Thoughts From the Porch: I’m told the best way to blog is to post something regularly and preferably, on a scheduled basis. Unfortunately, I’ve failed to live up to that standard this month. I was looking back over my July posts and realized this is only my third one so far.
Opal’s Farm is booming. Fall
planting is underway and we’ve been blessed by all the volunteers helping us
harvest and get our irrigation going. Our Saturday sales at the Cowtown
Farmer’s Market seem to increase each week we’re there. We’re in the process of
looking at a new partnership with a couple of local restaurants and non-profits
that will serve a broader community. Things are moving in the right direction.
Unfortunately, the flurry of
activity at Opal’s Farm has limited my writing time. I still have my moments on
the porch; my quiet time with God and my beautiful wife. Porch time sets the
tone for the rest of the day. It’s as necessary to well-being as food and water
are to physical life. Quiet time in the morning refreshes my body, my mind, and
most of all, my spirit. I’m better able to greet the day’s business with
gratitude and grace.
Most days there’s no time for
writing on in the morning unless it’s business. I come back from the farm with
every intention to sit down and write, but evenings have their own struggles –
fix dinner, do dishes, respond to messages and emails. On top of that there’s
the long day in the Texas heat. Some evenings I forget dinner, drop the
work clothes, and lay down in front of the air conditioner until the next
morning. If you work outdoors in Texas, then you know what I mean.
To be perfectly honest, I don’t
have much to say this morning. One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, says
that her prayers fall into two simple categories – “Help me, help me, help me”
or “Thank you, thank you, thank you”. I get it. Lately my prayers have been of
the “thank you, thank you, thank you” variety. I have little to say other than
thank you. If I were to make a list of all I’m grateful for it would fill a
legal pad and then some. I shan’t bore you, gentle reader, with my list…
Most days, as of late, are
filled with quiet gratitude for the grace I’ve been given. I can’t believe I
get to live the life I live today. I get to do the very things which were the
desire of my heart all along. I work with amazing people working toward a
godly, incredible mission. I spend my days “playing in the dirt”: a constant
reminder of stewardship and Jesus’ parables. When I come home at night, I enjoy
time with my wife and drift off into a solid sleep, ready to “rinse and repeat”
another day.
I could go on and on, but I won’t. I simply needed to touch base with you all before heading to the farm for another day. Have a super Friday and a wonderful weekend! See you soon…
It’s a brilliant, sunny late Spring day here in North Texas. Soon I’ll head off to Opal’s Farm. It’s been incredibly busy. Our first harvest of French Breakfast Radishes came in. We have about a hundred pounds bundled for sale and another hundreds pounds still to harvest. The beans and peas are in full bloom and squash is getting almost big enough to pick.
I haven’t had a great deal of time to write this last week with all the goings on. This week marked the 75th anniversary of the Normandy invasion that turned the tide in the Allies favor during World War Two. Those who know me might find it peculiar I’m memorializing warfare. My faith calls me to be a non-violent peacemaker. Still, I know my calling is not shared by everyone and I honor the veterans who fought for their beliefs and each other.
Tom Brokaw coined the term “the greatest generation” when speaking of my parents peers. As a history student I was always intrigued by the men who fought so gallantly during “The War” as it came to be known. I grew up on the great epic movies about WWII- “Patton”, “The Battle of the Bulge”, Guns of Navarrone”, John Wayne and “The Fighting Seabees” and so forth. I saw “The Great Escape” at the long since demolished Gateway Theater twice a day on three successive Saturday matinees (for 50 cents admission I might add). Steve McQueen was my hero…
Things changed and I grew past the illusions I was taught. After all, “history is written by the victors” and subsequent wars proved to be void of morality. It’s no longer about defense but about gain. War is usually started by men who have never served. They were wealthy or powerful enough to worm their way out of military service. They’re quite content to let your young men fight for their wants while they talk about how patriotic they are; but enough said or I’ll get started…
Still, those WWII vets always held a special place of honor above all others. Perhaps its because of my father and my uncle’s (one of whom died at Anzio, Italy) service. It’s a way I hang onto them as well. They never spoke of their service. They did what they were called to do and now they’re gone, like so many of their generation. I miss them.
There are only 1.7 million WWII vets alive today. Their time is growing short. The “greatest generation” will pass away and become memory. That’s why it’s so important (for me anyway) to cherish the time I’m given with some of the men who served. They’re more likely to share about it today if you ask. I encourage you to ask. Not only will you be riveted to their stories, you’ll pay them honor and respect as well.
This is my small tribute to those men that leapt of the boats at Normandy seventy-five years ago. Thank you for being part of my life and sharing your stories.
“I cherish the memories of a question my grandson asked me the other day when he said, ‘Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?’ Grandpa said, ‘No, but I served in a company of heroes.'” —Major Richard Winters
Thoughts From the Porch: We had a series of precipitation events this weekend; at least that’s what the weather folks called them. I thought it was just rain. Regardless of what you call it, the result is it’s too muddy to do a lot at Opal’s Farm. Brendan and I will harvest radishes tomorrow, but weeding will have to wait. Oh well. It means a little more time on the porch.
