eigerdreamer's Xanga

Fishing for the Promised Land

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 00:11:58 GMT

(This post was originally published at www.kevinclouse.com)

You are watching the Fisherman’s Dance, based on Soran-Bushi (ソーラン節), a traditional song from Japan’s northernmost island, Hokkaido. The dancers in this video are some of the wonderful Japanese expat kids I’ve gotten to know over the past two years in Battle Creek.

One of the oddest things about my life right now is The Vine, an outreach I run for American high school students interested in (or rather, obsessed with) Japanese culture. Odd because I’m usually just one step ahead of the curve, and they all think I know what I’m talking about! Thank goodness for all my Japanese helpers. We’ve danced the Fisherman’s Dance together, thrown soybeans at demons, made sushi, painted calligraphy, and are just beginning a large mural project. And of course Wii play together. They tell me they love The Vine, that we’re family. For the longest time, I just couldn’t figure out why it was such a big deal for them. I thought we were offering a mediocre little program at best. But then they began to open up. Now I understand that this is a refuge for them, an eye in the storm of their messy lives.

Now in our third semester, a unique community has formed. The students who come are not your average high school kids. They’re outsiders. Sideliners. Freaks. They attend the wealthiest suburban high school in Battle Creek, but they’re from the wrong side of the suburb, the numbered streets. They idolize Japan. For some I think it’s an escape from the reality of their foster homes, broken families, internal chaos, and hungry hearts. One girl is a cutter and takes medication for depression. Another boy appears deeply confused about his gender. Japan is their personal Promised Land. I admit, Japan would be a pretty cool destination, but my anxious hope is to point them to a much better Promised Land.

My guess is that we all have our own Promised Land, though we may not be as openly obsessed with it as are my high school students. Maybe that’s why so many 20 and 30-somethings can’t stay put for very long. Somewhere, there’s something better. A better city. A better job. A better apartment. Better weather. Better food. Maybe better people. I struggle with that. If, however, we really believe in the goodness and sovereignty of God, there is no Promised Land here on earth. Or rather, wherever we find ourselves is the Promised Land God has placed us in. Staying put becomes a matter of tenacious, clinging trust, and that does not come easily.

Emerging Thoughts on Emergent

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 16:35:37 GMT

(This post was originally published at www.kevinclouse.com)

When a friend first clued me in to Rob Bell a few years ago, I was hooked. He was young (like me). He was cool (ok, he’s a little cooler than me). He was on the cutting edge. He was at the helm of one of Michigan’s most exciting churches. When I first moved back here, I drove up to his church 3 or 4 times. Above all, he could preach like nobody’s business. He wasn’t quite a hero, but he was up there.

I’ve read lots of books and listened to lots of of podcasts by many of the cutting edge Emergent front runners. This stuff used to get my blood pumping. Emergent buzz words seemed fresh and alive and full of hope. Conversation. Community. Missional. Authenticity. Ancient-future.

But I’ve become frustrated. I flip open a magazine, I click on a website, I browse the shelves at Barnes and Noble, and I’m bombarded by the hip and cool, the now and cutting edge in Emergent Christianity. I know their haircuts, their quirks of speech, their style. I know who’s hot, who’s relevant, and what conferences (or theaters) they’re speaking at. We’ve got a glut of rock stars. Even Anglican bishop N.T. Wright has acquired superstar status among emergents. These are the ones I should be listening to and talking about, I’m told. And I do listen to them and talk about them, because some of them should be heard. I fully realize that Emergent is not just another fad. It is about a dramatic shift in culture and the church’s response to it. I’ve just gotten tired of all the frenetic hoopla. Rob Bell is a great guy and an awesome preacher, but I’m tired of seeing his face everywhere, even in secular media. Time recently named him the Hipper-Than-Thou Pastor. Brian McLaren has given us some significant insight, but does his name have to be attached to every other book on the subject? Let’s face it, his own writing is torture to read.

The problem, really, is not with them so much as it is with the rest of us who seem to idolize them, need them, depend on them, and expect our own pastors and churches to be like them. When we hold them up as our models, aren’t we bound for disappointment? Most pastors and most churches will never be as exciting or “relevant” or recognized as theirs. Ministry is usually unglamorous, sometimes boring, often frustrating. It feels as though the Emergent cast has forgotten that. Emergent buzz words suddenly don’t seem so exciting, or perhaps even as meaningful, when you close the book and walk out the front door to deal with human beings as they are. Or when you face the realities of your own church.

I’m still chewing on this and may have more to spit out in the future. Any thoughts?

