Cooling Down and Warming Up

Right now we are getting close to being a foot deep in snow, and it is still coming down. The snow has frosted the trees and has made for some really fun runs. As I look out of my window the snow slides down a silver roof and hangs off the edge like brilliantly white crooked teeth. Not only have I been able to run, but I have gotten out on the Tsalteshi Cross Country Ski Trails. I found a pair of skis in the sports shed, the boots fit really well, but the skis (by my limited understanding) were too short. 

The morning was beautiful for a skiing adventure. It is convenient that sunrise is later so that I get to catch it (given I am on a college student sleep schedule). I was a little rusty on my ski skills, but managed to have a quick learning curve. The downhills provided a little excitement for the work of getting up the other side. It was really peaceful to be out there with only a few others joining me (and the bears being in hibernation by now). Also, I don’t mind so much the cold anymore (twenty degrees now feels quite warm). Portions of the trails are also lit during the night time (which I am going to enjoy soon).

This is the time of the year that the memories of camp have usually left me (and I stop drinking pop; a habit I pick up at the many gas station stops over the summers). The scars of the summer are all healed and the suntan has long faded. I stop sounding like a broken record, “at camp we did…” and the winter reunion at camp is still almost two months away. But, this year I have been thinking about camp more than usual for the middle of November. Part of this is attributed to a sense that I am more in a camp environment (something that I have been trying to escape and to which I cling). The reasoning for the camp-esque feel is due to the temporality of some of the relationships. I have broken that barrier of distrust with many of the students and we are able to share vulnerable feelings with one another. In short, we are starting to feel more like friends. But, there have been a some students who have had to leave, due to discipline, or grades, or their family “needing” them at home. Again, I am reminded of a Chris Radloff (director of youth ministries at camp) cliché, “Camp is a place of comings and goings.” The campers who you really wished could stay with you for the whole summer were gone before you knew it. Similarly the ones that were a handful, well they left shortly also.

I was excited about coming to ACC because the duration for which I could build into the lives of students was quite a bit longer than the week to ten days that I had with campers at camp. If anything, the notion that at any time someone could leave the school gives me a greater sense of urgency. But it blindsides you when loose ends are left just when a student seemed to be making some spiritual progress.

God recently provided some comfort for me in this frustration. I got a facebook message from a new member of the Hollenbeck House (my home in LA). What she said is that she had met someone on the Gold Line of the Metro Rail who upon hearing that she lived in the Hollenbeck House got excited. This man, Juan, said that a blonde haired guy had prayed for him from the house (he had a messed up leg from getting shot). The exciting part is that he was now back to running! God had answered his prayer and had even provided continuity of relationships with this seemingly random encounter.

What an awesome God who, even though I had forgotten about this man, has been working in his life through others.

In other news, I went out on a limb and played a harmonica accompaniment at chapel. Playing mostly hymns and older worship songs I got a chance to put a little folky spin on the classics. 

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We also recently had our first school basketball game. We drove down to Homer to play Alaska Bible Institute (an even smaller school that feels even more like camp). Well there were actually two games: a staff game and a student game. I got to play representing the staff and play hard I did! It felt really good to compete in a sport. My b-ball skills are improving, but I still have a ways to go. The one thing that I have on the other team is being able to outrun them (we lost for those who are keeping score...but it was close). 

View from Homer, AK pre-basketball game vs. ABI

Frozen Goatee after XC Skiing

Skiing near the Kenai River

One Day A Million Jobs

To say my job is dynamic and comprehensive is quite an understatement on a day like today. I felt like Frank Abignail Jr. from the film Catch Me if You Can. Some of the staff had gone to a pastor's conference leaving some exciting shoes to fill. I was more than eager to try them on.

My day began as I (figuratively) tied my half windsor of substitute teacher suit. I filled in for one of the professors who had gone to the conference for the weekend. We talked about a biblical view of humanity in the Foundations of Faith class. I was able to pull a creed that I had made in my Biola theology class on the topic of humanity and use that to aid in the class. In the front of the classroom a "Smart Board" made me feel like a graffiti artist. A Smart Board is a hybrid between a white board and a powerpoint projector. You are able to control the powerpoint by touching the board and you can write notes on your powerpoint that get saved to the file. So naturally what I did (resorting to being 12 again) was draw mustaches on the photos of people in the presentation. I know there is a bit of teacher/professor in store for me somewhere in my future; it was just too much fun!

