Leaving Ur

“The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham while he was still in Mesopotamia, before he lived in Haran. 'Leave your country and your people,' God said, 'and go to the land I will show you.'”

“So he left the land of the Chaldeans and settled in Haran...”

Stephen, 1^st Century martyr as quoted in Acts 7:2-4

Sometime around the Second Millennium B.C.E., during what archeologists refer to as the Middle Bronze Age, a small clan of Semites begin heading north along the main trade route that leads from their home. In their rear view mirror is Ur, vast cosmopolitan city of the Sumerians, the most centralized bureaucratic state the world has ever known. The last feature of that place to slip beneath the horizon is the towering temple to the moon god, Nanna. Their journey, to quote Roman Catholic scholar Thomas Cahill, is “a migration in the wrong direction” - a turning-away from the modern, the civilized, everything that you and I would call normal. In some real way, Abram, the leader of this small caravan, is stepping off the map into that region that ancient cartographers used to mark with, “Here There Be Dragons.”

Here There Be Dragons

What would provoke someone from New York City to leave it? Economic downturn? Political turmoil? A desire for greener pastures? Of course, those of us who live contentedly in rural areas cannot imagine anyone actually wanting to live in the Big City – be it New York, Chicago or the Twin Cities - with its traffic, crime, pollution and, well, people. We like our “wide open spaces” and from our perspective Abram and his people are wise to “lit out for the territories.” But as far as his peers and contemporaries were concerned, Abram is going the wrong way. The high life is not to be found in the place where he is headed. Rather, he is risking his entire family fortune by moving his people north. This move of his makes no sense whatsoever.

I try and imagine the conversations that might have happened within their small camp as they proceeded up that highway:

“So, where exactly are we going...?”

Abram leaving Ur

“Where is all this leading, Abram?”

“How can you be so sure that you heard right?”

And (who knows?)

“Are we there yet?”

He does not know and he cannot say. All he can say for certain is that he feels compelled to follow the leading of the One who calls him to turn his back on the only life he has ever known. He has no road map to reference. No virtual tour to get a sneak peak of the land they are traveling to. Whatever else this journey may be it is one of blind faith. And those who go with him are just as courageous – or crazy – as he is.

The Great Ziggurat of Ur

Abram's story, while unique in its particulars, is the not the last time that God will ask someone to make a leap into the dark for the benefit of a greater cause. Moses, when he asks God for a sign that he is really hearing right, is told, in so many words, “when you get back here with all the people then you will know that I have sent you” (Exodus 3:12). I can almost hear Moses say, “Uh....yeah...thanks...” under his breath. Or Joshua who is directed to put in the van of the fighting force their most precious commodity – the Ark of the Covenant – and tell the priests to step into the Jordan. The author adds this little tid-bit: “Now, the Jordan is at flood stage all during harvest” (Joshua 3:15). Would you have wanted to be one of the guys pulling “front-duty” on the Ark that day of the Crossing? Or Esther who violates all known protocol by entering the king's chambers uninvited and unannounced, risking everything with the hopes that the king will smile on her. And then there's the story of Peter. As Matthew tells it, Peter and Andrew were in the middle of an otherwise ordinary work day when the Rabbi comes walking along the shore of the sea and offers an invitation to them that is very similar to the one offered to Father Abraham a couple of ages ago: leave what you know and follow me into a life you know nothing about. “Join me in this great work of the Kingdom,” Jesus invites them.

As I read Abram's and Peter's stories again I ask myself, “Would I do it?” Would I just walk off in the middle of my work day and step off into the unknown because I felt God was leading me to do so? Frankly, the very phrase - “God is leading me” - used to make me cringe because it conjured up faces of those I have known who have said the very thing to do what seemed to me the craziest of things. But nearly twenty years into my present calling admittedly these days I don't spend a lot of time asking God what he would have me do today. Pray. Serve. Preach. Teach. Plan. Study. Visit. Encourage. Write. While the weeks vary with activity, my life often has a stale sameness to it as if I could do these things by rote. And sometimes I do. It feels nothing like Abram's epic journey across the Fertile Crescent 2000 B.C.E.