The Sacrament of a Cardinal in Winter

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 16:26:05 GMT

(This post was originally published at www.kevinclouse.com)

I go to the woods and wilderness to find life. Some people go to malls and stores, some to bars and clubs, others to Starbucks. But the woods and wilderness are my sanctuary. I drove my rundown Oldsmobile to the woods on a bleak, gray day, with a bleak, gray wind blowing through my soul. I needed peace. Stillness. Something to smile about. God. The trail was lost under deep snow, and I hadn’t worn boots. I forgot to see the first mile. I’d walked this trail so many times before, I could do it without seeing the path and the trees and the frozen brooks. Stress, worry, and fear chewed at my brain and my heart and my guts, relentless as mice.

I arrived at the big stream, the one where the trail divides. You can go straight and walk calf-deep through ice water. Or you can go right, curve through the woods, and then walk over the water on the wooden bridge. I chose the bridge. Looking down at the black current, globs of gray slush and cold bubbles caught in its grip, I saw. I saw a tireless throb of water, feeding moss and grass and trees, pushing toward Whitford Lake. This water is life for carp and beavers and a family of ornery swans. A long time ago, at another wood by another stream, God whispered to me that he is like that water. A tireless current. A source of life and power. I remembered.

I crossed the bridge and asked God to tell me something new. I looked at the trees, lined white with fresh snow. The murmur of ducks punctuated the still air. My shoes were wet, my toes cold. A flash of red and I stopped. What was that? I looked at the gray all around, and there it was, tittering on a branch. A cardinal. Maybe you don’t know, but a cardinal in winter, a fury of red against a grayscale world, is a sign of grace, maybe even a sacrament. You cannot dismiss God when you see a cardinal in winter. My tight cheeks creased with a wide, spontaneous smile.

I climbed back into my Oldsmobile, the mice left somewhere back along the trail. The woods did not fail me. They never do. I saw water, and a red cardinal, and God.

A new incarnation

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 04:35:33 GMT

www.kevinclouse.com

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Sat, 21 Apr 2007 02:20:12 GMT

Along Life's Narrow Way
Update from a Quiet Life

Having been in Michigan now just over a year, it seems appropriate to give a quick update. A year!? Never did I imagine that...

I would still be here a year later.

I would help to start an outreach program that brings together local Japanese students and mothers with American high school students. The idea came from our local itinerant Japanese pastor, who I have come to respect very much and really enjoy working with. We call it The Vine, and it has been one of the highlights of every week for me. I love it! Some of the American kids that come are deeply, seriously troubled, and I pray often that they will meet Jesus through us. For all the shine on the surface, suburban kids can be frighteningly messed up. My heart breaks for some of them.

I would be tutoring a Japanese student in ESL. Another highlight of my week. Yukari's English is pretty broken, which makes school a significant challenge for her. When she arrived in Battle Creek a year ago, her English was practically zero, so I hope I am being a help to her. And I hope that some of the efforts I've made to share the gospel with her have planted seeds in her life. She is an enjoyable person, but often sad and angry and I think lonely.

I would be substitute teaching in the public schools. Whoa, this one is a challenge. I go to most of the districts in my county, which puts me in schools ranging from easy, small town kids to extremely challenging inner-city kids, from sweet angels to rotten devils. Seriously. Right now, I have an extended position teaching 5th grade in one of the easy schools. After a solid week of dealing with 25 nutso bouncy kids, I came home today and crashed on the couch for 3 hours. But I enjoy them. I really love working with kids and teens. With the events of this week, I felt it would be good to lead the class in a small discussion, so that's how we started the day this morning. Their perception of what had happened at Virginia Tech was interesting to hear, and it led to a good conversation on multiple topics: Difference; Respect; Compassion; Violence; Psychosis; How hurtful and destructive our words can be; Race.

I would be working in a bookstore. This one is stunningly boring. Can't stand it anymore. But the discounts, free book loans, and 50% off Starbucks are nice perks.

I might end up settling here for a long time. At the invitation of my pastor, I am in the midst of working with my church to develop a new pastoral position for myself. Initially, all I wanted was to get out of here. But as time has passed, I've seen all that God is doing and all the potential for great ministry. I've come to care a lot for the people and possibilites. So, hopefully in a month or so, there will be a definite job here for me and I'll be able to move into my own apartment and get to work. I'm psyched! In fact, I recently turned down an amazing job offer at a university in Korea because I really believe God has something right here for me.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Tue, 19 Dec 2006 21:33:37 GMT

Recent chocolate adventures.

