The Melheimian Sabbatiblog

Adolescence?

"You still don't know what you're dealing with do you? Perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility."  -  Ash, Alien (1979)

Twain, Sunday School and Change

Here's a fun little historical Sunday School piece you might have overlooked from The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Twain describes the instructional style of one Mr. Walters, the Sunday-school teacher, whose "voice had acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days."

"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There - that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see one little girl who is looking out of the window. I am afraid she thinks I am out there somewhere, perhaps up in one of the trees making a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you how good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good."

So, has anything changed?

Dana's Heart, Mind, Soul

My buddy Dana Hanson from http://www.transformationleaders.blogspot.com/ is doing a series on loving God with your heart, mind, soul and strength this week. Here was yesterdays. Follow him all week, make come comments and tell him Melheim sent you.

                                            heart                               

We use the word “heart” a lot. Even with young children. We often teach little ones to love Jesus with all their heart. We ask them, “Where is Jesus?” They reply, “Jesus is in my heart,” as they point to their tummies. I don’t teach Jesus this way with small children. I teach them Jesus is all around them covering them everywhere.

Then what about the heart? The biblical understanding of the word, when it is not referring to the actual physical organ in your body, has to do with your choices. “Will,” “spirit” and “heart” are basically interchangeable words in the Bible. Your “heart” has to do with the choices you make. Your “will” and your “spirit” have to do with choices. You can substitute “choices” when you see these words and it will usually be an accurate understanding.

Choices assume action. To choose is to exercise your own freedom. When you “love the Lord God with all your heart,” you seek the good of God’s plan through your choices. You actively partner with God to bring about what he wants brought about in the life you are leading together. To put your heart into it is to live as if it were so.

Blog Flame

A recent comment from one of our blog readers is interesting enough to post:

"Either quit blaming your troubles on something 'out there' (The Church, your minister ...) and get on with building a godly, caring community with the rest of us or go and start your own group of perfect christians and christianity (commonly known as a Cult)." - Richard

Preja Vu

My family is back in Minnesota for Bible Camps and sports and I'm 1000 miles away in my quiet sabbatihouse, finishing up some writing and cartoons. With the house really quiet, the birds singing and the sound of the water running into the pool, I've had lots of time to think. It has been a wonderful year, but it has flown. I almost expect Kathryn and Joseph to burst in the house - home from school - and plop down on the sofa. I'm guess I'm getting a bit of a preview of what it will be like in a few years to say goodbye to the kids and send them off into the world.

A "preja vu" if you would.

It makes me want to savor the time I have with them, blow off the negative, and make sure they know how precious they are. I am not sure I'd be this aware and thankful had I not taken the year off to do this Colorado sabbatical.

I have been wrestling in prayer with a number of things lately that I'd appreciate your prayers on as well:

1. A major presentation to a major group of investers in July.

2. A couple feature film projects I may be getting involved with by fall.

3. The Big One: Both of our kids would have loved to stay in Colorado... permanently. They made such wonderful friends that it was down-right painful to tear them away. Arlyce is convinced we belong in MN. We have 15 years worth of friends and connections there, a beautiful office on the river, and a cabin on a lake. I am still waiting for a clearer picture. It would be an interesting move to open an office near Colorado Springs - home of dozens of national and international ministry organizations. Back home we have a great new CEO, Brad Lynch, at the helm.  And me? I can literally do my writing, creating and hosting FINKtanks anywhere. (Anywhere inspirational, that is).

Anyway, while running the two miles around our neighborhood circle and praying yesterday, I spied a penny lying on the road. Now, I haven't stooped to pick up a lot of pennies in the last few years, but for some reason I stopped and fetched this one. A few minutes later I spied a nickle in my path and picked it up, also. I chuckled and whispered a prayer, "Okay, God, if the next thing I see is a dime, I'll give staying here and opening a Colorado FINK office some more serious thought."

I have never been superstitious, and I have rarely been one to put God to the test or throw out a fleece. I usually pray "Thy will be done" and accept it without looking for loop-holes or confirmation. But I have to admit, I made the rest of the run scouring the pavement. Twenty minutes later I turned into the driveway with - alas - no dime or confirmation in sight.

I also finished the day and forgot all about it.

This morning I went out for an early run, made it down to the stop sign on HW83 and, instead of continuing on left to the stop light to complete the circle, for some reason I turned around and headed back up the hill toward the house. You guessed it:

There, at about the same place I told God to give me a dime the day before…

One shiney new dime.

I broke out laughing on the spot: "Well God, I guess I was just about one day too early with my prayer!"

I'm almost afraid to go running tomorrow.

I'm afraid I'll find a quarter and have to start looking for office staff.

Anyway, that's the story from Franktown. Have a great Sunday.

Obit

You may have already seen this flying over the internet, but I thought it was funny enough to be worth a post:

 

"Today we mourn the passing of an old friend, by the name of Common Sense. Common Sense lived a long life but recently died from heart failure. No one really knows how old he was since his birth records were lost long ago in bureaucratic red tape. He selflessly devoted his life to service in schools, hospitals, homes, factories and offices, helping folks get jobs done without fanfare and foolishness.

