Post 2: Vacations Save Lives

I was sitting in prayer meeting the other day when it happened. I realized I really really need to take a vacation.

It happened like this.

I have three churches, which means I have three prayer meetings a week. The format for each is the same, but each church is very different. But that doesn't matter for this story.

I start prayer meeting, oddly, with prayer. I ask everyone for things they want to have prayer about. They can be needs, or praises, or thanks... whatever. I write them down to keep track of them, and then we can keep the list going from week to week.

Once we have a list for the evening, then everyone will say a short prayer for the things on our list.
After that is done, which can take anywhere from 30-45 minutes, we will have a bible discussion. A topic or bible passage/chapter will be decided on, then we will read and discuss. It's great because then it's not just me lecturing. Instead we are all learning from each other.

Anyway. We were doing the prayer request portion and it was getting to the point where no one had anything more to add. So I made the last call for requests.

Now, when I make the last call for requests, I give it a few seconds just to make sure no one has anything else to add. I don't want to cut anyone short. Prayer is the most important part of anything anyone can do in their service and relationship with God. I truly believe that will all of my being.
So, when no one spoke up, I let them know we were going to pray, Set down my list and started praying.

I got three words into it, when one lady... you know, the one who apparently is never allowed to talk anywhere else on the planet?, cause she never stops talking? ever?... that lady interupts me three or four words into the prayer and says that she has something else to add to the list. So, I stopped, she expounded about her request, as usual, and then I made another last call for requests. After no response, I start prayer, get about 3 or 4 words in, and again, she says she has another request.

Now, I'm thinking that this is a bit rude, but hey, it's prayer and if someone has something important to share, then it would be wrong to not let her bring before God publically. So I stop and let her give her request.

You are probably thinking that is pretty funny. But would you believe that she did that 2 more times after that before we finally got the prayer going?

I couldn't believe it. I was just sitting there dumbfounded. The last time she interrupted the prayer I yelled at her to shut up already and then I reached across the table and slammed her head right through it.

Ok, that is decidely not true.

However, I wanted to tell her to shut up. But instead I said something else and the tone with which I said it was probably just as bad. When was finished I looked her right in the eyes and said, "Is that all?"

She said, "I think so."

I said, "Are you sure?"

She said, "Yes."

I let my stare linger for a second, then I started prayer.

And it was at that precise moment, that I realized I really really needed a vacation.
I didn't show it outwordly so much, but inside, I was furious. This lady never shuts up unless she gets interrupted. Otherwise, you wait for her to breath, then jump in. And I had just had enough of it.
I've never come that close to losing it with a church member. Even her. She is actually an extremely sweet lady. She doesn't get to talk to people much, and she is always cheery. She didn't deserve my anger.

And I knew it. Even as I was seething inside, I knew it. What was making me mad wasn't her talking. It was the fact that she was slowing me up and I wanted to get it over with already and get home.

And that is WHY I needed the vacation.

When suddenly the very thing you are called to do is an inconvenient annoyance, then something is clearly wrong. I have dealt with people are much more rude and much more annoying, and I've never even hardly so much as blinked at it. But that day I just didn't have it in me.

I was forced to ask why.

This week while I was writing my sermon, I got the answer. You know what's great about working for God? Even as I am trying to teach and help others, God is teaching me even more. It's amazing.

It's humbling.

The answer. It revolves around two words.

"Healing" and "Wings".

There is a story in the book of Matthew about a woman who had a bleeding disorder for twelve years and knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to talk to Jesus, decided that if she could just touch the edge of his cloak, she would be healed.

She did. And, she was.

Let me give you two more words. "Tsitsit" and "Kanaph".

Tsitsit is Hebrew for "fringe or tassel". Kanaph is Hebrew for "corner, edge or wing."

You see, all Jewish men were to where a cloak or covering with tassles on it's wings. The edges of these cloaks were called wings because when a Jewish man prayed, they were to put this cloak, or prayer shawl, over their head, lift their arms up and pray. And when they did, the shawl hung off their arms like wings. So they prayer shawl had tassles on it's wings because God told them to make that way back in the book of Numbers, during the time of Moses.

By now you are wondering what the point is, and will I ever get there? Fair enough.

