The Melheimian Sabbatiblog

Virtual Seminary

I remember sitting in the second row of an inner city church one day shortly after 9/11 when Len Sweet said something like, "our B1 bomber cost a billion dollars… theirs just cost a few airline tickets."

The next morning Len bought me a bagel and we began a discussion on another disruptive technology: Virtual Seminary.

There will be a day when someone will say, "our bricks and mortar seminary cost a hundred million dollars (and people have to disrupt their families and actually move there)… theirs cost a few video cameras and router cables."

It occurs to me that this might be a most disruptive thought to existing seminaries.

What would it look like? Which field practicioners around the country and world would you want to see as teachers? How would existing seminaries survive if 50K people were taking courses from the same 300 teachers and the other 10K seminary faculty in the world didn't have students. (Prof. "But I'm tenured... you can't fire me!"  Sem President.  "But you have no students. I can't pay you.")

There's a thought for the next week.

Virtual seminary.

What do you think?

Aaaaaaaaamazing

I just came back from an amazing musical mountain retreat that was one of the highlights of my life. We took 9 FINK Music Guilders away and wrote 28 Bible verse songs in 48 hours.

 

The first 8 albums Faith Inkubators produced were Luther's Catechism verbatim, along with accompanying Bible verses. They were fine and campy for their day, but ten years has passed and some of the music just didn't work anymore.

 

So we put the word out in our Faith Inkubators Music Guild (40 musicians) that we needed to do a little rewrite and invited them to the mountains outside of Salida, CO.

 

We voted the two worst songs off each album, then wrote new ones (NRSV verbatim + Luther's Catechsim). Then we chose the next two weakest songs and did the same. With a portable studio and a bunch of inspired folks, we cranked and cranked and...

This was our modus operandi:
1. Once the verses were chosen, we broke into writing groups of 2 -3 and handed each a verse.
2. Four groups disappeared to write, and came back with songs which we cranked out every 15 minutes
3. Groups would take their new song to the studio downstairs and lay down the guitar first and voice second
4. Then we'd mix the writing groups up and send them away with another verse, repeating the process.

 

Well, pardon my enthusiasm, but it was an amazing time. Prayer. Tears. Exhaustion. Food. And laughter, laughter, laughter.  Literally 28 in 48 hours. (Including hiking time, snowballs, eating, and only a little sleep.)

Thanks to Craig T. Olsen, Meg Sander, Tim Tahtinen, Dale Francis, Angie Witmer, Mike Lee, Dave Roggee, Jon Anderson, and to our host Nancy Nordhagen Hellenbolt!

We're gathering Feb. 15 at Badlands Studios, 423 S. Main in Stillwater for dinner, a listen to the songs, a divvy up of new verses, and photos of our next Guild Retreat site in Puerto Rico next January.

For extra photos, check the gallery called Aaaaamazing!

The First Annual FINK Music Guild Retreat!

Nine brave souls from the Faith Inkubators Music Guild have disappeared into the mountains of Colorado this week.

We're here to choose the worst songs on our first 8 Faith Inkubators confirmation albums and vote them off the island. We'll write 16 new songs in the space of 48 hours together by A. Picking 8 dogs a day, B. Assigning the rewrites, C. Leaving you alone, D. Gathering over steaks and wine to hear what you've written, E. Recording our new stuff and then playing music into the wee hours of the night.

As long as we’ve got you here, we’ve got a few surprises planned. To warm up, we’re going to write four new Advent songs, four new Lenten songs, and eight Stewardship Songs. Thirty-two songs in 48 hours.

We'll also want to hear the best of what you've been writing personally and discuss ways to help you publicize your music, book future gigs inside the Faith Ink network of churches, and cross-sell your newest stuff on a new Faith Ink music store that’s just up and running. Here’s our tentative schedule:

Sunday

Denver International AirportEvening  Arrival Pick up at Franktown,
Dinner  At the Melheim's Sabbatical House, 7908 Kelty Trail

Evening activity: Choose 1 of the following Four Texts from your assigned week and write a song with your partner

       

Matthew   3:1-12

Matthew 1:18-25

Isaiah 40:1-11

Luke 1:68-79

Monday

Early  Drive to the cabin (Time to listen to the 80 songs and vote on which ones stay and which ones go.)