I then put on my Sunday best because the campus pastor was gone and I had been quick to volunteer for that opportunity. That week leading up to this Wednesday I had been wrestling with what I should speak about at chapel. The LORD put it on my heart on Sunday night during a prayer time: endurance. There were so many students that seemed to have mountains blocking their path and for some the path seemed poorly marked. I had a certainty that I should be speaking on that topic. The next thing that I needed to do was to see what the Bible has to say on the topic. I looked through a number of passages and saw some good stuff. There was one passage that I was trying to stay away from, but it was the one I ended up choosing: Hebrews 12:1-13. Not that there is anything wrong with this passage, I just thought there might be something more applicable. I just like that passage too much. So I studied that passage, reading and re-reading it, looking at commentaries and footnotes, modeling my message in the style of Tim Chaddock from Reality LA. I really like the way that he does a good job at making the passages hit home for the audience (aka good hermeneutics). I even got to choose some of the songs for the worship band to play on the same topic. You can see my notes from the sermon below.

The mask I put on was of event planner. The RS's had our weekly meeting together and we were planning events for the students. This particular event that we were planning was a Halloween Party. We set a budget, decided on some games, food, and had fun doing so. Each week our staff meetings are like mini-parties because we always share a lot of laughs. They are always a good mid-week re-energizer.

Later that afternoon I put on the Bob Dylan shades and had a "jam session" with one of the students. He played guitar, I accompanied on the harmonica and we played anything from hymns to contemporary songs. We are practicing to have a few songs in our repertoire for a future chapel. It would be fun and would be a different, folkier style than the worship norm.

My night job is a yellow taxi driver uniform. I took the students to Fred Meyer (the local pseudo department store) for a "town run". While we were shopping one of the students asked me if I would go half in on some potatoes to make fried potatoes with him. One thing led to another and I put on my "toque blanche" (or chef's hat) and we fried up some potatoes for other students.

Before heading to bed I put on my counselor coat and gave input for a student on finding his meaning and purpose in life. Probably the most important clothes I'd wear all day. Exhausted from a day full to the brim I headed back to my cabin and descended into dreamland I reflected on how the dreams of the students remain lackluster at best.

Pray that the LORD would allow them to dream big for His glory and praise God that I did not have to put on the star badge of policeman.




Like I promised, here are my notes from the message I gave at chapel:

Enduring for another moment for a lifetime

Open with me to Hebrews 12:1-13

Pray

Father God,

Thank you for the ways in which you use trials for our good. We pray that we would learn from your word today and that your Spirit would illuminate this passage for us, that it might penetrate our hearts. LORD, I pray for all the struggles, temptations, and weariness that students and staff alike on this campus may be experiencing. Would you, Jesus be our north star to guide us in faith toward yourself.

We love you. In Jesus name,

Amen

If you’re running a 26-mile marathon, remember that every mile is run one step at a time. If you are writing a book, do it one page at a time. If you’re trying to master a new language, try it one word at a time. There are 365 days in the average year. Divide any project by 365 and you’ll find that no job is all that intimidating.

- Charles Swindoll

As a distance runner myself I fully appreciate the metaphor of a running a race that this passage gives us. I have had my fair share of successes, but none of them have come easily. In fact, I have had to endure much suffering to achieve my goals.

Of all of trials that I had to face, the largest obstacle came at me in February of 2008.  I was a sophomore at Biola University where I was a part of the track team. A week after qualifying for the indoor national meet I began to experience some shin pain while I was running. This escaladed to the point that I could no longer run. I went to see the athletic trainers at the school and they prescribed that I should ride a bike for a few days instead of running because it is a lower impact activity, meaning there is less pounding on my shins. I had been cycling for a few days and my shins were showing only slight improvement. On the morning of February 28^th I went out for a bike ride and was picking up speed as I descended a hill. A man driving a gold sedan was coming up the hill. The man made a left turn onto a side street right… in …front …of …me. Having no time to react I collided with the side of his vehicle, hitting and cracking his windshield, flying like a rag doll over the vehicle I landed twenty feet down the road on the left side of my body.

The next thing I know I am in the LA County Hospital and I am a broken mess. A nurse asked me how I thought that I got to the hospital and responded by saying that I rode my bike there. It was the only explanation that made sense to me. The last thing I knew I was riding my bike, and then I was at the hospital. I had in fact taken a much more direct route to the hospital. I had cracked the helmet that I was wearing (by God’s grace), broke my shoulder, some ribs, and my hip. I had been transported to the hospital by helicopter and had emergency surgery done on my broken hip. I now carry around a titanium plate and six screws there. The doctors had given me an outlook that I might never run again.

The recovery from a complex injury of this sort is not a quick process. In fact the arduous journey was one that felt at times like two steps forward one step backwards. The first literal steps that I took were not until I was able to put weight on my hip. This took nearly four months for my hip to be weight bearing. I went through countless hours of physical therapy trying to regain strength enough to walk.

During this time of enduring hardships I had to have faith; faith that God, as loving father, had a purpose for the pain, and faith that God would see me through this time. Sometimes it was hard and frustrating when things didn’t happen as fast as I wanted them to and believe me there were plenty of times I wanted to give up trying. But I had changed motivations now. Now I wanted to get back to running so that I could be a testament to God’s grace. Giving him the glory for my running was the goal. I had a couple of passages that were instrumental with giving me that comfort, hope and perseverance and one of those is the passage we just read.

