms that took me days to even learn how to pronounce. I told the kids in each class they knew as much about biology as I did. The kids in AP Biology easily agreed.

I learned that some classes and subjects can be "faked." English, history, music, drama and language arts have already provided me ample room for fake teaching moments. If I ever get assigned to a P.E. class I am sure I will be money. But some subjects cannot be faked. Biology is one. And while the "fake it 'til you make it" mandate did improve for me over the week, I will continue to experience a steep learning curve this next week.

I remember reading somewhere that most adults, almost all adults have moments in their work careers when they are sure they are unprepared and under-qualified to do what they're being paid to do; wondering if/when someday someone else will call them out. Being a pastor I more than relate. I also know what it is to feel under-qualified to be a husband and father, still to this day.

Grace is being given something you do not deserve. With God, it's being given a freedom and a status and a community for which I am not qualified. This week, in spite of my own virus field study (head cold) and another week of biology classes I am even more mystified by God's incredible and abundant grace to me.

And I remain thankful that surgeons and airplane pilots and people who build airplanes at Boeing don't feel under-qualified. At least I hope so.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Family

Alaska, and particularly Southeast Alaska (that part of Alaska the rest of Alaska isn't necessarily convinced is a part of Alaska) is home to unique cultural phenomena. I know; everyone wants to say their home and region is culturally unique; I get that. But Alaska is Alaska; a place unlike any other.

Needless to say the weather presents certain challenges to those who live here. Friends north of us are dealing with sub zero temps, while our own "balmy" daytime highs leave me feeling almost guilty; but not guilty enough to move north. Daytime does not necessarily mandate daylight, and where else in the world do people talk about vitamin D consumption as a part of daily conversation?

Distance can be a challenge. Here in Southeast each city constitutes a functional island, since one cannot drive from one to the next. And distance creates a felt sense of isolation. Some like the isolation, while others do not. There is talk of the State building a road from Juneau to Skagway, connecting us to Alaska and the outside world, even Canada I guess. The general populace here is split; right down the middle, each sporting bumper stickers that say "Build the Road!" or "Don't Build the Road!"

Many if not most of us living in Southeast Alaska are away, a long way away from hometowns and family. So when it comes to the holidays Southeast Alaskans make due by forming functional if not actual family connections. Such was true for us this past Thanksgiving weekend.

Deb and I were/are without our children. Our friends the Hanley's, also without their children invited us to join them (note comments on distance above.) Their friend Colleen was attempting to fly from Anchorage to Sitka but was stuck in Juneau (note comments on weather above.) Andrew the "first nephew" of Alaska was home caring for the "first dog" of Alaska, and they both joined us for feasting as well. We became a family; Alaskan style.

The night before Deb and I helped serve Thanksgiving dinner to the students at UAS. Even for those few hours it felt like a family gathering. And the deep-fried turkey ruled, until it was ruled by the locusts that consumed it.

Southeast Alaskans crave family because they are away, a long way away from family. This cultural phenomena gives the Church in Alaska a wonderful and sacred opportunity: to create gospel communities that feel and function like family. Alaskans are unique, but not all that different from anyone else - they want to be near their family.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Double Nickel Reflections

Birthdays come and go. My father modeled to me the art and science of attempting to fly under the radar when our respective birthdays come each November. Facebook has not helped my cause as of late.

This year, hitting the double nickel benchmark finds me a bit reflective; reflecting on God's bountiful blessings for sure, and reflecting on my still ongoing maturation process. Maybe it's the late fall Alaska landscape that induces such deep, and therefore for me alien thoughts. Maybe not.

While no one has ever, ever accused me of being more mature than my age, I do see some signs of maturity slowly taking root in me. Slowly. I'm a chronic late developer.

I realize I don't always have answers, and my self-appointed role as the "answer man" has been discredited over time. I am not so quick to enter into a philosophical or ideological fight, not so quick to point out the faults in other people, not nearly so consumed with being impressive. And I've learned to applaud and not internally jeer the husky joggers I see from time to time along the roadways, knowing I am now in their camp. Only by God's grace, and out of His concern for other people, the priestly side of me is growing. I am becoming strangely more compassionate.

It's been my privilege to live in beautiful places up and down the west coast. I realize I have been blessed beyond measure with enduring friendships. And I have learned that God does His best lesson-giving in my life through the more difficult circumstances I encounter, especially those encounters I bring on myself. I am learning to pray from new levels of need and greater heights of praise.

The gospel of Jesus is more mysterious to me than it's ever been. I am learning that the Church is organism, a family, rather than static organization; a garden rather than a gated community. I see now that my life is borne out of my identity rather than my production. I've learned that head knowledge does not by itself bring about transformation. And I'm amazed it took me this long to figure this out.

And I see, finally, that God is not lucky to have me. I am fortunate to be His. Grace is being given something not deserved, and I have been given grace.

And I'm learning I can no longer make assumptions about the pants size I wear.


Thursday, November 8, 2012

Great Dark North

Even here in Alaska we were at least aware of the recently concluded election cycle. Like anyone else we voted and then followed the national returns with an eye on our own local results as well. And so it goes, and we resume our regular programming.

And, to be honest I've had my mind on other things.

I've had my mind on the SF Giants World Series win. I don't consider myself a rabid baseball fan (that's reserved for soccer) but the idea of the Giants winning it all now twice in my own lifetime is something I (or my grade school friends) never imagined. I have been sporting a Giants cap around town. But there remains, as always one perplexing question: If it's the "World" Series, why don't we invite any other countries to play?

I've had my mind on the encroaching darkness. Our Alaskan days are getting shorter, at a rate I have never encountered - probably because I've never lived this far north. Locals tell me to expect darkness by 3:30 on December afternoons. Some exaggerate and tell me it's more like 2:30. We live in a spectacularly beautiful place, but we may not see it again until late spring. Great Dark North it is.

I have had my mind on the "Church" as concept and as ideal. In recent years my notions of Church have changed, and trying now to put this to paper and thus transferable is a current challenge. I am seeing Church less as organization and more as family; not so much as static entity as dynamic movement. If the Church is a "family of missionary servants learning how to be and make disciples of Jesus," this has direct implications for how we talk about and gather the church here in Juneau and Southeast Alaska. It really has implications for how the Church functions as the Church.

I've had my mind on my wife. Then again, I've always had my mind on my wife. I am so glad I get to share this "middle age couple picks up and moves to Alaska to the bewilderment of their friends and family" adventure with her. Wouldn't trade it, and absolutely wouldn't trade her. And the fact she hasn't talked about upgrading is nice for me, too.

And I've had my mind on picking up new diversions, fun things to go out and do. I want to go stand up paddle boarding (this summer, when I can again actually see what the outside looks like) and bow hunting. But first I have to take up hunting.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Northern Exposure

We are reminded at regular intervals that we live in Alaska; not that we necessarily forget. Life is lived in some respects not unlike it might be anywhere else, but here it comes with an Alaskan twist. Our recent weekend reminded us of just that.

Friday Deb and I had tea and conversation with Governor Parnell and his wife, Sandy. Such nice people! We enjoyed a tour of the Governor's House and the pumpkin scones while Annie the yellow lab took a nap out our feet. We talked about their lives and how Deb and I could best be their friends. We laughed about their not-so-normal lives, about paying for daughters' weddings, and our personal histories. They laughed at my humor. We prayed with and over them, and made tentative plans to do it again.