The FINK ReWrite Project (Voting on the 2 worst songs on FINK albums 1 - 4, assigning the re-writes)

Afternoon  Write songs, ski Monarch or relax and goof off

PM  Show & Tell (Show us what you wrote today and we'll tell you how wonderful it is)

Spontaneous Recording & Jam Session I ( we'll record scratch copies of the new works - to be polished later)

The New Bible Song Sunday School 2005 (We'll show you how we incorporated the 120 songs you wrote, along with sign language, Melheim cartoons, and He Qi art, into a great new arts-based 3rd - 6th grade offering)

Late Night  Discussion: Marketing Your Next Album & the Future of FINK Radio

 

Tuesday

AM  The FINK ReWrite Project (Voting on the 2 worst songs on FINK albums 5 - 8, assigning the re-writes)

The FINK Lectionary Music Project 2008 (52 weeks of texts x 3 years x 4 texts per Sunday = 624 songs)

Harnessing the Power of the FINK Network to help you book gigs and sell songs

Afternoon  Ski Monarch, soak in a hot spring, write music or goof off

PM  Show & Tell Session II (Show us what you wrote today and we'll tell you how wonderful it is)

Spontaneous Recording & Jam Session II ( we'll record scratch copies of the new works - to be polished later)

Late Discussion: Enhanced CD-Roms, selling songs online, & other new technologies coming down the pike

 

Wednesday

AM  Early Breakfast and high-tail it back to Denver/airport

 

Aside from the rewrites of the first 8 FINK albums, we're making sure we have at least one NRSV song for every Sunday during Advent and Lent for the Revised Common Lectionary. We're also writing 10 new stewardship songs from among these texts:

 

                               

Matthew   6:1-6, 16-21

Matthew 27:57-66 or John   19:38-42

Matthew   22:15-22

Matthew   22:34-46

Matthew 25:14-30

1 Peter   4:1-8

Ephesians 6:10-20

Mark 12:38-44

Colossians 3:1-11

Luke 12:13-21

Luke   16:1-13

1 Timothy 6:6-19

Luke 16:19-31

Luke 17:5-10

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7 or 2 Kings   5:1-3, 7-15c

Psalm 100

If you'd like to take a stab at writing one (and kicking one of the songs we write this week off the album, go for it! We'll need to see it by March 1. Send it via email in an MP3 format. (No atoms, please.) If your song is chosen, it will be professionally engineered at our expense, you'll become one of our "Musicians of the Month" on the front page of the Faith Inkubators website, you keep your own copyright and we'll share your work with the world of FINK and drive thousands of young ears to your website to buy whatever it is you want to sell them.

I'll share some photos on Wednesday upon our return.

Read Any Good Condemnations Lately?

So, what did Luther REALLY think of his colleagues in ministry?

Here's a little something from the preamble to the Small Catechism for your enjoyment.

Martin Luther to All Faithful and Godly Pastors and Preachers: Grace, Mercy, and Peace in Jesus Christ, our Lord.

1] The deplorable, miserable condition which I discovered lately when I, too, was a visitor, has forced and urged me to prepare [publish] this Catechism, or Christian doctrine, in this small, plain, simple form. 2] Mercy! Good God! what manifold misery I beheld! The common people, especially in the villages, have no knowledge whatever of Christian doctrine, and, alas! many pastors are altogether incapable and incompetent to teach [so much so, that one is ashamed to speak of it]. 3] Nevertheless, all maintain that they are Christians, have been baptized and receive the [common] holy Sacraments. Yet they [do not understand and] cannot [even] recite either the Lord's Prayer, or the Creed, or the Ten Commandments; they live like dumb brutes and irrational hogs; and yet, now that the Gospel has come, they have nicely learned to abuse all liberty like experts.

4] O ye bishops! [to whom this charge has been committed by God,] what will ye ever answer to Christ for having so shamefully neglected the people and never for a moment discharged your office? [You are the persons to whom alone this ruin of the Christian religion is due. 5] You have permitted men to err so shamefully; yours is the guilt; for you have ever done anything rather than what your office required you to do.] May all misfortune flee you! [I do not wish at this place to invoke evil on your heads.] You command the Sacrament in one form [but is not this the highest ungodliness coupled with the greatest impudence that you are insisting on the administration of the Sacrament in one form only, and on your traditions] and insist on your human laws, and yet at the same time you do not care in the least [while you are utterly without scruple and concern] whether the people know the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the Ten Commandments, or any part of the Word of God. Woe, woe, unto you forever!

6] Therefore I entreat [and adjure] you all for God's sake, my dear sirs and brethren, who are pastors or preachers, to devote yourselves heartily to your office, to have pity on the people who are entrusted to you, and to help us inculcate the Catechism upon the people, and especially upon the young. And let those of you who cannot do better [If any of you are so unskilled that you have absolutely no knowledge of these matters, let them not be ashamed to] take these tables and forms and impress them, word for word, on the people, as follows:--

Speaking of Stewardship and the Rich

Here's some ammo for stewardship preaching:

Do you think you aren't "the rich" in Jesus' parable? Think again.

If you make $25,000/ year you are in the top 10% richest people in the world.   There are 5,398,344,113 people poorer than you. 

If you make $36,000, you rank in the top 4.33% richest people in the world.  There are 5,740,000,000 people poorer than you. 

