Time off

I'm taking some time off this week; the kids are on Spring Break, and we're doing some day trips and a camping trip.  I'll be back next week.

Riding a Bike, Train, or Bus: Can it Be Cool?

The other day, while I was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes, I heard an interview on Marketplace with Stephen Dubner.  His conversation with Kai Ryssdal focused on "conspicuous convservation," in which people particiate in eco-friendly activities in order to show off how much they care about the environment. 

One thing Dubner said in particular caught my attention:

The Prius is the king of the hybrids. Now it's not necessarily because it's better than other hybrids; according to the Sextons, it's because the Prius has this unique shape which screams "hybrid," which screams "I love the earth more than you love the earth." Now, if you live in a community that cares a lot about the environment -- somewhere like Boulder, Colo. -- that's worth something.

Well, I started wondering about that.  In a place like Boulder, hybrids have a special "coolness" factor, and so a car that "screams" that it's a hybrid is going to do better than a car that is just as good - and just as eco-friendly - but looks more like any other car.

In other words, the Prius sells better because it has a coolness factor that other hybrids don't have.

The Marketplace conversation seemed to paint this negatively, emphasizing that some people make earth-friendly decisions only because it's cool; or, in the business language of Marketplace, because it's "worth something."

My wandering mind then started wondering about how that applies to my own mode of transportation.  When Stephen Dubner asked Kai Ryssdal what kind of car he drove, I thought of the kind of car I drove.  And actually, the "car" I drive most often is my bike. 

Here in Long Beach, bikes are starting to acquire some measure of "coolness" among the general population.  At a community meeting I attended recently, Long Beach City Manager Pat West talked about the city's master plan for bikes, a plan which is helping to make Long Beach "the most bike-friendly city in America."  West made frequent references to the fact that bicycling in Long Beach is for everyone, not just "guys in tight black shorts." 

Make of that what you will.  It does seem to me, however, that perhaps cycling is on its way to reaching a critical level of "coolness" in Long Beach, and when it does, everyone will ride a bike at least some of the time, not because they care about the environment or their health or the cost of gas, but simply because they want to be seen as "cool."

That, in my opinion, won't be such a bad thing.

Earlier this year a local NPR station - on its facebook page - invited folks to offer suggestions that would make public transportation in LA County better.  I left my own comment, suggesting that Metro work to make riding its buses and trains more fun.  Perhaps what I meant to say was "more cool."  At Disneyland, people ride the monorail not just to get from one place to another, but simply because it's fun and cool.  Why is a round trip on the Disneyland monorail cool, while a trip to downtown L.A. on the Blue Line isn't?  Seems to me that a ride on the Blue Line could be made to be fun, with not a whole lot of effort, and the costs of making the trains cool and fun to ride would be offset by the increase in riders.

Maybe someday riding public transportation will be cool enough that it will be "worth something" to people to be seen riding public transportation.  They'll ride buses and trains and ride their bikes simply because doing so screams "I love the earth more than you love the earth." And those who are stuck in freeway traffic will wish they were riding a bus or train, instead of the other way around.

Where many of my trips begin.

Just Like Camping

When our next-door neighbors moved away and left behind their fire bowl, we decided to put it to good use.  This past weekend alone, with warm spring weather, we enjoyed two evening weenie roasts, one with some neighborhood kids, and another with some high school youth from church. 

On Friday night, when this picture was taken, the sky was clear, and a rising almost-full moon was startling in its beauty.  On Sunday night, the celestial lights were hidden behind the fog that had come in from the Pacific Ocean. 

Several of the kids said with smiles on their faces:  "this is just like camping!"  They laughed and talked with one another.  It didn't even seem to bother them that they had to put down their portable electronic games in order to roast their hot dogs.

13 Secrets Your Pastor Won't Tell You

Articles that share thirteen things or "secrets" seem popular lately.  I'm not sure, but I think they started with Reader's Digest, or maybe they were just popularized there.  Anyway, it made me wonder if there are thirteen secrets that pastors don't/won't share.  Below you can read thirteen secrets I thought of off the top of my head, although to call them "secrets" may not be quite right, since I'm sharing them with you.  Also, I found it hard to be as snarky or whiny as many of the "13 Secrets..." lists I've seen, which, I think, is a good thing....

