I’m taking a seminary class on preaching because it is required for my degree and because it is something I enjoy… or at least I thought I enjoyed. The professor allowed me to use my previous seminary course to take the place of preaching 101 so I didn’t have to retake it- though I had to read his 100 page teaching manuscript and take notes on it. I did this.

The next course is 102, in which you give two teachings to a group of seminary students as the main focus of the course. He is allowing me to do this in an independent study format with him instead. So, I gave him a DVD of my last 2 teachings at Journey in the main service and we’ve been meeting to review them. 2 weeks ago we met and he told me all the things I did wrong in my summer teaching. He was unhappy with my speed, my volume, my hand in my pocket… etc. He said a lot of stuff I’ve had others say in the past… I thought I’d made major moves in the right direction. But evidently I had a lot of work to do still. I believed most of his concerns would be different in my next message.

Today I met with him about my teaching 6 weeks ago. (Side bar: at our church, I got more positive remarks from that teaching than any other I have given in recent years in any context. Our teaching pastor listened to the CD of the service and then gave me the most encouraging one sentence e-mail evaluation I’ve ever received in ministry. In the hallway, he then told me to tuck it away if I ever needed to use one in the future for a guest teaching. He loved it.) I secretly hoped my professor would be more encouraging and affirm it as quality work. Well… not so much. He started our meeting with the words, “I don’t want to discourage you.” He then ripped it apart. Didn’t like my observations in the text. Didn’t see the point in some of my illustrations. Rewrote my outline. Didn’t like how I read my Bible. Pretty much 1 page of “atta boys” and 3 pages of cutting.

I’m trying hard to be a learner. I’m trying hard not to be too defensive and to live my previous blog post in real time. I really want the constructive criticism. I want to be coached and go from an average communicator (or whatever I am) to a master at the craft. I’d love that. I’ll admit that correcting my teaching is complicated emotionally cuz it’s like coaching my parenting… I really want help but most of it extends from who I am. So, any correction also has large teeth by default and I’m pretty vulnerable as my own worst critic anyway. But we disagree on a lot- philosophically and otherwise and this coaching is hard and I evidently don’t get to pick my coach.

Next week I’m supposed to prepare my weekend teaching to high school students with him so he can see how I put a talk together. I feel like I’m 15 again. I also feel like maybe I should have been a contractor instead of a youth pastor. I’d have a reason to buy new tools and write them off. I might be richer. I’d work from 7am to 4pm. I would not feel like dirt right now.

Ok.. pity party now over. I’m going to go lick my wounds. Take a shower. Ask God if there’s any truth in these statements. I’ll also put my contractor application down and step up to the preaching plate again 5 days from now in front of some high school students. Maybe I’ll sacrifice bunt 🙂

I recently bought a Ben Harper CD on an “itunes original”. It has commentary between the songs that, I assume, are not on store bought CD’s. I’m kinda surprised at how much I enjoy the content of the songs so much more, hearing what Ben was thinking (we’re on a first name basis… me and Ben ya know). Anyway, in my humble opinion, the first one on the CD is worth the money by itself. (there’s another right before a song called “My Kisses” that’s money too) But, because I love you- “the never to comment on my blog but faithful anonymous blog reader nonetheless”- I took the time to transcribe his first comments for you. Here you go:

There are thousands of applications to this, but in my world as a youth pastor and follower of Jesus.. I thought in my context it reaffirmed 3 things in me today.

Well, something in the neighborhood of 10 years ago, Shannon and I made a decision to do the Santa thing with our kids. I think it was automatic parenting decision for both our parent’s generation, but somehow by the time we had kids, there was a rethinking going on among some of our peers- mostly the “Christian” ones. A small but vocal contingent started deciding that to teach one’s children the Santa Story was to do two things that went against the grain of all things good and holy.

We however, at the risk of being viewed as a pagan-pastor-family by some, decided we did not agree with those assumptions and that a little childhood fable was good for the soul and just plain fun. So, we started the Santa story with our kids and have taken them to see his helper in the mall and the whole bit ever since. (We also do the tooth fairy… but no Easter bunny.- not sure why- just what we do)

Well, today, that story came to a close for my oldest. Shannon and I had been talking about it and TJ (age 9 1/2) was starting to ask a lot of questions. We decided we were now beginning to cross a line that went from sincere story telling and into lying to our curious kid who was, in our estimation, old enough to keep the secret for his little brothers and ready to know the truth for himself.

So, today on a car ride, I broke the news to him. This was kinda weird for me, cuz it was a car ride in my Dad’s truck that I had my first “birds and the bees” talk. I have no idea when my parents told me about Santa (my wife remembers vividly this conversation with her Mom), but I remember my Dad telling me about sex on my way to soccer camp. This was a little too weird for me in a strange deja vu moment, but maybe this is where all men do their man to man talking. Not really sure on that- but we had a heart to heart in my truck on the way to home depot and RCP block and brick anyway. Future post on the “birds and the bees” talk with TJ is a little ways away I think- probably on a long drive somewhere evidently.

Anyway, it started out as a discussion on the difference between telling stories and telling lies. We talked about the stories told at Christmas and how some things told are truth, and some are make believe. We talked about parables and flying reindeer and keeping secrets and surprises and miracles and magic, etc… and then I broke the news to him. He didn’t cry. He didn’t fuss. He did get quiet and think for a moment. Here’s a few memorable quotes after I told him:

This year we had the smallest guest list of recent years. Several friends I invited had other plans and even some of my regular family, like my parents, who are normally at the table could not make it this year. But while they were all missed, we surely ate like they were all there nonetheless. I BBQ’d the bird for my third year in a row. I did try one thing new this year: an edible fruit center basket. It wasn’t perfect, but not bad for my first try. They wanted over a hundred bucks to get it from a professional fruit basket bouquet company I found on the web… but I made if for more like $20. Grandma made the stuffing and the pies and a new addition she brought to the table: twice baked yams you got to “dress” as you pleased before she baked them the second time as you desired. I put mini-marshmallows, raisins, cranberries, walnuts, and brown sugar on mine before they went back in for a re-heating. Shannon did the green beans and mashed potatoes. The kids helped set the table and eat it all up.

We have a few other family traditions. We have some red and gold china that I inherited from family in Santa Fe that we have dubbed the “thanksgiving dishes”. Because of their color scheme, they are all we’ve ever eaten thanksgiving dinner on for as long as I can remember- this year was no different. Also, I think it was somewhere around the time TJ learned to talk, someone started a tradition called the “blessing pot”. Before the meal is served, everyone writes what they are thankful for, or a “blessing” on a sheet of paper, and then after the meal, we read them. Only rule is you can’t read your own. It always good, and this year was kinda fun cuz Tyler is learning to read and write, so he made his own and read his own for the first year all by himself.

Here’s what I wrote:

“I am thankful for my family. Zeus going to dog school. The house we live in becoming our home. The chance to coach soccer with my boys. Our health. All that God is and does.”

Here’s what TJ wrote, cuz I thought it was a little funny and sweet at the same time:

“I am thankful for my family, relatives, friend, Zeus, turkey, oxygen, H20, and plates. I am thankful for a lot of things, but I am most thankful for God and that He gave everything to me.”

Here’s some photos I melted into one shot to commemorate the day:

No school on Wednesday. Grandma and Grandpa in town. We have Sea World passes…. So, I canceled some meetings and spent the day watching whales fly through the air. They have more control over a 5000 pound beast in the water than I do with my dog or my kids. That’s just a little depressing. Here’s my photo collage of the day. Enjoy your Thanksgiving with friends and family.