The author of Hebrews provides here a look into what we need to endure, why we need to endure these things, how we are to endure, and how long we must endure it.

What to endure

First the author is writing most likely to a group of Jewish believers. We can infer from the text that some of the members of the church to whom he is writing have to endure persecution (13:3). Along with the persecution that the church was experiencing they also have to endure hostility (3), weariness (3), discipline (5), struggles with sin (4).

Why endure

Ultimately why we are to endure is because we want something. That something is our goal, it is what we set our eyes upon. The author here argues that we should want a deeper relationship with the Lord Jesus and that we should fix our eyes on him. We need to first understand verse five and six that show that God disciplines his children. He loves his children. Read verses seven and eight. He disciplines us as children to make us respect him more. Also we will enjoy a greater relationship with the father when we endure. Verses 10 and 11 show how endurance will bring greater holiness, fruit of righteousness. Also the author assures us that the trials are for our good (10).

How do we endure

According to this text we should look to the example of those who, through faith have endured great trials. The chapter before talks of how Able, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Samson, David and others endured because of their faith. But the greatest example of endurance is found in Jesus; he endured temptations for power from Satan in the desert, he lived a perfect life and ultimately he endured the excruciating torture of the cross, scorning its shame and sat down in the place of power. We see that Jesus calls us to cast our weariness on him to take the load, (like Thomas’ burden he was carrying during the New Hope Fundraiser).

How long to endure

We are called to endure until the Kingdom comes fully. We have an advantage over those in the “Hall of Faith” because we are living in the inaugurated kingdom. But it is not here in full. So we have to endure until Jesus returns in power, making all things new.

With my eyes fixed on Jesus I was able to endure the hardships of getting back to running (something the doctors told me was not likely) and I have exceeded the times that I ran before I was injured. I hope my story helps you also to persevere through trials.

Application

Now, I want you to take five minutes and get with two others and share and pray for one another: What in your life have you gone through that you endured? How can you use that story as an extension of the “Hall of Faith”? What currently do you need to endure? (maybe school work, struggles with sin, weariness, homesickness, tension in a relationship, etc.)

Exceeding Expectations

pre-race

post-race

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends. -Shel Silverstein

I found it easy to excel when there are no expectations. That was how I felt about the Kenai River Half Marathon. I woke up around 8 and there was frost on the ground and I had packed tights and under armor and hats and gloves. Ashley (another RS) was joining me and running her first half marathon. We had tried to recruit some students to come and cheer for us as we ran but it was a hard sell to get college students to get up early, stand out in the cold and watch us run. Without a cheering squad we drove off I went through my mental checklist of having everything that I needed. Breakfast of oatmeal and banana, check, lots of options for clothes to wear, check, shoes, on my feet sooo, check, trusty mexican flag bandana, check, gloves, half check. I looked around and was only able to find one glove. Defeated I decided I didn't want to run with gloves on anyhow. The sun was shining on this morning, now that usually is a good sign, but not for warm weather in this climate. Fortunately the remaining leaves on the trees were not leaving their perch. We arrived, picked up our race packets, I pinned my race number to my under armor shirt and then continued to warm up. Throughout the next hour of warming up (my body and the outside temp) I had changed shirts three times unpinning and re-pinning the bib number each time. I finally settled on a familiar outfit. Now the beauty of a small race (about 50 runners in the half) is that I didn't have to push and squeeze through masses to get to the front of the pack. On the other hand right from the gun I took off and had only the lead bike as my companion. The course wasn't completely "closed" so I had a few friendly motorists give me honks of encouragement. As I made the turn off of Beaver Loop Road and onto Kenai Spur the backdrop of the scene was painted white with the snow capped peak of Mount Redoubt. Upon finishing I stopped my watch and was pleasantly surprised. I was shooting for a 1:15, thinking that was as good of shape as I was in, and finding myself at a 1:11:09. As a bonus I got a hot reindeer dog lunch for free.

My first crochet work and teacher

I have been enjoying letting the students teach me things that interest them. One student has been my basketball coach, another my guitar teacher and another has even taught me how to crochet! My motto about trying new things, "keep it coming!" I crocheted a headband, that started out about four inches wide and ended about three inches wide...whoops, still learning. My goal with that is to be able to make a beanie hat; to make something practical for keeping warm in the winter. My student-teacher is less concerned about function and wants me to learn how to make a flower, hmmm. My guitar student-teacher was self-taught himself and finds it difficult to teach when he doesn't know the names of the chords. Therefore I mostly watch and learn by being inspired. It has been a joy to affirm the students in the fact that they do have something valuable to offer, to give them a chance at sharing their story of how they arrived at where their current passions, and selfishly to get to learn new talents.

