Megan’s Secrets

Megan's Secrets by Mike Cope looks pain in the eye and doesn't blink. OK, maybe it blinks once or twice because there are tears (no really, there is something in my eye), but it does not look away, does not back down, and does not fold in the presence of pain. It is a book of hope in the context of loss and pain. It is not about superheroes unaffected by pain, but instead a book about redemption, the meaning of longing, and humility.

A theology of hope doesn't work in isolation. It is clear that people need each other and need God in a theology of hope. That is why Cope's writing connects his own pain with the pain of others and to scripture. He frames loss and grief as real and painful and unjust as he shares a theology of a hope as he introduces us to all that he has held onto since Megan retired from telling secrets. Megan's Secrets is a theology of hope that is not cluttered by impossible language, but really simple language. Not easy, but simple.

I got to know Megan a little in this book. I saw her innocence, dependence, faith, and humor. Cope listened to Megan and didn't miss the secrets she had. I thought of my own parenting with my own children. Am I missing the secrets they are telling me?

When I was done reading the book, I wanted it to be

longer, to tell me more. But I think that was the point. I left wanting more. Here we are on Earth, left wanting more. The good news is that Megan's Secrets are a promise for more.

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Father’s Day: Particles of Connection

This is my 5th Father’s Day without my father.

This is my 13th Father’s Day as a father.

What I am learning is that the power of a father is not a political issue. It is not theoretical. It is real. The power of a father’s presence or the power of a father’s absence shapes the context – is a shaping part of the context - for a child. A good man brings good context for his children.

The measure of a father does not come in the number of children he has. For men, there is little obligated initial investment, unlike women who carry the child inside them, risk their lives in giving birth, and oftentimes are the very source of food for the child for months. Men must assert their engagement from the moment there is a pregnancy until…until someone dies, really.

The measure of a father is not that he made a genetic contribution, although participating in the miracle is no small thing. It comes in daily units of connection. Each interaction with his child is a particle of formation for the child. It is a particle of formation for the father as well. Each particle of connection means that the connection was the thing happening and not something else.

Particle? That’s so small. How does it matter? Well, each particle of connection on its own may not make a significant difference. Accumulated particles matter a great deal. The sum of particles of connection is good, but it does not tell the whole story. When enough particles of any kind gather between a father and his child, whether they are of connection or of something else, they form expectations, they form identity, they form beliefs, they form what a person calls reality. The accumulation of instances organizes into something much deeper and more profound than the instances themselves. So in one sense, no single particle of connection is essential, but every single on of them is sacred.

Accumulating particles of connections builds interest. This is both literal a metaphoric. Literally, the more connected a father and child are the more interested they become in each other. It is not a static thing that once father status is established, there it is forevermore more. No, it is always changing. It must be attended to. Metaphorically, accumulated particles gain interest, like money in the bank. It becomes more valuable not just in accumulated size, but it becomes more than it would be merely added together.

What is curious about these particles of connection is that they are not static. They change and move and rearrange and reorganize and get interpreted in more than one way. A father introduces the particles of connection into the relationship he has with his child (the child introduces them as well). Both the child and the father participate in arranging them, setting meaning to them, and collaborating in deciding how these particles will form life identity. There is a constant stream of contribution of more particles of connection and at the same time the construction what the new particles mean on their own and when they join the existing collection of experiences.

Becoming a father is the collaboration, negotiation, and social construction of a mosaic of connection particles between a man in his offspring. It is permanent in that it always matters. It is dynamic in that it always changes. It is meaningful in that it constantly exists and therefore must be interpreted and reinterpreted. It is powerful in that it always has consequences. It is moral in that it is always laden with obligations and entitlements.

Fathers matter. They matter in macro-fathering – the big stuff. They matter in the micro-fathering – the little stuff. This is both an affirmation and a call.

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Sandestin #3

Some seabirds swoop, some hover and still others dive. They have their varied strategies for getting food. A heron will befriend a pier fisherman if it knows it’ll get a little fishy snack out of the deal. The birds have body shapes meant for their type of hunting and fishing. There must be many more fish than birds as much as these birds eat. I wonder where these seabirds sleep at night. Do they sleep at all?

The fish jumping in the cove of the bay between Sandestin and the main land were not shy whatsoever. Better then any bass or northern I had even seen in Minnesota. And they were strange fish. An ocean tends to breed variety.

