What's the Point?

A journalist recently did an interview with me about my trip and thankfully after my rumbling babble asked the poignant question: “So what was the point of it all?”

Here then is my answer.

The congregation at GracePoint Fellowship permitted me to leave the pastorate for a short sabbatical in order that I might gain a needed fresh spiritual perspective on the world, life, and other things that matter. That is what leads to the point. Often anyone who works too long in one position can lose perspective on what’s important.

The pics that inhabit this blog indicate a penult to the lesson of this sabbatical. It starts with “Luister” translated “listen”. (If you read “a sign from God?” and the journey to get there in this blog you can get the short story behind my journey leading to the encounter with St. Benedict’s pivotal rule.)

“Listen” according to St. Benedict is an exercise that breaks the bondage of self-ish-ness. It is a ‘being there’ for another person’s story. Ultimately that is my journey’s lesson. For instance, the ‘pic’ of the bug on the needle in front of the gold gilded library for the learned, begs for the learned ‘to listen’ to the needs voiced by the not so fortunate longing that the knowledge of the learned be used for the common good and not for the bonds that come with the self-gratification of academia. The pic of the magnificent city hall, begs the occasional tourist ‘to listen’ to the stories of the 236 statues that serve as its edifice and more deeply to the stories of the culture that created it. The research that I completed concluded that in a pluralistic democratic society the majority needs ‘to listen’ to the stories that voice the pain of its minorities. If it silences those voices, it soon becomes neither pluralistic nor democratic.

Much more could be said but instead it can be summed up in my ‘final pic,’ a picture of me offering an invitation to the arguably best chocolate on earth, Leonidas. It is a metaphorical Belgian semi-sweet dark chocolate with the burst of vanilla liqueur within that invites others to hear the lesson-that is the point in hand-with which I have returned, “listen.” Perhaps it might make a good New Year’s resolution.

When all is said and done!

"When all is said and done, did I live my life for the Lord." The song is sung in my mind as my short priviledge to return to the land where I left in resigned retreat almost to date some twelve years ago. Today's departure is different. The loose ends are tied, the ministry fufilled-and beyond, friendships have been re-affirmed, broken realtionships repaired, unfinished business-finished, and the privildge of living the life of a European scholar now comes to an end. How fitting to be able to give a fare-thee-well sermon on the subject of peace this advent. That is His 'shalom' that surrounds me in a short epoch of incredible blessing. It is time to pack up my rocking chair and return to the parallel universe of Camas, WA. What a long strange trip its been. http://www.gracepointfellowship.org/resources/sermons/2008/12/04/storied-peace-revelation-2210-21

Devastations and Years Gone Bye

November 11, 2008 commemorated another observance of a post-World War I Leuven, Belgium in Western Europe. Posted on the reconstructed buildings were huge prints of the former destruction of war. Ruin and rubble of human lives were found everywhere. The darkness and warfare of the human heart were evident all about the city. It cannot but affect the psyche of a land overrrun with more than 30 wars in its long history.

Everthing is better now, right. Well, not if one looked at the sadness in the faces and the often cries of despair evident in the eyes of so many people. Yes, food and drink are plentiful and the outward edifice of lives rebuilt stand. The inner warfare for the souls of so many, however, still rage and the spiritual devastation of those caught in the vollies of the power struggles of darkness leave internal pictures of ruin no less severe than the ones portrayed on this day of 'weapons stilling.' Scripture promises an end to this war as well. My wonderment however is: "who will survive and a how will the message of liberation be brought?" Beyond these are the personal questions and the wondering if the the spiritual ruin from the warfare in our own psyche is recognizable from the edifice of outward beautifications.

Pax et bonum....jerome

The Sign From God ;-)

"We hear what we are trained to hear"

(As told in New York City) "Listen do you hear the cricket? With incredulity the response came. How can you hear a cricket with the noise from this mass of people surrounding us? He dropped a quarter on the sidewalk , and immediately a swarm of passersby stopped and looked." We hear what we are trained to hear.

So the 'sign from God'...it was right out my door lit up and to its left was the chapel. Every time I opened the door there it was...Luister...it means "listen". I had no clue that silence was the nucleus around which the rest of the community rules of the Benedictines lived in order that they might hear the still small voice of God. I had no idea where I was at spiritually, though I thought I knew. I was wrong, the bus driver was wrong...something did stop at the Abby...frivolous, thougthless, noisey, sin-filled talk. I had just entered an alternate universe, a parallel reality to texting, cell phones, loud music, TV, DVDs, e-mails, youtube, car alarms, barking dogs, boisterous drunks, coarse jesting, jabber, campaigners etc. I had just entered 48 hours of silence where the only words spoken were the words of psalms and hymns chanted in Latin and Dutch in antiphony. A prayer was breathed, a short Scripture recited and then silence. Everytime I opened my door to attend one of the orders of the day...there it was all lit up in my face..."Listen." More as I - a many worded Jerome - reflect and decompress later...pax et bonum...jerome