1. Sermon feedback is always appreciated, even when it's negative.  I want to be the best preacher I can be, and feedback helps.  I may not always follow your advice, especially if it contradicts other advice I've received, but I will listen.
2. Sometimes I preach a sermon I'm not satisfied with.  I won't tell you this, though, because I've had too many people tell me that a sermon I thought was lousy contained just what they needed to hear that day.
3. It's hard for me to talk about giving to the church.  I know how much of the church's budget goes to my salary.
4. At the same time, I do want you to know that raising a family on a pastor's salary is extremely difficult.
5. When I do talk about money, and say that you will be blessed by giving, it's not just lip service.  I really do believe that those who give generously find greater happiness.  I've experienced this myself.
6. I think about leaving the ministry.  A lot.  But I don't think I ever will.
7. When you call or stop by and I assure you that you're not interrupting, some of the time I'm lying.  However, I'd rather have you interrupt me occasionally than not hear from you at all.
8. I probably will not compliment you on your appearance, no matter how wonderful your new haircut is or how fabulous your new outfit is, because too many boundary training workshops have convinced me that just about any such comment can be interpreted as sexual harassment.  I won't initiate a hug with you for the same reason, although I will gladly return a hug that you initiate.
9. I'd rather officiate at a funeral than a wedding.  Many of my clergy colleagues feel this way.  Weddings are fine, but more ministry happens at a funeral.
10. I love my pastoral identity when it makes relationship-building easier and when it allows people to feel comfortable sharing their deepest questions with me.
11. I hate my pastoral identity when it keeps you from inviting me over for a beer.
12. Finding a balance between family and ministry is a struggle.  Family plans - even trips - are often sacrificed because of something happening at church.  Likewise, ministry is sometimes forced to take a backseat so that I can deal with issues at home.  Don't like it?  Join a church that requires its clergy to be celibate.*
13. I am passionate about the gospel and the life to which God calls us, even though there are times when I feel like a complete failure when it comes to living that life myself.

So there you go.  If you are clergy, what would you add?  If you are not clergy, what's a secret or two that you won't tell your pastor?

(*my attempt to inject some of the whiny snarkiness of the "13 Secrets" genre into my list.)

San Clemente Sunset

A few weeks ago we spent the weekend in San Clemente, with some friends who live just a short walk from the Pacific Ocean.  Several times while we were there, I had the opportunity to venture alone down the 109 steps to the bottom of the bluff, where a walking path and railroad track ran along the rocky shore. 

When the sun began to set, I wasn't too sure about taking a photo; it seems that I've been taking a lot of sunset photos, and unless there is something uniquely spectacular about them, they all kind of look the same.  Fortunately, as I walked along the path, I looked across the tracks to the sea, and saw a couple sitting there watching the sunset.  Their silhouette (and the distant outline of Catalina Island) added the unique interest I was looking for.

Not That Kind of Pastor

Sometimes it's hard to be a pastor.  Sometimes, if I can be completely honest, I wish I were something else.  Sometimes, when I hear or read about how some of my clergy colleagues behave, I want to scream, shout, and let the whole world know:  I'm not that kind of pastor!

This week, I was even tempted to change the title of my blog from fieldofdandelions.com to notthatkindofpastor.com.  That's how much I want people to know this about me. 

Last week, a friend of mine wrote a sentence comparing organized religion with organized crime, and posted it online.  A large number of people wrote their own responses, some supporting my friend's comment, some strongly dissagreeing.  I considered posting my own response, pointing out that I took no offense because my own church is as unorganized as they get (haha), but I reconsidered after reading the comments that had turned into a rather intense discussion, feeling that my humor would not be appreciated there.

In his own response to all the responses, my friend listed what he considered to be some of the abuses of the church, specifically mentioning preachers in their $2000 suits who ignore the need of the poor while raising huge amounts of money for Prop 8.

Again, I considered responding, this time in a more serious manner.  I even typed in a comment, but then deleted it before posting.  The reason, this time, is that I had just read an article in the Huffington Post titled "Ricky Martin Boycotted by the Church."  Well, it wasn't "the church" that was boycotting Ricky Martin, but a Puerto Rican pastor, Wanda Rolon, who declared that Ricky Martin was "dragging the church to hell" due to his homosexuality.

After reading the article, I realized I had no defense to make to my friend.  Pastor Rolon doesn't speak for the church, and she certainly doesn't speak for me, but that's not the story the media tell.  According to the media, "the church" is against gays.