 

A veteran of the Industrial Revolution, the Great Depression, and the Technological Revolution, Common Sense survived cultural and educational trends. However, he watched in pain as good people became ruled by self-seeking lawyers and politicians. His health rapidly deteriorated when schools began charging six year old boys with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate and reports of teachers being fired for reprimanding unruly students. It declined even further when schools had to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student but cannot inform the parent when the female student is pregnant or wants an abortion.

 

Finally, Common Sense lost his will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, criminals received better treatment than victims, and federal judges stuck their noses in everything from Boy Scouts to professional sports. Finally a woman who was stupid enough not to realize that coffee is hot and was awarded a huge payout caused Common Sense to finally throw in the towel. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by two stepbrothers: My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Musical Poets

I like musicians who are poets more than poets who are musicians. Here's one who stumbled into my office a while back. Check We Will Carry Them Away
by John McAndrew

    One by one, tear by tear,
  Falling like the rain
  One by one, tear by tear,
  We will carry them away.
 
  We carry round this bag of stones
  Bending from the weight
  We carry it all alone,
  What's inside, we just won't say.
 
  Children know when
  something's wrong
  Children feel it must be me.
  We help them know
  that it's not them
  So they can say, "It's not me,
  it's not me."
 
  Oh what courage it takes
  Oh what a difference it makes
  To open up your bag
  And throw your stones away.
   
   From our hearts to our eyes
  To our fingertips
  Each one we let fall
  Let's more love come back,
  come back in...so
 
  One by one, tear by tear,
  Falling like the rain
  One by one, tear by tear,
  We will carry them away
  One by one, tear by tear,
  We will carry them away.

Institutional Church

Here's an interesting side of the institutional church debate from Eugene Peterson (March - Christianity Today).

"...many Christians would look at this church and say it's dead, merely an institutional expression of the faith.

What other church is there besides institutional? There's nobody who doesn't have problems with the church, because there's sin in the church. But there's no other place to be a Christian except the church. There's sin in the local bank. There's sin in the grocery stores. I really don't understand this naïve criticism of the institution. I really don't get it.

Frederick von Hugel said the institution of the church is like the bark on the tree. There's no life in the bark. It's dead wood. But it protects the life of the tree within. And the tree grows and grows and grows and grows. If you take the bark off, it's prone to disease, dehydration, death.

So, yes, the church is dead but it protects something alive. And when you try to have a church without bark, it doesn't last long. It disappears, gets sick, and it's prone to all kinds of disease, heresy, and narcissism.

In my writing, I hope to recover a sense of the reality of congregation—what it is. It's a gift of the Holy Spirit. Why are we always idealizing what the Holy Spirit doesn't idealize? There's no idealization of the church in the Bible—none. We've got two thousand years of history now. Why are we so dumb?"

(Link to the article)

24 in Buffalo

"He's free!" said Eric about his baby brother, looking at the closed casket.

I just spent 24 hours in Buffalo at Alex Lynch's funeral just now. Father Brad and brother Eric did an amazing job of speaking to Alex's joy, witness, and resiliance in the pain.  Pastor Fred spoke of bacon and starburst and gamecube and kissing dolphins and the resurrection. Rick Barron and Todd Ernster sang two of our Scripture songs and Patrick Patterson did a reading. Friend/Faith Ink Partner and Alex's uncle Mike Blackwell held the whole thing together. The whole Christian community surrounded them in a way that spoke volumes and volumes.

Pity the child who dies alone, and the family that walks from the grave alone.

Arlyce and I stayed at the host home of Alex's confirmation guide. Three years with him was a powerful experience for this woman who thought she signed up to minister to kids - only to be ministered to herself.

Little Grace Barron was entranced by Alex in the casket and wanted to speak to him and touch him. She had been there only a month earlier and was praying for him nightly. The theologian in her spoke too many too wonderful things to repeat. The most profound moment was when she had her mom write "Alex Died" on her etch-a-sketch, then she flipped the switch and death ended.

The trip home didn't end as planned. We sat in Buffalo for hours, waiting for a plane from MSP that was grounded in a hail storm. Then I sat for hours in Minneapolis. When I finally arrived in Denver at 2 am, my ride called and said, "I just got a speeding ticket. I'll be late."

Twenty minutes later he called, "The car just broke down."

An hour later I arrived with a rental car and a plastic milk carton filled with gas, hoping it was out of gas.

It was.

So, at 4 am I finally made it home from Alex's goodbye and fell into my bed-for-a-year in a house 1000 miles from my wife and kids and 2000 miles from the sacred space where Alex's tired body now rests while his soul dances.

St. Thomas Down Under

Here's a fun little piece on St. Thomas Aquinas and the Prostitute on the blog of a new-found friend from down under, Joshua Zugai.