Deb and I then went to our beloved Island Pub for pizza, and ran into people we know. That happens a lot here, running into people you know. Kind of a Juneau thing, if not an Alaskan thing.

Saturday, with the weather sunny but in the 20's we went for a hike on the Treadwell Mine trails. We felt so Alaskan, only because we felt so cold, I guess.

Saturday evening we enjoyed dinner with our friends Joe and Karen before the four of us made our way downtown to St. Anne's Catholic Church. It was there we "contra" and square danced to the melodic sounds of a band playing all your favorite French-Canadian dance tunes. The crowd was made up of long time Juneau residents, some with the requisite gray pony tails, with a few college students thrown in, (the room, not the pony tails.) Clearly a "northern exposure" moment for us.

Apparently we missed the rumblings of a 7.7 earthquake while we were busy pretending to be dancers. I received several texts from well-meaning friends warning us of a tsunami alert. Note: it would be a bigger than big deal if a tsunami hit our shores here in Juneau, protected by nearby landmass from such catastrophe as we are. Our friends south of us and closer to the epicenter perhaps had more cause for concern.

Sunday was devoted to our watching the Giants winning the World Series. Nothing uniquely Alaskan about that, but it does bear mention. And on Monday I was invited to go deer hunting, responding to that text while hearing duck-hunters shooting said ducks a half mile away.

Our northern exposure moments seem to come fast and furious at times, and more subtle at other times. For a couple of former Californians, we enthusiastically embrace all those moments.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Assistant Principal

Substitute teachers take assignments because they want the work; or in my case because I want to teach without holding the proper credentials. Substitutes are presented each day with available jobs respective to their qualifications. Somehow the system must have malfunctioned.

Today is my final day as Substitute Assistant Principal at Thunder Mountain High School. (You read that correctly.) I can only wonder what the School Board, parents and taxpayers are thinking.

Upon my first day (Wednesday) on the job Karin (who really runs the place) escorted me to a very nice upstairs office with a view down of the Commons below. Kind of like "eye in the sky." I was given a walkie-talkie, and told to "go be a presence" in the building. What a job description! What a country!

Earl, who knows everything about the school came up to me and kindly introduced himself before giving me the 411 on how it all happens at TMHS. The counseling staff all introduced themselves and asked "if I needed anything." Dan, the real Principal (with real credentials) thanked me at the end of the day...for doing my job...like I was doing them all a favor.

I have made friends with students, and hung out with the Polynesian Brotherhood in the mornings. I have certainly made up for the mornings I didn't run by putting in multiple miles roaming the hallways each day. I have "encouraged" students toward their classes and rounded up strays like a cattle driver (cue western theme music.) They have all been very kind to me, making my "job" so much easier. And I'm sure my being fortified with caffeine and Sudafed due to an unpleasant head cold has made me just that much more engaging.

On Monday I return to "usual sub guy status." But today, in my last official act as Substitute Assistant Principal I am going to recommend raises for all the staff.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Bivocationicity

Vocational pastoral ministry is a strange bird. Some enter into it based solely on a confirmed sense of calling. Others perhaps get into it because of similar calling...and a motivation to land a career that doesn't require any heavy lifting.

For church starter guys, there is a sense the church has "arrived" when the church starter guy finds himself no longer dependent on "outside employment," making him "full time." In many cases, a church's growth trajectory is measured by the subsequent hiring/s of full-time employees. This is not necessarily a bad thing. I've certainly lived it and benefited from being full time myself. If I were to drop those full time church starter guys from my Facebook friends list, my friends list would be cut in half. (The only benefit to that would be having that many fewer birthdays to acknowledge, I guess.)

Since my college days I have engaged in 26 years of full time vocational pastoral ministry. (Even reading this it seems like a lot.) Wedged into those years since college I also engaged in 8 years of "marketplace employment." (Two feet on one banana peel.) 5 of those 8 years qualified as "bi-vocational." (Each foot on a banana peel.) We refer to those 8 years around our house as "the years we made money."

This past weekend, under  the guidance of my professional career advisor bride, I "reoriented" my social media accounts to reflect a more "marketplace" orientation. It's not that I'm ashamed of my vocational life; it's just that my vocational church life doesn't necessarily translate directly into the marketplace, (meaning, it makes for a confusing resume to whoever is reading said resume.)

I reoriented my social media accounts because I am excited about being bi-vocational, even long term bi-vocational. I am currently applying for jobs that are not part-time, and are not necessarily flexible. I am beginning to see bivocationicity (my word; I made it up) not as a departure but as essential to what it means to be a church starter guy here in Alaska.

We church starter guys want our church people to be the church, even and especially out in the marketplace. I guess I want to be involved in that myself. Again.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Control Issues

Okay, I admit it; I have control issues. My unbending belief in God's sovereignty, my trust in His gracious providence and my hope in His already accomplished acceptance of me too often come up against my innate desire to control my circumstances.

Too often I take the words of Genesis 1:26 and 28 (to "subdue" and "have dominion over" the earth) too literally. I like observable, tangible progress. I like seeing things happen. I want to control my circumstances and those associated outcomes while avoiding the more negative version of outcomes: consequences. And I want it all to happen according to my own self-imposed timeline/s.

I wonder how often God laughs at me (?) I think I already know.

Working to start a new church in a new city is akin to trying to walk in a straight line with the lights off. Plans do not always go according to plan. It is not always easy to gather people into community. It is a challenge to see how each event, even what appears to be insignificant events fit together into the big picture when the big picture is not yet all lit up.

God knows I cannot handle the big picture. I'd screw it up. I'd try to amend it or speed it up. My control issues would grow exponentially. I would be a small-time tyrant, and the consequences of which would be chaos and anarchy and some seriously misguided motivations. And my unbending belief in God's sovereignty would suffer under scrutiny.

Church-planters know this, but they don't know it until they know it: church-planting is a faith walk. And maybe I can number myself among other church-planters who have learned to pray, "...Your kingdom come, Your will be done..." in a way they wouldn't if they were not church-planters.

And it may be I need to see God's will  also applies directly and today to my self-imposed timeline/s.


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Man School

Church-planting is a strange gig, but for no lack of information. The planter (me) has access to all sorts of ideas how to go about getting a new church started. Some of those ideas come from church-planting friends (ideas that work, at least somewhere else.) Some other ideas come from me (ideas of how not to do things, based on past experience.) And there are lots of ideas available from books and websites and blogs and conferences and countless other sources, usually written by successful practitioners who have earned the right to headline conferences and write books, websites, blogs and those other sources.

Church planters suffer no lack of available information. But different priorities and different methodologies lead to different kinds of churches. And the sad reality is, not every concept, not every method, not every idea is transferable; or should be.

To "exegete" the culture means to identify the histories of people who make up the city, to observe the rhythms of the city, to note the idols of the city, and to humbly "prescribe" the KIND of church the city needs, even if the city doesn't necessarily agree it needs a new church, or any church.

Every church-planter (at least the ones I know) really wants their church to be centered on Jesus. They want their people to know the gospel, and they want their people to live out the gospel. Every church-planter wants to see their people living in community with other believers, on mission. And every church-planter knows he needs to raise up other leaders who will in turn multiply other leaders.