Jesus, being a law biding Jewish Rabbi would have been wearing one of these. This is important, because in the book of Malachi, the prophet Malachi made a prediction that the Messiah(son of righteousness) would come. And when he did, he would have "healing in his wings." The word for wings there is the same word used for the wings of the shawl. The prophecy of Malachi became a story and legend that the Jews remembered.

So now we fast forward to this bleeding woman. She knows that this man Jesus claims to be the Messiah. And she knows that the prophet Malachi said that the messiah would have healing in his wings. Therefore, if this is true, then all she needs to do is touch the edge of his prayer shawl, his "wings", and she will be healed.

And she was. She showed that she truly believed that this man was the fulfillment of Malachi's prophecy. Many others did, also, because it is mentioned in both Matthew and Mark that many people would come and touch the tassles on his wings and be healed or made whole.
And it's at this point where God taught me something. I had already read about the tassles and the wings and the prophecy of Malachi. But as I was reading these texts in Greek and Hebrew, I saw something I did not expect to see.

In Mark, where I just said that people would come and touch his wings and be healed, the word used there for "healed" is the greek word "sozo."

There is only one problem. The word "sozo" really doesn't mean "healed." It actually means "saved." Literally saved.

The definitions of the word are "saved, salvation, kept from destruction, preserved." It didn't make sense to me. Then I realized that Mark was telling us that everyone who touched Jesus "wings" were saved. They had salvation. They weren't just healed physically, they were healed mind, body and soul. Every fiber of their being was effected.

Jesus told the bleeding woman to go in peace. The Hebrew word for peace is Shalom. But Shalom doesn't just mean the absence of conflict. It means "to be covered in the goodness of God. To be covered with his wholeness and completeness." He told her to go in the completeness of God. He told her that she was now changed mind, body and soul.

Because the Messiah has healing in his wings.

The Messiah has salvation in his wings. To be healed by Jesus is to be saved.

I gave that to my people as part of my sermon. But that sermon was actually for me.

As I mentioned in the last blog, it's been a long year for me. And what I keep forgetting is that, I'm still healing. And I don't mean just physically. Everything I am has been altered. And I'm still adjusting. And I'm still changing. I was saved from death.

And I'm still being saved.

And that is just my story. It's easy to know better. But knowing something isn't the same as believing something. People will go through things in their lives, and when they come through the other side of it, they will think they have finally finished, or that they have arrived.

But it's never true. And I fell into that trap. I was feeling fantastic. My mind was working better. I was feeling like things were getting to be as they should again. And then I realized they weren't.
I was so focused on healing physically, I forgot to deal with the rest of me that needed to heal. And as it turns out, the physical wounds are the easiest to deal with.

True healing is a total, holistic experience. And apparently, I'm much farther from being whole than I thought. But as long as I understand that, it's ok. Because my healing is in Jesus hands.

And Jesus has salvation in his wings.

What kind of healing are you looking for?

Post 1: Me, But Not Me.

Blog. Sounds like something the Swedish Chef from the Muppets would say. And by it's nature is almost as difficult to make out. One word, but an infinite number possible fulfillments. Should I blog about my house? My job? My zit? Someone elses zit?

God? Yes, yes. I'm sure you figured that's where I'm going. "We all know you are a pastor now, so clearly you are going to spout on endlessly about God.

Probably. But not this time.

Oddly, not even for my first official myspace blog. But I'm sure I'll get there eventually. It is what I do, after all.

As with all things in my life, I feel God does weigh in, in some way. But tonight I'm going to blog about me.

"Well, isn't someone all full of themself?" I hear you say.

Touche'.

But it's not that kind of self rambling. I've been trying to come to terms with something over the last 4.5 months. Some of you, but not all, know that I've had cancer. Twice. Once over four years ago, and again this year. Four years ago I went through surgery and radiation. This year I did chemotherapy.

Cancer immediately brings to mind visions of death. And that's one of the top issues you deal with when your doctor tells you that you have cancer. But this isn't about that. I dealt with that four years ago. The prospect of immanent death doesn't bother me. It's not because I'm brave. I'm a coward. It's because I'm a realist. I know where I stand. And I understand the reality of my reality. (this is the part where I tell you all kinds of things about God, and how I dealt with death, and blah blah blah. That's for another blog.)

