why I’m giving up showers for lent

 

Awesome – I lured you in with my ridiculous blog title. Now let me explain so you don't think I'm throwing hygiene out the window until April 5. True, I won’t be showering in the Lenten season, but I will be changing the way I bathe.

I was in Liberia for 3 weeks in 2012 to facilitate an engineering summer camp for local high school students. Liberia is one of the most impoverished nations in the world, and you might imagine that folks there generally don’t have access to indoor plumbing. Ok, we did stay a few nights at a guest house in Monrovia which had gravity fed shower system, but most of the time, we bathed in the time honored tradition of bucket showers, and this is how most of the population stays clean.

The idea is simple. You fill a bucket, and that’s all the water you get to use for your bath. I was a bit apprehensive of the idea, but to my surprise, it’s really enough water to completely clean yourself! Taking bucket showers in my American shower stall is a fast that’s been on my mind literally since the day I got back from Liberia and took my first hot shower with running water.

Why would I do this for Lent?

I take indoor plumbing for granted. You too? This engineering marvel (maybe miracle?) delivers clean, temperature-throttled water by the simple turn of a knob. I use it every single day and rarely think once, let alone twice, about it. Though I will still fill my bucket using indoor plumbing and not pumping from a well a half mile away, I will have an opportunity to pause and appreciate it. I hope this can also be a way to be in solidarity with my friends in Liberia and other places in the world who don’t have access to running water.

I like the idea of conserving resources. According to USGS, showers can use water at the rate of 2.0-2.5 gallons per minute. My bucket is about 3 gallons, and I know there is no way I have ever showered in less than 2 minutes, which means I’m using a lot of water with a normal shower.

I want to connect with the elements. During the imposition of ashes today during Ash Wednesday Service, I was especially struck by the phrase “from the dust you came, and to the dust you will return.” I think it could also be argued (both theologically and scientifically) that “from the waters you came, and to the waters you will return.” For me, scooping water out of a bucket will be a deeper connection with that element than just submitting myself to the blast that comes from the shower head.

These are just the implications I can imagine now. I hope and pray that this affects and transforms me in ways that I can’t even begin to imagine. Fasting can do that, and taking time to invest in the Lenten journey can do that.

Best wishes and God's blessings on your journey to the cross and the empty tomb, however you plan to observe it. This day and all days, remember that from the dust you were formed, and to the dust you will return. Your life is fragile, precious, and important. But, you’re just a speck – don’t take yourself too seriously. I'll try to do the same.

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.
Genesis 1:1-2 NRSV

training memories: beets and kale

This is guest blog I wrote for The Book of Fellows, the blog for United Methodists Young Adult Missionaries. Check it out and see what my peers are up to and thinking about! The image below is an original digital collage created by searching Google for images of "beets and kale" and taking a screenshot of the result.

Nearly one year ago, I started training as a missionary. I was in the process of passing off, dumping off, and shrugging off 6 years of grad school and entering into something completely new.

During training, I entered into relationship and covenant with 28 other amazing young adults who are committed to serving God and all people. We spent 3 weeks together where we bonded over many things. One of them was food.

Much of our training took place at Stony Point Center, a retreat center in New York. Stony Point has an organic farm, and a good amount of the food they served for meals came from the farm.

As farming goes, certain crops become ripe and ready at particular points in time. For us, two staples were beets and kale. On our first day, we savored all of the ripe food, plucked from the earth hours earlier, cooked, and delivered to our dinner plates. With food that fresh, I swear you could taste the sunshine it bathed in as it grew. Over the next few days, there was plenty more, and also prepared differently for variety. “Beets and kale again? Yes please!”

By the end of training, we were pseudo-prophets, predicting what vegetable duo would be served to us that day. We groaned, both because our taste buds longed for something different and because someone told another bad beets and kale joke. We beatboxed, not using the phonetics “boots and cats,” but instead “beets and kale.” These common vegetables became legendary.

Near the end of our training, we reflected on the entire experience. As much as we remembered about justice, spiritual health, living in community, and many others, we could not shake “beets and kale” from our minds. It went on the summary list.

In an epiphany moment, I tied it back to my own story. I had been living a beets and kale kind of life. I plugged away at the same old thing day after day, not really loving it and not really sure where it was taking me. The chance to serve as a missionary changed everything. I got to leave that old life behind and go on an exciting journey that God called me to.

July is a mad season for Generation Transformation Young Adult Missionaries in the UMC. My missionary class closed year one and enters year two of service, the class before us finished their term, and the new class of missionaries was recently trained and commissioned in the Philippines.