The actual Ziggurat of Ur

As usual, the Biblical narrative is a wonder in terseness. In response to Yahweh's invitation to leave his “country, people and father's household” to go “to the land I will show you”, the author tells us this: “So, Abram left, as the LORD had told him and Lot went with him” (Gen 12:4). Says Cahill of this moment,

So, ‘wayyelekh Avram’ (“Avram went”) – two of the boldest words in all literature. They signal a complete departure from everything that has gone before in the long evolution from of culture and sensibility. Out of Sumer, civilized repository of the predictable, comes a man who does not know

where he is going but goes forth into the unknown wilderness under the prompting of his god. Out of Mesopotamia, home of canny, self-serving merchants who use their gods to ensure prosperity and favor, comes a wealthy caravan with no material goal. Out of ancient humanity, which from the dim

beginnings of its consciousness has read its eternal verities in the stars, comes a party traveling by no known compass. Out of the human race, which knows in its bones that all its striving must end in death, comes a leader who says he has been given an impossible promise. Out of mortal imagination comes a dream of something new, something better, something yet to happen, something – in the future.

(The Gift of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels, pp. 63-64)

Abram's Journey to Canaan

Matthew's account of this same crossroads in Peter's life is equally terse and (for me) eyebrow-raising:

“At once they [Peter and Andrew] left their nets and followed him” (Matthew 4:20, NIV). Which man do you know who would just leave his power tools out in the open and simply walk away from them? And what do you think his wife said when he didn't come home for dinner that night or she learned that her nice, sedate life as a fisherman's wife was suddenly overturned? I'm wondering why Matthew didn't include that conversation in his narrative? I think it would make for some good reading today. But regardless, Peter leaves and nothing can ever be the same. Which gets me to the point of this meditation: salvation is more than just a place – a moment where we prayed “to receive Jesus” - but a journey that if it is real shapes us into people with different values and priorities than those from our native country, people and, even, household. And if I awake from my stupor and find that for all my talk of being a “pilgrim in progress”, I'm still living in Ur what else is there to do but flee like Pilgrim from the City of Destruction and take up the quest for Eternal Life.

"Life...I must have Eternal Life!"

Signs

Two weeks ago, the 50th season of The Hardscrabble Players opened at "The Barn" (otherwise known as The Red Barn Theater http://www.redbarntheatre-ricelake.com/) which has been their home since 1967. As I have noted in a previous blog ("Missing the Barn", 7/16/2010), I have had the pleasure of performing on the stage there since 2003 and was fortunate enough to contribute to the 50th year by playing "Charlie" in the touching Ernest Thompson play, "On Golden Pond."

One of the traditions of those who perform at The Barn is for the cast of each show to sign either a section of one of the back stage walls, a ceiling truss, a door or even a cupboard door will do. Customarily, the cast signs on the last night of the run and it becomes part of the legacy of the place, sort of a fossilized footprint of those who have performed and danced their way across that small stage over the years.

For example...

Our kids' first time to the Barn

I wasn't in You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown (2000) but I do remember bringing our family to see it. In fact, it was Ed and Emma's first time to the Barn and they enjoyed seeing a few kids they knew from youth group or school in it, namely Luke Fritz and Tzeitel Dutmer who would later be Emma's dance instructor for many years running. 

Sound of Music

I wasn't in Sound of Music (2000) as well but Linda and I came to the show and delighted to see many of the Fritz kids perform - Erica (as Liesl), Kylene as one of the nuns and Luke as a Nazi (we had a lot of fun with that one at Uhf, the youth group we facilitated on Wednesday nights). Funny, I don't remember who played Maria but I do recall that John Dutmer was Captain Von Trapp. John and I would later perform together in Minnie's Boys (2003) and The Music Man (2009) as well as be directed by him in most of the musicals I have been a part of at The Barn. John has also been Ed and Emma's choir director at C-WHS.

Minnie's Boys

My first show to sign for

 Minnie's Boys was my first show to perform in at The Barn. I was invited to play the role of "Harpo Marx" when the guy they had originally cast backed out. Some of my memories of that show include watching a few Marx Brothers films with my kids to get into character (The Stateroom Scene in Night of the Opera is one of our family's favorite shorts to watch) as well as reading Harpo Speaks, Harpo's autobiography of his life before, on and beyond show business. In fact, it was reading his book that inspired me to use his spoon routine as part of my nightly curtain call. Every night, I got to use Harpo-shticht throwing my leg into the aforementioned John Dutmer's hands and cutting off his tie. We had a lot of laughs leading up to the run and enjoyed both on-stage and back-stage antics with fellow brothers Jeff Hile (Groucho), Rick Snyder (Chico) and Matt Bitz (Zeppo). In fact, by the second week of the run, Jeff Hile would come on stage as Groucho to welcome the audience and then I would come running through (dressed as Harpo) honking my horn and chasing girls, whether members of the cast or, in one instance, the Coke bar girls. It was lots of fun and I ended up being nominated for a Barney award that year for Best Newcomer in a Male Role.