Here in Juneau we (today) began the process of raising up and equipping church leaders. It may be these guys will never be a part of the new church plant (that exists still only in my mind), but they will be equipped to lead a church somewhere here in town.

We met this morning at 7:00 AM in a restaurant with an owner kind enough to open it up to us hours before they open for real. He believes in what we're doing. We're using two different resources (see paragraph #1.) We're beginning our journey together studying the Book of Acts, the record of how and why new churches get started in new places. We've assembled a group of men who love Jesus and have exegeted our city enough to know our city (and its churches) needs more gospel leaders who will raise up and equip other leaders in the gospel. We call it "Man School."

Is this church-planting? I don't know. Depends on the definition I suppose.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Substitute

For weeks (months) I watched my wife get up and go to work each day, while I asked God to fill my calendar and make me busy. He answered my prayers.

I've been a substitute teacher in our local public school district for three weeks now. I have substituted as an English teacher, a Drama teacher, and a Psychology teacher. I've been a para-educator for special education students, a reading specialist for Montessori students, and a PE teacher (where I made football players play "duck, duck, goose.") I even served a day as "office boy" for the nice ladies in the main office at one of our high schools.

It's a good gig, at least for me. I can pick and choose the days I work and the assignments I accept. I can also choose to be the sub desk lady's hero by taking jobs she is desperate to fill that day, even if I later regret doing so. I am learning to be flexible and patient. I am reminded that kids appreciate humor. And I am refining my skill to fake what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing.

And I am again aware of the pervasive brokenness in our world, how the entire Creation has been violated by sin and death (to quote a theologian I read this morning.) I've seen this specifically evidenced within the walls of our schools.

I've encountered kids who do not eat lunch, and not by choice. I've interacted with some students who do not bother to dream dreams or envision a positive future. I've shared a conversation with a student who is writing an essay entitled "Go to Hell, Dad." In this the student is bitterly rejecting his father who rejected him years ago.

I've come across educators who love what they do, care about the kids and gladly enter into their students' pain, on and even off the clock. And I am humbled that some of those teachers have added my name to their preferred sub lists.

So for now, part of my daytime church-planting endeavor is to be in the schools. The goal is to be an intentional peacemaker, even as a substitute, in a small way reflecting The Peacemaker. And in doing so I find myself praying, "Maranatha; Come Lord Jesus, Come!"


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Video Tour of Juneau

I started substitute teaching this week for the Juneau School District. I'm a little busy trying to get the new personal schedule figured out. As a substitute for the usual blog post (and thanks for reading, by the way) here's an update video we made for our friends at Radiant Church in Fairbanks. Enjoy!

https://vimeo.com/48209532

And for those of you who cannot imagine me teaching in a public school setting - my apologies.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Stepping Down on the Accelerator

Things up here in church-plant land have picked up in recent days. Thankfully, life is getting busier.

We've gained some unexpected support from two churches in Alaska. ChangePoint Church in Anchorage and Radiant Church in Fairbanks care about Juneau, Southeast Alaska, and participating in the formation of new churches in our State. It is humbling and exciting for us to be in partnership with these two healthy and influential churches. Conversations continue along the idea of combining our expertise and resources as a statewide church-planting collective. (Picture me as the not yet healthy, influential, short on expertise and resources character in this collective.)

We are meeting more and more people. There is growing interest on the part of several fellas to participate in  theological and missiological training here in Juneau. These guys represent different churches, different denominations, and different personal histories. I am excited to facilitate the equipping of leaders, and we anticipate beginning to do so next month. (Picture us meeting often on early weekday mornings.)

This Sunday is our second "gathering" in our living room. We hope to make this a weekly gathering beginning  in September. We're going to eat together, pray together, study our Bibles together, care for each other, and talk together about the what and why of the Church (big "C".) Deb and I are excited for this. We have friends in business, government, healthcare, and neighbors we hope will join in. (Picture us all crammed into the Rydman's cozy living room.)

In my effort to get around more people I am now on the Juneau School District's substitute list. (Picture me warping the minds of impressionable youth.) I have applied for a counselor position at the "Youth Center," (read: Juvie.) My friend Mark tells me I'm too nice for that job. (I might need a tattoo and some facial scars.) I've applied for a job as a "Graduation Coach" at the alternative high school. (Picture me with a clip board and a sweatshirt that says "I [Heart] Diploma's")

God is stepping down on the accelerator of my life. He's answering my prayers. It's time and I''m ready to pick up the pace, and follow His lead.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Urgency

Summer in Southeast Alaska is two things: 1) not long, and 2) not to be taken for granted. It's considered a "mild temperature range" around here. 60's are the new 80's. And true to form we moved here to take part in the coldest and wettest summer Juneau's had in decades. More than one person has proposed the theory that it was us who brought the cold and wet. But unlike the good folks in California, Oregon or Washington who may feel entitled to a certain summer quality level, Alaskans seem to take uncooperative weather in stride. (Save your notes and cards.)

Summer for Alaskans takes on a certain urgency. Again, because the summer is 1) not long, and 2) not to be taken for granted. There is a cultural and societal impetus here to cram as much fun as possible into the summer months (okay, days.) Because fall comes all too quick.

High school football teams around the State are entering the second week of their season. The Statewide "snow-calypse" (or here in Southeast the eleven month rain festival) is soon to settle in for good, Xtratuff's will again be mandatory footwear, and summer will only be a memory.

So while there's still time people here, us included do whatever is necessary to rearrange schedules and convolute priorities to emphasize fun. The boat marinas are nearly empty, the float planes all take to the sky, and hundreds of salmon and halibut are meeting an untimely demise as we speak.

I am busy looking for daytime work and gathering people into an initial gospel community. My bride (who already has plenty of daytime work) is busy thinking of all the places she wants to see, visit and camp. And this only proves she is already more indigenous, therefore more urgent than I am.

And (to state what may be the obvious takeaway) I want this same sense of urgency in how I live out the gospel imperatives in my life. Because, my time is 1) not long, and 2) not to be taken for granted.




Friday, August 10, 2012

Career Sabotage

Here on an early Friday morning I have several unrelated thoughts in my head. 1) I know I'm ready to be done with the Olympics when synchronized swimming and rhythmic gymnastics take over the events calendar, 2) If here in Alaska we are losing five minutes of daylight each day, by my calculations it will be dark by 4PM in December, 3) If it's going to rain every day through December why do I care what time it gets dark?, and 4) What will my life look like in the next weeks?

This week I applied to both UPS (the delivery service, not the private university in Washington) and to Costco. Neither of these employment destinations was ever in my thinking when I was a seminary student. I also looked at openings with Alaska Airlines. The free flights would be nice, but without any current openings there will be no free flights.

I received an email from UPS telling me I will be interviewed. They need a delivery driver here in Juneau. I'm sure they're wowed with my resume. I'm sure the brown uniform will bring out the natural highlights in my hair. But under the category of things I don't know (but God certainly does) I do not yet see how I can work a full time job and plant a church at the same time. But God does.

It's not like I haven't had a marketplace job in the past. I spent most of the 90's selling advertising in airports. I ended up being pretty good at it. But it didn't involve also planting a church (or driving a truck.)