In this season, how will we choose to leave behind the ordinary, the mundane, and the everyday beets and kale in exchange for the abundant life promised to us by Christ? Can we leave behind everything we want in order to follow the One who promised everything we need?

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’ And immediately they left their nets and followed him.
Mark 1:16-18 NRSV

fatal error

Before the title gets anyone too worked up, let me say, no one died that I know! Just my computer. Last night, my computer let me know:

McAfee Endpoint Encryption
Fatal Error: [0xEE020006] Getting disk info

Good times, great oldies. So, in lieu of the prose I had planned on posting, which is safe and sound on my computer's hard drive, you get this one that I'm making up on the spot. Oftentimes it's good to leave the Spirit some room to work.

I could spin this a million cliche ways - look how much we (I) rely on technology, take life's speed bumps in stride, this could be a God-given gift of patience testing, I shouldn't complain because there were people who slept outside in the single-digit cold last night, etc. I think those have all been written.

Well, this could be cliche too, but I'm going to go with it. I'm really hoping this is just a software problem, because if so, I should be able to recover my files and start fresh. My computer was starting to feel bogged down and sluggish, burdened and distracted by many things. This fatal error, this death, could be an opportunity to start fresh and new. The old life has died, and a new life, washed clean, can replace it. I think that's the opportunity Christ offers us.

What old life, old ways, old states-of-being is God calling us out of, and how will we respond? Will we respond immediately as the disciples did in Matthew 4?

Let's listen closely for God's call today.

 

silly questions

Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.”
John 6:26

Merry Christmas!

This post is going to be like time travel – written on the bus on Saturday, posted on Wednesday. On Saturday morning, I awoke at the early (late?) hour of 4:45am to begin my trek home for Christmas vacation. Traveling by bus is one way I’ve given in to simple living. It’s a release of control compared with having a car – I don’t get much choice as to when I leave, who I ride with, how much stuff I bring, or what temperature the cabin is. Door to door, it’s about 11 hours of travel instead of 6 by car. DC bus to Union Station (oops, bus didn’t come, I had to walk); Megabus to Philadelphia; 2 hour layover; Megabus to State College via Harrisburg; car ride to Brockport.

On the other hand, it is very freeing. There is a lot of time for reflection, reading, and even writing a blog post. While in Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station (pictured) waiting to change buses, I got the opportunity to hang out and chat with a panhandler (not homeless – he had an apartment) for 20 minutes or so. That’s the first time I’ve ever had someone ask me for money and then walk away because they had other things to do!

I read the above scripture during one of my times of waiting. It grabbed me. Earlier in John 6, John records Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000. After everyone had eaten, Jesus slipped away quietly, sensing the desire of the people to “take him by force and make him king.” The next day, the people traced Jesus’ path and caught up with him. “When did you come here?” they wanted to know.

One of the fun things for me about John’s version of the Gospel is that Jesus almost never answers questions directly. I’ve read or heard somewhere that Jesus is so sensitive that he sees through these superficial questions and answers the question that is actually on the hearts of people. Jesus knows that when he came to Capernaum across the sea is not important. The more important question is: why are they are so drawn to Jesus?

I imagine them, and even myself, answering, “Dude, you took five dinner rolls and two cans of tuna and fed 5,000 of us! And we got to take home leftovers!” (Sidenote: I love leftovers)

“Nope. Pretty cool, but actually, you were hungry, and I fed you.” Seeing a miracle is pretty amazing, but having a hole in your soul filled is way better.

Jesus didn’t just give them something to eat to fill their bellies. Manna, the flaky bread-like substance that God provided for the Israelites in the wilderness, is pretty amazing. Jesus – the bread of heaven, God incarnate, walking among us and with us, showing us new ways to live, living and dying to reconcile us to God – is way better. “When did you come here?” now seems like a silly question!

Let’s keep asking God silly questions though. We might not be able to get to the tougher and more important ones on our own.

I hope your Christmas and holiday season has been everything you needed and everything God wanted for you, and that 2013 treated you well. I know it’s been a trip for me. Thank you for your continued support, including reading my blog!

Come, Lord Jesus. Reign in this world; reign in my heart. Merry Christmas!

it's just a coat (or is it?)