I didn't perform in any shows at the Barn in 2004 but in 2005 I was cast in a role that I simply loved: Sydney Lipton, the irascible angel in Neil Simon's rendition of the Book of Job, God's Favorite. Every night I had the joy  of saying the first and last lines of the show: "Guess who's absolutely crazy about you?" referring to God's amazing love for Joe Benjamin. I sweat like crazy in that oversized trench coach (the same one that I had wore for Harpo two years before, mind you) but to play Sydney was worth it. And for my performance I was blessed with my first Barney - Best Male Actor in a Supporting Role.

God's Favorite

The line says it all

Sweet Charity

In 2006, I was cast in my first "lead" role as Oscar Lindquist in Neil Simon's Sweet Charity. I put "lead" in quotation marks because really the only lead in this movie is Shirley MacLaine's character, Charity, which was played wonderfully by Tzeitel Dutmer (a performance for which she gained her first Barney award). I didn't even have to audition for this show - I was chosen to play Charity's boyfriend, Oscar. Emma thought it weird that for 10 nights I played her dance instructor's fake love interest. Linda thought it funny given that Tzeitel was young enough to be one of my daughters. But I loved doing the "elevator scene" with her. You can't find John McMartin's rendition of it on YouTube but I used it to help get me into character. Every night I would fake a claustrophobic episode and then we'd sing, "I'm the Bravest Individual" together.

The elevator scene

For the "ferris wheel" scene, we would climb on a table and then up a step ladder and crowd into a little window so that only our heads were showing. I then would sing "Sweet Charity" to her. But here's the thing: on those hot nights if it was 80-something degrees on stage, it would be 5-10 degrees hotter in the proscenium. So there I would be singing this love song to my girl (who was wearing a wig) and while she looked lovingly up at me my sweat would pour all over her as I sang. Pretty gross but she never stopped smiling. Now that's acting. I was (and I'm sure Tzeitel was, too) very grateful to her mom for coming up with the idea of pulling some helium balloons in front of our faces to give the impression we were kissing. But by the last night of the run, we only had two balloons left so we had to get very close to "sell" it. Certainly, Tzeitel won every inch of that Barney.

The King and I

The King and I (2007) was the first year that Ed and Emma performed with me on the stage. I had a small role - the Kralahome - and really I think I was cast just so Ed and Emma had a way to the Barn each night. But every night the show would begin with Anna (played artfully by Dolly Neby) and Louis dialoging from the band pit as if they are entering the port of old Siam and me entering shirtless with Tommy Yousten my servant in tow. The night Linda showed up the lights hadn't even come up and as I walked down the aisle bare-chested she started to laugh. I almost broke character and turned to her and said, "Please, I'm acting here..." The first two nights of the run it was warm but for the rest of the show we had a cold front come through so most nights the girls in their thin silk outfits would be huddling backstage under heavy blankets waiting to come on stage.

I think that was the last year Barn shows began at 8 p.m. As we got out by 11 each night. It was fun doing a show with two my kids in it. One of the kids cast as the King's sons was Hispanic and I recall one night while we were both putting our make-up on in the dressing room I did my best Nacho Libre impersonation and said, "Chancho, when you're a man sometimes you were stretchy-pants in your room - for fun." Seven-year-old Hose turned to me and said, "I personally find that movie very offensive." I apologized and never referenced it again - until I was in the van going home as he did resemble Jack Black's little sidekick from the movie.

Barefoot in the Park

That was the first summer I did two shows. I figured since I only had a few scenes in King, I could handle a larger role in Barefoot in the Park. Since it was the next show, many nights during the run I would be next door in the Shed rehearsing with the cast of Barefoot. To me, part of the magic of theater is how the same place can be portrayed in so many different ways. Like all shows of the Barn, King and I ended on a Saturday night. By Monday night, the stage had been transformed from a throne room in old Siam to an apartment on Manhattan's east side. I played the charming ne're-do-well Velasco who was doing his very best to woo Mrs. Banks, played wonderfully by Julie Reid, a pastor's wife herself. But it was also that summer that I developed my little mantra: "One is fun. Two is work." I.e., to do a show at the Barn is fun and a great outlet but to do two - especially two in a row - is to commit nearly two thirds of your summer to driving back and forth to the place, practicing and performing there. I love the Barn but there are limits to my endearment for the place.