All that aside the "word" I'm getting this morning is, "Don't think; just do!" Wherever and whatever it all ends up being, God is already there. It will be new to me, but not new to Him. This is not career sabotage - it's just transferable skills and resume development. My ego has no bearing in following God's directives. What I think will happen and what will actually happen are probably two different things.

And the other "word" I'm getting? Stop using the word "BUT" in sentences! And go get a haircut!

Friday, August 3, 2012

Work

We've been in Juneau Alaska now for six months (and five days.) We are excited to be here, and excited to see what God has in store for us and through us for this city and region. We've made friends. We've hosted people in our little home. We've had gospel conversations. Even this summer's lack of summer weather has not discouraged us (this first year, at least.)

Deb gets up and goes to work each day. She runs the Career Services office at the University of Alaska Southeast. She is good at what she does. She works hard. One friend has referred to her as my "sugar mama." It's her income that's paying our bills. Meanwhile, I get up each day wondering how to spend my time. I have become a house-husband. I do laundry. I plan dinner. I talk to the dog.

In another one of those "God telling me something" episodes I have sensed I am being told to go out and get a job. I need more to do each day. I need somewhere to go, and people to see. I brought this up with my friend Joe over lunch the other day and he said, "Alaska is a working man's state. You'll gain by having a real job in addition to your pastoral role." I took this as confirmation, if not the voice of God Himself.

So this week I applied with the school district to be a substitute teacher. I applied to be a ticket-taker for the State Ferry System. I spend my days at home now looking at job boards, completing online applications and praying as to what God would have me do. No sales jobs for me this time around. (Nothing worse than a pastor who sells stuff, confusing everyone.) A service job of some kind is a better fit for me, I think.

It may be that Jesus is telling me I need to devote some time to being a missionary before I can settle into being a pastor of missionaries. It may be He's telling me that being bi-vocational is to be my vocation, for a season at least.

And I'm excited about this, excited to have somewhere to go and something to do. I'm excited to be a missionary, and in the mission field.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Two and Done

We're two and done. Our son and daughter are now a Mister to a Missus and a Missus to a Mister respectively. We recently returned home from our son's wedding last weekend. For me it was a ten day road trip which accommodated my opportunity to officiate a wedding for dear friends. Never have I put so many miles on a rental car. Hertz must love me. Alaska Airlines will likely send me a holiday card.

It was fun to "get out" again and practice my aggressive urban driving skills. It was wonderful to reconnect with friends and family and Soteria Church. It was a joy to be "Dad" instead of wedding officiant, and to have a front row seat. My wife looked like a queen. My daughter and I cried as we watched my wife and son cry happy tears while they danced. My children are blissfully happy. My son-in-law and daughter-in-law are evidences of God's grace. We're now blessed to be step-grandparents to two handsome little men.

And now it's back to normal, though normal has not been normal for us this year.

It's been more than confusing to relocate to Alaska and begin the work of planting a new church in Juneau...all the while lovingly distracted by our summer wedding schedule. I've never spent so much money in my life while being functionally unemployed. I've never before been married to someone employed by a university. And now we have no impending events on the calendar.

Well, we are having some neighbors over for dinner this weekend. We are planning a short trip to Sitka in September. We do have friends with boats we're hoping will invite us along for a cruise on local waters, and friends with airplanes we hope will invite us along for island landings. We do intend to enjoy as much of the summer as this Alaskan summer allows. We do have places in mind yet to be kayaked. I do have a few pounds to shed.

And I'm excited for, motivated toward, and now no longer distracted from continuing the work of making friends, opening our home often, gathering people and forming a church of gospel communities on mission.

And I hope normal is never normal again, impending events or not.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Round Two

A strange and wonderful year for we Rydman's it continues to be. Daughter Kaycie married Ben Hajduk last month, we moved far away to Alaska, Deb took a job running Career Services at the University of Alaska Southeast, I'm making friends and planting a church, and now we're prepping for wedding number two. Son Steve will be marrying his true love, Sarah Smits on July 21.

I'm learning that marrying off your daughter is different than marrying off your son. With the daughter the thought is, "Will this guy handle his role well? Will he always remember how precious she is?" With the son, it's more like, "Is he ready? Have I prepared him well enough? Will this guy handle his role well?" With the daughter's wedding it was, "Do I need to apologize to anyone involved in the wedding?" With the son it might be, "Do I need to apologize to my future daughter-in-law?" (I'm fairly certain I will not need to come with a quiver full of apologies. Steve is a great guy and will make a great husband!)

For my daughter's wedding ceremony I knew I had a specific and vital role: walk my little girl down the aisle, make sure everyone enjoyed the reception...and write checks. A lot of checks. For my son's wedding ceremony I sense my role will be not to block the camera's view of my wife. 


A son becoming a married man somehow and inevitably reflects on his father. Being increasingly mindful of my own shortcomings, my own misdirected motivations and my own innate selfishness as a husband I know that my son will experience similar self-awareness through his own fails over time. 


But this is true; marriage is the closest earth-side view we have into the heart of God. Marriage is where grace can be and must be most tangibly evident, most lived out. Marriage is the venue in which God's covenant love for His own children is most immediately exemplified. Marriage is the vehicle by which God insures (forces) my ongoing sanctification. It is primarily through my marriage that God refines me.


And this is also true; I married UP, way up, way out of my league. My wife is a living, breathing repository of gracious responses and incredible patience. And Steve knows the same is waiting for him in Sarah. May he never forget this reality. And may this reality point him and all who witness their marriage vows to our God Who loves us irrespective of what we think our merit to be, in spite of our merit, and solely out of His great grace.


Someone once said, "Marriage is like handcuffs." If that's true, then tighten mine up. My son already agrees.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Politics and the Heresy of Nationalism

July 4th's downtown parade allowed Deb and me to experience our first Juneau "locals only" event, save for the square dancers from Spokane that came by cruise ship to participate. It was fun and instructive to see who lives here, who greets each other, and who applauds every entry in the parade, corny or otherwise. We're certainly not yet long-timers, but we're feeling more and more like locals.

I was taken by the overt expressions of nationalism. As with any Independence Day parade we saw lots of flags, lots of red white and blue, lots of trucks and some farm equipment. Alaska has been a parcel of America for fewer years than I've been alive. For Alaskans statehood may not have been so much about connection as it was about recognition and validation, (not to mention avoiding the scourge of taxation without representation.) But here there is a twist, perhaps shared only be Hawai'i (and Caribbean nations who find themselves partial-Americans not necessarily by choice.) Alaskans consider themselves Alaskans first, and U.S. citizens second. Even when traveling south the term "getting out" is often replaced with "I'm going down to the States."

People here quickly associate Christianity with political beliefs, and political beliefs (like religion) are polarizing. But it is in "nationalism" where the polarities get confused. It is too easy to fall into siding with Cleon Skousen's The Naked Capitalist when he wrote that the American experiment was the culmination of God's long-term plan for humanity. Whatever party in control of the Executive branch proclaims their elected leader to be a messianic figure to deliver hope and change and lead America to the promised land, while the out of office party takes an apocalyptic view of the President as villain on whom to blame the betrayal of the Founding Fathers and their Constitution. The polemics of nationalism, and anyone claiming America's destiny as "the New Israel" have made my job here just that much more challenging. Nationalism as individual and civic pride is fine and great. Nationalism as doctrine is heresy, as history repeatedly proves.