If you make $50,000/ year you are in the top 0.899% richest people in the world.  There are 5,946,042,435 people poorer than you.

If you make $100,000/year you are in the top 0.6% richest people in the world.   There are 5,963,992,435 people poorer than you. 

If you make $200,000/year you are in the top 0.001% richest people in the world. There are 5,999,892,435 people poorer than you.   

Oh, and in case you’re interested you are the 107,565 richest person in the world if you make 200 grand/year. Stats calculated from GLOBAL RICH

Robbery, the Rich, and the Children Are Watching

We're back from a winter Puerto Rico vacation where we surfed, got sunburned, and were robbed while we lounged on the beach. We're minus the cash, a cell phone, a bunch of credit cards & drivers' licenses, a graphing calculator and all of my son's homework.

While filing the police reports in broken Spanish, it occured to me that my kids were watching, and this $1200 loss was possibly the price of a powerful life lesson they would never forget.

So, what could we salvage out of this, and what could we teach our kids that would be worth $1200?

Here's what we came up with: "They have stolen our money, but they will not steal our joy and they will not steal our vacation, or they will have stolen triple from us."

It also occured to me that, to get my $1200 worth, we need to teach the kids something about prayer for the next 1200 nights. (A dollar a night isn't too much for this lesson)

So here's the goofy Melheimian committment. We'll be praying for the robbers every night from now on until my daughter graduates. (About 1200 nights) Our prayers, along with those for Grandpa, the tsunami victims, and the cousins, will be that our gracious and amazingly generous God would bless these crooks so richly that one day, lavished in love, they'll turn around. I'm secretly adding a prayer that one day our kids will be at a church somewhere where a former robber stands up and gives a testamony saying, "I used to be a theif, but God kept blessing me, and blessing me, and blessing me, and finally I had to give it up. God is just too good!"

I'm going to pay a little every night to teach my kids - and myself - about following Jesus command to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

Some people pay more than that for an education.

 

Leggo Church

For those of you who love to build leggos, and those of you who love to build churches, you really ought to check this one out.

Next time you're teaching confirmation or Sunday School (or preaching) on the church, bring some of these up! Be sure to credit the source.

Click here.

He Qi Colledtion

Here's something you might enjoy. It's the complete collection of the works of our friend, Dr. He Qi of Nanjing Theological Seminar. He will soon be selling handmade silks, and signed/numbered prints of these. If you would like to support his work, and if you know of someone who would appreciate a print for their birthday or another special occasion, pass this site on to them. They can contact him through me, or go to www.heqiarts.com .

This Christmas Morning, Installment 23

Epilogue

A radio alarm began to blare “Jingle Bell Rock” from the top of the stairs. Dewey came barreling down shrieking, “Where’s my presents?” Leo and Ariel were on his heals, followed by

Roy

, Fern and, at last, Monty. Jana tried to convince everyone that they should pause and read the Christmas story like Grandma always used to do, but to no avail. Paper and bows were flying everywhere and everyone was wrapped up in unwrapping their gifts. Leo and Ariel began to fight over a large box with no tag attached. Monty opened a new cell phone and stepped into the closet to try it out. Fern removed the cover from a tiny jewel box, screamed and leaped into

Roy

’s arms, peppering him with kisses. Dewey managed to destroy another lamp as he tripped over the tree lights in a mad scavenge for additional presents. Grandpa watched it all for a moment, then disappeared to the bathroom and returned with an arm load of shopping bags.

Ariel opened hers first. She blinked and smiled as she tore the paper off a box of old Spartan yearbooks and a pile of antique love letters from WWII. “I thought you might find these interesting,” said Grandpa with a knowing wink. “Might learn a little something about real romance.”

Leo grinned and gave his old ally a high five at the “Mega Death” CD and two tickets to the “Wrestle-Mania Americana Extravaganza” coming to the Fargodome over spring break. “Grandpa, you’re way cool!”

“I know,” said Grandpa.

Fern thanked her future father-in-law for the cobalt blue antique bridal basket that had belonged to Melissa.

Roy

smiled at the box of ear plugs. Dewey thanked his new Grandpa for the twenty dollar bill. Monty was still in the closet so his present would have to wait.

Last of all, Grandpa presented Jana with a large, soft object wrapped roughly in newspaper comics and tied with bailing twine.

“Dad?”

“I thought you might like to finish this.”

Jana peeled the paper back and exhaled. “Mom’s quilt?” The beautiful work of love was stitched in a snowflake pattern of reds and greens with an unfinished cross inside a heart. The tears returned. Grandpa nodded and bit his lip. She squeezed him again.

Ariel’s scream broke the magic of the moment and Jana’s ears picked up the all-too-familiar sounds of a tinsel choking feline. Leo, Roy and Dewey dove for the cat. Monty stepped out of the closet and into the fray. “Get her out! Outside!” Jana joined the chase.