Playing Fagin

In 2008, I got a dream role when I was cast as Fagin in Oliver! I watched Ron Moody's portrayal of him in the movie version constantly trying to mimic every facial and hand gesture to get Fagin right. Ed was cast as the Artful Dodger and Emma was one of my gang. You've Got to Pick a Pocket or Two was such a fun song to do and coming into the audience every night as I sang Reviewing the Situation was one of my highlights for each performance. I grew my hair out and had a full beard for over a month. Linda loved it and thought I should get a stud in one of my ears and a tattoo on my neck to go with the beard. But I was so hot in that get-up that as soon as the show was over I shaved the beard and all my hair off and went bisque for the next three years.

"Energy, energy, energy..."

It was a great show and a fun cast. Every night Ed and I would circle up "me gang" and we would get our game face on and energy up for the show. It was also this show that our association with the wonderfully talented Arnold sisters, Jaimie and Amanda, began. I won my second Barney for Best Male Supporting Actor for my portrayal of Fagin and when the final curtain call was made for me it was a melancholy moment.

Oliver!

It really was a dream role

Bawling out Tommy

2009 was a busy summer for the Martins for we were featured in both The Music Man and Aladdin and his Wonderful Lamp. I broke my personal rule of doing two shows a summer for the sake of Charlie who was cast by his former teacher in Aladdin. Music Man was the largest cast to ever perform on the stage at the Barn and I absolutely loved being associated with the show. As Mayor Shinn every night I got to bawl out Ed who was cast as Tommy, Zaneeta (my daughter)'s boyfriend. To help the Mayor I actually got a haircut that perfectly resembled my dad's - much to his delight.

The Music Man

Aladdin and his Wonderful Lamp

Aladdin was a far smaller cast and didn't have the same dynamics of Music Man but we muscled through for the sake of having the pleasure of performing in a show together. But it wasn't all work. Having David Mickelson back stage is always a plus and during the run of this show I got better acquainted with Lee Namtvedt (who played the Jafar-character). I'd like to believe this connection became fortuitous for Lee for the very next year when he was involved in an accident because of being intoxicated. While he was incarcerated locally, we met weekly and now that he is serving a 10-year sentence downstate we correspond regularly. If being in Aladdin made these conversations possible, I'm thankful I said "yes" to Patsy.

On Golden Pond

Due to my sabbatical in 2010, we all committed to doing no shows last summer. But this year I wanted to be a part of the Barn's 50th Season and was cast in a relatively small role of "Charlie Martin" in On Golden Pond. But to share a stage - or, at least part of it, with Bill Koslofsky - is no small thing. Plus I got to rub shoulders with buddies from previous shows - Mary Hankins, Tommy Yousten, Tanner Ritchie and Lee Pisa. For the two nights it was nearly 90 degrees in the Barn, it was nice to be the only guy in the cast in shorts. But when the thermometer went south by 40 degrees there were a few nights I looked like an old man back staged wrapped up in a blanket and winter coat. Several nights, after our make-up was on, Lee and I would contemplate how we might spice up the show and we settled on threatening Heidi, the house manager, that on the last night of the run we were going to kill Norman and Ethel as they went down to Golden Pond to say goodbye. We didn't, of course, but we were back stage with the plastic swords we had used in Aladdin feigning slicing them. It got Meg to break character for a moment which, I guess, was the point.

I started this particular blog the night before the run began never anticipating that it would take me so long to compose. And now the show is over and a new cast is getting ready to perform The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. The cabin on Golden Pond is gone - literally erased - and the stage no doubt is taking shape into something completely different. This cast will probably sign on the new doors where apparently we were supposed to sign but no matter. We've left our mark and like the guy said, "...here's looking at you, kid..."

And what if today had been my last day on earth...

So...now what?

Last night while watching the evening news, I was reminded of the significance of today (other than it being my wife's birthday). Today, May 21, at 6 p.m. (or, as Linda insisted, 7 p.m.), the rapture was supposed to have taken place and the Great Tribulation begun. Since I began writing this blog at 7:30 p.m., it's safe to say that either a) we both were left behind – or, at least, everyone that I know was or b) we're all good until the next minister figures out a new date for us to shout or snicker about. No, Chicken Little, it appears that the sky is not falling after all.