We Bible-believing, Jesus-adoring, Holy Spirit directed citizens are marginalized here in Juneau, sometimes because of our political leanings, and more often because of what people assume to be our political leanings. We are often accused of lumping our nationalism in with our citizenship in the Kingdom of God. And sometimes our critics are absolutely right. Claiming my own status as a "voting independent" doesn't seem to help.

It remains a challenge for any church-planter, me included to boldly proclaim the polarizing truth of the gospel while distancing the gospel message from a political polemic. I'm not un-American. The Olympics are coming up, and I know who to pull for, even in team handball. It's just that I don't think my earthly citizenship is the biggest deal of deals.


Thursday, June 28, 2012

With Hearts Overflowing

We joyfully participated in our daughter's wedding this past weekend. It was, all of it was a joy. We gave our daughter and youngest child in confidence to a young man we adore, welcoming Ben into our family with open arms.

The weekend featured reunions with many dear friends. It was also the first time in a long time my parents and my three siblings were (with most of Kaycie's cousins in tow) in the same place at the same time. We had so much fun. The wedding went off without a hitch, save the couple that got hitched, of course. (Any hitches to be had I learned of only afterward. Nothing burned up. No one lost their salvation. No animals were injured in the filming of this epic.)

But no one told me how hard it would be for me to keep my own emotions in check. My friend Russ had told me, "Giving your daughter away is a big deal." He was and is so right. There were four times when I had to try hard, really hard to keep from sobbing and making a mess of things.

When I was invited into the bridal dressing room to place the garter above Kaycie's left knee I walked in and Kaycie said, "Daddy, don't look at me." She teared up. I tried not to, and spent most of the episode looking up at the ceiling. This was the hardest. When I saw a photo someone took of that very moment a couple of days later I had a serious, overdue cry. Tears of joy tears.

I thought the walk with Kaycie down the aisle toward her husband-in-waiting would be hard. We decided to laugh instead. We showed up smiling. That walk, as it is for any bride's father will be a lifelong memory.

The third event, the one I perhaps "dreaded" the most was the daddy-daughter dance. Don't know why I was so worked up over this, but I was. But as it turned out Kaycie stepped on my toes enough times during that dance that we laughed and talked and held each other close, and it was great. But seeing Ben's mom and dad dance, and then Ben and his sister join them, and then seeing Kaycie join them all was a show-stopper. I openly wept. So did everyone else. A magical moment.

The fourth and final challenge was the father's toast. Nick the Best Man and Haley the Maid of Honor had just completed back to back serious tear-jerker toasts. I was up next, and before I could get a word out Kaycie looked at me and said, "Daddy, please be funny." I parked what I had planned to say to the newlyweds and instead went into some ridiculous commentary about how troll dolls taped to bicycle handlebars somehow related to grandchildren. (Okay, it was the first thing that came into my head, so I went with it.) Not sure if what I had to say was the least bit inspirational, but Kaycie laughed, so it was a win.

Deb and I returned to our Alaska home exhausted, emotionally spent, with hearts overflowing. And I'm glad God gives me tears of joy, and the freedom to let them flow. It's one way we can all emulate our heavenly Father.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Barbershop Musings

I went to the barbershop yesterday. I needed a trim. I arrived a few minutes early, and found myself chatting up Mindy the Barber and her two customers. Mindy is great. She loves to talk up our city, and this time with two Floridians in town with a cruise ship.

The son was in the barber chair; Dad sitting nearby. Our shared conversation started with the weather (as does every conversation around here). We then moved on to the highs (natural beauty) and lows (the price of property) of living in Juneau. And then, somehow the conversation topic moved on to the subject of marriage.

I mentioned I was soon to leave town for my daughter's wedding in California; hence the obligatory haircut. After expressing their congratulations the son in the chair asked me if this was my daughter's "starter marriage." While stifling my initial indignation I responded with a resounding "Nope." I then countered with a short treatise of my daughter's love for her future husband, and my future son-in-law's love for my daughter. (They're both immanently lovable, by the way!)

This morning I find myself musing over that conversation. Today (June 20) is our 31st wedding anniversary. (Deb and I will celebrate later, as always it seems.) Our own marriage is a picture to me of God's steadfast covenant love. (And I am well aware I married "up," out of my league.) My daughter and youngest child will become a Missus come this Saturday, and this fresh new marriage speaks to me of God's redemptive love. My own parents, who have enjoyed a 50-plus year marriage, are an incredible example to me of God's changeless love.

It will be my joy to walk my daughter down the aisle this Saturday. How I will do that while still wrapped tightly around her little finger is beyond me, since that's where I've been since the day she first showed up.

And I will praise my heavenly Father for the love He shows me in so many tangible and intangible ways. It is this same love I want other people in Juneau know first-hand as well.


Thursday, June 14, 2012

North to the Sun?

I like Fairbanks. I didn't used to, but I like it now. I've been to Fairbanks two of the past four weekends,  and liked it both times.

It's ironic I've had to go to Fairbanks to see the sun. Fairbanks is only 198 miles from the Arctic Circle. But when I've left our cozy abode in the Southeast Alaska rain forest for Fairbanks their weather has allowed me, even encouraged me to ditch the socks and break out the flaps. Ironic indeed.

Fairbanks takes pride in being the "northernmost" of a lot of things. I visited the northernmost brewery in the world. The sun does not set in the summer, at all, ever. I'm surprised anyone gets any sleep. I'm surprised I got any sleep.

It takes some serious effort for its citizens to live in Fairbanks. Their utility bills alone would scare off the rest of civilized society. Churches are forced to deal with the seasons, of which Fairbanks appears to have two; people are out playing in summer, and hunkered down in winter. Neither season encourages church community.

But some of them get it, and get it well. I was hosted by Radiant Church this past weekend. These people are kind, friendly and generous. I was sent home packing moose meat, "canned" salmon, and a hunting rifle. These people are also committed to the cause of Christ. They love each other as fellow sons and daughters of the King. They passionately love their city. They are led by humble and capable elders, Caleb, Mike and Loren, and a host of other servant-leaders. They are on mission. They get it.

They also sent me home encouraged in my own church-planting endeavor. They sent me back home as a partner, a co-laborer, a fellow partaker of gospel reality.

God is present in His people, in His church, even in the far north. I can hardly wait to go back. My flaps need the exercise.


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

And Then There Are Days...

Church-planting (a term used by its practitioners to describe starting a new church from scratch) is usually limited to those with an entrepreneurial bent. Dropping with a proverbial parachute into a new community is either adventurous and brave, or foolhardy. Church planters are applauded by churches, if they're not in the same locale. Parachuting church planters are applauded by only other church planters.

Each church planter, me included begins his work fueled by a deep sense of God's calling and commission. Each church planter envisions a future community of Christ-followers who will be joyfully and faithfully engaged in mission. But the calling of God and the commission to plant and the vision of the future all come up against the reality of real life, real times, real people, real personal shortcomings and real challenges. There are those days, and there will be those days when the vision seems to hit a cloud bank and the entrepreneurial work seems like a slog.

