The one that got away

I've heard people say before that dogs don't dream. Personally, I think that's a piece of 'crap.' And here's a crappy story to explain why.

It's not unusual for either Dakota or Lola to react, move or make sounds while sleeping. Sometimes their feet will move in unison as if she were running, presumably chasing a rabbit or a stray piece of bacon on the floor. Sometimes they get bothered while dreaming and begin to whimper, breathing heavily with crimped eyebrows.

Well, not too long ago Heather and I were settling in to bed as were Dakota and Lola on their doggy beds on either side of our bed. The lights were off, crickets could be heard outside, calmness was upon us as heavy as the comforter blanket.

Soon we began hearing an adorable whimper of the not-quite-one-year-0ld puppy, Lola at the bedside. "She must be chasing a bunny," I whispered. "Or running from one," chuckled Heather back at me. Moments later the whimpering and slight rustling beside our bed ceased and all was once again calm.

Heather and I have a rule: there are certain smells that are strictly forbidden under the covers at bedtime as there is no means of escape. But shortly after Lola's daring dream our noses became highly offended by a smell so vile that it, noteably, could not be produced by a human.

However, after the usual amount of dissapation time passed we were both still strongly bothered by the abhorous aroma. After some investigation, we turned on the light. Lola, still curled up in a little doggy sleep ball, was lying next to one freshly prod

uced, still warm piece of K-9 excrement.

Yuck!

How did that happen? She's sleeping. She's dreaming. Then all of the sudden there's poop on the floor. Lola is finely house trained, and my ears can attest that she never stood up. I

can only surmise that her dream was so scary that it literally 'scared the sh*# out of her.'

So, have a laugh at my expense. My name is Nathan, and I have cleaned up dream induced dog poop in the late hours of the night. She produced only one small piece, which makes me think she wasn't intentionally unloading. Rather, somehow, in some weird twisted way, this little piece of poop was just 'the one that got away.'

Theological Jenga

I remember vividly just what it was like when I finally figured out that the Bible was not authored word for word by God's hand. It was my first year of seminary. I also remember thinking, "Oh crap, is the Bible even meaningful at all then anymore?" After a few deep breaths I gathered my frantic thoughts and moved forward.

Yes, the Bible is meaningful to me even though it wasn't dictated audibly by God to faithful trance-induced ancient writers. I can still look to the Bible on matters of faith and practice knowing that it was written by a haggle of misfits, outcasts, kings and wonderers over the span of hundreds of years. I haven't thrown out the Bible.

Over the course of my upbringing I was given lots of little peices of theological dogma and truths. With these peices I formed theological bricks and began to build my wall which represents my theology.

Rob Bell has been known to talk about this brick wall. He says that many of us are afraid that if we remove a brick from the wall the entire thing will colapse. And that's a scary feeling for most people to entertain, because our theology partially forms our world view, our life paradigm.

So, when I removed the brick that read, "Bible: authored by God," I was afraid everything would come crashing down.

But it didn't...

Unfortunately, the notion of a wall can carry with it the idea of keeping people or other ideas out. Theological stone-walling can lead to close-mindedness and judgmentalism, so this image doesn't quite do it for me.

Rather, I would like to pose the picture of a theological game of Jenga. If, in this game I remove the same piece that advocates divine authorship, I can dust it off, smooth an edge or two and re-place it on the top. Now, granted this takes some gentleness and a smooth hand, but I think it is the healthier way to operate.

I met many other people in college who for the first time took an academic course on the New Testament and came out as atheists. Their entire faith had been dashed in a 3 month class taught by just one person. I can only imagine that one or two pieces of their theological Jenga tower had been violently jerked out causing the rest to tumble. And this was sad for me to watch, especially as a college pastor in later years.

My hope for this post is that when our paradigms are challenged we won't throw out the divine baby with the theological bath water. There are many Jenga bricks from my childhood that still need to be taken out, examined, polished and put somewhere else. My sister is helping me with this process right now. I can confess that some of my peices have been discarded completely because they just didn't fit. And that's fine. It is a healthy process that we call growing in faith and understanding.

Maybe you have experienced your own Jenga tower topple. No doubt it was a painful process. Maybe yours is swaying and feels unsturdy. I wish I had a remedy to fix such a problem, but I don't. All I can say is I know it's a difficult process that brings you to a place of uncertainty, and nobody likes that feeling. I can only offer my story as hope or perhaps inspiration.