But at 5:59 p.m. when I opened my journal to enter my thoughts, I paused to consider what if Harold Camping had been right and today had been the onset of the Apocalypse (and on Linda's birthday of all days). What if standing outside the gate of heaven there are nice angelic orderlies who give you forms to fill out listing how you had spent your last day on this (or, rather, that) side of eternity? Here's what would have appeared on my form:

• 

  Good reading

  Woke up at 4:30 a.m. and read for awhile in The Return of the King (not by coincidence, mind you; I've been working on the third installment of the Trilogy for the last couple of weeks)
• I then spent awhile uploading the pictures I had taken at Ed & Emma's Spring Concert
• Having stayed up 'til midnight last night to finish watching Gran Torino, I laid back in bed to snooze for awhile and slept till after 9
• We lounged around the house in our pjs for a good part of the morning while I returned to uploading pictures and Linda worked on her family history
• In honor of her birthday, we took Linda out to the Chetek Cafe (which specializes in German cuisine) and all of us ordered the buffet
• We then drove up to Lake 7 to watch “Pirates of the Caribbean 4: On Stranger Tides” 
  
  
  
  After failing to insert the video here, follow this link for a little Pirate fun 

  

  Well, we made it through the movie...

   

• 

  We frequent this place a lot

  After the movie we drove over to Wal-Mart to do our weekly grocery shopping
• After helping unload groceries, I drove over to Refuge only to discover that the family that had volunteered to clean this week must have forgot and so I ran the vacuum cleaner and changed out the garbage bags
• And at 5:59 p.m., I knelt on the steps of the altar in the sanctuary and began to pen my journal entry after which I spent perhaps twenty or so minutes in prayer
• I drove home, retrieved my dinner from the microwave and watched the first 15 minutes or so of House while I ate
• Given that Ed, Emma and Christine were all out with friends, Linda, Charlie and I walked on down to Dairy Queen for Linda's birthday “cake” (or, in our case, Blizzards). Charlie downed his quickly and left leaving Linda and I to spend the next half hour or so to finish ours and walk casually home talking about life-after-kids and Ed's upcoming party.

Taken as a whole it was a fairly pedestrian day. I did not “witness.” I did “watch and pray” (much). I had no Bible reading time. I just hung out with my family, enjoyed a decent buffet for lunch and a few BLTs for dinner (with DQ for a nightcap.) Actually not a bad way to spend a day, even if it were your last day on earth.

Still, I don't know what is worse: getting caught up with the hype of some guy's crazy prediction about not just the day but the hour of the Lord's return or joining the rest of the world who is presently yucking it up at the expense of all these Christians who believed this guy. That Camping and his followers are presently the butt of many a joke they only have themselves to blame. As many a pastor will undoubtedly point out to their congregations tomorrow morning, when asked about the time of the Lord's appearing Jesus stated unequivocally, "No one knows when that day or hour will come. Even the angels in heaven and the Son don't know. Only the Father knows” (Matt 24:36, GOD'S WORD Translation.) What part of “don't know” do these (or those who will come after them) don't get? But lest I sound cynical, it's the rest of that same passage that makes me a little nervous:

As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man.

For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying

and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing

about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is

how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. (Matthew 24:37-39, NIV)

What did Jesus enumerate as the “signs of the end”? Namely three things: 1) eating, 2) drinking and 3) making plans to be married or getting married. In other words, life will be going on as normal when he appears. And if that would have been tonight in my neighborhood it would have looked like people working in their flower beds or enjoying a barbecue in their backyard or cutting their grass or tossing the ball at the Roselawn field or taking a walk over to DQ for a birthday blizzard. Just run-of-the-mill Midwest stuff, to be sure, but all signs that more than just summer is around the corner.

My blooming Trillium

“A perfect day,” is what Linda said to me as she kissed me goodnight a little while ago. I'm glad she thinks so. I can't help but wonder if all those people in California who had put all their chips, as it were, on 5/21/11, agree with her sentiment.