Leo caught the unfortunate animal by the tail and dashed her to the doorway, but found himself a fraction too late.

“Oooooh!” He dropped her on the stoop.

“Gross,” said Ariel.

“Neat,” said Dewey.

Leo looked down in disgust at the mess on his slippers, then smiled. “Uh, grandpa. I think I found your other cuff link.”

Monty and Leo looked up from the doorway, then motioned the others to join them. Across the yard near the barn, a large red-tailed hawk sat perched on a fence post. The bird watched them for a moment, then stretched out her strong wings.

“Thanks mom,” whispered Monty.

“Or God or whoever you are,” Jana added.

“What are they talking about?” asked Leo.

“They think your dead grandmother is a bird,” said Grandpa, trying his best to spoil the moment.

“Weird.” Leo shrugged his shoulders, handed the cuff link to his grandfather and returned to torment his sister.

And bowing her head as if to salute the holy morning, the hawk lifted off into the crisp country air. She made one lazy loop above the farm house, screeched out her “good-bye” and disappeared into the clouds.

Forever.

Note: This is a stage play. If you'd like to explore doing it as a dinner theater/fund raiser in your church next Advent, let me know.

This Christmas Morning, Installment 22

Chapter 8, Part 3

Grandpa slumped into his chair, suddenly worn. “Hope? That’s all I have. Hope.” He began to weep.

“Daddy, your little girl is hurting here and she doesn’t have...” He turned away. She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “Daddy! Your little girl is hurting and she doesn’t have a mommy. Okay, her mommy isn’t gone. She’s dead. And now all she has is you. You!” He broke away from her eyes. “Daddy! Does she have you? Dad? I love you, Dad. But if you can’t let me love you, would you at least let me love the part of mom I see in you? Daddy. Dad?”

Grandpa began to shake. “Hope. Yes, I hope. But it still hurts. You can’t know how much it hurts...” His words turned to an uncontrollable sob. He could not fight both the tears and his daughter’s embrace. She wrapped herself tightly around his quivering frame, unwilling to let him go.

“Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He spoke between gasps. “I know she’s with God. I know I’ll see her again someday. But it’s hard. So hard.”

“It’s hard for me, too.”

“I’ve been such a fool. Such an old fool.”

“Yes, dad.” She held him even tighter.

“An idiot. A complete idiot.”

Jana nodded. “An idiot.”

“A blind...”

She fed him the words “...stubborn...”

“ ...stubborn...”

“...mean...”

He pulled a tissue from her coat, “...mean...”

“...and nasty...”

“...mean and nasty old fool.”

“Yup.”

Grandpa blew his nose. “You don’t have to agree with me. You’ve never been so agreeable before.”

“You’ve never been so right before.” They held each other for a moment, half laughing, half crying. Finally it felt safe to let him go. “Dad, before when you said all you had left was hope? I’ve felt that way before. But it’s not true. We have each other. You have me and Monty and Roy. And Leo and Melissa...”

Grandpa sniffed. Ariel.

“What?”

Grandpa sniffed again. “Her name is Ariel. You know, like what you break off a car?”

“Right. Ariel. Ariel. And now Fern.” Jana smiled. “And Dewey.”

“Dewey?”

“Dewey!”

Grandpa took the tissue from Jana’s hand and blew his nose. “I was starting to feel so much better before you mentioned that name.”

She hit him gently in the chest. “Dad!”

“All right. All right,” she said. “And Dewey.”

“He’s part of our family now. You might as well accept it.”

“I don’t have to like him, do I?”

Jana wound her arms around her father but held him even more firmly with her eyes. “No. But you have to love him.”

“I suppose if I don’t you’re going to make me feel guilty.”

“Hey, love... guilt...”

“Sometimes part of the same emotion.”

They held each other for a moment longer. The house begin to stir. “I love you, dad.”

“I...” there was a long pause. Jana smiled and glared at the same time as he considered the words that were so hard for him to say. “...know.”

“Dad!”

“I said I know!”

“I said I love you.” She pounded his chest with each syllable. “Say it! I... love... you’ Say it! Why is it so hard for you to say it?” Jana grabbed his jaw, opening and closing it with each syllable. “I love you. I love you.”

“Okay! I love you. I love you! There! Are you happy?”

A broad smile spread over his daughter’s face. “Yeah. I’m happy. I’m happy. Merry Christmas, dad.”

“Yeah. Merry Christmas.” They embraced again. “I hate to spoil all this Christmas cheer and all,” said Grandpa, “but I gotta pee.”

She held him for a quiet minute more. Scents of his Old Spice mixed with the perfume in mother’s robe and for one mystical moment Jana forgot where she was again. Then suddenly she knew where she was.

Peace. She was at peace.