I have found myself on the other side of keeping expectations low also. Earlier this week one student left early from Story (a time where students are able to share their testimonies) to get to lunch early. I asked him why he left early and how he would feel if people were leaving while he was sharing his story in front of a group. He seemed receptive to what I had to say and then the next day he left early again. My expectation was that change would be an immediate response. Reality is that I am up against a whole history of not being given appropriate boundaries. To expect him to unlearn this pattern of behavior and change overnight, I found, is unrealistic. Now that I have put it in perspective and reset the limbo bar of expectations it is harder for me to fall on my back in disappointment. Growth is a process and grace is necessary.

similarities, seasons, and salmon

As I ride a bike along Highway One and then make a turn on to Kalifornsky Beach Highway...I can't help but see the similarities between all I experienced living in Los Angeles and the challenges and opportunities that currently lay in front of me.

We had an all-staff "retreat" (more like an all day meeting) in which one of the agenda items was to discuss the college's mascot. There were a few candidates: the bald eagle, the spruce hen, the salmon, and the mahlemuit (an Alaskan breed of sled dog). All having their own unique and beneficial attributes (yes even the laughable spruce hen) I had my mind narrowed down to two preferences. I thought 'bald eagle - cliche and overdone, the hen - ha good one! the mahlemuit and the salmon were both good catches in my opinion. I had to vote for one though...

Living in LA I was able to spend a good deal of time volunteering at the Bicycle Kitchen (a do-it-yourself/together bicycle workshop) my job description includes bicycle mechanic here too. Strewn outside of the office building a number of bikes support one another as though they were singing Lean on Me to one another. Walking by I cringed at the bikes' state of utter disrepair the students of last year had left them. My supervisor gladly deferred the repair to me and allowed me to purchase some spare tubes, tools and other bike supplies. With grease blackened palms I thought to myself, 'I am getting paid for this!' Not only that, but I had the opportunity to get to know the maintenance crew on grounds as I invaded their workspace.

Now I know that all the interviews that I had gone through this past spring didn't go to complete waste. I mean, at times they were therapeutic to talk about myself and give myself an honest evaluation, furthermore they have proved a valuable experience in this new job. As Resident Supervisors (RS) we have the opportunity to elect student Resident Assistants (RA). The other male RS and I sat down and put together a list of questions that we would ask our aspiring RAs; questions that would hopefully give us some insight into how they would deal with conflict, the why question, and strengths and weaknesses. One of the students we interviewed has been at the school for a few semesters already and he took full advantage of the question posed to him, "...and do you have any questions for [the RSs]?" He made sure we knew what we were in for. That took us a little by surprise that we were getting interviewed also.

Another time I have been caught off guard is in a new found form of recreation...basketball. Amongst all of the villages in Alaska basketball is a big deal. I never would have thought that I would be enjoying playing basketball as much as I have been. I now look forward to Tuesday and Saturday evenings when we will go to "The Rec" to play ball. The students have been teaching me how to properly shoot the ball, how to dribble with my eyes up rather than down at the ball and any number of other useful pointers. They have confused my endurance and my go-all-out attitude for being a good player, ha! Well I am learning to shoot and not look like a monkey (although I still shoot with my left hand). I still have a little bit of hope in me that I might find some eskimos who love to play soccer (like the youth in Boyle Heights do) but I am coming to terms with this game that they call basketball.

As I reflect on all of what I have seen so far I am struck by how the gang life in LA and the village life in rural Alaska share so many similarities. The two environments, as different as they may seem, both reflect a community that at times can feel like a trap. The gang life is confined to maybe ten square blocks of 'turf' while many of the rural villages are accessible only by airplane; there are no roads that reach them. The villages have a lot of problems with alcoholism and suicide and the gangs let drugs keep them trapped. Everyone in the gang knows one's business, similarly anonymity in the villages is non-existent. Both stand in limbo of wanting to escape and feeling a sense of obligation to help change the culture.

both need hope.
not escape.
both need
Jesus.
for now.
and for the future.
They need the Jesus who brings about the Kingdom here and now and not just a Jesus who acts as fire insurance.

During orientation weekend we had to get all sorts of insurance information from the students but we were also able to do some fun activities. One such event was hiking to the Russian River Falls. The hike itself was relatively unimpressive, however the falls itself was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. By my (self-proclaimed) expert opinion we came upon some class IV rapids. There were three to five foot waterfalls that came down the falls. I wished I  could raft down the rapids! But then, like a scene from national geographic, there were red and silver salmon making the most incredible leaps that I have ever seen up the falls! Schools of fish were taking rests in the nearby eddy (calm spot in the rapids) and some of the natives even were able to grab fish with bare (or bear) hands. Having spent a good deal of time in whitewater over the summers I have a good understanding for the force of the current, and I have a healthy respect for it. Not every fish made the leap on the first try but the persistence of the spawning salmon inspired awe. Their goal - to make it to the calm waters to reproduce, to give a hope for future generations; to return to their birthplace; to give back what they have been given. It's no easy task to achieve.