The Servant's Entrance

There weren't many people out on the farmlands in the pouring rain but I did meet a farmer who figured out my strange Dutch enough to reply in some kind of east Flanders' dialect and sent me on a 3 Km. walk. After having some doubts circumambulating (cool word uhh), the Abby wall with occasional old WWII machine gun turrets, I found an entrance designated "servant's entrance." So I tucked my hair up under my hat and went in to ask why, only to meet Moses on they way. He spoke only a few words which will turn out to be about most that I was about to hear in private for the next 48 hours. Moses pointed down a path between, you almost guest it, a wall of bricks (not water). So, the short epoch beyond my box of universe had begun with me having a strange urgent desire to go back to Egypt. It was to late, I had gone to far and found my self being led up to my room without a word being said and then oi vay...a sign from God.

The Way In

The bus driver said I needed to get out at the cross point in the middle of somewhere because nothing stops where I was going. He was really wrong. I got out in a place where I have never been before. Sometimes it is hard to know where you are going when you really don't know where you are. For me I thought I pretty much knew where I was but I was soon to find out I was as wrong as the bus driver.

Black and White in the Gray World of Belgium

Pastor Seth Now from Then

"In the recent past white faces came with black Bibles bearing the Good News. Now black faces come with white Bibles doing the same" (Galatians 3:28). These were the words that began our international church service spoken by a visiting Arab pastor. As I looked around and I listened to English, the borrowed lingua franca, I quickly saw the point of his morning message. In the Kingdom of God loneliness is only for the making because brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers surround us everywhere (Matthew 12:48-50). This day Morrocans, Syrians, Egyptians, Iraqs, and Algerians lead worship. In front of me were Nigerians and Indonesians. To my right were Chinese and to my left Dutch and Germans. Well yes, I looked for another American amidst the 150 or more people and found two others. We sang of 'Harayana Yessu'(Jesus released me-Arabic), 'tis so sweet to trust in Jesus', heard testimonies of where Jesus met devote Muslims feeling so distant from God yet seeking God's closeness, soon found a breaking in of his mercy and assuring love. Tears did stream over my cheeks as this once small church now much larger continued to exude the glimpse of 'living symbol for the boundariless praise disclosed in Revelation 5:9. How I long for that day...pax et bonum...jerome

Bitter Sweet

This week I decided to up the ante on semi sweet dark chocolate switching from 72% Leonidas to 85% Godiva. The experience was bitter sweet and much like ethics and theology in the land. I was shocked to find that non terminal folks can get euthanized in Belgium, if they find life giving a mental suffering that they choose no longer to bear.

It also seems that health care professions like mine , pharmacy, have few if any Christians populating the upcoming graduates. Most striking theology seems to be groping for a God that's understandable by the people.

Sweet are the churches both Roman Catholic and Evangelical that though small in number seem to be inhabited by those seeking God. Surprising are the philosophers who now grapple with the God of mystery and yet the God who 'saturates' His creation with love.

It seems that much remains a paradox of bitter sweet in a land full of surprises. By the way 72 % dark Leonidas is still the king according to my palate.

Looking through My Window

Yesterday was a long awaited answer to prayer and an unexpected eye-opener from God. I have waited 12 years for the re-acquaintance with a beloved brother in Christ. The last time we said good-bye his pastorate vanished and along with his regular job. For me, I lost my visa rights to be in the country and had to leave immediately. It was a painful parting. His wife knew I was in town and arranged a surprise meeting. As I stood in his presence donned in my pancake-frenchie hat, he looked at me with a bewildered face. With no beard, apparently my signature in this country as told to me by many, I appeared as a stranger unrecognizable. The I spoke familiar words: "I am still a Jesus Freak whose freak are you?" He immediatley recognized the voice and the words and with tears streaming down his cheeks crushed me with his large Ukranian coal miners hug. On my long bus trip back I was struck by another Johanine Blue Bolt. John 10:4 "When he puts forth all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice." It struck me that when Jesus reappears, we may not recognize Him just like the women at the tomb did not recognize His transformed state, but we will know His voice, if we have been attentive in hearing it throughout our life. Just like the voice of a friend from long ago. A view through my window of life yesterday. Pax et bonum...jerome

Do you really want to know?

"Wise is the one who wants to know where Abraham got the mustard"

Here stands one of my favorite quotes that sits a the bottom of a statue. So, I thought I would bring it to you along with a few other places of precious memory along with the Michener family who made my transition back into the culture soft and pleasant.

Your puzzle: Attach the numbered sentence to the place.