Lost and Found

Two weeks ago someone broke a basement window at Refuge, entered our building, forced the door to the office (the only locked door inside the building) and stole an unspecified amount of money from an envelope that The Focus kept in one of the desk drawers. They also found my little stash of “ice cream money” that I keep in another drawer for needed DQ-runs when the urge hits me (which is at least once weekly). The basement window got broke and so did the office door but for the most part it was something to scratch your head and laugh about. What was so funny? Well, all the things “they” (I'm assuming it was more than one person) could have taken but didn't. For starters, A.A. (which meets in our building)'s rent money was in an envelope lying on the floor where it had been slipped under the door as usual. Written on it was: “A.A. May rent”. For another, we had just received an offering on behalf of the Chetek Food Shelf which I had yet to deliver to their treasurer. When I left for track practice on Tuesday afternoon, it was lying on my desk with the following on the envelope: Chetek Food Shelf Offering: $135. All of it was cash. Apparently they did not see this either. Even a Pregnancy Help Center bottle with a couple of bucks worth of change was left untouched. They didn't touch the computers, the sound equipment, the guitars and a few other items that might have netted them something on ebay had they tried. The check book and the credit cards were right where you would expect to find them, too. By all accounts they were not on a search and destroy mission. They were just looking for something they could put in their pocket. (They did take a crappy old laptop that I hadn't used in years and I told people at the time, “If they can get it to work for them, God bless them”.) Again, it was to me, all in all, a joke (albeit a very bad one). Nothing really to write home about.

My office as I found it

But sometime late Saturday night and early Sunday morning, they returned (of course, I'm assuming it wasn't a new wave of assailant(s)) but this time it's clear they were on an altogether different mission. When I arrived early Sunday morning at my usual 4:30 a.m. time, the door was open and the moment I turned on the light in the entryway, it was clear a small tornado had moved through our building. The office printer was in the middle of the floor as well lots of other stuff. They had emptied a bottle of what turned out to be oil onto the carpet of the foyer for good measure. My office had been thoroughly trashed. The computer was gone as was the monitor, books had been flung off the shelf and both desks' contents had been emptied onto the floor. You literally could not enter the room without wading. (When I went to call the police, I could not find the phone. At first I thought it was buried under everything but later after the floor had been cleared we discovered that they walked off with that as well!)

In the sanctuary, the sound booth had been ransacked and the tower of the sanctuary computer was missing. As was my new-to-me guitar I had purchased a few months ago. In the basement it looks like they attempted some vandalism in the fellowship hall planning to spray the contents of the entryway fire extinguisher downstairs but fortunately were unsuccessful at that. They did some destruction to the refrigerator in the kitchen and found the guitar I had bought in the Philippines back in 2004 which I keep downstairs and took that as well. This go-around was really about spite. Their actions appear not to be motivated by monetary gain but by simple meanspiritedness. The fact that they stole or damaged everything I had laughed about the last time makes me believe they were trying to prove some kind of point.

So, here's a tally sheet of sorts of what at this juncture appears to be lost for good:

LOST:

• Regarding the office computer:
  • Ten or more years of sermons and messages.
    As a rule, I rarely preach the same sermon twice, but I like keeping them on hand for reference if I should need them. Besides they represent hours and hours of study.
  • Several hundred pages of personal Scripture meditations that I have compiled over the last two years including multiple references from commentaries and books I have read
  • Four or more years of blog installments I have posted either at my former MySpace page or
    at Facebook and Pastor Martin's Myopia.
    I don't believe that many of you actually read what I post but as being things created by me they are of importance to me.
  • Family history files I kept on the office computer for access if I needed them
    I rarely work at the office on genealogical research but I kept files on hand in case I got emails from family contacts.
  • Three years of Cross Country practice routines, records, times, and other things that are invaluable to me as a Cross Country coach
  • Our Constitution and By-laws
  • Board of Deacon/Board of Trustee minutes and agendas that go back 10 or more years.
  • My own extensive quote file from things I've read that I always referenced for messages, blogs or emails (it beats having to track it down during sermon prep time)
  • A plethora of pictures
  • And so much more

How will their loss affect the fellowship I serve as pastor? Hardly at all. How does their loss

affect me? More than I can articulate. It's like hours and hours and hours of work has just been

deleted permanently. A well-meaning brother said to me today, “God will give you new

messages now.” And I pray that He does but that in itself doesn't help alleviate the sense of loss I now feel.