I think the salmon has my vote.

Re-rooted

Our residence life staff headed out in a Toyota Highlander and a Dodge pickup truck on route to Johnson Lake. This is one of those moments that I knew that I have been preparing for this experience for a while, even if I didn't know that I was being prepared for this. We were bringing two canoes to take out on the lake and they had to be strapped down to the top of the vehicles. 'No problem, I have been doing this all summer' I thought to myself as I balanced a canoe atop my shoulders and proceeded to tie it down to the roof using truckers' hitches and other knots I had stored in my mental toolbox.

We filled the evening with telling our 'stories' to one another and filled our stomachs with pudgy pie pizzas and Reese's s'mores. As I sat listening to the stories of the other RS's (Resident Supervisors) I couldn't help but notice how much they all had in common with my own story. The details were all different, but the struggles and the successes shared a common thread. Sean, the director of student life, broke his foot in a hockey accident on the same date that I got in my bike accident. In sharing these stories we are beginning to learn that we are not alone in a place as vast and as wild as Alaska. Three words are all that sometimes need to be spoken to instill trust in others:

 I've. been. there.

These words are the beginning of a trust bond not easily broken. We even shared in our goals and aspirations: to learn to play guitar. I came off of the summer of being a wilderness adventure guide on a team where no one played the guitar; it is not an essential skill, but it sure beats trying to sing a cappella.  Before even arriving to Alaska I knew that in these next nine months that I am going to learn to play this cliche instrument. Fat fingers aren't going to stop me. Neither shall busyness. Nor the gates of hell shall not stand against Peter and I (haha). I'll take it one step at a time...and there are a lot of steps needed for me to be building a 'Stairway to Heaven' as Led Zeppelin would play. Each expecting that the other RS would know how to play we made a pact that we will all learn. I snagged a guitar that ACC (Alaska Christian College) owns and have been giving it daily attention. Hooray for building callouses on my fingers and character in my heart.

Playing guitar is only one small goal that we share, but for our team to really come together we are going to have to overcome some mountainous challenges this year. We role played some scenarios of confrontations with students about some of the issues we might have to address this year and the hills of cultural differences, personal 'baggage', language and communication will have to be climbed.

The way up to the peak looks long, but I know time is short.

Sean called me over to the shore of the lake saying, "Ryan, come look...moose!" I came running and boarded the canoe and took off with another RS paddling to go in for a closer look. We kept our distance but observed a mother moose and her calf wading in the water. Although it was my first sighting of the awe inspiring creatures I was promised that it would not be my last. In fact, what I am told is that soon enough it will be a common sight.

God has a way of taking the seemingly random and making it all work together. Whether it is working with hispanic youth in LA or taking suburban kids to the north woods of Wisconsin I trust that God is using my skills (i.e. knot tying) and my experiences (i.e. working with youth whose first language isn't english) together in a way I can hardly imagine. God has brought a group of RS's together from across the country whose past's relate so that we can accomplish His future purposes. Soon enough, like seeing moose, we will be old friends who can lean upon one another when we need support.

we are cities once one

Hope you enjoy this poem I wrote. My inspiration came from Hebrews 13:12-16 and Revelation 21, Los Angeles, and Atlantis.

there is a chaos running rampant breeding hoards of senselessness
creator quietly arranging the cosmos working six days before rest
we are cities high on hills on seas
humbly brought low on bended knees
we were all isles without oars drifting constantly apart
we were actors without roles waiting to be assigned a part
on broken wings and faulty lines we have barely even flown
building fragile crooked cities up from uneven ground
built to break, crumble and fall like fortresses alone
wait in eager anticipation for the king who's to be crowned
built with mud and clay, broken like sticks and stones
on altars high and idols many, who sit on phony thrones
the earth will quake, true king sits down, his rightful place to take
setting the floating cities in motion, like the way gravity pulls
beating hearts by steady drummer, vital signs his pulse
equipping pilgrims' hands with tools of salt and light to be cities on a hill
these luminous building blocks forever at work accomplishing His will
rejected but reunited the cities have collided
centripetal force overcoming relentless resistance
provides a purpose for this vain and seemingly meaningless existence
searching for love and security
the unchangeable constants
finding them in the great I AM
a name of only consonants
with a sound like a lock and key the cities form a new Pangea
from the shackles of lock and key i am now free to be a
citizen at home at rest at peace with all the rest
but tonight the Sun stays steady, it will not be setting in the West.

One Score and Four Years Ago...