My first dilemma: it's getting cold in Washington, DC and winter is on the way. I have a winter coat which is fairly warm, waterproof, and overall, reasonably functional. On the other hand, it is also a bold blue and white ski jacket that I've had since college (at least 7 years ago). I wouldn't exactly blend in on Capitol Hill or walking around the city with seminar groups. So, if I got a more professional looking coat, basically just to fit in with the in-crowd, would that make me materialistic? My mom and a handful of other people more or less said, "no, it's important to look presentable" so I'm going to take that as a sign that getting a new coat might be an ok thing. I'm still a little uneasy about it, especially after recalling Luke 12:22-31, but let's put that dilemma on the backburner and assume getting a new coat is an acceptable thing for me to do.

My second dilemma: the act of buying a new coat. My checklist: warm, waterproof (I bike, walk, or bus to work), and professional-looking. Mom told me it should match my pants (whatever that means) (yes, Mom still helps me shop for clothes because it's something that exhausts me). It would be great if it is also responsibly made. There's a redeeming factor for buying a new coat - it could lead to opportunities to raise awareness about responsibly made goods.

My first thought was "sweatshop free," and my next thought was American Apparel. I remember talking about the company in Bible study back in Michigan. They have a couple stores in downtown DC and they have some coats listed online which look to fit the bill. They are a bit pricier than I would generally pay (coats in the ~$150 range), but responsibly made means you pay a legitimate price for a product instead of the product being subsidized by low wages. I actually read large pieces of their "About Us" page and felt good about their business model and corporate attitude. I came across a small part of their page which talked about a line of products they have made with organic cotton. Whoa. I wasn't even thinking about where the raw materials came from. As far as I can tell, they don't tout any coats having been made from responsibly sourced materials. Maybe I should poke around on the internet and see what else I can find, just for fun-zies.

I found it difficult to find clothing, especially outerwear, made from responsibly sourced materials. I did come across Patagonia. The way they keep shop really blew me away, both from the standpoint of intentionality and also humility. Workers taken care of? Check. Organic cotton? Check. Some fabrics made from recycled plastic bottles? Check. Black Friday ad saying "Don't buy this jacket"? Check. Inspiring. The cost of a winter coat? We're talking about $500.

To quote the founder of Patagonia, "Living the examined life is a pain in the ass." Yes, Yvon Chouinard, it is a pain in the ass.

To formalize my dilemma, $500 is a real stretch on a missionary budget. $150 is doable, but is buying just to the level of responsibly manufactured really worth the premium? Maybe I should just go for one of the $50 coats I found with my family over the weekend?

After agonizing over it for a few days, here's where I land. I think we have the responsibility to do the best we can with the resources we have. In Luke 12:34, Jesus tells us "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." We ought to put our two cents (or $500) into places we can believe in, insofar as our finances permit. Not all of us have the resources to buy the most responsibly made products. Plenty of people make way less than I do and just need something warm on their back that looks respectable. But some, even many, of us can choose to support companies who are oriented in a way that respects God's creation. When there is a market need for something, companies will be looking to fill it.

Disclaimer: this is approached from a personal responsibility perspective and doesn't address the more socially or systemically based question of why everyone can't afford clothes that are generated sustainably. Maybe someday I'll have ability to try that one, but I'm not there yet. I think I will say that it isn't enough to consider only individual or social responsibility, but both together.
 

Farewell, Michigan

Living simply lesson #1: I have too much stuff. Somehow, I knew it before packing, but as I emptied out the closets and cupboards of the old 1034 mancave after five years of accumulating, it seemed the rooms filled up faster than the storage spaces emptied. Was this some kind of crazy twist on the fish and loaves account in Matthew? How could I have so much stuff that my team of five dapper lads could barely squeeze it all into a pickup truck and my car?

Packing felt awful. Having to scrounge and dumpster dive for empty cardboard boxes. Thrice. Missing out on some last drops of quality time with friends because I had to pack.

On the other hand, it felt wonderful to leave all of my furniture behind, give a box full of plates to a friend, and take a pile of things to my church to donate. Feeling bad to squirrel away, feeling good to give away. Things look so much different in the Kingdom.

I packed up and shipped out just over a week ago now. Leaving was hard. I was already pulling out of the parking lot when I realized that day would hold my last Sunday worship at Ann Arbor First and the last time I would see my many cherished Michigan friends in a long time. The door had shut on my apartment of five years by the time I realized it would likely be the last time I would walk through it. Driving down Route 23, I realized it could be the last time I would make that five hour drive (not that I'll miss the Ohio Turnpike too much). Michigan, it's been real!

Behind, I leave the whips and chains/Before me spreads sweet Freedom's plains/Farewell, farewell