As yesterday ended I realized I had run out of scheduled people to meet with. Some others apparently don't view meeting with me as a necessary priority. I had spent the day, unsuccessfully I might add, trying to find the main point in the sermon text I am to deliver this coming Sunday 600 miles away in Fairbanks. My attempt at a run in the afternoon lasted all of three laps around the high school track before my right Achilles tendon told me it was not of a mind to cooperate. Working from home always includes my executive assistant, our dog, who was acting particularly weird. In a weak moment of self-pity I asked God if He had moved us here to southeast Alaska only to leave me high and dry, a church-planting failure waiting to happen, a statistic waiting to be recorded.

I am not the first to ask this question I learned this early morning. "Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?" (Psalm 77:7-9)


The answer then, and now to me is "no." The psalm writer goes on to say that pondering God's covenant love and past works informs the present. And more often than not we are blind to the present acts of God in our midst, and in our own hearts. But our momentary blindness does not negate the activity of God.

"Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen." (Psalm 77:19)


Church planting is entrepreneurial; it requires stepping out in faith into the unknown, hoping God will intervene and do a great work. Maybe God's most dramatic and necessary present work in this endeavor is happening in my own heart, even if I don't yet see it.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Risky Church Business

I've had opportunities to describe the church we want to start up here in Juneau. Most everyone, especially churched people respond with blank expressions. I don't necessarily blame them.

Alaskans take great pride in their freedoms. Alaskans seem to be Alaskan first, and US citizens second. Alaskans revel in their independence, their ability to do things themselves, their relative autonomy. Starting a church on the foundation of gospel community is foreign to many. Church attendance comes with little personal risk. But covenant gospel community where lives are shared is very risky.

The writer Jean Vanier said, "Community is where our limitations and our egoism are revealed to us." On a similar theme Mark Sayers has written,  "Humans need covenant. Without it we drown in our freedoms." Covenant gospel community is the antithesis of 'commodification' where we each treat people as commodities, using them for our own felt needs instead of valuing committed relationships and the associated responsibility toward others as the classroom in which God molds our character. Covenant gospel community is like marriage; both are arenas where we are shaped and disciplined, where we learn to lay down our own agendas. All of this is risky.

I dream of and am working toward a church that emphasizes community over individualism; mission over complacency; covenant over consumerism; multiplication over stasis; Jesus over self. The Church must be both a present reality and a preview of coming attractions. The intentional witness and observable worship of the church must inhabit the places between heaven and earth, a taste of  what it will be like when heaven and earth are reunited by God, with creation rallied around the God of the gospel.

All of this is risky as I call myself and others to risk losing much to gain so much more.

Friday, May 25, 2012

High Season

It's the high season. The locals are happy. The school kids are almost done with school. People are wearing shorts, seeing their own bare knees for the first time in months. Kayak and canoe racks have replaced ski racks on car tops. Most of our elected State officials have left town to drink their own morning coffee and sleep, finally, in their own beds at home.

Our already low unemployment numbers have plummeted. Our little town is full of tourists. Local businesses are punching out sales receipts as buyers walk away with more tee shirts, more ball caps, more guide books and more photos with the fake life size Sarah Palin than anyone can possibly use. I'm becoming a fan of the University of Nebraska sweatshirt combined with the hat from Ketchikan as seen on numerous globe-trotting retirees. I also like hearing the word "ulu" used in sentences. ("Look Ma! While you were busy buying glacial silt soap I went to the Ulu Shop and bought the kids an ulu!")

The cruise ships hang around town for about ten hours or so, and their bipedal cargo step out ready to cram as much Southeast Alaska excitement in those few hours as possible. Shiny new tour buses and decrepit old tour buses shuttle people from their nautical chariots to see whales, glaciers and bears, sample the local beer and gorge on cedar planked salmon like emaciated harbor seals.

The buses are everywhere. It might be impossible to make a left turn from an intersection. I am learning new alternative routes to get anywhere and everywhere. But, I am liking all this. Our town is happy.

Meanwhile I have a church to work on, since we don't yet have a church to work in. The seasonal rhythms of our city, including the high season will impact this work. As to how remains to be seen.

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

The Pharisee Within Me

I was reminded yet again yesterday of some not so savory things respective to me.

I attended a workshop event related to ending domestic violence. I sensed the other participants made assumptions about my theology solely on the basis of my attendance. I heard differing views on who God is and what it will take for society to be transformed. At times I felt I somehow needed to defend God against relativism, though God doesn't need me or anyone to defend Him. He is His own defense. But I left feeling defensive for God.

Earlier in the week I saw our young neighbor stuff the dumpster with more refuse than the dumpster's capacity could bear. Ironically, a bear had proven this true be strewing said trash all over the parking area on Monday night . I was indignant as I swept up the mess Tuesday afternoon. Soon after I was convicted; I had not made enough effort to know our neighbor, a struggling single Mom. I was too consumed with my own comfort to recognize her need for unrequited friendship and support.

I am learning that intentional gospel missionality requires I dispose of my biases and the judgmental spirit I attempt to disavow but possess none the less. For if I am honest, the character/s I most identify with in the Bible are not the heroes of the faith, but the Pharisees who loved their religion more than people.

I spent Tuesday evening repenting of my Pharisaic attitude, and Wednesday morning preaching the gospel to myself. Jesus has not called me to plant a church filled with Pharisees led by a Pharisee. He has called me to plant a church filled with forgiven sinners led by a forgiven sinner following a forgiving Lord.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Big City Small Town

I spent Friday and Saturday with the Crimson Bears in Haines, Alaska. We went to the home of the Glacier Bears. (Picture a real life animal with silver fur and blue eyes. Based on the taxidermist's work mounted in a glass case I guess they really do exist.)

Haines is small town America, with Alaskan weather. Picture in your mind Half Moon Bay, or La Conner, or Carpinteria in the old days. Haines boasts the highest concentration of bald eagles in North America. Everybody (people, not necessarily eagles) knows everybody. It was Prom weekend, and it seemed the entire town was mobilized to provide a quality experience for the seniors and their dates. Haines is apparently well known throughout the region for their creative prom themes.

And I heard it said more than once, "Oh, you're from Juneau; the big city." Now according to me and my continental ways Juneau is a lot of things, but big she is not. But to folks living in Sitka, Ketchikan, Wrangell, Petersburg, Skagway or Haines, Juneau is the big city, with big city lights and big city energy. Juneau is where one goes for shopping, and for intensive medical care. Juneau is where one goes for a university education, and for employment. The other towns have cars; we have "traffic."

Juneau is not big, but Juneau is vitally strategic. Most if not all of the culture of Southeast Alaska passes through the filter that is Juneau. The other Southeast towns are dependent on Juneau. Maybe by choice; maybe not.

In starting up a new church in Juneau we cannot be limited in vision or scope to Juneau alone. We need to see what happens in Juneau as being vital and strategic to what could happen in other places in Southeast. We need to raise up leaders who will go and grow the church in other Southeast places, connected by vision and heart if not necessarily by timely travel.

If you want to see what a new church start up can look like, both the highs and lows, come our way. But if you want to see an impressive high school prom, go to Haines.


Thursday, May 3, 2012

Juneau by Land, and Sea, and Air

Juneau is a beautiful city. In relation to some other Alaskan cities Juneau is considered a clean city...probably because the rain washes the grime away. Often.

