god-of-small-things

2009-01-07T07:43:00.000-08:00

Neale Donald Walsch thought he was talking to God.

Oops.

2007-07-23T09:34:00.001-07:00

The Boy Who Lived

Christianity Today just posted my review of the Deathly Hallows .

2007-01-20T10:14:00.000-08:00

The Kindness of Strangers

There's been some good news since the last time I posted. On December 6, my niece, Connie Marie Smietana, came home from the Philippines. A bittersweet moment, as my brother wasn't with her. But she's home, and I hope he is smiling somewhere.

We ran this essay about my brother in the January issue of the Covenant Companion. There are few things, if any, more powerful than the kindness of strangers.

The Kindness of Strangers
Bob Smietana
The Covenant Companion
January 2007

In the year that King Uzziah died, the prophet Isaiah saw the Lord
high and lifted up, sitting on a throne, surrounded by angels
calling out,Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth
is full of his glory” (Isaiah 6:3).

In the year that my brother died, I also saw the Lord.

Not high and lifted up, but in dozens of small and ordinary ways,
like the platterof chicken salad sandwiches, made by the women of
the church I grew upin, the Evangelical Covenant Church of
Attleboro, Massachusetts, and served after my brother’s
funeral in early November.

The angels from Isaiah tells us that the whole world is filled with
God’s glory. The writer of “Joy to the World” tells us that Jesus
came to make his blessing flow “far as the curse is found.”

This past fall the curse of sorrow struck my family down at what
should have been one of the happiest moments of our lives.

My younger brother, Paul, and his wife, Chit (short for Chitadelia),
were in the Philippines, finalizing the adoption of their
twenty-month-old daughter Connie Marie. The Philippine
government had approved the adoption months earlier, and finally
Paul and Chit had received approval from the Immigration and
Naturalization Service (INS) to bring Connie Marie home.

All they needed was a visa, which should have been routine with
INS approval in hand. But red tape abounds when dealing with
adoption, and there were more delays.

Early on the morning of October 22, Chit went to the market,
while Paul went for a run. When he didn’t return, Chit and
her family went looking for him, and found his body by the
side of the road. In the flash of a moment my brother was
gone, a couple months shy of his fortieth
birthday.

In the days and weeks following my brother’s death, my family
has seen the Lord’s glory and blessing time and again.
We often talk about the body of Christ as if it were a quaint
expression, a bit of religious jargon for the church.

But we saw the Lord and felt God’s care through the hands
and voices of other Christians. They became the body of
Christ and surrounded us with God’s love.

I’ve been overwhelmed by how many people have made our
grief their business. Less than an hour after my parents
received the haunting call from Chit, and had finally sifted
through the tears and pain in her voice and realized the
awful truth, their church sprang into action.

That call had come at about four in the morning. By six
their pastor, Kent Palmquist, came to the house and prayed
with them. Dozens of people brought food, or came to the
house just to sit with my parents and talk with them.
They demonstrated the reality of Christ’s love through
concrete means—hugs and prayers; platters of chicken salad
sandwiches, calzones, and cranberry squares; cards and
phone calls and flowers.

At Covenant Offices(my workplace), colleagues prayed for us
and picked up the pieces left behind when I took off for the
East Coast to be with my parents. The pastors of Libertyville
Covenant Church, Dwight Nelson and Brian Zahasky, prayed with me
and shared my tears. Friends brought meals. My friend Chris Becker
walked in and gave me a hug on the morning we found out Paul had
died. No words were necessary to communicate how he felt.
Other friends cashed in their frequent flier miles and sent my
wife, kids, and me out East for the funeral.

If the angels are right, and the whole world is filled with God’s
glory, then all these acts of kindness are holy. They are
sanctified with God’s presence—transformed from the ordinary
and commonplace into expressions of grace. And God’s blessings
are known far as the curse is found. Grace fills every moment.

My brother understood, in the way he lived from day to day,
how God cared about the small things.