Last night we saw lightning like skeleton fingers reach out of a sunset orange and darkening grey thunderhead in the east. We also saw the moon in a crescent in the west. It looked like a celestial showdown. The thunderhead got us out of the pool as the lightning seemed to be approaching. We believed the moon would not protect us at all from the lightning and so we didn’t take our chances.

There is something wonderful about swimming in the ocean. It is fun and dangerous. The idea that something so huge could be hospitable enough to welcome me into it is something special to consider. Who am I to get to be so involved. I feel the same way at the mountains of Colorado or the forests of Minnesota. What I do not like is the feeling after getting out of the ocean, but before getting a shower. It feels terrible. The sopping and heavy whatever I am wearing wants to rub and chafe and bother me. The saltiness of the sea remains on my skin, seaweed finds ways into my pockets, and the grit of sand is everywhere. I want it all off – now! The feeling is so annoying and miserable it make me wonder whether I really like the ocean. After the shower, I feel good again. I can love the ocean again. I think about when I can go back.

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Sandestin #2

Creatures in the Evening

The evening walk on the beach with Gail something I have wanted to do since we got married. Here we are, 15 years into this marriage, and we finally did it. The breeze and setting sun provided a mercy from the intense sun heat of the day. We walked and our bodies didn’t sweat and our skin didn’t burn. it felt good. Brandon, Sheryl, Judy and all the kids were stationed on the beach. Sierra went with us, her camera ready to click.

The sun slowly set over the towering resort hotels as the daylight slowly evaporated. The ocean is beautiful at dusk. Gail claimed she saw crab scurry off into the ocean, but I didn’t think so because there were still lots of people out. What do I know of crab behavior? Then Gail saw  something disappear into the sand, a tiny something. Again, I saw nothing. She followed up on it and dug into the sand and found what she called a clam. A clam? It was the size of one fourth of my pinky fingernail. It looked like a small white pebble.

She set the clam on the sand just after the a wave retreated back to the ocean and sure enough, it reproduced its previous behavior. It melted into the sand like a little piece of hail next to a candle light. It was gone. It burrowed down quickly and hid from our sight. For Gail, it was a pilot test. Now for the real experiment – show the kids.

We got back to where the cousins were all together playing in the surf and gathered them for a demonstration. Gail showed the the miniature clam and its great disappearing trick, and they were off. Again, again, they wanted to see it again. They all wanted their own clam. They wanted to do the disappearing clam trick themselves.

Soon each of the kids dug holes looking for miniature clams. They each found one of their own. Over and over again Maddie, Ella, Sam, Canaan and Sierra played the hiding clam game. Then Canaan dug a hole looking for another clam and instead found what must have been the smallest crab on earth – the size of half my pinky fingernail.  It was sand colored with dazzling and oversized blue eyes. They looked like two bright blue ink drops a few hairs held together with clear glue or gelatin. We wowwed and wondered how wonderful this tiny world was.

Creatures in the Morning

The sunrise run was slightly cooler than the previous day, but much more humid. The sun had not yet awaken enough to swallow some of the humidity with heat. It’s not a great exchange. As a Minnesotan, trading heat for humidity is like being told that the good news is that there is a treatment to help take the edge off the headache, but it involves pounding a hammer on your hand. I began to sweat even before I began to run.

I made my way to the beach and then headed eastward, toward the rising sun. It rose over the sand dunes past the resorts. Although I do like the manicured landscaping, the structure and order of the buildings, and clarity on what to do and where to go in the resorts, I also like the ambiguity and unkemptness of the ocean front beyond the resorts. It was this beach wilderness that I saw the crabs – sand colored and fast. Probably the same crabs Gail claimed to see the night before, but I dismissed her. I shouldn’t dismiss her. It’s a dumb thing to do.

The first crab I saw was a wave chaser. I noticed it about 20 feet ahead of me on my run when a wave had made its complete advance on the sandy shore and then retreated. The crab chased the wave right back into the ocean and then got gobbled up into the foamy next wave. A couple minutes later, two similar crabs did the same thing about 20 feet ahead of me. They are quick little creatures. To hidden to detect them and too quick to catch.

Then I spooked another, but this one was not a wave chaser. This one was a hole diver. Crabs have holes in the sand they dive into and disappear. I looked for it, kicked the sand around, dug a hole with my running shoe, but it was gone.

I saw about a dozen crabs that morning and was amazed. They had two ways of escape from me – both equally effective. And yet, I got to see them scurry. Minnesotans see crabs on plates at restaurants, not in nature. It was a real treat.