To break out of a cycle sometimes you need to break a (bi)cycle. That is what it took me four years ago today to recognize how dependent I am upon God. The fresh experience with grace, the grace of just being alive is something to marvel about. Finding myself with a broken bike, shoulder, ribs, helmet and hip I landed on the pavement, no place to look but up. Not able to depend on myself I was forced to depend on family, friends, and mostly on God. Grace is the only thing in general that breaks the cycle that demands justice. There is nothing new under the sun the preacher of Ecclesiastes states. Everything goes in cycles. We know this to be true with styles, but even more so, the root of the problems that man has experienced since the beginning of time have been the same as they are in 2012. We seek revenge for wrongs and payment for what is due. But when we receive grace that cycle ends. Meaning returns. Time no longer goes in meaningless cycles but Jesus comes in, solves the sin problem and then we are able to confidently travel through linear time where there is a hope of future glory at the end of the story. Pride still sometimes gets in my way of recognizing that my strength only comes from the LORD but when pride creeps in to my life then I have also experienced grace in new ways. Now the score (scar) that I have from the incision is still there to remind me not to forget. Four years and so much has changed but so much is the same. I still ride bikes, I still run, and I still have to daily remember the giver of life and trust the master surgeon. Yet, because of this experience I am forever changed. So I will not take for granted the ability to leap this leap year.

Same Kind of Different

This is one of those adventures that began as an idea thrown about in jest. On Monday I went over to the neighborhood of Pico-Union to meet with a friend. This friend is in the neighborhood as a missionary and has a great ministry to the teens who live in that barrio. So on Monday night I was invited to their dinner (slash) devotional (slash) hangout night. As an outsider to the community it was hard for me to really participate so much as I was able to just observe and to meet a few of the guys there. As I sat I reflected a lot on my own high school experience and the apparent disparity of the two. I did not grow up in the inner city where gang violence is common and where I had to worry about walking home at night because of who I might encounter. Also never have I seen friends who were so cutting at one another; everything was about one upping your friend, or putting him down, or blatantly telling him f*** you. So needless to say as the only other white guy with all the hispanic teens I felt a little out of place. One thing that one of the teens brought up was that they were going to Big Bear for the coming weekend. After they had all left Jeff filled me in on all the details and then jokingly told me that I should come. My response was, "Ha, how serious are you?" He responded by saying that well if you are available we could probably use you. I told him I was not busy this coming weekend and that he said that if there was a spot available in the car they could use me. Fortunately a seat was available for me.

On Friday evening I met up with the crew and we left for Big Bear. I didn't really understand what my role was to be given that I didn't really know what the agenda for the trip was, I didn't know what Jeff wanted to teach, I wasn't a driver, I didn't really know the teens...so what was my role again? My knowledge of Spanish doesn't do me a lot of good with this demographic. Although they would frequently seamlessly flow from English to Spanish and back again it wasn't any of the Spanish that I had learned in school that they were tossing around. The slang terms, quick speech and constant use of profanities in both languages made it hard to follow what they were saying in Spanish. Although the teens are proficient in both English and Spanish I was running by comical scenarios in my mind of how the kids from the concrete jungle, some who have never seen snow, would react to the new context. While we were on our hike up to Castle Rock some of the teens spotted the three-lettered inscription that is characteristic of gang tagging. They asked if there were gangs in Big Bear also. I would not have thought twice about what the significance of the spray paint on the rock meant had it not been for the teens. What a clash of worlds it was for them. The experience of the barrio connected to the forest. As I reflected more on the apparent differences between the worlds I became more convinced that they share more than they differ. On that note Arnold Berleant writes:

One can find a parallel between the momentary respite from immersion in the density of a city or wilderness either by the panoramic view from the observation deck of a skyscraper or a broad boulevard, or by the sweeping panorama one might obtain from a mountaintop, bluff, or tall tree. The aroma emanating from a bakery or restaurant might remind one of the odors of different vegetation or ground surfaces, such as pine needles or wet soil. The odor of decaying leaves or the effluvium of a marsh or swamp in the hot sun may resemble the smell of garbage containers on the sidewalk awaiting pickup or the exhaust of motor vehicles. Moving among buildings and along streets has some of the perceptual quality of moving among strands of trees and through openings in the vegetation. The background hum of traffic is reminiscent of the wind rushing through the trees when a front was coming through. Pushing one's way through a crowd resembles the experience of pressing through dense growth. Constant concern over making a misstep influences our passage through both city and wilderness, while the background apprehension of danger from motor vehicles and muggers parallels the constant threat, real or imagined, from the deadly creatures thought to inhabit the wilderness.

This is something that really struck me about the teens in general. My first impression of them is that they were tough as nails. I thought I would never get to see them become vulnerable always keeping an outsider like me at arms length. But what I found is that at their core, they are like any other teenager. When this became clear to me was when we went out on our hike to Castle Rock. 