Deb and I live five miles from anywhere we want to go in town. Juneau is like living on an island. You can't drive away from here. The roads just stop. Bad news for car thieves I suppose.

Juneau is also a city that knows transition. While once the Territorial Capital, Juneau became the Alaskan State Capital. This past week the State senators and representatives dropped the gavel for the final time on this year's legislative session, and quickly left town. By air, I presume. As mentioned, they can't drive away from here. And the commercial fishing fleet is now fully occupied on the local and distant waters. The people around town wearing the "Deadliest Catch" tee shirts are not the professionals.

This week, today in fact, Juneau transitions into tourist season. Over the course of the next five months over one million people will disembark from giant cruise ships to come ashore and buy things. Every shop in town is now open and eagerly ready for business. The Alaskan Brewery is responding with an innumerable count of new logo wear options.

It is a challenge for me to think through how to establish a new church in Juneau when our city is so transient. The rhythms of Juneau are pronounced and dramatic, and so very seasonal. We cannot have any tangible gospel impact in our city and culture unless we build that church on the basis of "missional communities," people willing to covenant together on mission to our transitory city. Missional communities, among other things will provide a family, a place to belong, a church, a home away from home even for those who do not reside in Juneau year round.

We'll have to get very used to, and even embrace the idea of serving and sharing our one hope in Jesus with people always in transition, as the seasons change.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Death by Assumption

I realized this week I mistakenly live by a set of concrete hard assumptions.

Just yesterday I had three different people tell me I had better enjoy summer, as summer is now. I've always assumed summer was June through August for school kids, or after July 5 through September (or some years not at any time) for the Pacific Northwest. But here in Southeast Alaska, summer happens in the spring, April and May. Not in the summer. (As a side note Australia's summer actually happens in the winter, but that's an entirely different matter.)

I've always assumed high school athletes anywhere initially resist the authority coaches hold over them. That assumption, at least here is wrong. These kids at JDHS do whatever we ask of them, after responding with "Yes, Coach!". Totally fakes me out.

I make assumptions about how my body will feel the day after a strenuous workout. Those assumptions are proving to be outdated...by about three decades or so.

I've had the misguided assumption people who love Jesus but are not currently connected with a church will be interested if not captivated by my starting a church (and my assumption of my own captivating personality) here in Juneau. This assumption has been challenged, (on both counts.) Not everyone is interested.

And my assumptions are challenged when someone I assume not interested shows interest in our church planting efforts. We're currently working to bring those interested people together.

I could die by my own assumptions. Or I could reassess my assumptions and leave a great deal more room for God to fake me out.


Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Time for Story

I took our dog for a walk yesterday morning. (Short dog with short legs makes for short walks, low to the snow she is.) I've noticed over the weeks a neighbor working with wood in front of his place during the daylight hours (which seem to gain an hour each week these days.) I finally went and made introductions and to see his ongoing project.

Jerry is a Tlingit (pronounced "Klin-git") native Alaskan, Raven clan. The Tlingit's and Haida's are the dominate tribal groups in Southeast Alaska, and make up between 15% and 22% of our population. Jerry is a single parent of a daughter away at college, and quite proud of her. Jerry works nights as a janitor, and by day is a wood carver; better yet - Jerry is an artist.

Jerry is making a canoe paddle. He told me he is still behind his schedule of making a paddle for each of his departed relatives. By his way of thinking relatives should be honored with a paddle, beautifully decorated. I thought to myself I honor my living relatives by picking up the phone...once every so often. Jerry brought out several of his finished paddles for me to admire.

Jerry told me stories. Jerry communicates with story. His native culture prizes story. We talked about our respective cultures, the strengths and weaknesses of each, and how those cultures sometimes collide. I realized I am a product of a fast-moving culture: West Coast car culture, keeping and meeting self-imposed deadlines, with an eye always on the clock. Jerry's culture is not in a rush; they take time to tell and hear story. Listening to story conveys respect. Jerry does not rush to complete his paddle projects. He told me the paddle is not complete until "the story has come out of it."

Jesus told stories. If I am here to communicate the changeless story of the gospel of Jesus to my new culture and context here in Juneau, I may have to slow down long enough to hear story as well.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Frontier Reality

It's not like everyone is necessarily thrilled when I tell them I'm here to plant (start) a church. And I can understand if a church person views me as a potential threat to their own church. Deb and I are here to start a church, not join a church. So when it came to Easter Sunday we didn't have any particular place to go.

When I was out walking the dog on what was the continuation of a string of stellar weather mornings I was experiencing an emotion, but couldn't define or describe it; until later in the day. I didn't feel sad per se; just missing something.

I didn't miss the planning and logistics necessary to pull off an Easter Sunday service. I didn't miss singing "Crown Him with Many Crowns" or "Up From the Grave He Arose" (though I did have those tunes in my head throughout the day.) I didn't miss wondering if new visitors would show up, if we would have enough food, our coffee decent, or if our church would double in size. I didn't even miss my feeble attempt/s to craft a Easter Sunday sermon that included the important stuff and made the important stuff clear.

What I missed...and it took me a while to get this...was gathering with the people of God. I missed the sense of covenant, and community, and shared lives. I missed the people at Soteria Church and other churches we have called family in years past. I realized again that our faith, our relationship with Jesus is intended by design to be experienced in concert with other people, in community, like family.

A reality of the frontier is that there is not necessarily a pile of people waiting for the frontiersman. If the early days of starting a church don't feel like isolation, those days do include a certain sense of free drift autonomy, like doing life apart from relational bearings. And the way God's designed me, all of us for that matter, is not for autonomy or isolation. We're designed to express our relationship with Jesus in the context of shared relationship with each other.

And in that I'm already looking forward to Easter next year.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Hunters - You are not Alone!

Juneau has 100 miles of roads and 250 miles of trails. The main thoroughfare runs bottom to top, east to west for 40 miles or so, and depending on where you may be is known as Egan Drive or Glacier Highway. Locals simply know it as "The Road." If you live north of Auke Bay you live "out the Road."
Along the Road at Mile 3, half a mile from our home is the Mendenhall Wetlands State Game Refuge. With Juneau's 15 foot plus tidal changes the Wetlands is (are?) well-named. Sometimes it's under water; sometime quite dry, as it was when Deb and I decided to check it out this past weekend. I made a point to pick up one of the informational brochures.

The brochure informs its reader that the "Mendenhall Wetlands are a mecca for waterfowl hunters, wildlife viewers and outdoor enthusiasts alike." In other words, people can be enthusiastically outside, watch birds, and then see those same birds fall from the sky like rocks.

This handy publication also reminds hunters that they are not alone. The refuge is "surrounded by residences, businesses and the Juneau Airport." Shooters are encouraged not to shoot toward any of these already inhabited structures. Sounds like a good safety tip.

This is where I know I live in a strange new land. All hunters are told they must obtain a waterfowl hunting permit. Check. "Hunters younger than 15 years of age must first complete a certified hunter safety course...unless they are accompanied by an adult." So if the kid completes the safety course he/she and his/her buddies can don the camo and the face paint, grab the shotgun and shells and (I assume) trusty bird dog, and get to stalking and killing their own game - while being mindful of nearby outdoor enthusiasts, bird watchers, residences, businesses and an international airport with associated flight path. My parents wouldn't have trusted me with a slingshot at age 18, and here we potentially have 13 year old's (or younger) legally empowered to hunt for subsistence or sport.

