Today, Philip and I had a conversation about living more organically.
He is California road tripping with his best friend Ben as a final bachelor adventure. On the second day of their jouney, they stopped to see another friend, Daniel, who is participating in a program called Mission Year in Oakland. Basically, Daniel lives with four other young adults in an apartment and has become a contributing and relational part of the local community, through teaching and community service and talking to people he bumps into on the street.
After going to church together, the boys played disc golf and then went to a local market to buy dinner supplies. Philip told me that he suggested that to save time, they buy a tub of hummus, but everyone attacked him, insisting that the hummus be home-made. So they bought the individual ingredients for the home-made hummus and other Mediterrainian munchies and got to work cooking together. When they had finished, they enjoyed the fruits of their labor together and stayed up late into the night talking and watching a 25-minute Mission Year promo video Daniel and one of the other Mission Year guys had shot. Philip told me that they fed seven people for the price of two people to go out to eat somewhere, and it was "GOOD."
This is what I mean by organic. It's often spontaneous, but it's not rushed. It leaves space for "the plan" to evolve; it leaves space for conversation. It incorporates moving your body; it incorporates nature. It involves being together; it involves food with ingredients you can identify. Is is creative; it is musical; it is visual; it takes a little sweat and a little thought. It requires moving at a pace that allows you to hear God speak. When you live organically, you live with purpose, you live with laughter, you live with ever-growing humility and hope. You buy less; you throw away less. You walk more. You serve more. You dance more. You listen more; you ask more questions. You heart breaks more often. People become essential. Rest becomes essential. Prayer becomes like breathing.
Per our conversation, we decided that our first intentional action toward a living a more organic life will be to learn how to make home-made pesto. Pesto is one of God's greatest and most profound gifts, and what could be more Christ-like than carving out time to create it ourselves, with our bare hands, all-naturally, and then enjoy it with friends as we talk and laugh and connect into the night?
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Thursday, June 23, 2005
WEDDING VS. HONEYMOON
In the past week, two different people (both Christians, by the way) have commented to me that the honeymoon is more important to plan for and allot funds to than the wedding.
The first, a woman, reasoned that the family and friends who would attend the wedding and reception wouldn't appreciate all the effort and cash spent on throwing a great party for all of them to enjoy, so why bother? They'd just complain about the food or the wait service, so forget them. Spend your energy and money on planning a fun honeymoon, and make it about yourselves.
The second was a guy. Now, I understand that men, in general, are more excited about the honeymoon than the wedding itself, because nonstop sex in an exotic locale captures their attention more than frou frou bouquets and one-day-rental tuxes with backless vests. However, this guy I was talking to spoke in terms of "we," as in, both he and his (female) fiance agree that saving up money for the honeymoon and spending time planning it is a higher priority than the wedding itself.
Is it just me, or is that a little jacked up?
I'm not really one to think on the spot. No, I just kind of chuckle awkwardly and look at the floor if somebody says something that for whatever reason rubs me the wrong way. Then I think more about it later, come up with what I should have said, and then tell the blogosphere. So here it is.
Why do we get married? Is it so that we can jet over to Hawaii, play on jet skis, and swim with the dolphins? Do we invite others to our ceremonies just because they'll get ticked if we don't? Is the wedding just something to get over with, so that the real fun can start in the Heavenly Bed®?
No, we get married so we can become one, so God can supernaturally and mystically bind our lives and our bodies together for life; and we do it in the presence of witnesses who love us and who we want to share in the mystery and the joy. These are not pesky people whom we have to begrudgingly feed and entertain before we can get started on the fun stuff. We don't invite them because we're expected to. We invite them because their presence makes the experience deeper. And we include them by planning a meaningful ceremony that will engage their attention, by being involved in and prayerful about selecting the words that are said and the songs that are sung. We thank them and celebrate with them by throwing a great party, with beautiful decorations, delicious food, dancing, laughter, and hugs.
I'll go on lots of vacations with Philip, but I'll only marry him once. We'll travel the world over, but I'll only say "I do" one time. I'll wake up with him in paradise many times in the course of our life together, but I'll only bring all our loved ones together under one roof in the lovely, joyful, exciting occasion that is a wedding once in my life.
To me, all of that is worth spending the time and money on.
The first, a woman, reasoned that the family and friends who would attend the wedding and reception wouldn't appreciate all the effort and cash spent on throwing a great party for all of them to enjoy, so why bother? They'd just complain about the food or the wait service, so forget them. Spend your energy and money on planning a fun honeymoon, and make it about yourselves.
The second was a guy. Now, I understand that men, in general, are more excited about the honeymoon than the wedding itself, because nonstop sex in an exotic locale captures their attention more than frou frou bouquets and one-day-rental tuxes with backless vests. However, this guy I was talking to spoke in terms of "we," as in, both he and his (female) fiance agree that saving up money for the honeymoon and spending time planning it is a higher priority than the wedding itself.
Is it just me, or is that a little jacked up?
I'm not really one to think on the spot. No, I just kind of chuckle awkwardly and look at the floor if somebody says something that for whatever reason rubs me the wrong way. Then I think more about it later, come up with what I should have said, and then tell the blogosphere. So here it is.
Why do we get married? Is it so that we can jet over to Hawaii, play on jet skis, and swim with the dolphins? Do we invite others to our ceremonies just because they'll get ticked if we don't? Is the wedding just something to get over with, so that the real fun can start in the Heavenly Bed®?