Gee, thanks, Pastor Rolon.

Sometimes I wish I were not a pastor.

And about those $2000 suits... I don't think my whole wardrobe is worth that much.  A lot of what's in my closet actually came from thrift stores.  I don't look like those preachers on TV.  But that's just it:  they're on TV.  I'm not.  I'm just the pastor of a small church filled with a handful of wonderful, loving people who pay their pastor what they can.

$2000 suit? If I had $2000, I'd go see a dentist, something I haven't been able to afford in over five years.  Or maybe I'd get my bike tuned up, seeing as it's my primary form of transportation.  Or maybe I'd use that money to send my son to that camp for kids with diabetes that he wants to go to.

It's stressful being a pastor.  The proclamation of a few of my more outspoken colleagues - and the media attention - doesn't help.

What does help?  First and foremost, remembering why I do what I do.  I was called by God to guide a congregation of people who are struggling to figure out how to fully live the life God intends for them, a life filled with joy and blessing and goodness and service to others.  How awesome is that!

Secondly, it helps to know that I am making progress with myself when it comes to living that abundant life.  A lot of folks who have more money than I are a lot less happy than I; they see less meaning and find less satisfaction in life. 

Thirdly, the word of God within me is like a fire.  I cannot contain it.  It is a word of wholeness, a word that liberates people from bondage and oppression.  With so many who claim otherwise, this good news is bursting within me.

Lastly, I find things to do that bring me peace and relieve the stress.  I've written about them here before.  I pray every day.  I seek out beautiful places to explore, usually close to where I live, often by hiking or riding my bike.  I meditate over a cup of green tea, or while stacking rocks, or while making friendship bracelets.

Yes, friendship bracelets.  I know, it seems kind of juvenile to make friendship bracelets.  Kids at camp taught me how to make them a number of years ago. It really is relaxing to me.  As it turns out, I've made quite a few.  And I find it an enjoyable challenge to picture a pattern in my mind, then see if I can transfer that pattern from my mind to a bracelet.

The only thing is, now I have a whole bunch of these bracelets, and I'm not sure what to do with them.  I did see someone selling similar bracelets at DowntownDisney awhile back for five bucks apiece.  I don't really want to "sell" my bracelets, but I would be willing to send one to anyone who makes a donation - of any size - to Bixby Knolls Christian Church.  That might help me feel better about not being able to give back as much as I'd like to the congregation that has given me so much.  Let me know if you are interested.

I've rambled a bit here, and at times this has come close to being a "rant."  It is not my intention to "rant."  But I do want you to know that I'm not that kind of pastor.

Hiking Cheeseboro Canyon

Last Saturday (April 2) I went for a hike in Cheeseboro Canyon, part of the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area.  I picked this location for a hike because of its close proximity to Burbank, where I was meeting my friend David who went with me. 

Cheeseboro Canyon is more well-known among mountain bikers than hikers.  The area is very popular with mountain bikers, and some hikers, I suspect, avoid the area as a result.  David and I encountered numerous cycling groups and individuals, but still had an enjoyable day.  The cyclists we met were courteous toward us, even if they were at times a bit loud.  I guess cycling is, by nature, a louder activity than hiking.  One person we met even asked us, "Where's your bike?"  And we even saw someone riding a mountain unicycle! But if we had been riding bikes instead of hiking, it would have been much harder to hear the numerous birdsongs that were constant throughout the day. 

We made a loop by hiking up Cheeseboro Canyon, across the Sheep Corral Trail, then back down to the trailhead on the Palo Comado Canyon Trail.  An excellent trail map can be found here.

Near the trailhead, the trails are wide fireroads through grassy meadows and oak forests.  Farther up the canyons, along and near the Sheep Corral Trail, the landscape opens up into coastal scrub set against rocky hills, and the trails narrow somewhat.  The area is full of wildlife; besides hearing the chorus of birds, David and I saw hawks, rabbits, squirrels, and a coyote.



One of the many cycling groups we encountered.  This is at the location marked "Shepherd's Flat" on the trail map.



An intriguing tree in Palo Comado Canyon

Despite what the official trail write-up says, the Palo Comado Trail does include some hills near the trailhead.  Here the trail passes an oak tree which includes a hawk's nest (see close-up photo below).

A cave in Cheeseboro Canyon, not far beyond where the oak forest ends.