If you are swaying I'm happy to talk with you or suggest some books that helped me. Grace and peace to you.

Flexitarian

Two of the four chaplain residents are vegetarians. And I must say that the hospital cafeteria is not very welcoming to them. Yes, there is a salad bar and side items at the home-cookin' line, but I imagine this gets old pretty quick with such limited options. Not to mention, the soup called vegetable soup often appears to contain bits of mystery meat and the side item green beans and such are often cooked in bacon. (Sounds good to me.)

BTW: if you like bacon, click here.

However, just in the past couple of weeks the cafeteria has made meager attempts, though attempts nonetheless, at better welcoming our non-Babe-eating friends. Often soup will be labeled when it is strictly vegetarian, and just today one of the lines was catering intentionally to vegetarians (Vegetarian Delight with Great Grains!).

Also, there has appeared a new sign in the serving area which reads, "Flex-uh-tayr-ian." Below is a definition: one who eats 1 meatless meal per week.

Wanting to prove to my colleagues that I'm not simply a mindless meat eating carnivour, I've decided to take up the cause. Today I ate my third vegetarian meal in only two weeks. So I'm actually ahead of the curve.

I have noticed on my no-meat days that I become hungry a tad bit earlier than usual; however, it's kind of a nice feeling knowing that my body is going to have to convert some of my stored fat into energy (die fat, die!).

So, if you're looking for even the mildest attempt at bettering your health, perhaps you'll join me in riding the flexitarian wave that will likely never sweap the country.

The Truth about Chuck Norris

For Christmas my wife gave me a book. 'Tis a good book. A funny book. I have since read this book cover to cover, and I can safely say that it is one of my favorite books.


The Truth about Chuck Norris: 400 Facts About the World's Greatest Human was written by Ian Spector when he was a nerdy college student. Launching a website which produced a random fact generator that spit out thousands of Chuck Norris jokes, Mr. Spector's site quickly averaged over 20 million hits a month. I'm sure that number has gone up since 2007 when the book was published.


So, what is the Chuck Norris phenomenon? How did it get started? I can't venture to say how or why Mr. Norris is so popular as the can-do-all-things-human, but my guess is the success of many seasons of Walker, Texas Ranger played a significant role.


The basic premise behind a Chuck Norris joke is this: If it can't be done by anyone else, Chuck can do it. I could continue with a dry description of what is classified as a good Norris joke, but I'd rather just give you some. You'll get the point pretty quickly I think. Enjoy.


Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he never cries.


Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.


Chuck Norris makes onions cry.


Chuck Norris is the only human to have ever tamed a dinosaur.


Superman owns a pair of Chuck Norris pajamas.


When the Incredible Hulk gets angry, he turns into Chuck Norris.


When the Boogey Man goes to sleep at night he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.


Chuck Norris can eat coal and poop out diamonds.


A Cobra once bit Chuck Norris on the leg. After 5 days of excruciating pain the cobra died.


Chuck Norris' DNA isn't a double helix. It's barbed wire.


When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he mails blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Chuck Norris has never had to pay taxes.


Chuck Norris can turn back time by simply staring at the clock and flexing.


The symbol for Chuck Norris in sign language is a middle finger on fire.


Jesus wore a bracelet that read "WWCND?"


Chuck Norris won a staring contest with Medusa.


When you open a can of "whoop-ass," Chuck Norris jumps out.

Chuck Norris can speak Brail.


I think you get the point. If these jokes aren't funny to you, then I'm sorry, you just don't get them and probably operate on a higher level of sophistication than the rest of us. For those who do find them funny, these jokes can be made up by anyone, so if you have any originals, please post them on the comments section.


And finally, when I got the book for Christmas it was not wrapped. It only had a note card, fastened on by ribbon, which read, "So this book was wrapped, but the picture of Church Norris on the cover made the paper rip itself off..."

On the Mend

It was finally evening. Night had fallen on the day that opened with the tragic death of an infant which nearly ripped my heart from me (see previous post). My wife had taken care of my fragil spirit and now our new friends were doing the same with a warm meal in their apartment, one building over from ours.