This is awesome!

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Business Trip

I took my first "business trip" in a long time, this time to Anchorage. I went to meet with pastor guys, to share my calling and vision for a new church in Juneau. I went to align my heart and ideas with those of other men who love Jesus and His Church; who love the idea of more people coming to faith because of new churches being planted in Alaska and the circumpolar north.

After botching my departure flight schedule (because I'm either out of practice or just plain stupid) I finally arrived in Anchorage four and a half hours later than planned. I then found myself in conversations non-stop, conversations that both inspired and encouraged me.

I conversed with people representing three different churches, churches that are motivated by the Great Commission and are enthusiastic about aligning ideas and resources to partner in seeing new churches get started. It is still amazing to me that when people no longer care who gets the credit, other than God of course, some incredible, other-worldly things can happen. I was humbled to see how we concentrated on what we held in common rather than what we each might have held as distinctives.

And I realized I am not on the resourcing end, but am again in the needing resources end. I am not yet in a position to be a giver, but instead I am in receiving mode. For a new church, and ultimately many churches to be initiated in Juneau and southeast Alaska I need other people's participation, other people's partnership. I am more aware than ever that I need people praying for me, for us, for this region. This new work is teaching me to pray like I never have prayed before, in new fervency and from a position of new humility. It's not unlike when each of my children left our home to begin their adult lives - I couldn't see them regularly, so I learned to write letters each week. And I learned to pray out of a new dependency on God. Empty nest parents learn this because it's what we're given to continue our parenting.

I did make it back home. I stuck to the flight plan. I arrived home glad to see my bride, inspired and encouraged, quite fatigued and in need of a new diet. I arrived home knowing I am not the only person who cares, that there are countless others God has positioned in this area to be the Church.

And again this morning I attended the Bible Study at the State Capitol. God has placed His people in all sorts of places. And I know God has placed Deb and me here in Juneau, so perhaps many more people can  be His people too.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Humility Can Feel Okay

I was humbled yesterday. And I was blessed. I felt and feel okay, better than okay.

I was humbled to be invited to join in with the Alaska State Government officials and workers who gather on early Thursday mornings for Bible Study and to encourage each other. I dressed better than usual. I was the only civilian in the room. At that early hour titles and positions are done away with. Everything on a first name basis. They're there solely because they love Jesus. Upon introduction to one gentleman he asked me, "Are you Debbie's husband?" I was humbled to know my wife gives me credibility. (I should have figured that out long ago.)

I was humbled to enjoy a dinner conversation with Deb and long time friend Shaun McFarlane. How encouraged I was to hear how God is using Shaun to make disciples, and giving Shaun a wider sphere of influence in his church in Anchorage. Shaun discipled my own son back in the day, to my gratitude. He told us old stories, many of which involved our offspring. Some of the stories I wish I had not heard. (Boys will be boys.)

I felt humbled in realizing the kids and coaches at JDHS are freely welcoming me into their world. They are all making my late afternoons (sometimes early evenings) really fun, even as I am still trying to remember how to coach. I am humbled to know that being "the assistant to the assistant" is a right fit for me.

I am humbled to be here in Juneau. I almost feel guilty I like it here so much (like I should be suffering a great deal more than I am, since I'm not suffering at all.) And I am humbled in acknowledging daily that every step I take forward, any movement toward the establishment of a church here is God-ordained, and not Mike-directed. Being humbled is better than okay.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

No Presumptions

I was required to fill out a form yesterday, with one question related to "Where am I in our church planting process?" My response was "Don't yet know." "Infancy?" "No where, yet?"

Hanging around Juneau, without a set daily agenda (aside from high school track practice in the late afternoons), is teaching me about prayer. My intellectual assent is colliding with my present experience. I have already devoted entirely too much time waiting for the phone to ring. And I am becoming increasingly aware of my presumptions. I have presumed upon God to respond to my worthwhile intentions with positive and timely cooperation. I acknowledge my impatience.

Yesterday I quickly locked the front door and left the house to run some errands. When I got to my car I realized I had grabbed the dog leash instead of the car and house keys. I had locked myself out of the house, and the car. (I could hear our dog inside the house barking at me in a tone of "I'm embarrassed to even know you.") God gave me two hours outside in the Alaska cold, to chill. Deb later rescued me.

During my two hours of outside time I picked up some trash in the area. I swept our front steps. I played with my phone and sent a silly tweet. I watched an eagle tend to its nest in a nearby tree. And I heard from God.

I heard Him say, "You're spending too much time waiting for the phone to ring. You're devoting too much energy to trying to get other people to respond to your inquiries and overtures. You're presuming upon Me to make things happen in a fashion you want to dictate. Don't you know I have lots of different answers to your prayers at my disposal?"

And I read just this morning, "Yes;" "No;" "Maybe;" "Not yet," and "Not telling you" are all good answers to my prayers, presumptive or otherwise. (Thanks, Scotty Smith.)

And yesterday the phone did ring, and the emails did come. And today I'm hearing, "I will build My church; not you. You don't know what you're doing, but I do. By My grace you're just along for the ride. Be content to be a kite in My hurricane."

Friday, March 9, 2012

Come before Winter, or Never Say Never Again

Monday I finished the last of my moving-in projects. Tuesday I awoke to realize I didn't have a plan. I know I'm here as a "missionary," to plant a church. But as to how to go about doing that, what the first steps should be I didn't know. I paced around for two days. I needed somewhere to go. On Thursday God and I had a bit of a conversation about how to get me around some people.

He asked me the question, "What do you think you're good at?" (Oddly enough my default answer wasn't planting churches.) And it (He) hit me; "See who needs a volunteer track coach!" At ten in the morning I sent an email, and by noon I had a return email and a new gig. I am now the assistant sprints and relay coach for Juneau-Douglas High School. They told me they never turn down volunteers.

JDHS is the "Mariner to the Kamiak," or the "San Dieguito to the Torrey Pines." JDHS is the old school, with lots of history and tradition and an active alumni. The student body is diverse, and the Alaska Native culture is honored throughout the entire building. The school has been an athletic power in Southeast Alaska for years.

The kids and their coaches deal with Alaska-sized challenges for workout space, with each day requiring them to meet up at different venues around town. One away track meet to Ketchikan will require a Friday plane flight down, track meet on Saturday, and an 18 hour ferry ride home, arriving Monday. In Ketchikan the athletes will be housed by host school counterparts. And when we host a track meet our kids return the favor. This is what these kids know, and it's what they do.

The coaches I will be working with are half my age. I'm begrudgingly getting used to this. As always, I intend to play young. I have to remember how to coach. After coaching Lions, Bruins, Mustangs and Knights I thought I was done. But I should have learned never to say never again. I've pulled a Bret Favre; I've unretired.

The Apostle Paul once wrote to Timothy, asking him to come before winter. It was before winter or wait through the long winter to spring and the next window of opportunity. Somehow, towards the end of our own winter, God has given me an opportunity to be salt and light, to get around some people. This latest opportunity comes dressed in crimson and black. It's what the Crimson Bears wear.