I spent an evening making my first filled, moulded chocolates earlier this week. I jumped in with both feet, not really knowing what the heck I was doing, but determined to make something that tasted good and at least looked edible. They actually look better than I'd thought, and they taste wonderful. The filling (ganache) is milk chocolate with anise and cognac, although I would've liked both the anise and cognac to have a stronger flavor. The shells are a mixture of white and dark chocolates. I was grouchy and edgy most of the time making them, because it was such a difficult and precise process, and I was sure I'd end up with pile of bad chocolate that looked like crap. Still learning and having fun with it.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Thu, 14 Dec 2006 00:08:22 GMT

My head is being hunted.

I got to a point in my job searching where I pretty much just quit searching. While having dinner with limitingcase and his lovely girlfriend in Ann Arbor a few weeks ago, he explained to me the process of searching for a job in economics. The whole process is extremely standardized, streamlined, and logical. Everything searching for a ministry job is not. So after sending out lots of resumes and sermon samples, making phone calls, getting hopes up, etc etc etc, I thought, what's the point? I got busy with Barnes and Noble and Japanese ministry and church stuff, and figured God would bring something my way when he got around to it. Then a couple months ago a Christian headhunter called me from Minneapolis. His firm was contracted by Intervarsity North Central Region to find a new Area Director for the Twin Cities and he had seen my resume online. I've had 3 phone interviews with him over the last couple months, and he just told me that he's recommended me to IV for the position. The next thing is to meet and interview with the IV regional director. The position and the opportunities are pretty cool, albeit very different from the kinds of things I've done and involve a tremendous amount of managerial responsibilities.

Meanwhile, I've also been in conversation with IV here in Michigan. I had a meeting with the area director in my area a couple weeks ago, and will meet tomorrow with the regional director. There are some pretty exciting positions open around, too, including some international student ministry and area director jobs. It feels like something like this seems to be the direction God is leading in, which is both frightening and very exciting. A year ago I would've said no way will I ever raise my salary, but now I'm actually looking forward to it if this is the door that's being opened for me.

At any rate, life isn't all about the jobs we do or careers we have, and working at the book store has helped me to be more involved in life right now. To be honest, my job has caused me some embarrassment as I've met people straight out of my long-ago past, people I haven't seen in years or even decades. And here I am selling them books in Battle Creek for $7 an hour. I was supposed to be the one who got out of town and went off to exotic places and did cool things. The first few times that happened, I'd try to explain how this was just temporary, blah blah blah, but now I don't care. Well no, I do care, but not as much. There's still always that twinge of self-consciousness and I think to myself, Oh no, I don't want them to see me here. But I don't try to defend myself unless they ask. I suppose I need to be humbled a little.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Tue, 05 Dec 2006 22:27:44 GMT

Time for another one of my sporadic entries.

The best news is that it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! Yay! Usually I look forward to Christmas with electric anticipation--kranestyle and I have that in common--but for some reason this year it doesn't seem to be so exciting. But I am loving winter. This morning I went for a hike in the snowy woods. The snow is absolutely dry, light, and fluffy, like tufts of new cotton hovering on the surface of things. This is one of the best times of year. There's nothing like standing outside on a moonlit night, snow lazily spiraling downward, making little dull plinking noises as it hits tree limbs and ground. I had to drive up to Holland yesterday, crawling through a blizzard that dumped at least 6 inches up there. We only got a couple inches here in Battle Creek.

Well so that's the weather.

The most interesting book I've been asked to help someone find at Barnes and Noble was "How to Have Sex Like a XXX Porn Star." Yep, there were two copies right there on the shelf in Self Improvement/Sexuality. And of course I had to be smiley and polite and friendly and helpful, all the while thinking, what the??!! We also have a pop-up sex book. I've retrieved books on Wicca and the Occult for quite a few people, and have sold an abundance of Penthouse, Playboy, etc., etc., etc. Now I've probably gone and given some of you ideas.

I preached Sunday. I've always felt strongly that the past tense of preach should be praught. That only makes sense, since the past tense of teach is taught. So I praught on Sunday, the first in quite some time. I'm tutoring a Japanese girl in English, and she's fascinated and confused by how our American T often is pronounced like a D. In fact, in case you never thought much about it, Americans have at least four distinct pronunciations for the letter T: T, D, guttural swallow, and SH. Goes to show we are a complicated and confusing people.

Since I come from a family of artists, I wanted to share some of my dad's stained glass work with the world. These two pieces are in the yard near the massive pond/stream/waterfalls he built. The one to the left is a mosaic cemented onto the surface of a large flat rock.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Fri, 27 Oct 2006 05:08:12 GMT

I'm up late thinking about faithfulness. You know, one of those straightforward Christiany words that unleashes all kinds of complications when you really start thinking about it. I'm going to a Bible study on Hebrews, and the writer of Hebrews seemed to want to drive home the point that we gotta be faithful and trust and believe, OR ELSE.