Misadventure took its toll on the group early on the hike. We had hardly been hiking for five minutes and the group was all scattered like the dispersion, ice chunks were already being passed off as "snowballs" and one of the teens, David (not his real name) came cursing to the leaders complaining of a splinter ironically on his middle finger. David and Jeff (the leader of the crew) alike were determined to remove the parasitical plank of wood from the overused finger. Initially we tried to get at the splinter using only our hands. When we realized that the depth of the splinter was beyond our blunt fingers' capabilities we brought out the heavy artillery. Pocket knives and multi tools got volunteered from every leader you would have thought it was a magic show and everyone wanted to offer up their quarters for the trick. David was still loudly cursing like he was Aaron Rolston freeing his arm from its tragic position between a rock and a hard place. Persistent to not give up he would not let the leader stop. Eventually his cursing waned and his courage gained. After more minutes of tedious digging in his finger the elusive splinter finally was freed and somehow my mind saw the misfortune as an opportunity. I asked him, 

"David, do you think that you trust Jeff more now?" 

"Yeah, I do."

"Yeah you probably would have been pretty hesitant before this all happened to let Jeff fish around in your finger with a knife. I think that is like how God sometimes allows us to go through painful situations so that we can trust him more. We wouldn't arrive at the same level of trust in Him if we never went through painful experiences. So Danny, I want you to remember that when God feels distant in a situation."

"For sure, thanks." 

"Awesome let's press on."

And press on we did...slowly. Not without a few more near injuries however. When we finally reached the top of Castle Rock the view was magnificent. We ate lunch up on top of the rocks with the brisk wind bringing our picnic to a premature end. The teens had found a patch of snow that was in direct sunlight so that it was the perfect slushy consistency for making solid packed snowballs. Thus began a lengthy snowball fight. The feeling for me was ecstatic and I can only imagine that the teens in their rookie snow playing state were having a good time. I got somewhat bloodthirsty and could almost see a visible point system on the opponents’ bodies: 1 point for a leg shot, 5 for the chest, 10 for the face, and 500 bonus for hitting them so hard that there was a yard sale of gloves, hats and scarves. The fight lasted until everyone had frozen fingers and I called out a free-for-all-five-minutes. The descent down the mountain was met with more slipping, falling, and cursing. Nevertheless, spirits were high from the joy that boys can only get from hurting one another in a friendly fight.

Upon arriving back at the cabin my desire for being on the trails had not been quenched so I went out to find more of them on a run. I found them, and as I was coming back I was looking forward to a nice, hot shower. Upon arrival as the boys were heading down to the park to play a game of soccer. I was already warmed up and worn out but still played with them. Just about then the grey clouds rolled in making it colder still.  As we were playing Jeff called out I think it is snowing. At first I could see no sign of the “snow” but then eventually I caught a glimpse of the near microscopic flakes. The negligible trickle eventually broke the celestial dam and there were then giant flakes falling sideways so that one team was nearly blind from catching the snow in their eyes. The amazing thing about this was that there was no snow in the forecast. This anomaly was such an unexpected blessing for the teens, some of whom had never seen snowfall before. But even for me who grew up building snow forts, I had the same wonder about the intricate flakes of snow that landed on my shirt and slowly melted. They were all really different, but falling from the same cloud they were all essentially the same. Whatever our circumstances we are all that same kind of different. 

On Sustainability

The other day I was riding my bike around Boyle Heights. Now that is a daily occurrence but this day was a special event. I was dressed in business casual attire and I was on a mission. Well now you might be thinking, 'dressed up, riding a bike, mission...sounds Mormon to me!' I know, I sorta felt like a Mormon. But what I was doing was putting up posters at various businesses around Boyle Heights for Hollenbeck Christian Chapel (HCC). This is a church that Larry, the professor/homeowner/mentor figure to me is starting along with Calvary Chapel and Luis Salazar who is going to be the pastor of the church. The things that I admire most about Larry, the professor who owns and lives in the house that I live at are:


1. He is a visionary. I have seen on a limited knowledge of what the house looked like before he restored it. But what I do know is that it didn't look so hot. Now it is the envy of the neighborhood. He sees people and things and knows their potential. He does so within the context of being committed to what he does.
2. He is persistent. He sees the visions that he has and pursues them relentlessly.

That is something worth emulating.


On my mission I went to a few businesses around Boyle Heights and each was receptive to what I was doing and was more than willing to help out by having the poster on their storefront window. One stop I made was at Vicky's Restaurant. Vicky is our neighbor here and she is a sweet hispanic woman who speaks little english but communicates a kindness that transcends any language. Before I could even finish asking Vicky if I could put up a poster in the ventana she had me sitting down and had placed a big plate of chiles rellenados in front of me. I sat and ate with her son and with his friend and we talked about bikes and church and Boyle Heights. They seemed genuinely interested in attending the church. So I pray that we see them on Sunday night. I finished my dessert of some postre that I can only describe as a wonderful chewy and sweet flan-like pastry. But the taste that I had in my mouth as I mounted my bike to continue my "mission" was bittersweet.