1. The building of statures depicting OT, NT, and Patriarchs
2. The Fonske
3. The city cafe where Grimbergen is found on draft
4. What to say in French when someone drops bad theology or other sin in front of you
5. Finally getting the point

On a Sanctfied Vision

While rummaging through academic encounters from the past and now again present, I still wonder how such informed thinkers in theological academia could be so clueless about the truths of God. Then I ran into the words from Augustine through a strange book clearly stated what I was trying to understand: "The mind should be cleansed so it is able to see divine light and cling to it once it is seen." The author O'Keefe who recounts this then says: "The eye of the reader can only follow Scriptures if vision is sanctified." But I say 'the eye of the reader sees the truth of Scripture uncovered only in as much as vision is sanctified.'

Monk Habits of Stability

Stability is not finding one's place their home, but rather, their home in One's place. Descending through the Belgium gray clouds to the see the red roofed tiles of the Belgium dakpannen to greet me, I know I was entering a place that had once been home. All was perfect from the send off of my spouse, to the flight, to the arrival, and all that I brought with me (spirit, emotion, and thought).

Then the blessings of a way in His path only got better as the profundity of Luke 14:26 made itself evident in the first to greet me,the beloved Familie Michener. Treated like one of the nobility of Christ I even was granted my hearts desire. Besides the kindred spirit, the spirit of Grimbergen and fresh hot fritjes with mayonnaise. Life is good and eternal life better.

Senator Mc Cain and Govenor Palin

Oy vay...Does anyone know how to get a residency in Costa Rica? This election is an ethics classic of graded consequentialism. Can't be an Obot for reasons below, so well you probably guessed it. Now on to other spiritual reflections.

Senator Obama - one Christian's Perspective

If you are voting for Senator Obama because of his skin color, how are you not racist? If you are voting against Senator Obama because of his skin color, how are you not racist? The same question applies to Mc Cain but doesn't grab the attention of my friends of color with the gravity of the reconciliation they promote. That being said let me be blunt and rather than writing me off with a knee jerk reaction, I only ask you to weigh it with due regard.

There are three reasons why a believing Christian needs to question their support of Senator Obama for president or for any other place of public leadership. This first one is most grave because if a person can lie without conscience, there is no other sin s/he can do and not hide or explain away!

1 - He has a habit of lying and is unrepentant when caught. Christians and non Christians lie and maybe even do so habitually. The question is what to they do with it when caught and confronted. Senator Obama's habit of lying is so ingrained that it appears that he is convinced at times that he is telling the truth even when it is pointed out to him that his words were untrue. Four examples suffice.

One, while speaking to the press in the Israeli town of Sderot in July ,at Obama said, "Just this past -- this past week, we passed out of the U.S. Senate Banking Committee, which is my committee, a bill to call for divestment from Iran as a way of ratcheting up the pressure to ensure that they don't obtain a nuclear weapon." To quote the retort "Not only is it not his committee, but he's not even on the committee, he didn't vote on the bill, and he had nothing to do with it's passage." I've read the context spin, the what I meant spin, and nuance, give me a break he made it up.

Two, Senator Obama opposed 'Born Alive' protection legislation both state and federal and when caughht at it called National Right to Life liars about his position. The respondse from NRTL: "In his short interview with David Brody, Obama tripled his bet on that proposition by calling us liars. He also relied on diversionary verbal smokescreens, but without directly addressing the newly discovered 2003 documentation that proves the falsity of his account.

We now challenge Obama to either declare the two 2003 legislative documents to be forgeries and call for an official investigation, or else apologize for his four years of misrepresentation on the issue of babies who are born alive during abortions - and for calling us liars." My point is that my research into Senator Obama's record clearly shows that he does support post abortion live birth infanticide, and rather than deceive the public using campaign dupes to try to hide it, just admit it and let the poeple decide of they can tolerate the position or not.

Three, for whatever strange reason Senator Obama appealed to his allegiance to the US military by asserting He signed up for the selective service. He stated "You know, I had to sign up for Selective Service when I graduated from high school. .... But keep in mind: I graduated in 1979."

1. Selective Service Registration was not possible in 1979.
2. Bob Owens at Pajamas Media noted that Obama registered with the Selective Service with an effective date of September 4, 1980.

So what, I agree that maybe it was just a conflation of dates so by itself, it gets a pass but in the context of his penchent to distort truth and call it reality, I am concerned.

Fourth, much to do about Senator Obama's association with unrepentant terrorist William Ayers, once part of the violent Weather Underground group. has come to for. Obama has responded saying: Ayers is “a guy who lives in my neighborhood” and not someone who has endorsed him or talked to him regularly.