Paul had not been one to talk about himself much and we lived a
thousand miles apart, so there was much about each other’s daily
lives that we never shared. But here’s something I learned after
Paul was gone.

When they left for the Philippines in mid-October, Paul and Chit
took one small suitcase to share between them. The rest of their
luggage allowance was taken up with three large boxes of
clothing and shoes for the children of Quinaoayanan, the small
village in the province of Pangasinan where Chit grew up.

Paul told my dad that when he arrived in the Philippines for
the first time, a decade ago, he noticed how poor the children
were. Many of the children in Quinaoayanan had worn or tattered
clothing, and few had shoes. For entertainment, they rolled a
can filled with stones down a dirt road.

So Paul, who never had to be asked to lend a hand, began doing
what he could to make life a little bit better for the children
in Quinaoayanan. He rented a truck and took many of the
village’s children to the beach. He organized a pig roast and
an impromptu picnic for the whole village, complete with
three-legged races and prizes for the kids.

A big kid himself, Paul was in the middle of the races, like the
ringmaster of a circus. Upon his return home, he and Chitadelia sent
care packages filled with clothes and shoes.

When he learned that Chit’s parents’ house didn’t have
running water, he paid to have it installed. When he passed
an elderly woman in the street selling fruit to make a little bit
of money, he bought everything she had so she could go home and
get out of the 100-degree heat. During many of his visits, parents
in the village would ask him to be a godparent to their child,
and he never said no.

If Paul saw that something needed to be done, he did it. He didn’t
have to be asked. One of Paul’s friends said that if you met him once,
you had a friend for life. And the children of Quinaoayanan had a
friend for life in Paul. None of us could have imagined how short
that life would be.

My brother was not a saint.

He wasn’t Mother Teresa with a tool belt.

He was an ordinary guy, who was more often found on his bass boat
on Sunday mornings than in the pew. He didn’t spend his entire
life alleviating poverty or feeding the hungry or clothing the naked.
He didn’t set out to save the world.

But most of the time, he got the small things right.

When he saw something that needed to be done, he got busy.
Not all the time; not perfectly; but he did not wait to be
asked. He didn’t pass by on the other side and pretend the problem
was somebody else’s business. He made it his business.

More than 400 people came to Paul’s wake, and the church was full
at his funeral, filled with people whose lives he had touched.
Every one of them had a story to tell. One of his fishing buddies
told me that this past fall Paul had learned about a national
guardsman coming home from Iraq who had a love for fishing.
Paul went out and bought a small trolling motor for the soldier.
They had never met, but Paul wanted in some small way to say
thank you to that soldier for his service in Iraq.

“That’s the kind of guy your brother was,” his friend told me.

Toward the end of her book, "Righteous: Dispatches from the
EvangelicalYouth Movement," author Lauren Sandler experiences
a revelation during a visit to a megachurch in Colorado.

Though she vehemently disagrees with the politics and social
positions of church members, she allows members of a small Bible
study to pray for her. The group asks God to bless Sandler’s book
and her travels. That small act transforms the way Sandler sees
evangelical Christians.

Afterwards, she writes that the small group convinced her “that
they are capable of translating Jesus’s legacy of agape into
their everyday lives.”

“Tonight,” she adds, “they have demonstrated the simple concept
that powers and sustains this movement: they have shown me
the kindness of strangers.”

Thirty years ago my family came to the Covenant church as
strangers; curious to find out more about God but suspicious
of church people. My dad, in particular, wanted nothing to
do with what he called “a bunch of holy rollers.”

Still we came to church, not because of a revival or outreach,
but because of a simple invitation. My brother’s friend Joey Clark
asked Paul to go to a Sunday-school picnic with him, and before
long, the friendship and kindness shown to our family had won us
over. More than programs or music or preaching, the kindness shown
to us when we were strangers made us part of the body of Christ.

Paul carried the lessons he learned at the Covenant church
wherever he went. He was generous by nature, and his experience
at church transformed his natural kindness into a lifetime of
giving. He took those lesson with him to Egypt, where he worked
for several years; across the United States, where he traveled
for a time, setting up cellular networks; and eventually he took
them to the Philippines.