As I continued to run the beach, I thought about Charles Darwin and his observations of creatures in the Galapagos Islands. I thought of him as a scientist and a wonderer of nature. He must have been so curious, so interested, so taken by all of this world.

I wondered if I would ever make a trip to the Galapagos Islands. But it didn’t matter whether I would or not. It appears there are wonders of nature everywhere I go.   

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Sandestin #1

First time at the beach

We arrived at Sandestin in the early June, but it felt like August. The sun forced us to go to the beach. White, soft, fine sand. We are at Sandestin with Brandon, Sheryl, Maddie, Ella, Sam and Judy. We headed to the beach as fast as we could get there. The waves sounded distant until we were right there at the shoreline – then they roared. The flag was yellow, meaning moderate surf. I liked the idea that the waves could be a little dangerous, but not super dangerous.

The water depth can be measured in color at the beaches of Sandestin. Tan water is very shallow, light green water is a little deeper, teal water is deeper still, then dark green and blue is the deepest. We got into the  light green water and got a feel for the waves. Having children present with the age range from 6 to 13, it can be a little challenging to know who can handle what so far as waves are concerned. Sam and Maddie stayed closer to shore as I went deeper with Sierra, Canaan, and Ella.

We played games with the waves. We jumped over the waves. We taunted the waves. We moved and danced with the waves. Chest deep in wavy water is a fun and occasionally vulnerable position in which to be. No matter how hard we tried, we kept getting mouthfuls of salty seawater. We tried to stand our ground, but the pushing and pulling of the waves made sticking to any position for very long a complete impossibility. We were guests of the sea, but also its playthings.     

Running on the Beach

I ran on the beach – 3 miles or so. Even the morning sun was not the least bit shy about scorching the earth. It was hot. Unlimited humidity made it hard to breathe like I usually do when I run. But it was beautiful. The sounds, the green-blue sea with frothy whitecaps and curling, crashing waves made me want to keep running. Birds, sea type birds flew around, some looking for food, some just flying around decorated the beach. A marlin jumped out of the water and glistened in the sun. A beautiful fish. I wanted to catch one.

Sand is a hard surface on which to run. The sand closer to the water is more solid and flat, but also gets repeated covered in water. The waves keep sneaking up and claiming little bits of beach as the tide rises. Sometimes a wave sneaks up and floods my shoes. I am not annoyed because I am running on the beach. I know the risks. Sometimes the larger waves travel in threes and push each other further into the beach. Yesterdays sandcastles look like Mayan ruins, silt-filled motes and deteriorating structures. When a strong wave pushes over dry beach, a thousand bubbles fizz up as the water replaces the air in the sand.

The beach is not level. It slants toward the water. My ankles complains as they are the first to notice the slant, but I remind them that we will not always run on the beach. We must all make out sacrifices. The skin on my face makes the same complaint while running in the winter. Sometimes I have to remind my body parts that this is a team effort.

I will run on the beach some more. I like it here.

Also, Jimmy Buffet is making slightly more sense to me now – slightly.

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Ambiguous Loss

We weren’t expecting this;

Now there’s a hole,

Where we thought we’d stand,

We’re face down -

In a hole.

A large hole.

A cave.

 

Lots of ambiguous space here –

Weird things here.

What’s that smell?

Something is dead…right?

The hole we’re in looks like the hole in me;

In us.

 

So much doesn’t mean anything;

Even familiar things can’t mean what they used to;

All the labels fell off;

Nothing sticks like it used to.

I’m angry,

We had labeled them ourselves.

We had agreed.

It will take forever to label everything here.

I don’t even know if it’s worth it.

 

Can we go home now?

How could this be home?

My body arrived, but my heart found some other place to be.

Home is where?

The distance between me and the rest of me is measured in ache.

 

I am at a loss, an ambiguous loss.

All I know for sure is that certainty is out of reach,

But for God’s sake, hand me the Sharpie!

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Sermon on the Mount 17: Boomerang

Scripture: Matthew 7:1-5

Focus: Judge

Reflection: Jesus gives some sage advice here. I get the feel he is not so much making commands as he is describing how people naturally behave with each other. Commands are not always practical. No, Jesus has seen how it works and is helping people along here in people trying to have life together. His observations are practical.

Jesus understood the flow of relationships. What is the natural reaction to being judged? It is to get defensive. One of the most common defensive acts is to give back a dose of what was dished out. “You judge me? Well, let me find your imperfections and announce them.”

But it goes the other way as well. When someone humbles themselves and admits their own issues and problems, they earn a credible spot with others. If someone is willing to risk and admit their own shortcomings, then the meaning of any judgment that person could ring true. It doesn’t feel like an attack when the person has taken an inventory of their own life first.