Tom and Cynthia are parents of an almost 1 year old cute sweety pie named Lydia (link for picture). And Lydia was finishing up her evening bath when I was asked if I'd like to put her to bed. Already being one of Lydia's biggest fans, I accepted the offer not knowing that my wife and Cynthia had been kniving in order to further care for my saddened heart.

With some instruction they left me in a dark room with precious Lydia who absolutely loves to play peek-a-boo. Wrapped up in my arms we sat in a rocking chair together fifteen minutes as she downed a bottle of formula making an adorable grunting sound with each swallow. (Dinner right before bed? I'm jealous!)

Her little eyes opened and closed at me as they fought tiredness; and her tiny fingers grasped one of my fingers and then the bottle and then the pasifier. For fifteen minutes she warmed my heart just by eating, and grunting, and being tiny. She finished her meal and I put her in the crib, my heart a bit warmer and spirits somehow on the mend.

My day began by watching a baby pass into the great unknown we call death, and it ended by putting an endering dear baby to bed with a bottle. I witnessed a parent's worst nightmare come true, and I put to sleep two parents' beloved child who holds so many hopes and dreams. In the morning, when light was brightening my side of the earth I witnessed the deepest darkness. And in a dark room feeding a toddler I saw light.

Thank you Heather, Cynthia, Tom and little Lydia. Together, you somehow managed to bring me healing and hope once again.

Ready To Quit

I have witnessed some horrible things in my seven months so far as a chaplain at a hospital with a Trauma 1 status. I encountered the family of two victims of a serial killer when father and daughter were gunned down mid evening one day. I sat with and hugged on a co-worker during her first moments as a widow after her healthy-as-a-horse husband collapsed at the gym. I tried to comfort a family after a drunk driver traveled the wrong direction on the interstate killing an aunt and sending one child to the ICU. I grieved with a family who suddenly lost their 37 year old wife and mother for what seemed to be no reason at all.

Last Sunday morning, while on call, I added another to this horrible and vivid list that will remain etched in the granite of my memories.

A 28 day old baby girl was rushed into the ER after her grandmother found her breathless early that morning. The medical team did what they're best at for 20 minutes, then 30, then 45, but with no response from the fragile yet resilient little body. Mom and dad feared the worst when the doctor gave them permission enter the trauma bay during the commotion. Barely able to stand on two feet they walked, holding each other, me holding them both.

There’s a busy crowd of medical staff huddling around her little naked baby body which has tubes and wires coming out all over as CPR is preformed constantly by a nurse using only two fingers. After hearing that nothing else can be done the parents with no breath in their own lungs tell the doctor he can stop. The doctor then slowly and gently walks into the bay saying, “Ok, just stop…just stop.” I am unable to say anything to the family as they completely fall apart.

Back in a private family room tears and tissues are flowing freely. I sat silently in a chair with my own box of tissues virtually paralyzed as I repeatedly dried my own eyes and wiped my nose. I screamed inside, “Why?! How could this happen?” I was angry. Overwhelmed by the thought that this could be me, I cried. More than ever before, I cried. I had no words, but I wasn’t looking for any. Last night when these two went to bed they were parents, now they’re not.

Ten minutes went by. I said nothing. They said very little. One family member went to inform the rest of the family. Before he left the room he said to mom, “We never know God’s plan for us, but we have to accept it.” At this I became furious, "The hell this is God's plan!" It's just sick to think that a loving creator would intentionally cause something so horrific. But I couldn't speak. I could hardly move except to take another tissue.

Eventually, I got it together and played liaison between family and the coroner. I said almost nothing the rest of the time. When the detective was done I slipped out and came back to the office 2.5 hours later completely drained of everything in me. I was numb, shocked and overridden with a sense of injustice. Whose idea was this? The death of an infant is absolutely terrible, and being present when CPR ceased was one of the worst moments of my life. I didn't want any part of it. I was ready to quit being a chaplain.

Though I haven't quit, and I'm still here, my world has learned of a new shade of darkness. For two days I cried for this beautiful sweet giggling baby. And honestly, as I seek to hold up and care for others I'm realizing I need to be cared for also. My wife did this in a wonderful way that evening to her emotionally battered husband. And if you're a person of prayer, pray that peace will one day find its way to this family.

Amen.

Avatar

Last weekend my wife and I splurged with some of our Christmas money, finding out what all the hype is about, and ventured to see Avatar.