Chemotherapy causes incredible physical discomfort. It was easily the most horrible experience of my life. And it lasted for four months. Five days a week, every fourth week. My doctor said it like this. "You are young and we are playing hardball here. It's going to suck."

He wasn't wrong.

But this isn't about that either. (however, you do notice how I'm trying to draw you in and gain your sympathy... is it working?)

Before chemo, I was witty(a lie), handsome(another lie), funny and charming(also both lies). Well, at the very least, laughing came easy, I socialized easily, and I was decent at keeping a conversation going.

But now, I'm different. The wit is gone. Being charming and funny and clever... it's become hard work. I used to be goofy. Now it takes effort to be who I was.

All because, for some reason, I no longer am. And even when I try, I don't always succeed.
One could argue, "Well, you've gone through a traumatic experience and that changes people."
Perhaps.

However, it hasn't changed my outlook on anything. I had already dealt with all the issues that come with near death and trauma. No, this is something else. Chemo is basically poison injected directly into your veins. So, I have no doubt that I lost more than a few brain cells. I know it has effected my short term memory in a significant way.

But it's also changed who I am on a fundamental, psychological level. My wife has noticed. However, she was kind enough to not say anything. But I noticed also. I find myself doing things that I have always done, interacting as I've always tried to, but now, it's as if I'm just watching it happen from the inside. I have to force the smile more. Witty comment doesn't flow right. It's as if I'm an actor playing me.

Then suddenly, and unexpectedly, I'm normal for a while. It comes in short bursts. In certain situations, it comes back, and I'm me again. But it never lasts.

If I were counciling someone like this, I would probably conclude it was situation depression of some sort. The only problem is, I'm happy. My life is no more stressful than normal. My wife is great. My home is great. I still love my work. I'm probably closer to God than I've ever been.
And yet somehow, I'm often much more apathetic than I would normally be. And knowing it's true does nothing to change it. I don't feel bad. I just feel different. It's palpable. The emotion is there, but somewhere between the inside and outside it dissapates.

I'm happy about my level of health right now. I love my life. But now I'm a different person.

Me. But not me.

And I haven't decided if I like the new me yet. The new me isn't as fun. He's harder to use. Unwieldy. Clumsy. He didn't come with an instruction manual.

Most people don't notice. The witty flows if I force it out. The funny is there when it needs to be, but it's no longer natural.

I find myself living for the moments when I feel normal as I used to be. In those periods of time, it's easy again. I don't have to work hard for everything. Socializing, smiling...

Thinking.

Ha. Now this is strange. I was just realizing how depressing this all sounds. And it made me laugh. That's probably not normal. But I suppose that is just me. All throughout my treatments, I kept having odd situations present themselves that even my oncologists considered unlikely and rare. And now that I'm done with the chemo and cancer, I'm still having things pop up. Apparently I have a genetic abnormality that puts me at risk for Hemochromatisis. A condition that causes the body to absorb more Iron from food than it should. He checked for it cause my iron is high. My doctor recognized the strange nature of being me when he said, "well, it could be Hemochromatosis, or it could be residual side effects from chemo. You have the gene for Hemochromatosis, but you have the gene that is least likely to cause it. But then again, you're wierd."

I really like my doctor. He doesn't sugar coat stuff. He's a realist, like me. We get along great. He asked me to perform his sons wedding. It was pretty darn cool.

But I digress.

My parents were here this weekend. And it was all I could do to be conversational. It was hard all weekend. I just couldn't get it to click. And it showed. My wife just thought I was in a bad mood. But I wasn't. I was happy. I was glad they were there. I hadn't seen them since May. But it was hard. I just couldn't get into the groove.

They left today, and it was during this time that I realized that I was no longer sure who I was anymore. I don't mean as a Christian and my service to God. I don't ever question that anymore. Perhaps the nature of the service, sure. But I did that anyway.

But I mean, me. My personality. What makes me, me. The old Tony doesn't really exist anymore. And the new Tony... I don't know about him yet.