Failure to reflect on one’s own life generally results in nobody caring what you have to say. “If you can’t even reflect on your own life then how could you reflect on mine?”

Judgment is a boomerang; it comes back just like it was tossed. It is like an infection; it spreads and grows. But so does humility, self-reflection, and generosity toward one another.

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Dissertation Acknowledgements

One year ago today I defended my dissertation. As I reread this with one year of facultyness under my belt, these words mean even more.

Acknowledgements

I have something in common with Dorothy, Alice and Neo when they took their journeys to Oz, Wonderland, and the Matrix. When I entered into doctoral studies and dissertation writing, I embarked upon a journey I did not understand, to a place I had never been, with people on whom I had to place my trust. Without my travel companions, I would have been lost. My gratitude for their companionship, guidance, support, and expertise is great and I could use a lot of ink giving a full description of what my travel companions have done for me. Allow this modest note of acknowledgement to suffice.

My primary guide on this journey was my adviser, Dr. Jodi Dworkin. Her knowledge and wisdom were demonstrated when she pointed out new and interesting ideas, theories and articles for me to chase down and get to know. She knew when to hold my hand and when to let me wander on my own.

There were times on this journey when I doubted my ability, when I was riddled with fears about what was to come next, and was uncertain about whether I could continue. Dr. Bill Doherty provided well timed doses of courage so potent that my doubts scattered, my fears evaporated, and my uncertainty became indefensible.

Perhaps the strangest land on this journey was a place where an unusual language was spoken – the language of statistics and quantitative methods. It was a privilege to have Dr. Martha Rueter as a companion who not only spoke the language fluently, but was clever, benevolent, and patient in how she helped me in my efforts to become bilingual.

When embarking on a journey in social science, having a travel companion who has a bag stuffed full of sociology is an incredible asset. Dr. Ann Meier pulled all manner of stuff out of this bag and let me look at it all. She also had a way of responding to my work that left me feeling like my ideas, questions, and research efforts were smart and interesting.

On this journey, there were many paths diverging from the main path that held out some promise of interest and intrigue. Had it not been for my wife, Gail, reminding me of why I started this journey in the first place, I would have quickly gotten lost, making the journey longer…or even endless. She reminded me that I can do anything, but I can’t do everything.

No one travels without provisions. Because of my mother, Linda, and my sister, Amy, my children wore new clothes, my family ate well, and my marriage had child-free time to be nurtured in connection and intimacy. Furthermore, with their help, we established intergenerational rituals that gave order to my unwieldy schedule and will live on in our hearts and souls when we move on from this place.

The value of having friends who believed in me, cohort members who included me, and voices of wise people who provided encouragement to me is impossible to calculate. John Ogren is a trusted friend with whom I shared my academic challenges. His wise words and faithful prayers helped guide my steps. My cohort believed I deserved to be one of them – amazing. Dr. Cathy Solheim and Dr. Liz Wieling were so incredibly affirming that they had me believing I could walk on water.

I am grateful to God for all of my travel companions (angels?) who walked with me. I thank God for the privilege of this journey and look forward to the next.

 

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An American Christian Prayer

God, Can we talk? Osama Bin Laden was killed last night. Lots of people are cheering his death. I am not cheering, but there is a huge part of me that wants to. As an American I want to cheer, but as a follower of you, I don’t feel right about cheering.

You see, most of the time it is not a conflict for me to be both a citizen and supporter of the United States and a Christian. I believe that you have unleashed all kinds of gifts and blessings and responsibilities to America. However, there are other times when I must decide whether I will be an American or a Christian. Ultimately, with whom does my allegiance rest? The killing of Osama Bin Laden is one such time. Help me dig within myself and learn who it is that I am and how I want to express myself. 

Yes, there is a nationalistic impulse in me that desires to cheer along with many Americans and pledge my allegiance to the flag. I have not forgotten the pain we all felt on 9/11. It was one of the most uncertain times in my life. I had two small children. I lived near a symbolic “target” that was shut down for a few days. I was scared. There is no doubt that 9/11 changed me and how safe I felt in my own home, in my own country. I learned on 9/11 that living in America was not immunity from terror.

Yes, I feel the impulse for justice and revenge. I feel the desire to make things right.

