Hundred Mark

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  One Hundred Mark

I never realized that when I started writing the Mangy Moose blog that it would reach one hundred posts. I started blogging as a way to get people off my back that wanted me to write a book. I have several friends who have gone through the difficult and time consuming process of bringing a book to publication. Although I admire those who write books, I have no desire to do so; thus my blog.

At first I purposed to share stories from my life that readers might find interesting if not entertaining. Having shared the story of my life journey from growing up in a large family to studying for the priesthood to serving in various church denominations, I have written some blogs that are my personal views of church life as a pastor and as an observer of life in general.

My greatest and most loyal readers are my family: my siblings and my children. They regularly comment pro and con to what I have to share. Friends from the past as well as those who have earned the right to speak into my life keep me an honest writer of blogs. I appreciate all who read the Monday morning Mangy Moose.

The most amazing thing about blogs is that once they are published on the Internet they go worldwide. I have an app that logs the number of daily hits I get. It also tells me where hits come from. I am shocked that people from the United Kingdom, Australia, Finland, Sweden, France, Morocco, Spain, Indonesia, Canada, Germany, Poland, and God knows where read my blog. I hope I am not starting a worldwide conspiracy!

I am reminded of a Bible passage that talks about writing things down. Although the context of these verses pertains to an Old Testament prophesy, I paraphrase it because I am reminded to write it not just think about it. “Write what you see, write it out in big box letters so that it can be read on the run. This vision message is a witness pointing to what's coming. It aches for the coming; it can hardly wait! And it doesn't lie. If it seems slow in coming, wait. It's on the way. It will come at the right time.”

People Who Need People

People Who Need People

It was 1964 when Barbara Streisand sang the hit song People Who Need People as part of the Broadway play Funny Girl. The first verse goes like this: “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world. We're children needing other children, and yet letting a grown-up pride hide all the need inside; acting more like children than children.”

As I listened to the news last week, I heard Barbara make a public statement that if Donald Trump was elected President, she would move to Australia or Canada. Several days later I heard TV personality Sean Hannity comment that he would personally buy Barbara and her liberal friends a one way ticket out of the country. I am not sure who is more childish.

American politics has taken a turn for the worse this election year. Not only have the candidates themselves taken the lower road of personal slurs and character assassinations but the public media has jumped into the mud fight as well. Our politics has always had a perchance for the unseemly. You would think that with all the national and international issues we are facing the level of common discourse would be of a higher quality.

The reason I was reminded of Barbara’s song is that there is truth in those words that people who need people are the luckiest people. Those things that separate people are the very issues that become the foundation for prejudice, hatred, and civil discord. I saw this quote on Facebook: “The worst distance between two people is misunderstanding.” Therein lies the truth.

It is my conviction that when people who don't get their way and pick up their marbles and go home are acting like spoiled children who have no need for other people. How sad it is when adults insist on acting like children.

Up North

Up North

It's a long drive from Bozeman to Minneapolis. It can be done in a day but it takes stamina to make the 930 mile, 14 hour drive with four adults and three grandchildren. We made the trip in late August to attend two family reunions and a four-day vacation at a cabin up north.

You have to be a Minnesota native to understand “up north.”  It is not simply a direction on a compass. It is a mindset that says when Friday comes, it's time to head north to one of those 10,000 lakes and kick back for a weekend of fun. Lakeshores lined with cabins and docks sticking their long fingers into tranquil waters; the call of the loons beckoning one to leave the cares of the world behind and enjoy life.

This was the fourth time in less than a year that our family got together. The cabin we rented was more than adequate for eleven people. Nestled in a forest of Norway Pines, we savored access to a sand beach, a fishing dock, two kayaks, a pontoon boat and lots of beach toys. What more could you ask for up north.

August in Minnesota is known for its heat, humidity and mosquitos. We had nice everything. Warm days and cool nights kept us happy campers.

Small resort towns offer an ambiance you can't find in the big cities. We bought coffee, sweet rolls and candy at the gas station; cold cuts and cheese at the meat market, butter and bread at the small grocery store; and fish bait at the liquor store. The Log Cabin Bar and The Pickled Loon were for fine dining.

Family time is the best time with uninterrupted hours of shared lives. No pretense of having to be someone else or somewhere else. Michael J. Fox said it best: “Family is not an important thing, it's everything.” That’s Up North!

En Theos

En Theos

One advantage of a Classical education is that I know a little Latin and Greek. This was a prerequisite in seminary and I struggled through it.  I even spent one summer school session at a monastery to get proficient. Although I don't use the languages any more they do come in handy when reading inscriptions on public buildings.

The phrase “en Theos” literally means “in God.” This Greek phrase is the root of our English word “enthusiasm”. Webster’s Dictionary defines enthusiasm as “a strong excitement about something; a belief in special revelation of the Holy Spirit.” From its root, enthusiasm literally means, “filled with God.”

Living at a time when evolution is taught as truth rather than theory, it is difficult to grasp that anything is filled with God. Now that our culture has successfully removed God from public life and relegated him to private devotion and Sunday church, any sense of God attachment to the real world is not politically correct. The explanation that everything and everyone evolved through the survival of the fittest leaves no room for the grandeur of God.

