Standing Vote

Most votes at the General Assembly are voice votes. If, after a voice vote, it is unclear whether the "ayes" or the "noes" have the majority, then a standing vote is taken.

One of this morning's resolutions concerned taking a stand against war. Because of the various nuances and interpretations such a resolution might imply, it was thought that this resolution might cause a heated debate and close vote. However, the assembly voted overwhelmingly to refer the resolution for further study.

Then came a resolution that proposed alternating between summer and fall General Assemblies. (Assemblies are currently held only in summer.) Adults and youth argued for and against this resolution, which was alotted 24 minutes of debate time (twice as long as most resolutions). The main question was: does having assemblies in summer make it harder for youth to go to camp?

During the debate, I was sitting next to a young man who I have counseled at camp numerous times. Next to him was his father, a pastor who has been actively involved in providing leadership at various church camps. When a voice vote was taken, the result was unclear, so a standing vote was called for. The ayes were asked to stand; I watched as the father stood, but the son did not. I leaned over to the son and asked, "are you going to cancel your father's vote?" With a sheepish grin, he said, "Yes."

In the end, the vote was to continue with only summer assemblies. That is how I myself voted, although there are certainly pros and cons to both sides of this issue.

Arriving in Indiana

Yesterday afternoon I arrived in Indianapolis for the General Assembly. Two days ago, I discovered that I would be sharing my flight with a pastor friend from southern California and her husband. Then, when we stopped in Denver for our layover, several church friends from northern California joined us, and we all journeyed the rest of the way to Indianapolis on the same flight.

Exiting the plane in Indianapolis, I almost didn't see the General Assembly logo on the floor of the jetway, even though I walked over it as I made my way into the terminal. In the terminal, I immediately ran into other friends I knew who had just arrived on other flights.

Last night, I stayed with friends. On the way to their house, I kept my eyes open, and sure enough, just as we were leaving the airport, I saw a giant billboard with the Assembly logo.

Behind their house is a small creek, and I enjoyed watching the lightning bugs as night fell. In conversation, we were discussing various restaurants in Indiana, when I mentioned that one or two fast-food places in California sell churros. "What are churros?" they asked. I thought they were joking, but they weren't. I lived in Indiana for 3 1/2 years when I was in seminary, but somehow never noticed that there are no churros here.

So, no churros. But they do have lightning bugs, which are pretty cool. And this morning, I saw something else that we don't have in southern California: wet stuff, falling from the sky. They call it rain.

Health Care Reform

Next week I will attend the General Assembly of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Indiana. This will be my fifth assembly.

One feature of these assemblies is debating and voting on resolutions concerning a variety of issues. Only once have I ever approached a microphone during debate to voice an opinion on one of these resolutions. It was during the 1999 General Assembly in Cincinnati, and the resolution concerned health care.

If I remember correctly, there were actually two assembly resolutions concerning health care that year. One encouraged Disciples congregations to support the church-wide health care. I believe this is the resolution I addressed. I said to the assembly that my church did not participate in the church-wide health care, which cost twice as much as other health care plans that were available to a young minister like myself. To participate in the church-wide health care program would have increased my compensation package to a degree that my small congregation would no longer be able to afford a pastor. I mentioned that this was just one example of the inequalities in our current health care system, in which only the rich could afford quality health care, and that we needed a bigger solution. I then referred to the other health care resolution, which concerned "health care for all," and which encouraged Disciples members to support government health care reform.

It's now ten years later, and health care reform is being talked about in Washington. So it is with interest that I read our General Minister & President Sharon Watkins' recent letter to the church on health care reform. Check it out here.

Routine

There are good routines in life, and not-so-good routines. I had been working on developing what I thought were some good routines: spending some time each morning working out, then reading scripture and praying (which I wrote about here and here), before eating breakfast. I was doing this nearly every day before heading to my office at church.

Then summer came.

The kids were out of school. That, in and of itself, posed little challenge to my routine. But when I took a week of vacation, which was followed by a week counseling camp, which was followed by a week of Vacation Bible School... well, so much for routine.

It took me almost a week to get back into the habit of doing pushups and situps in the morning. It took even longer for me to resume my morning prayer time. And, in case you haven't noticed, my blogging routine has also been off a little lately.

These are the good types of routines. When I'm in the routine of doing something, I'm much more likely to keep doing those things. Some mornings I don't really feel like exercising, but I do at least a short workout just to keep the routine. (I suppose another word for this type of routine is discipline.)

Then there are the routines that I want to break. One example would be when I return home at the end of the day via a different route than the one I took in the morning when I left the house. Some people have a routine of turning on the TV whenever they walk into their living room, even though they don't know what programs are on. That would be a good routine to break out of.

It takes awhile to develop a routine. When I started using reusable bags for grocery shopping, more often than not I would forget to bring the bags, or I'd bring them but accidentally leave them in the car. Now it's part of my routine. If I'm going to the store, I bring the bags.