Not long after my brother’s funeral, my dad received a letter
from one of Paul’s former tenants. In his late twenties,
my brother bought a triple decker apartment building that
was a handyman’s special. He fixed it up then sold it
a few years later.

The former tenant was an older man who had several physical
disabilities. The man told about how Paul had befriended
him—how he had installed an additional railing to make it
easier for him to get up the stairs; how, knowing he was on
a fixed income, Paul never raised his rent; and how Paul would
visit with him, listen to his stories, and leave him smiling
with a joke.

No fuss, no fanfare. Just a joke and a smile and a helping hand.
And the whole earth is filled with the glory of God.

(Copyright Covenant Communications, 2007. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)

2006-12-02T19:50:00.000-08:00

God in the Ordinary Parts of Life

This review of GP Taylor: Sin, Salvation, and Shadowmancer, ran in the recent issue of the Covenant Companion, by Daniel deRoulet, a fine writer who teaches at Vanguard University.

The section, I think, really gets to the heart of the book:

In our fifteen-minutes-of-fame society, we put people on pedestals. But
who can’t be perfect for fifteen minutes? And then we find ourselves
disappointed and disillusioned when the sports star, politician, or
even Christian celebrity is only made of dust.

Sin, Salvation and Shadowmancer reminds us of how the whole journey
goes.

Here's the whole thing:

What in the world could be considered “ordinary” about the life of G.P.
Taylor, priest and fantasy writer, policeman and rock-and-roll groupie,
who almost drowned as a child and as an adult was nearly beaten to
death by a mob? The answer is in the way that Taylor and Bob Smietana
collaborate to tell the story, and in the surprising effect on the
reader.

One of the difficulties of reading about the lives of people of faith
is that we tend to encounter a series of highlights—a saint’s “greatest
hits” if you will. We see a condensed life of Jacob, Joseph, or Paul’s
encounters with God, but we don’t see the vast majority of ordinary
time that makes up any human life. Oftentimes when I read Christian
biographies, I am left with the thought that I live too ordinary a
life. This can spur me on to good works, but it can also leave me
feeling a little inadequate.

The beauty of Taylor and Smietana’s presentation of an exemplary
Christian life is that the truly extraordinary moments are always
grounded in the ordinary. At the end of the book, Taylor assesses his
life this way:

“Am I perfect? No. Better than you? No. More valued in God’s sight? No.
I am just a child of Adam in need of God’s love....I still lie, cheat,
murder and fall—every day. I am still bad-tempered, moody and
depressed. But God’s grace picks me up and helps me try to be the man
he created. There is still a long way to go.

“Even in the darkest night of the soul, I am enjoying the journey.”
In our fifteen-minutes-of-fame society, we put people on pedestals. But
who can’t be perfect for fifteen minutes? And then we find ourselves
disappointed and disillusioned when the sports star, politician, or
even Christian celebrity is only made of dust.

Sin, Salvation and Shadowmancer reminds us of how the whole journey
goes. And despite the extraordinary moments of Taylor’s life, I relate
to him as an ordinary brother—someone I understand and am drawn to pray
for.

2006-11-14T15:47:00.000-08:00

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dush

We laid my brother Paul to rest this past weekend, on a bright and clear Saturday morning. More than 400 people had come to his wake the night before, and the church was packed for his funeral.

That morning, the Boston Globe ran a long obituary that gives a glimpse of Paul's life, and the grace we experienced by having him in our lives.

Every small act of faithfulness can open up space for God in the world, our pastor once said. Paul specialized in those kind of small acts. He did not have to be asked to lend a hand--he did it naturally. More than anyone I know, Paul knew how to live--no regrets, no equivocating. He knew what he wanted and he got busy doing it.