• My sense of peace
  • Sunday night, for the first time ever, I seriously considered getting into my van and driving over to our building to check on things before I went to bed. I didn't but the fact that I wrestled with this thought makes me aware that something of an intangible nature has been lost as well.
  • This month, with Ed's party getting closer in the window, the stress level is already increasing in my life. Now that I am having to deal with trying to pick up the pieces as well as submit all kinds of estimates to the police and our insurance people, it has increased all the more. I thought I was in a reasonably frame of mind and then just yesterday morning during a VBS planning meeting I lashed out at someone for no logical reason. (I am grateful for a group of brothers and sisters who blessed me and helped restore me)
  • A few members of my family and several of the kids of our faith family are now afraid that the same thieves or people like them will now break into their home next. It's an irrational fear, I'll agree, but there it is all the same. And frankly, that a seven year old boy is afraid inside his own home makes me a little p.o'd.

• My workshop
  • My office is one of the places where I work my craft. I'm a stacker by nature and my office usually looks in some state of a need of good cleaning but it's my workbench all the same. For the present time, I've lost that and must work from home. While some people may think that's a good thing they fail to realize that even if I work all day on “church”-stuff from home I don't feel like I'm at work for the fact that I'm not at work. I'm at home.

• My guitar
  • Sure it can be replaced (I may end up with an even better one, right?) but in the short term how will I minister up at the jail where I am both preacher and worship leader rolled up into one? How will I minister at the nursing home where the same applies? It's like a very important tool has been lost out of my tool box and in the short term I'm going to have to make do on borrowed instruments in the mean time. It's more than inconvenient. It's aggravating and downright frustrating.

Found:

• The meaning of Church
  • If I've preached on it once, I've preached on it several times that “church” is not a building. It's people gathered together by the Name of Jesus. They don't need a building – the tallest tree on the savannah will do. Sunday morning, I found an opportunity to see if that was really true for me. Jon & Melissa came in early to help set things in order. We had no mics, no amplification, and no boards to project the words of the music on the wall. I led worship on Kale's guitar (which has seen so many better days) and yet joy was in the place: we set apart new leaders for our fellowship, we had kids blessing moms, and one of our deacons brought the Word. Worship was uplifting (someone emailed me and said that for them it was like being inside “a good heart-felt movie watching the body worship together”), the message was from God, the altar was full and people stayed afterward per usual to visit and bless one another. True, we in no way can compare ourselves to our brothers and sisters in Myanmar or China who must meet in secret or fellow believers in Egypt or India who suffer loss because of Muslim mobs but I bless those perpetrators for giving me a reason to rejoice.
  • When during the aforementioned VBS planning meeting this morning I lost my composure and leaked out anger I did not know was there, I found a reason to humble myself (and that's always a good thing) before the person who took it on the chin and before the rest of the group. They forgave me and ministered to me and reminded me that what is going on in our community between several of the fellowships is more than people just liking each other. It's Church with a capital C in action. They lovingly restored me even though frankly I had been a total jerk.

• An opportunity for obedience
  • Okay, it's easy to forgive unnamed “enemies” when the worst thing they do is snub coming to my fellowship. But this break-in is personal. The things they did and took affect me and hurt deeply. That being said, however, Jesus said to bless those who “curse you and pray for those who mistreat you” (Luke 6:28). Now I have an opportunity to follow orders and do just this. As I have instructed others in the past, I now must instruct myself: Forgiveness is not an act of emotion but one of the will. I will forgive and bless and “fake it” until “I make it.” As I wrote above, sometimes obedience precedes the feeling of peace that comes in walking out the Word. As I type these words I feel peace...however, tomorrow when I make another attempt to clean my office, that feeling may collapse like a house of cards. As my friend Duane likes to say, “obedience is primary” and I will endeavor to act out in action until my spirit gets with it in truth.

In How the Grinch Stole Christmas, this story of Christmas thievery turns with the Grinch atop Mt. Crumpit 3000 feet above Whoville awaiting to hear the much anticipated lament the Whos will undoubtedly let out when they discover all their toys, holiday treats and decorations have been stolen. Of course, he doesn't hear any sobbing or loud wailing. All he hears is singing – welcoming Christmas presents or no. It befuddles him and he stands in the snow trying to figure out the source of the joy that reaches him. I realize it's just a story, a bit of media Americana as relished now as It's A Wonderful Life. If it were a true one, Seuss would have reported that victim impact statements would have been issued by the score as well as a form to itemize each item that had been taken from each Who. (Who thinks to write down the serial number on computers anyway?) But joy is a thing that may be found in the most unlikeliest of places whether it's while standing with your “grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow” or in the midst of the refuse of what was once my office. As Job once said in the shadow of far more graver circumstances than my own, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised” and “...shall we accept good from God and not trouble?” (1:21 and 2:10). So, in the end the tally sheet of what has been found far outweighs the impact of what has been lost and I have reason all over again to “give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever” (Psalm 107:1).