James Cameron, director, producer and/or writer of several box office monster movies such as Terminators 1, 2, and 3, Titanic, True Lies and Aliens, adds another hit to his notable list with the release of Avatar.

Capitalizing on the full extent of CGI capabilities, Avatar is visually pleasing and everything it's cracked up to be. Most of what is seen on screen is generated by computers which explains the films extended time spent in production. In the US Avatar took in 73 million opening weekend which puts in it 2nd place for a film released in December (I Am Legend holds 1st place, 77 million). Oversees it received 159 million which puts it on track to be a good investment considering the 400 million in production and advertising expenses.

Basic Premise: In the future mankind has discovered life on other planets while at the same time laid waste to most of the natural resources (and nature in general) on earth. Precious and lucrative material has been discovered underneath the native village at "Home Tree" which houses humanoid people called the Na'vi on the planet Pandora.

When efforts at diplomacy with the natives fail a group of trigger happy marines sets out to violently drive the natives out by destroying Home Tree itself. However, Jake Sully, a marine has the chance to join a program which allows humans to control the minds of their own genetically engineered and lab-grown Avatar, a replica of the Na'vi people. After learning their ways and falling in love with a native, Jake finds himself standing in between the edgy war ready marines and the Na'vi whom have embraced him as one of their own.

Viewers are taken inside the magical world found on Pandora. A new world and culture was created by the filmmakers which holds intrigue at every turn. Floating mountains, trees that people can communicate with, plants that illumine the night and creatures that bond-mind and spirit-with their rider all serve to fascinate viewers. For the first 90 minutes, Avatar takes you on a wild fascinating ride which picks up momentum and carries the excitement through the rest of the film.

One obvious observation is that the general direction of the plot seemed to mimc the early European Settlers as they began overtaking the Native Americans' land more forcefully at each turn. In short, this plot has been done before. The generall messages of the movie are: nature is all connected and must be conserved, earthling humans naturally destroy nature and white Euro-people are at the root of the problem.

I don't appreciate political messages in adventure movies, but I must say it was not at all a distraction. I must say, Avatar deserved all 8.7 stars given it by IMDB and possibly more. It is by far one of the most simply enjoyable films I've seen in a while.

Velvet Elvis, by Rob Bell

In December I had a month off from assigned reading for work so I inhaled some of my own books of which Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell was the last.

Rob Bell is pastor of a well known mega-chuch in Michigan named Mars Hill. As the founding pastor he began preaching at age 28, and the first service held approximately 1,000 people. The church quickly grew and now sees 10,000 people each week amongst its various sites around Grand Rapids.

The full title of the book is: Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith. And while Bell's hermeneutic will often be a fresh approach to interpreting the Bible, I think it's an audacious claim to "repaint" the entire Christian faith in less than 200 pages.

Bell interprets the Bible through the lens of social justice, which is why his teaching may seem fresh and rejuvinating to many brought up in the main stream conservative Bible belt. He emphasizes more strongly the social justice issues that Jesus pushed for, the stark political slant of the New Testament, and the need to live into one's own potential as one purs

ues God and God's vision for our world. Such issues may be foreign to traditional churchgoers who grew up hearing sermons which emphasized right belief a bit more than loving action.

This is not to say that Bell doesn't affirm traditional doctrine, in fact, he claims to practice historic orthodox Christian faith. Rather it is as if he has said to straight up church dogma, "Been there, got the t-shirt."

The book reads quickly, and the candor with which he writes is attractive. At one point in an early chapter he says something like this: I love the Bible. I believe it is God's word and is authoritative for life and faith. But sometimes when I hear people quote the Bible, it makes me want to barf. Can I say that? Can I get that off my chest?

Each chapter reads like a sermon in disguise. For me th

e book was hit and miss. Some chapters were enthrawling with new ideas and presentations of a Jesus who welcomed the unwelcome, hugged the untouchable, led a life of inclusion, and recognized the humanity in every person he met. But one or two chapters seemed to fizzle to the ground. Again, this is how it affected me. For some, the fizzly chapters may be the best ones - it's very subjective.

Overall, the book presents energetically what I would call progressively-conservative theology. As a possible litmus test I look forward to reading Bell's other books. I recommend Velvet Elvis to almost all "regular" Christians as a taste of something different, inspiring, yet still (in my opinion) Biblical.