2006-11-04T10:48:00.000-08:00

Saying Goodbye

My brother Paul's funeral will be held November 11, (a week from today) at the Evangelical Covenant Church in Attleboro, Massachusetts, with visitation on Friday night at the Dyer-Lake Funeral Home

A memorial fund has been set up to benefit the children of Quinaonayanan, Philippines, where Paul's wife Chitadelia's family lives. Memorial donations may be made to the Paul T. Smietana Memorial Fund, c/o Evangelical Covenant Church, 841 North Main Street – PO Box 208, Attleboro, MA 02703.

An obituary ran today in several newspapers.

Here's what I wrote for our magazine:

Paul Smietana, a longtime member of the Evangelical Covenant Church in Attleboro, Massachusetts and brother of Companion features editor Bob Smietana, died October 22. He was 39.

He was born Christmas Day, 1966, the fourth of five children born to Ted and Barbara Smietana of Attleboro. As a junior high student, he visited the Attleboro Covenant church at the invitation of schoolmate, and before long, the whole family was part of the congregation.

After graduating from Attleboro High School and New Hampshire Vocational Technical College, he began a career as an electrician. Then in the early 1990s, he accepted a job offer that changed his life—as a technician for GTE, installing telecommunications equipment in Egypt. He spent several years living near Cairo and traveling with the Egyptian military, helping set up a cell phone network, and learning Arabic. While there, he met Chitadelia Badoin, a young woman from the Philippines who worked for the US Embassy. They returned to the United States and were married in February 1994.

After leaving GTE, he set up his own successful communications business in New England. An avid fisherman, he competed in bass tournaments across the Eastern US and dreamt of becoming a professional bass fisherman. During a 2003 tournament to qualify for a national competition, he and his partner saved a stranded windsurfer that was suffering from hypothermia—an act that earned him a sportsman of the year award.

He and his wife traveled often to the Philippines, where Paul became godfather to many children among his wife’s family and friends. He was in Quinaonayanan, Philippines, at the time of his death.

A man of quiet and steady faith, he was known as a tireless volunteer and worker, always willing to lend a hand. By his bed, he kept a copy of the Bible, tattered by constant reading.

He was preceded in death by a brother, John Edward, who died in infancy. He is survived by his wife, Chitadelia; daughter Connie Marie; brothers Ted (Kathleen), Bob (Kathy), sister Kristen (Glenn) Rounseville; his wife’s parents: Efraim and Concepcion Badoin of the Philippines; sister-in-law: Charito (Edgar) Leaal of the Philippines; and many nieces and nephews.

A funeral will be held November 11 at the Evangelical Covenant Church of Attleboro, with Kent Palmquist officiating. Interment will be at North Purchase Cemetery.

Peace to his memory.

2006-10-22T09:31:00.000-07:00

A nightmare I can't wake up from

My dad call this morning with the news that my brother Paul is dead.

Just a few days ago, my brother Paul and his wife Chi left for the Philippines, in hopes they'd be home with their adopted daughter Connie Marie.

Yesterday, Paul was out jogging and collapsed. The details are sketchy --all we know is that he was found and taken to a hospital and died there. He would have been 40 on his next birthday, this coming Christmas.

Pray for us, if you can.

"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:38-39)

2006-10-18T17:43:00.000-07:00

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Talk about a series of unfortunate events. The Yorkshire Post reports on GP Taylor's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day:

First the tyre fell off the car he was riding in, while the car was traveling at 70 miles a hour--the car slid to a halt a few feet from the edge of the Avon Gorge.
the tow truck which picked up the wrecked car then caught on fire
a second tow truck then broke down when its gear linkage broke.

Hard to believe? Here's how the Post reported it:

"We were travelling about 70mph on the way back when it started to vibrate." Driver Sarah Hill, 32, then pulled off the motorway. "As we were going down the side of the carriageway the wheel came over our heads, overtaking a passing car and narrowly missing a pedestrian," Mr Taylor added.

"We crashed and were only 4ft away from plunging down the Avon Gorge."

The car was later placed on a recovery truck which burst into flames a mile down the M6, causing severe congestion.

All of this happened after he got some threatening emails.