I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world. People come from all over to see the majestic mountains, the fertile valleys and the teeming wildlife. Although there is great respect for the magnificence of nature, there is little recognition of its creator. All the credit is given to the complex evolving of a natural order. It seems that mankind is filled with itself and there is no room for the Other.

The Bible presents creation quite differently. Although Genesis 1-3 is often considered a myth, the biblical truth is that there is a creator who made it all and he did a mighty fine job of it. I like what the prophet Isaiah says: “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of His glory.”

The whole earth is filled with God. Can you see it?

Ed

Ed

We first met at the St. Paul Seminary in the fall of 1966. I was starting my second year of theology and Ed just arrived from Helena, Montana to start his first year. Together we were studying for the priesthood. Little did I know that how our lives would intertwine over the coming years.

 I was ordained in 1970 and lost contact with Ed. He had one more year of seminary before moving back to Montana. I was busy learning the ropes of pastoral life in a parish. From time to time I would hear how Ed was doing but we had lost touch. On a snowy evening in late 1976 Ed appeared at the door of the lodge Judy and I were running in the Bridger Mountains north of Bozeman. He heard that I had left the priesthood, married and moved to Montana.

Ed had left the priesthood and was working in Bozeman. We were able to spend time together during those years. I met his fiancée, Deborah and officiated at there wedding. As time went on and Judy and I moved back and forth between Minnesota and Montana, Ed and I purposed to stay in touch.

It came as a shock when I heard Ed was in the hospital. He wasn’t feeling well and ended up in the ER where he was diagnosed with pneumonia. The antibiotics didn't help and within two days his kidneys shut down and he died. I could not believe it. My good friend of forty-five years was gone. He was my link to those seminary years. We would periodically have lunch at the country club and reminisce of those days and share the latest gossip about classmates and the state of the church.

This has been a year of loss for me. Good friends and mentors have gone on to be with the Lord. Ed was a special friend. He was not just a part of my past; he was a Renaissance man. He was a gifted painter, preacher, counselor, conversationalist and healer. He told stories like Garrison Keller and he was a compassionate hospital chaplain. He was flawed like the rest of us but he was a unique. I miss him much.

Requiescat In Pace Ed.

Egos And Logos

Egos And Logos

Pastor John and I get together for coffee every couple of weeks. We meet in one of the many coffee places that have sprung up in Bozeman. We visit about our families, our churches and the general state of the world. Both of us have been pastors for a long time. For us there is not much new under the sun.

Several weeks ago, we were conversing over coffee, when I noticed a man by himself over in the corner. I could tell by the Bible next to him that he was a pastor working on his Sunday sermon. When John and I were leaving, I walked over and introduced myself. Sure enough he was a pastor of a church in town. After chatting for a few minutes, he mentioned that there was a pastor’s prayer meeting early on Tuesday mornings and encouraged us to come. It was what he said next that caught my attention. “We leave our egos and our logos at the door and focus on praying for our city.”

Egos speak of our personal identity. Unfortunately the church is not exempt from its leaders flexing their egos to attract attention. Over my years of ministry I have seen my fair share of inflated religious egos bite the dust and bring disgrace upon the church. Logos speak of corporate identity. It is the temptation of churches to inflate their importance and visibility by taking on the marketing strategies of the business world.

I believe what the invitation to the prayer meeting implied was leave your agenda at the door. I have participated in a lot of prayer meetings. Some of those gatherings were no more than an opportunity for pastors to flaunt their personal agendas. Under the guise of prayer most of the time was taken up in talk with only a few remaining minutes to beseech the Lord. No wonder the Church has lost much of its impact on our culture.

Back in the days of the Charismatic Renewal, we sang a worship song that had this refrain: “So forget about yourself and concentrate on Him, and worship Him, Christ the Lord.” I haven't attended that prayer meeting yet but I will soon. I plan to leave my Ego and my Logo at the door!

Birthdays

Birthdays

I remember my Grandmother saying, “When you get as old as I am, birthdays don't mean much anymore.” She said that when she was in her late 80’s. I am beginning to understand what she meant. The older I get the less important the actual event becomes. Some may think different.

I write this shortly before my 72^nd birthday but not publishing this blog until later. Why? Because I am kind of a private person and all those “Happy Birthday” greetings on Facebook scare me. Everybody knows that I am getting old so why remind me. Actually I do like to privately celebrate my birthday with family around. I like my grandkids birthdays the best. They are young enough to enjoy the magic. The anticipation of a party with gifts, cake and lots of attention are an affirmation of life and love.

Judy and I were married on my birthday. That was 41 years ago. I remember the argument we had about whether this was a good idea (not getting married but doing so on my birthday). The plus for me was that I would never forget our anniversary even if it was often overshadowed by my birthday. So at this advanced age, I am shifting my attention from birthday to anniversary; the more of those the better.

I conclude with a birthday song that I heard as a child on the Lunch with Casey Jones TV show back in the ‘50s. It still comes to me every August 2^nd: “Happy, Happy birthday to every girl and boy. Hope this very special day brings you lots of joy. Hope the birthday presents you get from Mom and Dad will make this very special day the best you ever had.”

Happy Birthday to me!