Angel Island

For about the past month or so, Gary and I had designated last weekend to be our 'official backpacker's initiation camping trip weekend'. You see, we love hiking, and we love camping, but we'd not yet combined the two. And, since we have most of the gear necessary to make such a trip feasible, thought it to be something we should try.

Well, the short version of the story is that last weekend we had to be flexible and change our plans, and save the overnighter for another day. To be more honest, we had to change plans a few, ok, many many times. By the time we landed on "Plan W", or whatever it was, we found ourselves headed to the BART station to take the train to San Francisco, to take the ferry to Angel Island, to hike a trail with numerous expansive views of the bay. Trust me, I have no complaints, because we had a truly wonderful day in a gorgeous location. Which of course, merits one of my famous photo-blogs, so you can enjoy it with me. =)

Before we even got to the location, I had to snap this pic: I love the lines of the track, and the roof, and the sun, and shadows...


Once we arrived in San Francisco, we headed to Pier 41 and climbed on the Blue & Gold ferry. This is the view of the city as we pulled away:


We zipped right past Alcatraz. It seemed so close to the mainland!


Once we landed at Angel Island, we found the trail that would take us to the summit:


After hiking just a few minutes, you get a nice view of the harbor and the dock:


A few more minutes, and the view widens:


I would have walked right past this unique flower, if Gary hadn't stopped me:


After two hours of climbing, we were rewarded with a 360 degree view of the bay, the city of San Francisco, and numerous bridges.




The sun shone on our faces, and a gentle breeze kept us cool.


It's the little things, though, that take my breath away:


On this hike, Gary spotted all the cool stuff, including a pair of vultures, perched just 15 feet below our trail. Here's one of them, checking ME out:


Yep, I'm such a poser. Posing with the posies.


Humans weren't the only ones enjoying the fine afternoon. How cute is this family?


On the ferry ride home, we enjoyed watching the boaters sail by the Golden Gate Bridge.


There you have it... the Westons explore Angel Island!

A Living Eucharist

In Chapter Six of JWTSC (see immediately previous post), Rob Bell and Don Golden talk about the concept of Eucharist.

The word itself comes from the Greek word eucharizomai, meaning thankful or thanksgiving. Literally the word means “to give what is good.” Thus, we can say that what we celebrate in the Eucharist (or the Lord’s Supper, or Communion, or whatever your tradition calls it) is God’s “good gift” to mankind, the gift of Jesus Christ. Through His sacrifice on the cross, God reconciles all of creation to Himself. Jesus’ body was broken and His blood was poured that you and I might reap the benefits of forgiveness and eternal life.

And this is the authors’ intent in talking about Eucharist. As they put it, “For someone to receive, someone has to give...If someone somewhere benefits, then someone somewhere has paid something.” (pg. 149)

Eucharist is about sacrifice. About a good gift that is given, but not without a price.

The Eucharist we celebrate is all about the body of Christ being broken, and the blood of Christ being poured out, for the sake of others. Thus, if we who would call ourselves Christians are truly the body of Christ, then a Christian ought to be “a living Eucharist, allowing her body to be broken and her blood poured out for the healing of the world.” (pg. 150)

That is our calling. That is life in the way of Jesus. Seeking to be broken and poured out for the sake of others. It’s why we still marvel at the lives of Mother Teresa, and Hudson Taylor, and Jim Elliot, and Brother Andrew. They were broken and poured out for God’s glory, and it cost them something. We marvel at these lives because there’s something in us that knows they are what life in Christ is supposed to be.

The problem is, we look at these heroes of the faith and subconsciously we say, “I’m no Mother Teresa. I'm glad she did what she did, but I could never do that, so I’m going to abandon this brokenness thing altogether.”

And that is where we miss the mark. The way of brokenness, the path of descent, is a journey. It is a counter-cultural lifestyle that must be learned and nurtured and mastered over time. It is a day-by-day yielding to the Holy Spirit by which we surrender more and more control over our lives to God, until we have eventually given Him everything. It is then that we will be living the Christian life as it was meant to be lived.

So where to begin this journey of brokenness? The authors raise a couple of questions that are of help here:

The Eucharist is what happens when the question is asked, What does it look like for us to be a Eucharist for these people, here and now?

What does it look like for us to break ourselves open and pour ourselves out for the healing of these people in this time in this place? (pg. 158)

Think about your neighborhood. Your city. Your workplace. Your family. What would it look like to break yourself open and pour yourself out for the healing of others in these places?

Maybe it’s buying some groceries for a neighbor who’s unemployed. Maybe it’s buying those groceries every week until he gets a job.

Maybe it’s having lunch with a coworker you never talk to. Maybe it’s having lunch with them every week until you can call yourself friends.

Maybe it’s giving away everything in your house that you don’t need. Which is probably most everything you own.

Maybe it’s donating your best clothes to Goodwill, instead of giving them your worn out and ill-fitting clothes like we usually do.

Maybe it’s realizing that you have an extra bedroom and offering it to someone who is struggling financially, or maybe just to someone you want to share life with.

Whatever it is, whatever you do, it should cost you something and benefit someone else. If you can do it and not feel the sacrifice of it, it’s not Eucharist. At least, not Eucharist in the way of Christ.

Believe me, living as a Eucharist is as big a challenge to me as it is to anybody. But isn’t it a challenge worth taking? These ideas inspire me, and spur me on to want deeper sacrifices and more selflessness in my own life. Surely, living broken and poured out for the sake of others is not an easy way to live. But it is surely the best way.

Lord Jesus, grant me the strength today to break myself open and pour myself out for someone else. Take my selfishness from me and give me the courage to lay down my life, that others might be healed. I desire to be a Eucharist, just as You are a Eucharist. In Your Name, and for the sake of Your Glory, I pray. Amen.

Jesus Wants to Save Christians

I recently finished reading Rob Bell’s latest book, the provocatively titled, Jesus Wants to Save Christians: A Manifesto for the Church in Exile. Co-authored with Don Golden of World Relief, the book traces the history of the nation Israel through four time periods that correspond to the places where they occurred.

Egypt: The place of crying out to God, and experiencing God’s response to that cry, which is salvation.

Sinai: The place of covenant between the nation and God, of new identity and a new way of living.

Jerusalem: The place of distraction, where power corrupts the original vision of what the nation was meant to be, where they lose the thread of their own story.

Babylon: The place of exile, where the nation once again cries out to God and contemplates what comes next.

The authors use this pattern as a launching pad to talk about “the church in exile,” suggesting that we as Jesus followers have lost our own story, that we need to cry out to God for His restoration, and that we are faced with a great opportunity to re-imagine the church, to re-imagine ourselves as the people of God.

In all honesty, I found most of the book to be a bit of a slog. Not that it wasn’t engaging, but more that it seemed not to be going anywhere. But the last chapter and the epilogue blew me away. The rest of the book was simply setting the table for the feast of truthy goodness that was to come.

So I have decided to explore some of the ideas and themes put forth in the final chapter and epilogue, bit by bit, day by day, here on the blog. I do this in part to help solidify my own thinking and response, and in part to put forth these ideas in the hope that they will resonate with others as deeply as they have resonated with me.

The themes are deep and rich: being a living Eucharist to the people around us, seeking to live broken and poured out for the sake of others, discovering a new humanity in our church community, avoiding the dangerous seduction of demographics and marketing, embracing the path of descent as Jesus did, to name a few.

I can’t say how long this examination will last, or that there will be significant insight gained from the experience. None the less, I’m excited for the endeavor.