“And the notion that somehow as a consequence of me knowing somebody who engaged in detestable acts 40 years ago when I was 8 years old, somehow reflects on me and my values, doesn’t make much sense.” It makes sense except that Ayers hosted Obama's launch for the Senate in Illinois politics and "both men served together on the board of the Woods Fund, a Chicago-based charity that develops community groups to help the poor." Obama and Ayers both attended some 1995 board meetings of the Chicago Annenberg Challenge, which Ayers was instrumental in starting and Obama chaired in the 1990s.

"In the fall of 1995 Barack Obama began his first electoral campaign to replace State Senator Alice Palmer who was attempting to run for Congress. Palmer accompanied Obama to the Hyde Park home of Bill Ayers and Bernardine Dohrn for an introduction of Obama to the Hyde Park left."

Although the Senator does not see the truth in the assertion for his context now, I suggest such denial is flat out deception of himself and the public.

Finally, Some other observations, he is not his own man. He conveniently throws persons and principles under the bus when inconvenient to him (i.e. Pastor Wright and demolition of Chicago South Side housing projects). He "was made by political power broker Emil Jones" who had legislation like that of Rickey Hendon (see Willamete Week v. 34/18) ripped out of his hands and given to Obama for the credit, and in return Jones' projects got millions of dollars of earmarks from Obama. His starched white shirt with rolled up sleeves is not him but his make over by leftists socialist campaign manager

2-He does not represent even the basics of kingdom values:

First, he supports abortion even in late term and infanticide when babies are born alive.

Second, he supports gay marriage although spins it as civil union, that when becomes law, makes Christian tenets and preaching against such union as sinful, hate speech (i.e. see Canada as an example). Further gaydom will be taught as normal sexual expression at the earliest of ages in school without the counter arguments.

Third, he justifies his position from a low view of Scripture suggesting some is God's word and other parts are men's ideas only. This permits a picking and choosing of texts to one's own moral constructions, not a radical transformation by Spirit.

Bottom Line: "The supporters of pragmaticism very readily accept the useful lie as truth." (Berdyaev: Truth and Revelation) Sadly, Senator Obama has charted the path of pragmatism, not his Christian verbal profession, as his habit and method to the presidency. The danger is that should he get the Christian conscience, he will no longer be useful to those who made him. That would spell doom and death, just like Trotsky found at he the wrong end of a pick ax. My fear is that Senator Obama may well have the scintilla anima within spelling his end should it ever be enlivened by the Spirit's filling. If no filling then a worse fate. That would be despair for his family and all who love those who love Christ. For Senator Obama's sake, his family, and our country, may he be spared the presidency.

On Fear of Death

To fear losing that which I must inevitably lose anyway is a strange waste of time. Better to rejoice in that which I have begun to gain and inevitably will realize in full.

Meditation and Contemplation

"The purpose of a book of meditations is to teach you how to think and not to do your thinking for you." Merton - New Seeds of Contemplation

There it is again, a truth and discipline I had forgotten. When coming to any book the reader needs sensitivity toward the Spirit's moving and particularly to know the moment to leave the book and move where the Spirit is wishing to take the emerging thought. There life's exteriority is detached from and awareness of God-speak is dis-closed. Life is to short for such bliss during the amusement of the American dream-world. Composing this little reflection is painful hypocrisy in itself so I shall cease and return with many of you to the mundane. However, contemplation will have had begun if I grow tired of the world's monotony, hell, and quickly revisit this thought. How about you?

Summer Vacations from God

Family relationships forged solely on earthly wants are a waste of eternal time. The first seems to be the lifestyle of the pagan outside of the body of Christ as expected. What is the shocker, is that this waste of time seems to have so suffused the USA church, that little difference can be discerned between the two groups. Lives centered around activities of self or self through child, wholly divorced from the believing community, inculcates a narcisism rather than Christ-like virtue. The gathering of the believing community becomes tertiary, boring, or a painful exercise lacking excitement found in the 'Halo' about the culture. No wonder, we as adults seem to have taught the young through our own self-indulgence. Save His grace, what consequences that come home to roost will not fill any particpant with the 'shalom' intended in this world or the next.

Saving faith

God blesses the disciple who does not reject belief in Jesus over what He chooses to do or over what He chooses to leave undone. I am certainly thankful that Jesus chose to give us the freedom to choose grace or sin and then that His mercy extends to forgiveness when we choose sinful habits even beyond that of the woman who wiped Jesus' feet with her hair. Otherwise, what hope would any of us have?

Paradoxes of beginning

And so, but of course "and so," since any beginning is but a course change in the stream or maybe not even that. For me it is a strange call back to where I once was yet there is no back only forward. That place physically is Belgium, that place spiritually is obedience, and that place emotionally is guarded curiosity.

The die is cast, the plane ticket purchased, and now the spiritual, mental, and physical preparations must be made. But made for what? Well at the very least the Erasmus Mundus privilege afforded by the kind to the undeserving. For the rest I leave another reflection, as the musing of something like a beginning has begun.