2006-10-13T10:47:00.000-07:00

It's Alive

What happens when you take a retired mortician turned limo driver, a few cans of Red Bull, and a visit to the BBC on world book day? Click here to find out.

2006-10-10T19:57:00.000-07:00

Dreams and Nightmare

The Yorkshire Post has a piece on GP Taylor that mentions the book
(GP Taylor: Sin, Salvation and Shadowmancer, or "S,S,and S" as my lovely wife calls it).

The piece includes this summary of Graham's early life:

He was born to a working-class family in Scarborough.

As a child he was always searching for the meaning of life and flirted with the occult and witchcraft as possible explanations.

He turned his back on education and worked in a local nightspot before
heading to London.

There, Taylor admits, he didn't become a very nice person.

"I was promiscuous: I was a liar, a cheat and a drunk," he says in his
forthcoming autobiography, GP Taylor, Sin, Salvation and Shadowmancer.

Then one day, he says, God told him to go home and He would
find him a job and a wife.

Although he was not a Christian at that time, Taylor says the power of the voice was too strong to ignore and within the week he had packed his bags and returned home to Scarborough.

And this section, on how a stretch of illness change his view on life and death:

"My health problems have completely changed my life.
It has made me realise that every day is important and
how important it is to tell my children that I love them
every single day.

"My daughter Lydia helped me realise that my view of God was like
tunnel vision, now I realise he is everywhere."

2006-10-04T18:00:00.000-07:00

A Story on the Book

The Covenant Church website has a story and interview about GP Taylor: Sin, Salvation, and Shadowmancer. The most meaningful response, so far, is from my Dad, who stayed up all night to read it.

2006-10-04T17:44:00.000-07:00

More No Bigger than a Minute

PBS has more background on "No Bigger than a Minute," including a couple of interviews couple with the filmmaker, Steven Delano.

USA Today also did a story on Steven's film and a number of similar projects involving little people.

There's also more background at the Denver Post.

As the Brits say, it's brilliant.

2006-10-02T20:08:00.000-07:00

Welcoming the Stranger

Things have been difficult for seafarers coming to the US since 9/11. After weeks at sea they arrive on American shores as unwelcome guests. The cargo their ships bring is offloaded quickly, but getting a shore is a great deal trickier for the seafarers themselves. In some cases, such as cruise ships, a crew may have as little as a few hours of shore leave.

At least in Boston, those seafarers find friendly face in the port chaplains, explains the Boston Globe. Sometimes the chaplains do something as simple as taking the seafarers to the mall for a few hours. Or, in the case of the New England Seafarer's Mission
, the chaplains help provide other small graces--coffee and access to phones or the internet.

Ninety-nine percent of them are married and have families," Steven Cushing, director of the NE Seafarer's Mission told the Globe. "That is why they are doing the job. They come from countries where employment is difficult to obtain. . . . They want to know that everyone at home is all right, and home wants to know that they're all right."

As Cushing points out, the idea of offering hospitality to strangers from straight for the Bible. He told the Globe:

"We're looking at a larger picture of hospitality, even as Christian scripture looks at it, which is you take in the stranger who asks for help as he's on his travels or on her travels through this world. When they cross your path, you provide kind of a safety zone where they can receive help, receive comfort, receive rest, and then you send them on their way to continue their journey."

2006-09-30T19:58:00.000-07:00

No Bigger Than a Minute:On Tuesday Night

Looking for something to watch on Tuesday night?

No Bigger Than a Minute, a a documentary film by Steven Delano, is airing at 9pm Eastern on PBS.

Here's the description:

Few people ever meet a dwarf face-to-face. In this personal journey, dwarf documentary filmmaker Steve Delano shows first-hand how a genetic mutation marks a person for life. He reveals the isolation of his school age years, his "ludicrous" strategies to fit in, as well as the mixed blessings of dwarfism. In No Bigger Than a Minute, Delano exercises his license of stature and irreverent sense of humor to confront head-on conventional representations and misperceptions about dwarfs. From growing up a "freak"-a form of forced celebrity-to finally accepting and asserting his difference, Delano provides an idiosyncratic perspective based on a tip-toe life, and contemplates a future where genetic engineering may eliminate "people-of-difference" altogether

I'll be watching. Steven's a funny and gifted filmmaker--and the clips so far seem great. (He's also my cousin.)