Why do I share this with all of you who may read this? Maybe in part because it's cathartic. It's good to get things off ones chest from time to time. It's the down side of my life now that it's not always appropriate for me to share whatever is on my mind. Although you wouldn't know it to listen to me. I usually talk first and think later.

But I'm also sharing this for another reason. This is where I bring up that God guy again. People have this idea that pastors are just perpetually blissful and oblivious to reality. They don't understand what the suffering of normal people is all about. Pastors are either about perpetual hope or they pound fire and brimstone. Either way they are detached from reality.

Some(many?) are.

They think they have answers for everything. They think they have it all figured out, and because they work for God, they are either better than everyone or more privilaged than everyone else.

That's so much crap.

I can't even figure out my own experience completely, I won't even insult anyone else by thinking I know what theirs has been like.

I keep running into people who are trying to figure out their life just like i'm trying to figure out mine.(That'd be everyone...) Some keep telling themselves the same biblical answers, hoping that they will start to believe it. Others don't even have answer to try to believe.

I was sitting in a meeting with a group of pastors. And don't get me wrong, I work with some really good people. But there was some talk about people just like you and me. People trying to figure out what happened to their life. And one of them commented on how that was such a great opportunity for us to share some of our beloved doctrine and truth.

And I thought to myself, "Are you freaking kidding me?" Some poor guy is trying to figure why his life took the turn it did, and I'm suppose to run over tell him about how great the sabbath is? Or the lady who is standing in front of her fathers coffin, and I'm suppose to tell her what I think the bible teaches about dead people?

It was the most ridiculous thing I had heard in at least... well... propabably at least a day. You'd be surprised at the things people say to me. But the point is this. I'm trying to figure out me. But, it's my job to help people who are messed up just like me. How can I know about me, and try to give them something that isn't even relevant for them? How can I presume to think that what matters to me, matters to them?

I'm going to try to put out a blog from time to time. And I shared all of this with you, all of the gloom and messiness of my life, so you can know that I know better. Not that I am better. Just that I won't insult you. Everyone wants something in their life that means something. Something relevant. And I want my blog to be useful in some way. I want to share things that are relevant. Share things that have meaning.

To me. To you.

If anyone actually reads this, well, I really am as crazy as I sound. Next time, it will be funnier. Wittier. I don't want to depress people. But it will always be honest and straight to the point. And if you want or need to hear about something, let me know. I'll answer questions. Or I'll listen. Whichever. Maybe we can be useful to each other.

Till then.

Greetings and other fancy "hello" type words.

Hi.

So here it is, my first official blog for the second time.

I sense a contradiction somewhere but the source eludes me.

I say "second time" because I have been posting blogs on my MySpace page. So, not really my first blog ever. It's actually my fifth blog ever. Not really saying much, is it?

But now, I have set up this dedicated blog page so I can ramble on meaninglessly to my hearts content. Actually, I hope that's not true at all. I hope everything on this page has meaning to somebody. Somebody besides me, that is.

I am going to repost my previous blogs from MySpace. Mostly because i'm lazy. I really don't want to have to rewrite and edit them. So I am giving you fair notice that if you see references to myspace and other things that suggest inside knowledge, this is why.

Since this is my fifth, there will be four that will come next. They will be titled using words that look strikingly similar to these. "Me, But Not Me." "Vacations Save Lives." "Meaning Beyond The Con." and, "The Pursuit."

Within these blogs you will probably discern a few things about me. I'm a pastor. Wait, don't run away. At least give this a chance. Please? I know there are probably many of you who are of the opinion that the last thing you want is some bible thumper shoving fistfulls of God down your gullet. I'm not that guy. Don't get me wrong. I like God and I will be talking about God. But I've only been a pastor since June of 2006. That means before that I had a real life in the real world doing normal things. I would like to think that the stuff that is said on this page has more to do with life in a realistic, relevent, rubber-meets-the-road, life-is-messy sort of way.

If you read the next four posts, you will get the idea of what I'm peddling.

I welcome comments. I welcome questions.

Ok, I'll shut up. The next post really says what I'm trying to say here, anyway, and it even gives one or two reasons why. Enjoy, and maybe I'll even hear from you.

Till then, may death not catch you napping...