I re-read “Jesus Wants
to Save Christians: A Manifesto for the Church in Exile” by Rob Bell and Don
Golden. I re-read many of my good books. After two brain surgeries and the
trudge through middle age I get to enjoy them almost as much as I did the first
time. I gain new insight and reaffirm old ones from re-reading some of my
favorite authors.
I appreciate Don Golden for his work as Executive Director
of Red Letter Christians (https://www.redletterchristians.org/).
I had the opportunity to attend the Red Letter Revival last Fall in Dallas.
Being around other disciples who strive to live out the radical, and often
subversive, teachings of Jesus was the highlight of my year.
Rob Bell ( https://robbell.com/)
has always ranked high on my list of favorite authors; especially since his
book, “Love Wins” put him on the outs with the evangelical community. He
was labelled an apostate and a universalist (God forbid!) and exiled in the
truest sense of the word. Questioning long-held doctrine and institutional
religion is risky. Jesus can attest to that. I guess that’s where the sub-title
came from…
A brief tangent…
I purchased “Love
Wins” at my old church’s bookstore (a Starbucks-looking “seeker-friendly
kind of place). I had seen it in the store the previous Sunday but could no
longer find it anywhere on the shelves. It turns out that “Love Wins” had generated too many questions for the church. The
Senior Pastor had asked that it be kept underneath the front counter. It was
available only by request. I can assure that when the last copy was sold no
more were reordered.
I asked for a copy and my purchase was quickly placed in a
plain brown paper bag. It was like buying Christian pornography. Forbidden
wisdom there, Don and Rob…
“Trendy” Christians
There’s a current trend among many churches to be
“seeker-friendly”. Contemporary services with great bands constitute the
worship experience now. Sometimes it seems like they should be taking tickets
at the door. The experience is more one of entertainment than worship; for me
anyway…
I retain a church home in name only. I’m not okay with
sitting in the same place every week only to have the same people ask me if
this is my first time at the church. This tends to happen a lot in
mega-churches. It’s not the worshipper’s fault. Large groups tend to be
impersonal.
My old church has a plethora of Pastors and staff members:
so much so that a large portion of the budget goes to administrative costs.
They do some wonderful and amazing things for the local community and in
missions, but I can’t help but wonder what the early Jesus followers would
think. Just saying…
I used to work on quite a few service projects the church
took on, many of them having to do with community gardens and almost always
working with young people. I was invited to go with the Youth Group on a
service project to New Mexico. When they ran a background check (yes, a
background check!) they learned I had a felony conviction from my old life
involving bouncing paper. Suddenly, I was unfit to work with the young people
I’d been working with for over five years. They said it was a question of
liability, but I think they were afraid I’d teach the teenagers how to pass bad
checks…
Honestly, I was pissed. I felt betrayed. Church was supposed
to be a place of forgiveness and healing, not a business concerned with
liability and self-protection. I tried to move past my feelings. I continued to
attend for a while, and probably well past the expiration date…
My friend and mentor, Rusty, taught a class I enjoyed and corporate spiritual growth took place within our small, class-sized community. Unfortunately, the class was cancelled, and he was made the ‘Online’ Minister. Churches have gotten tech-savvy in the pursuit of new converts (and additional dollars? – I know, I’m a bit cynical). Quite frankly, the online community simply isn’t the same for me. I spend enough time in front of a computer screen.
Self-imposed Exile
I don’t think I’ve attended a service at my old church in
three or four years. My spiritual appetite has been fed in other places:
“being” the church instead of “going” to church. I get to do that daily. I’m
blessed to work with a non-profit, Unity Unlimited, Inc. and Opal’s Farm, that
is faith-based and inclusive of everyone. Its mission is to provide for and minister
to (serve) oft forgotten and marginalized communities in Fort Worth. Jesus
called them “the least of these”. I get to be of service daily. My vocation is
the same as my avocation.
I was relieved to hear that others struggle with the same
issue. In his book, “Scary Close”, Donald Miller said something to the effect
that he was a “Christian writer who hadn’t been to church in five years.
Lately, there’s been a nagging longing for spiritual
community. I’ve been missing a home church, or more accurately, a church home:
a place where I belong, where I can have community with other believers, and
where I can celebrate and incorporate the Eucharist, the body and blood of
Jesus, in my life.
I’ve been blessed to have stepped out of my comfort zone.
Stepping out is never easy, but over the last few months I visited several
churches outside my long-held religious tradition. I’ve discovered how much I
miss corporate worship of the Creator and the community of other disciples. There’s
a huge difference in being a Christian and being a disciple.
This past Sunday I visited a church my friend attends. The service was beautiful, the people friendly, and the Eucharist was celebrated in a way that reminded me of the beauty of community. Our time together was holy. I left feeling far less alone in my faith. That’s a good thing…
I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know my faith was never meant to be exclusive of other Jesus followers. The writer of Hebrews urges the Hebrew Christians to remain faithful to gathering together. It’s for their benefit and growth. It’s time for me to revisit this advice.
How About You?
What is your experience with this? I’d love to hear from
others who struggle with this issue and how its resolution (of suggestions
anyway).
gregoryjoel.com 