Rosa Parks and the Church...

Rosa Parks passed away earlier today. I still struggle with the thought that at one time, not long ago, the treatment of people with different skin color was not only tolerated, it was a legislated norm.

Recently two of my friends, Jake and Tracee, have commented on the subject of tolerance and the church. Their words fanned a flame that has been building within me for some time now.

I miss my church out in Salt Lake. Was it perfect? By no means! Every Sunday it was packed full of people who fell far short in their spiritual walks (present company included). But that was the beauty of it! The second service was made up of the rich and poor, young and old, and to add to the mix roughly a third were from other countries—Sudan, Iraq, Serbia, Guatemala, Germany, etc! etc! A geographer's dream congregation!! A small community church and I cherished my time there.

I now find myself at a church that is little more than an extended college ministry. The young are absent as are the elders. This is somewhat to be expected in a college town such as Manhattan, but the mix still gets to me. The rich and upper-middle classes have found their way inside, but the poor need not come less they bear the brunt of gawking strangers—many of whom remain strangers to me. Do I love my church here? Yes, but…

We, as the Body, are not as welcoming as we could be and this is where my struggle with my church surfaces. I have now been attending for a year and a half and still don’t recognize a third of the people (being a rather outgoing person this is saying something). If anything, I have felt shunned more often than I have felt welcomed. And what of the new person on a Sunday who dares venture through the sanctuary doors?

I realize this is likely an age old gripe, but it is one that is made that more difficult to stomach after experiencing a church as I believe God intends it to be. For now, I will continue to wear my blue jeans on Sunday in hopes that someday I may not be the only one.

On a seperate note...I will be returning to the Gulf Coast this weekend to help out down there. I will be in touch with many of you when I return.

And I thought last week was tough...

There are a number of victories scattered throughout my life that I will always cherish. Moments where "my team", whatever form that may take, storms back to conquer the evil powers (think Mike Martz or Dallas mid-90s) that seek to destroy all that is good. The Avs game 7 in 2001, the Red Sox remarkable comeback vs the Yankees last year, or even the 1980 USA Olympic Hockey Team are all haled as highlights in the history of sports.

Even so, there are times where the Dark Side seems to eclipse any glimmer of light that would be ours to celebrate. Case in point: sports over the past 48 hours.

As bad as it has been, there have been glimpses of an all-powerful, loving God over the past week: Hejduk's 2-goal return Friday night, K-State's win over rival KU last week, and the Broncos impressive 5-1 start. But over the weekend this has seemingly come to an abrupt end (Pittsburgh being a notable exception):

1) K-State loses to TX A&M.

2) The Avs lose to Bertuzzi and the Canucks. Anyone who follows hockey and possesses anything resembling a soul knows this is wrong.

3) Favre and the Pack losing in the last 20 some odd seconds to the loveboat monsters.

And the true dagger for me...the Broncos losing in the last 5 seconds.

My roommate Mike understands my pain. A couple of years ago the Avs lost an overtime game 7 in the playoffs. I remember saying, "Mike, don't take it personally if I don't speak to you the rest of the night." I got up, went to bed, and did not speak to him again the rest of the evening.

This time let's just say that my students should thank the Good Lord that I will not be able to grade their exams until Wednesday.

A point is a point...

Tough week. I’m REALLY trying to focus on the positive right now. Sometimes you just have to remember life will go on.

This week I said good-bye to someone I didn’t want to. Very tough. I believe it was the right decision, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

And yet, as tough as that’s been, it’s nothing compared to the Avs losing two straight! We (I consider myself part of the organization) have now lost three games this season—all in the third! ugh. At least tonight we picked up a point.

I need to focus on Svatos, who is showing a lot of potential, and remember that Hejduk’s return is just around the corner.

GO AVS!!!

Beauty in the midst of chaos and destruction…

The destruction of the Gulf Coast is complete. All that remains standing are forests that have been reduced to piles of broken matchsticks and skeletons of buildings that once upon a time housed the people of the coast. We drove through stretches, sometimes several blocks worth, where the debris piles shadowed over the flattened homes and businesses that once stood tall in view of the Gulf of Mexico.

Amongst all the destruction, there were signs of life returning. I remember spotting a squirrel running for cover as our paths crossed and noting that this was one of the first animals I had seen on the trip (the birds, for the most part, remained silent). It brought back memories of the Pole when one afternoon a common housefly that had hidden itself in a crate sent from NZ awoke to entertain those of us breaking in the galley by flying around the dining area. It was the first glimpse of non-human life that any of us had seen in months…and we were in awe.

I think that many of us, both relief workers and local residents, were in awe of all that is to be seen in Katrina's aftermath. To see such total destruction leaves a person questioning the moment. But again, life is beginning to return...

Another sign of life returning—art. At some unknown hour, someone, who remains anonymous, took time out from the work to set up a wicket table in a field of rubble complete with several bottles of wine and enough wine glasses for the empty seats surrounding it. The scene was inviting and beautiful; a site to contemplate the contrast of the idealized life we envision and the chaos of reality.

The beauty of life truly is in the eye of the beholder.

Ground Zero...

Hurricane Katrina may have hit the Gulf Coast a little over a month ago, but the destruction and devastation to the land is still indescribable.

This past Thursday a group of 20 K-State Crusaders traveled 17 hours to Ground Zero, MS. After a quick breakfast and briefing, we set out to work. The first day on site was physically exhausting (especially when sleep deprivation is factored in). The next two days were equally draining, each in their own way, but all hours were well spent laboring with the locals in the heat and sun.

I cannot even begin to describe how our days were filled salvaging and sorting what we could. I will, however, share some of the stories over the next several days as I give myself some time to process them myself (after all, we did drive 22 hours through the night to get back to Kansas today).

I will share one short story of a house we worked on before I head off to bed. Our second day down there I was part of a chainsaw crew clearing out a residential property. The property had a 150 year old house and a large 700 year old oak tree in the back. We spent the day clearing as much as we could from a jungle of debris that I can only imagine mirrored a war zone from a third-world nation.

What struck me about the experience was the couple who called this land home—Jim and Gayle. As we were about to leave, they joined us outside and could not seem to say “thank you” enough for our time and effort (of which they were very welcome). Gayle then shared, with tear-filled eyes, how the night before she had lost hope that life would ever return to normal. With a strained voice, she said thanks for restoring a sense of hope.

Much remains to be done. Prayers for the families that have been impacted by this natural disaster are most appreciated, and a good place to start.