No, we get married so we can become one, so God can supernaturally and mystically bind our lives and our bodies together for life; and we do it in the presence of witnesses who love us and who we want to share in the mystery and the joy. These are not pesky people whom we have to begrudgingly feed and entertain before we can get started on the fun stuff. We don't invite them because we're expected to. We invite them because their presence makes the experience deeper. And we include them by planning a meaningful ceremony that will engage their attention, by being involved in and prayerful about selecting the words that are said and the songs that are sung. We thank them and celebrate with them by throwing a great party, with beautiful decorations, delicious food, dancing, laughter, and hugs.
I'll go on lots of vacations with Philip, but I'll only marry him once. We'll travel the world over, but I'll only say "I do" one time. I'll wake up with him in paradise many times in the course of our life together, but I'll only bring all our loved ones together under one roof in the lovely, joyful, exciting occasion that is a wedding once in my life.
To me, all of that is worth spending the time and money on.
Monday, June 20, 2005
BAD BLOGGERS
Philip and I are bad bloggers. By "bad," I mean that we never blog. If you come here and want to read something new, I'm really sorry. My current excuse is that our wedding is in 39 days. THIRTY-NINE DAYS. Holy crap. I gotta go.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
HEAVEN AND EARTH
Last night, our twentysomething group from church had a wonderful time at our vespers service at Bethune Beach ("vespers" is an archaic word meaning "evening"). It just seemed that God was smiling on us the whole time. The weather was beautiful - sunny, with a robust wind - and the attendance was very surprising. We had new people come out, college kids who were back in town for the summer, and even our PASTOR'S family. I mean, I know pastors aren't super-stars, but to have the head pastor of the church come out to support an event felt significant. We had the perfect amount of food, and we even had a gifted guitar player named Aaron show up, so I didn't have to struggle my way through the chords of praise songs; I could just concentrate on leading the singing. And Philip did great at delivering the devotional message.
The sunset was almost mystical ... creamy ... it put me under a bit of a spell. There's nothing like a sunset over the beach. A group of us went for a walk all the way down to the National Seashore ... It must have been a couple miles. We talked as the waves washed over our feet and the stars slowly filled up the sky. The night was just one big amen ... friends and nature and food and coversation and worship ... it was joy.
However, upon returning to Orlando, Philip and I overheard something that made us instantly mourn. People very close to us had made a destructive decision that instantly sent our spirits into sadness. Then on my drive back to my house, I called my dad, who shared with me his discouragement over an ongoing situation with my grandma. The reality of life was heavy on me as I lay in my bed thinking.
While there are moments of extreme beauty and togetherness in life, there are also harmful choices, lack of self-control, and selfishness. Here in this life, we will always have to deal with the foolish things that we do, and that those around us do. There is just no escaping sin. And these situations are always complicated. They're not black and white; they're not isolated. They're messy and intertwined; their stories have multiple sides and ripple back through generations of problems. And as I thought through the two situations in particular that I was confronted with last night, my heart was low. I was confused about how I should respond. I was heartbroken for the people most directly involved. It was pain.
But I tried to recenter my thoughts on my evening at Bethune Beach, which had given me a slight taste of what heaven will be like ... when the scenery will always be breathtaking, when friendships will always be rich and fulfilling, when the food will be delicious, the ideas inspiring, the songs thunderous and moving. When there will be enough time to do the things you want to do. When there's no more mess or maintenance. When there's no more rushing ahead because there's no more waiting - it's all happening, right now, in surround sound on an IMAX screen. When we're in the presence of perfection, light, beauty, wholeness, goodness, power, life ... the very presence of GOD HIMSELF, in the flesh.
That's the hope I have as a Christian. That's what allows me to fall asleep peacefully and not despair over all the brokenness that surrounds me each day. That's what gives me a clue as to how to respond to difficult and painful situations ... and what allows me to enjoy a night like the one at Bethune Beach even more deeply and fully.
The sunset was almost mystical ... creamy ... it put me under a bit of a spell. There's nothing like a sunset over the beach. A group of us went for a walk all the way down to the National Seashore ... It must have been a couple miles. We talked as the waves washed over our feet and the stars slowly filled up the sky. The night was just one big amen ... friends and nature and food and coversation and worship ... it was joy.
However, upon returning to Orlando, Philip and I overheard something that made us instantly mourn. People very close to us had made a destructive decision that instantly sent our spirits into sadness. Then on my drive back to my house, I called my dad, who shared with me his discouragement over an ongoing situation with my grandma. The reality of life was heavy on me as I lay in my bed thinking.
While there are moments of extreme beauty and togetherness in life, there are also harmful choices, lack of self-control, and selfishness. Here in this life, we will always have to deal with the foolish things that we do, and that those around us do. There is just no escaping sin. And these situations are always complicated. They're not black and white; they're not isolated. They're messy and intertwined; their stories have multiple sides and ripple back through generations of problems. And as I thought through the two situations in particular that I was confronted with last night, my heart was low. I was confused about how I should respond. I was heartbroken for the people most directly involved. It was pain.
But I tried to recenter my thoughts on my evening at Bethune Beach, which had given me a slight taste of what heaven will be like ... when the scenery will always be breathtaking, when friendships will always be rich and fulfilling, when the food will be delicious, the ideas inspiring, the songs thunderous and moving. When there will be enough time to do the things you want to do. When there's no more mess or maintenance. When there's no more rushing ahead because there's no more waiting - it's all happening, right now, in surround sound on an IMAX screen. When we're in the presence of perfection, light, beauty, wholeness, goodness, power, life ... the very presence of GOD HIMSELF, in the flesh.
That's the hope I have as a Christian. That's what allows me to fall asleep peacefully and not despair over all the brokenness that surrounds me each day. That's what gives me a clue as to how to respond to difficult and painful situations ... and what allows me to enjoy a night like the one at Bethune Beach even more deeply and fully.
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