Some (somewhat) mortal thoughts about turning 49

You never want to wear the red shirt

Tomorrow I turn 49. I realize that 49 is just a number – it comes after 48 and it's right before 50. But the fact that I am one year away of leaving my 40's behind me for good has put me in a somewhat reflective frame of mind.

For one thing, I'm most likely already past the half way mark in my life. Even if I were to celebrate my 98^th birthday 49 years from now, on that day will I even know who all those smiling people are and why they are trying to spoon feed me some sugary white stuff? Historically, Martin men have not made it out of their 80s and while I'm all for setting a new precedent the genes may be against me.

"Go on and kiss de girl..."

For another thing, I'm aging. Even though I've been running since I was 38 and consider myself in relatively good shape (my weight notwithstanding), in the last few years I've dealt with various running ailments which take me longer to recover from. What's more, half the hair I still own is gray or graying. And as funny as I think the voice overs for all those Viagra and Ciallis commercials are...well...I now understand why there is a market for them. (I think of that guy in It's A Wonderful Life who sits on his front porch listening to George make small talk to Mary and finally in exasperation says, “Why don't you kiss 'er instead of talkin' her to death...?” When George hesitates, the old guy throws up his hands and states, “Youth is wasted on the wrong people!” Indeed.)

Looking back on the “first 48” here is the short list of a few of my accomplishments and experiences:

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  Me at 3 days

  I was born (sadly, not every baby gets that opportunity these days)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• I was born again just prior to my 18^th birthday now nearly 31 years ago
• I graduated from high school, Bible school and a liberal arts college

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  Linda at 19

  I was lucky enough to find a beautiful woman who loved me anyway and married me in spite of my questionable prospects
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  

  Still lovely

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  

  At the Choo Choo in Superior 2000

  
  
• I have fathered four wonderful children who make me humble and proud at the same time
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  I have been blessed to serve as the pastor of a wonderful faith community for nearly 20 years.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• In 1993, we bought a (now) 120 year-old house and have slowly been able to remodel it

• 

  Twin Cities '09

  I have run (to date) 8 marathons and over 60 shorter races
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• I founded a youth group which ran for 11 years and was a co-founder of another one that is presently in its eighth year of operation
• I helped start our local youth center (11 years and counting), a local mentoring program (8 years) and a ministry focused on reaching out to our Somali neighbors in nearby Barron (3 years)

• 

  Playing Fagin at the Barn

  I have performed on various stages of Barron County and have been fortunate enough to play roles that have made people laugh
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• I have served as Chetek-Weyerhaueser Cross Country Coach for three seasons with hopes of many more to come
• I've had the opportunity to minister in Canada, Mexico and the Philippines on a handful of occasions

It's not what I would call the resume' of an A-lister, but over the course of my 48 years I have met scores of wonderful people who have enriched my life and in return, I have sought to pass some of their richness on. I am content and I concur with what the psalmist affirms in Psalm 16:

“LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;

you have made my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in

pleasant places;

surely I have a delightful inheritance.” (vv.5-6, NIV)

Now, looking ahead, I think of all the things for me to do or attempt that remain on my “Bucket List” such as:

"BAYONETS!"

Stand at the left flank marker of the 20^th Maine atop Little Round Top at Gettysburg and shout “BAYONETS!” (I duly crossed this off the list last summer when Ed, Christine, Emma and I did this not once but four times, once for each one of our cameras)

Hike the Ice Age Trail in its entirety.

Run every public road in Barron County at least once.

There's a first time for everything, right?

Run the Antarctica Marathon.

Write the definitive Martin family history and perhaps put to rest the question only a few Martins really worry about: Did we emigrate from Scotland or Ireland?

Travel to either country of origin to say (in so many words) “A Martin has returned”

Write something that others would find worth reading (my Mom and Dad as fans don't really count) and, oh yeah, pay for it.

To canoe the entire length of the Red Cedar River from Lake Chetac in Sawyer County to the Chippewa River some 85 miles south.

It's enough to keep me occupied for many years to come.

I'm not depressed but I am mindful that time is passing by, that my parents and my children are getting older and more of my life is behind me than ahead. It provokes me to pray that line from the Psalm of Moses: “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (90:12). Selah. Hallelujah and Amen.