2006-09-30T19:46:00.000-07:00

The Book is in Stores

Alas for my friend Randall Friesen: he's got seven book to read before he can get to "GP Taylor: Sin, Salvation, and Shadowmancer"

If there aren't seven books on your desk, waiting to be read, then saunter on over to your local bookselling establishment, and pick up a copy. It's on the shelf in the religion section at the Borders near my house.(I know because I snuck and peak at it--and waiting until leaving before doing a little dance.

2006-09-24T21:34:00.000-07:00

A first review

From the first (of many, I hope) customer reviews from Amazon.com of GP Taylor: Sin Salvation, and Shadowmancer:

The story of Taylor's life will make you believe in miracles and is a true inspiration. Get two copies so you can pass it on to a friend. Once you start reading you won't want to put it down!

2006-09-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

A Random Thought

Two thousand evangelicals show at at an event this past weekend in Washington, where Jerry Falwell reportedly said that Christians voters prefer Satan to Hillary Clinton, and it's headline news, at least in the LA Times The site of that many evangelicals in one place--something that happens at more than 1,000 evangelical megachurches each weekend--was enough to attract the Times and a bevy of would-be presidential candidates: Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney, Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee and Senators George Allen of Virginia and Sam Brownback of Kansas--to the Values Voter Summit.

But the Times and the would-be presidents might have seen a different set of values in action had they bothered to attend the Willow Creek Leadership Summit this past summer, which drew more than 7,000 to Willow Creek's sanctuary in South Barrington, Illinois, and more than 70,000 at satellite sites where the conference was beamed into. All of those people, btw, paid a couple hundred dollars each to attend the summit, which focused on how to grow congregations, how to serve the poor, and fighting AIDS. The only enemies addressed in that conference were the enemies of a growing church. According to James Meeks of Salem Baptist Church, those enemies are mainly a lack of faith and poor leadership--apparently this one problem is caused by the Senator from New York.

But the headline of the Leadership Summit would have come Bono: "Love thy neighbor is not advice, it's a command," he told participants via video. Or perhaps this: Stop looking for God to bless what you are doing, and look instead for what God is doing--and find a blessing there. And the best place to find God is among the poor. That's another Bono-ism. Or perhaps this line from Bill Hybels would be better--When church leaders fail, people die. (He was speaking about vulnerable people living in the third world--who die when pastors from rich nations fail to teach and lead their people to live out compassion and justice.)

Ask anyone who knows anything about evangelicals and they'll tell you that in terms of real power to influence churches and people, Jerry Falwell and James Dobson can't hold a candle to Hybels or Rick Warren, or even Bono.

But apparently the LA Times missed the memo.

2006-09-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

Capt. Brad Velotta wanted to get home to see his grandmother one last time. Staff Sgt. Chad Denton misses his five kids. But like the rest of the colleagues in the 4-23 infantry battalion of the the 172nd Stryker Brigade, Velotta and Denton won't be going home from Iraq any time soon, according to Newsweek. .

Things are rough back home for the families they left behind, as Newsweek reports.

"Meanwhile, families are falling apart. Back in Alaska, one 4-23 wife has a suicidal child in the hospital; another suffered an ectopic pregnancy and had to beg her husband's commander to let him come home to care for her. Another wife attempted suicide. Her husband was sent home, but his career, the other wives say, is over. Gossip is running wild: who drinks too much, who has a compulsive-gambling problem, whose kids are left untended."

One our denomination's chaplains, Capt. John Grauer, serves the 4-23. Even he broke down when news came down about the delay in going home. Newsweek narrated the scene through his eyes:

"There was a rush of soldiers trying to get on the phone to call home. Some literally threw up when they heard the news. Some were extremely angry ... Some went to sleep for a couple of days, hoping maybe it was all a bad dream."