There is but one word that has captured my attention in the recent weeks: sustainability. There are a lot of things that come to mind for different people when they hear the word sustainability, such as images of sustainably grown organic foods and sustainable energy sources. But I think that the definition of sustainability goes even deeper than issues having to do with the environment. Sustainable change, now there is an oxymoron. What is sustainable? Something that is sustainable is patient. Patience is a central quality to sustainability because when we live in the culture of instant gratification, there is no reason for waiting. When we are in a hurry eating we make choices to use plastic dishes and silverware and after we are done the remnants are discarded. Similarly, when we want results and when we are impatient in life we make decisions that unsustainable. But as I dine with my vecinos at Vicky's I had that bittersweet taste of knowing that this, this experience, this place is probably not permanent for me. I want nothing more than to say I will be here in this neighborhood for years and years but I am not convinced that my calling is to Boyle Heights. I know God can use me wherever I am but there is a great virtue in planting roots somewhere.

I kept riding and putting up posters at the places that I had on my list. There was a box on the checklist for:

 __ Wherever else you want, get creative

At that time it was right at dusk or "magic hour" in photography terms when the light over downtown is at such an angle that it creates brilliant colors and shadows. I decided that meant I should head back home. Wanting to put up one last poster I rode down first street in the luxurious bike lane painted in a bright, nearly glowing shade of green. The Homeboy Learning Center caught my eye...but I rode right by...and then doubled back once I gained enough courage. Homeboy Industries is a ministry that was started by a Catholic priest named father Gregory Boyle. His name coincidentally matches the place where he started his business/gang ministry. Both these characteristics: the gang members there and the catholic-ness of the ministry were what created the hesitancy in my mind to ask to put up a poster there. I went inside and the building came off as empty with no sign of activity other than a few lights on. I announced my arrival saying, "Hello?" with an older guero answering the call. I asked about the posters and he responded by saying that the learning center is a school and that he would take the poster and ask tomorrow if it would be alright to put it up given the public nature of schools. I half intentionally tried to get on his good side by saying that I loved father Boyle's book and his compassion and want to learn more about what Homeboy does (all of which is true FYI). I mean Father Boyle shows that kind of unfailing love that only comes from an encounter with the living Christ. So I left not knowing whether the poster would pass the inspection. I doubted it would pass the test knowing that the nature of hispanic churches is that they have a territorial nature. My thought was, 'oh well, at least I tried, hopefully I get at least a small pat on the back when I get to heaven.'

That bittersweet feeling of temporality makes me think about why it takes so long to create sustainable change in the community. The answer that I come up with is that facts are not just facts. Look at what Jesus did; he spoke in parables. In essence, he did not simply explain the truths about the kingdom of God, he told stories about the kingdom. People were not necessarily ready to hear the truths about the kingdom, so in order to create readiness for people to receive the truths he spoke in parables, in stories. Yeah this approach definitely took longer, but in the end what Jesus had done was create sustainable change. Some of us in the house were talking the other night about how we liked hymns, but even more than liking hymns, we liked hymns like Amazing Grace and It is Well that have epic stories that give the words of the song even deeper meaning. Stories involve wrestling with conflict. In the Psalms there are three categories of psalms: psalms of orientation, where God makes sense and his goodness is apparent, and then there are psalms of disorientation where God's ways seem to make no sense and his presence seems far off, and finally there are psalms of re-orientation where God has brought the psalmist out of the pit to a deeper trust in God. The psalmist most certainly understood why stories (characters overcoming conflict) create sustainable change.

God knew that one thing above all that was unsustainable for us as humans was keeping his law. You look through the Old Testament and you see a covenant with Abraham, Noah, David, and then finally we see that there is going to be a new covenant: an everlasting one.

Jeremiah 31:31-34 states:

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.”


Jesus also explains the sustainability of the work of the Holy Spirit to the disciples when they ask him,  "When the disciples heard [how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God], they were greatly astonished, saying, “Who then can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:25-26).

So that is what it comes down to; Jesus' work of regeneration in the earth happens through His Spirit working in His people. Jesus says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father"
(John 14:12 ESV). He says this knowing that when His Spirit is poured out we can be Jesus to everyone that we meet. In essence, because Jesus was just one man we can now be in more places than he could be, reaching far more people, in every nation, we can do greater things than his earthly ministry. Woah. What that means is that we need to be united in Christ to accomplish HIS purposes on the earth.

So the next morning I went out on a run on one of my regular routes over the LA river and through the concrete woods of downtown. My concentration while I am running wanders much more than my feet do and I have a hard time keeping a consistent flow of prayer. But on this day I remember just being thankful for the blessings that I continually receive and reflecting on choices I have to make about the future. As I was heading back up first street back into Boyle Heights and following the neon green bike lane I glanced at the Homeboy Industries window. There in plain sight was a bright blue poster soliciting members of the community to attend the inaugural service of Hollenbeck Christian Chapel! Needless to say that put a little spring in my step because of the sheer joy of seeing that what unites us in Christ can be stronger than the differences that divide us. To God be the glory.