It also takes awhile to break a routine. Some routines, in fact, last for generations, long after their effectiveness ends. I remember the story of one mother who was baking a ham for her family. As she prepared it, her daughter asked, "Why do you cut the ends off of the ham?"

"I don't know; that's just what my mom did," the mother replied. "Let's ask grandmother."

They call grandmother and ask her, and she replies, "Well, that's how my mom prepared ham. Why don't you ask her?"

So they call great-grandmother. "Great-grandma, why do you cut off the ends of the ham before you bake it?"

Great-grandma replied: "Because my pan is too small."

What are some of your routines? What routines would you like to have? What routines would you like to get rid of?

Next week, I'll be out of my routine once again, as I attend the General Assembly of my church. Assuming I'll have access to computers there, I'll share stories here while I'm away. Otherwise, you can follow what I'm up to on twitter, and I'll post stories here when I return...

Darkness

I'm currently in my second week of camp ... sort of. This week, it's Vacation Bible School, which I've heard referred to as a "day camp."

I'm more involved this year than I was last year; last year, I had only been here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church a few months, and was still testing the water. This year I plunged right in. I did this voluntarily, because a) it's fun, and b) it is perhaps the most significant on-site ministry we do with children all year long.

Nevertheless, it is time-consuming. So once again this week, there is no full-length (whatever that means) article. Instead, here's a picture I took of the teenager I recruited to help us re-enact the plagues inflicted on Egypt. He played the role of Pharaoh; here he is experiencing "darkness."

CYF 1 Campers: Do you know who this is?

cross-posted at www.fieldofdandelions.com and my facebook page.

The Tree

Before going to camp, I checked out a book from the local library about a man who talks with nature. I mean that literally. He has conversations with trees and animals, two-way conversations. I couldn't decide if the author was brilliant or mad.

(To quote Jack Sparrow, "it's amazing how often those two traits coincide.")

I couldn't bring myself to finish the book. It seemed just a little too far "out there" to me. And yet, at the same time, when I discovered that one of my favorite trees at camp had fallen since last year, I was sad. It was almost like losing a friend.

Here's the tree in a picture I took last year:

Drum Circle

A photo from Camp Loch Leven where I was on staff last week.

Learning to Fly

It's a quiet house this week. There are no legos or other toys scattered across the floor of the living room. The various children's items that are usually spread out on the dining table have been replaced by a flower vase.

Both boys are at camp this week.

Tristan is at Loch Leven, our regional church camp. This is the first year he is old enough to go for a full week, and he was very excited about it.

Ethan is at Camp Cherry Valley, a boy scout camp on Catalina Island. It's his first week-long boy scout camp, and he was very nervous about going.

A few hours after the boys left, Ginger and I sat down at the table for dinner. For several weeks, we had been looking forward to enjoying nice, quiet meals at home. We began to eat, but had trouble engaging in any dinner conversation. We've become so used to having such conversations interrupted or diverted during dinner, that we somehow couldn't figure out how to have one on our own.

I kept waiting for the interruption. The kids weren't here, but maybe the phone would ring. Did I want it to ring? I wasn't sure. All sorts of questions were floating around in my mind, most of them concerning Ethan, the child who was nervous about camp, the one who would be responsible for managing his type-1 diabetes on his own for a week. Would he be able to calculate his insulin dosages accurately? Would his blood sugar levels be in enough control for him to have an enjoyable week? Would the adults who are with him know what to do if Ethan needed help managing his diabetes, or--God forbid--his blood sugars get so off that he needs immediate medical attention?

Yes, maybe it would nice if Ethan called, just to ask how much insulin he needed for, say, the ice cream sandwich he bought at the snack bar.

I know some parents of kids with type-1 diabetes would be horrified that my wife and I have allowed our eleven year-old to spend a week at a place where he's responsible for his own diabetes care. Yes, there is a camp nurse; but we've not met nor spoken to her. We don't even know that the nurse is a "her;" it could be a "him."

In the movie Earth, which was released by Disney this spring, there's a scene in which some young birds are learning to fly. They jump out of the top of a tree and--well, as James Earl Jones narrates, "it's not so much flying as 'falling with style.'" (Watch this clip here.)

This week, I'm wondering what those parent birds were thinking when they sent their little ones off on their first flight. Were the parent birds terrified? After all, having their little ones jump out of the top of a tree when they can't really fly yet isn't exactly the safest thing to do. Were the parents worried? Were mama bird and papa bird tempted to just keep their little ones in the nest, where they'd be safe?

I know, I'm putting human emotions into animals, and that those parent birds didn't feel any of those things. Which is probably a good thing. If they had, those birds may have stayed safe inside the nest... they would have survived another day... but they would never have been allowed to live.

To live, one needs to take some risks.

Note: Next week is my week to go to camp, and it's likely I'll be taking the week off from blogging.