But you did not call me to be an American. You did not create me to dominate others. You have not laid out for me a plan of revenge against enemies. You did not desire what I desired. This impulse I have for revenge is not faith and this desire I have for this kind of justice is not what you have asked of me. I read your word and see these things:

“Do not kill.” Exodus 20:13

“Pray for your enemies.” –Matthew 5:44

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us…While we were God’s enemies we were reconciled to him through the death of is son.” – Romans 5:8, 10

“Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice” Proverbs 24:17

You never told me to be nationalistic. You never commanded me to have an allegiance to a nation. You never required that I take out my enemy. You never told me to kill in response to killing.

I cannot rejoice. Forgive my desire to cheer.

 

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William and Kate: Why They Matter

Of course the discussion about the relevance of the British Monarchy is going to come up when an event like the wedding of William and Kate occurs. The Monarchy is an institution that is more symbolic than it it is politically potent. It is also an institution that costs a lot of money perpetuate. So, what are the British and what is the world getting for all the cost and attention?

The wedding of William and Kate does several things that are relevant in our world today. Probably the most important aspect of the wedding of William and is that it serves as a benchmark for reflection in many areas of life that matter to millions of Westerners. Three areas of reflection that matter are marriage, tradition, and celebrity.  

With the most recent major benchmark of this kind being the wedding Charles and Diana 30 years ago, William and Kate provide an opportunity for comparison. Many people are comparing Kate and Diana, which is fine. What this article looks at is the tone and meaning of conversations about marriage when Charles and Diana got married and how do they compare to those same topics of conversation now that William and Kate are getting married.

Reflections on marriage. In 1981, the dominant conversation about marriage was really the conversation about divorce. In that year, the the divorce rate peaked. Questions about why this was happening, what feminism had to do with it, what emerging “no-fault” divorce laws were doing to marriage were being asked and debated. The soaring divorce rate also exposed some things about marriage that did not seem to match the myths of marriage that so many people believed and tried hard to show. With the divorce of Prince Charles and Lady Diana in 1996, they were certainly a couple whose lives revealed both the myths of marriage and the

Other questions about divorce had to with its effects on children. There were “broken homes” that were the result of the divorce. The damages that children experienced from divorce were assumed permanent. Children coming from a “broken home” were stigmatized. Efforts were underway to try to ease stigmas for children.

in 2011, the conversation about marriage is very different. It has move from the divorce scare into a three distinct directions: relevance, who can marry, and saving marriage.

RELEVANCE: The first 21st century marriage conversation is about the relevance of marriage. With the rise of cohabitation in 1990’s and 2000’s, the question is not whether a marriage will last, but rather will one even occur in the first place? There is a lot more relational ambiguity now as compared to 1981. With cohabitation, hook-ups, friends with benefits and other kinds of non-marital sexual, it is clear that marriage is one of many forms of romantic/sexual relationships people are having. The question about the relevance of marriage is not whether marriage is disappearing, but rather then what role it plays compared to other forms of relationships. The wedding of William and Kate is, in part, the institution and tradition of the British Monarchy asserting its values on this conversation of marriage. The power, wealth, and even celebrity of the Monarchy says that marriage still matters. 2 billion people watching are getting a lesson in cultural support for the institution of marriage through ceremony and ritual. There would not be this sort of gathering and pageantry had William and Kate decided to cohabit, hook up or become friends with benefits. 

WHO CAN MARRY? The second 21st century marriage conversation is about who can marry. No one had even considered that gay marriage was a possibility in 1981. Now gay marriage laws are being enacted around the world and in the United States. The Defense of Marriage Act looks like it is going be directly challenged and the Obama Administration has decided not to enforce it. There are strong advocates on both sides of the issue. So, on the one hand the relevance of marriage is in decline and on the other hand, expanding the definition of marriage to include same sex couples is a hot topic.

SAVE MARRIAGE: The third 21st century marriage conversation is about saving the traditional marriage. In a sense, it is a push back against the other two trends. Much of this effort is coming from religious groups. This conversation is about keeping marriage between a man and a woman, about keeping sex inside marriage, and about getting and staying married. This third conversation is not new, but it still holds a prominent place in the current conversation of marriage. It also harkens to the tradition of the Monarchy. It is expected that William and Kate will stay married. The message is this: A marriage is a permanent thing. 

Oh, and one more thing. There will be children. William and Kate are to have children – an heir and a spare at least. It is not an option, it is an expectation. The very existence of the Monarchy depends on this fact. Reproduction is required. Why? So the Monarchy can continue. So a son can marry in three decades, we will do this all again.

Yes, William and Kate matter. They provide us a benchmark to discuss marriage.

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