It was tough for Grauer to tell his wife, Tyra, and their two girls—especially Morriah, 9. "She started crying," he says. "That's when I put the sunglasses on."

Behind the shades, he wept.

2006-09-03T14:29:00.000-07:00

"Graham's story is a vivid reminder that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Nothing. Not anger, not failure, not illness, not success, not church hypocrisy, not excessive rock and roll--nothing.

If you're losing or have lost hope, I urge you to read this compelling story of a messy, real life that challenges assumptions about smug Christian living and instead gives a glimpse of an ongoing journey of struggle anchored by a God robust to love anyway." Diane Louise Jordan

Some kind words about GP Taylor: Sin, Salvation, & Shadowmancer from Diane Louise Jordan, a television presenter in the UK.

2006-08-30T09:18:00.000-07:00

Tucked in at the end of a news story about the Red Sox was this item:

Jason Gagne, 32, a videographer for NESN, died Monday of an apparent heart attack while driving along American Legion Highway. Gagne shot a lot of Red Sox, Bruins, and Celtics games as well as the ``Sports Plus" show.

Jason was also my cousin.(Technically my second cousin, as his mother Christine is my cousin.)Early yesterday morning, Christine's son Jimmy was woken up at by a knock at the door from the state police. He had to go and identify Jason's brother's body. Then Jimmy and his sister Stephanie had to tell their mom that Jason was dead.

Please pray for them, if you have a chance. There are no other words that will help.

2006-08-23T15:06:00.000-07:00

Sin, Salvation, Shadowmancer

The book countdown is on.

Four days till the UK release of GP Taylor; Sin Salvation and Shadowmancer (as told to yours truly).

Here on the other side of the Atlantic, it's still 34 days to the big release of this story about God's unexpected grace. (Still it's not to early to pre-order

To whet your appetite, here's a few of the early stories about GP (Graham Peter) Taylor, the once time "all around sinner" turned vicar and New York Times bestelling author.

An interview from the Australian Broadcasting Company: "From Wicca to Vicar to Hollywood" .

And a profile from the New York Times-- that includes this summary of Graham's early life:

Mr. Taylor, 46, was not always moved by evangelical fervor. Much of his youth was spent, he said, in the precincts of ''sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.''

His father, Frank, was profoundly deaf, a shoe repairman or, in Mr. Taylor's words, ''a mender of soles.'' (''I am a mender of souls,'' the large and jolly Mr. Taylor likes to say.) His mother, Mary, was severely hearing impaired and worked in a cafeteria. As a child, Mr. Taylor learned to communicate with them by watching them talk to each other in sign language.

The family, which included two sisters, lived in a government housing project. When he was 13, Mr. Taylor was expelled from school. ''I hung a friend out the window,'' he said, ''set fire to the desks. I'd taken a radiator off the wall, dyed my hair bright red.''

At 15 he moved out of the house, lived with a girlfriend and became part of the punk rock scene, imbibing quantities of drugs and alcohol. ''It was good fun,'' he said. ''But it was stupid and dangerous.''

When he was 21 Mr. Taylor found God. He was working in a community center for the deaf and elderly. ''I had been searching for the truth,'' he said. His co-workers began talking to him about the power of Christianity.

''Very gently and very slowly they dismissed every argument I had,'' he said. ''I didn't become a born-again Christian. It wasn't like Saul on the road to Damascus. Over a period, I realized this was the way I should follow.''

Stay tuned for the rest of the story.

And remember, preorder often .

2006-08-18T16:01:00.000-07:00

Small Steps of Faith

While searching background information for an editing project, I came across this quote:

"One little act of obedience creates some space for Jesus to work in the world."

It was a reminder that God works in very small things. An insignificant nation, chosen to save the world. A small boy who gave up his loaves and fishes so that a miracle could take place and thousands of people could be fed. A small group of people, not of them particularly charismatic, given the job of taking the message of the kingdom of God to the ends of the earth.

That same God, who spoke the stars into existence became a small baby, born the "straw and shit" of barn, as Bono puts it. After beng crushed under the bootheels of imperial Rome, that same God announced his return by appearing to two small, insignificant women on a Sunday morning. Those women had come to a graveside to do the small act of annointing a body for burial.

Last week, at an enormous event--the Willow Creek Leadership Summit--Jim Collins, business guru and author of Good to Great--told an crowd of thousand that the key to greatness in life lies in taking one small step at time. One small step after another.

Carolyn Pitezel could have told the crowd the same thing--though she's not a business guru and doesn't have mounds of academic research to back her up. She has a different kind of authority--40 years of faithful, behind-the-scenes service at the national offices of the Evangelical Covenant Church.

Dorothy Grace Nelson could have also given that lesson as well. A faithful member of one church in Minnesota, who gave herself to her church family year after year, and then made an unexpected gift to her denomination.

One small step of obedience makes room for Jesus to work in the world.

That's a good thing to remember.

2006-08-04T16:07:00.000-07:00

Scot McKnight has been hosting a spirited discussion about Randall Balmer's new book, "Thy Kingdom Come," over that the Jesus Creed . Scot's a monster blogger and an insightful commentator—and his posts are always worth reading.

Here's my two cents about Balmer's book, and the rest of the recent books about the religious right as the root of all evil in America.

I suspect that many Evangelicals (and conservative Catholics) vote Republican not because they love the religious right, but because either they see either they see that party as the lessor of two evils or because the Democratic party has made them feel unwelcome. Or because the last two Democratic presidential candidates (whom I supported) had been completely unable to communicate with people of faith.

Balmer all but admits that he wrote this book because he’s mad that George Bush was elected, twice. I suspect that it’s a lot easier to blame the religious right for this, than to ask the Democratic Party to take a cold hard look at how its failed in the last two presidential elections.

The last Democratic presidential candidate who could talk the language of faith and who could connect with ordinary voters was elected twice, and would win today in a landslide were it not for the 22nd ammendment. Without that ammendment, I suspect we’d be in the 4th term of the Clinton president. And nobody would be talking about the religious right.

2006-08-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

So, my prayer this morning went something like this:

"God, I'm want all of my worries--about money, the house, a job for Kathy, the book, the books I'm supposed to do, my mom's illness, all of it—into your hands. Amen."

(Pause)

Ok, will you hurry and do something. Time's a wasting.

Oh me of little faith.

2006-07-11T14:41:00.000-07:00

When Words Fail

Not long after our denomination's annual, a colleague of mine drove out to Iowa to officiate at a family wedding. While at the wedding, news came that his grandnephew had committed suicide. So he stayed on to do the funeral. On the morning of the funeral service, another minister who was taking part in the funeral said, "I don't feel much like being a pastor today."

Words fail at times like this. No trite phrases or platitudes can hold up. My colleague spoke of the love of God which passes all understanding, and of the promise of the resurrection, and together this family clung on to hope, because that was all they had left.

Earlier today, we passed around a card for another colleague, whose husband died suddenly of a heart attack last week. He was buried Saturday and today. They had planned to retire soon and enjoy life together, and now she faces an uncertain future, trying to make her way alone. "God hold you close in these days" was all I could muster for her card.

Meanwhile in India, hundreds of families are mourning their loved ones, snuffed out by terrorists bombs, and Edris Moore, a mother in Missouri, mourns her four children who were swept away in the Meramec River while on a church outing.

A friend of mine taught me once about the sacrament of the present moment--a term he learned about in the one book in seminary he enjoyed reading. Tonight I'm going to give that sacrament a try. I'm going to go home and not yell at my kids for once, read them a few extra books, and instead of packing them of to bed and going down to the basement to work right away, I'll lay down with them until they go to sleep.

I have them today. No one has promised me tomorrow. Tonight I want to remember that.