Right now in my life, I'm really trying to just be faithful, because it seems like that's what the Holy Spirit has been telling me to do. But what does it mean to be faithful? It's got me kind of confused. Does it mean taking risks or being conservative? Does it mean staying put or flying off to the ends of the earth? Does it mean actively pursuing opportunities or just sitting back and waiting for God's move?

I've started tutoring a Japanese girl named Yukari. She's a tenth-grader at one of the local high schools. Her family moved here six months ago, so her English isn't so good and she's having some trouble in school. It's cool to spend a couple hours with her every week, mostly just talking to give her a chance to flex her English muscles. Yesterday I brought her hot apple cider and made her describe it to me in excrutiating detail. It was fun for me! Not to see her squirm (well, maybe just a little), but to be able to teach, and more importantly, to hopefully be the presence of Christ to her and her family.

I've also started working at Barnes and Noble. If I had to do a grunt job in a retail store, I'd say this is a pretty good grunt job in a pretty good retail store. I sold a couple issues of Playboy my first day. And all the while, the guy was talking about his wife.

So I'm trying to figure out what it means to be faithful when I'm sitting with Yukari at her dining room table, or when I'm running up profits at Barnes and Noble. Or while I'm searching endlessly for a job.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Sun, 15 Oct 2006 23:34:13 GMT

Majestic Sandhill Cranes are on the move, a sure sign of Autumn here in lower Michigan. I'm loving my first Autumn in Michigan after being away for so many years. The annual Crane Festival is this weekend, and at the little audobon sanctuary not far from my house, up to 6,000 cranes are meeting up for their big journey south for the winter. Today, we saw two bald eagles out among the cranes, which was definitely cool. Friday night, a friend took me to the audobon benefit dinner, a sumptuous feast of lobster bisque, london broil, chicken and veggie korma, and lots of pies. But even better, a sommelier was on-hand to walk us through each of the five wines chosen to go with the meal, all produced by the Sandhill Crane Vineyards here in Michigan. I bet you had no idea that any wine came from Michigan, but here in the lower peninsula there are about 45 wineries. A professional photographer gave a long presentation of his photos of Michigan's landscape and nature. As I saw one breathtaking picture after another, I felt like I was not only worshiping God, but also thanking him for bringing me back to my home state . I bet you didn't realize Michigan also has 3,200 miles of coastline, most of which is pristine dunes, beaches, and deep woods. And I mean real dunes, not those piddly piles of sand on Cape Cod they call dunes.

(Sleeping Bear Dunes)

It snowed this week!!! Praise God for snow, I love it! It was especially beautiful on the rusted autumn leaves.

I spent three days this week at a little monastery tucked back in the countryside down near the Indiana border. Monks in long, black robes, chanting, candles, that sort of thing. I spent most of the time reading, and came across the poetry of St. John of the Cross (1500s). I was immediately enamored with his rich, profound verses about Jesus' love, and wrote a few down. Here's one of my favorites:

A lone young shepherd lived in pain
Withdrawn from pleasure and contentment,
His thoughts fixed on a shepherd-girl
His heart an open wound of love.

He weeps, but not from the wound of love,
There is no pain in such a wound
However deeply it wounds the heart;
He weeps in knowing he's been forgotten.

That one thought: his shining one
Has forgotten him, is such great pain
That he gives himself up to brutal handling in a foreign land,
His heart an open wound with love.

The shepherd says: I pity the one
Who draws himself back from my love,
And does not seek the joy of my presence,
Though my heart is an open wound with love for him.

After a long time he climbed a tree,
And spread his shining arms,
And hung by them, and died,
His heart an open wound of love.

So I haven't gotten a job yet, which has been a source of some frustration and testing of my patience. I have applied for a campus pastor position at Western Michigan University, which I'm really really and really excited about, but am having to do the hard work of waiting for the ever-so-slow process. In the meantime, I'm getting involved again in my old childhood church, and starting to get involved with the ministry to Japanese expats and students our church has (bet you had no clue there would be a Japanese community here. Yep, there is). Just today, I met with the Japanese pastor and came on board a new ministry he's starting up to bring Japanese and American high school kids together. Pretty cool stuff.

So that's life in the slow lane at the moment.

Since I'm waxing lyrical about Michigan, here are a couple pics I took while backpacking this spring along Lake Superior in the upper peninsula's Porcupine Mountains: