i don't know what to call this

So, I have resigned as Campus Minister at Campbell. On January 1, 2007, there will be a new way to describe Terry-Michael Newell, Jr. I am not sure what that description looks like. We’re not moving. We’re not selling our house (yet). However, I am probably selling my truck to get something a little older and less expensive and hopefully better on gas and for the environment. My wife is happy. My daughters are happy. And, our cat keeps drinking from the fish bowl (so I guess he’s happy too.)

I was not fired. I was not asked to resign. I am not disgruntled and I am not going to shoot anyone. I love being a Campus Minister. I love college students. I love Campbell. I love coffee. And, I love drinking coffee with college students at Campbell while being the Campus Minister.

This decision comes after a long period of thinking, praying, and writing in my journal. It’s a decision I feel very comfortable with even though there’s a lot that’s unknown in the not-so-distant future. The plans I have right now are these:

---enroll in a couple of counseling classes at Campbell
---complete a unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) in the winter/spring
---write a book about why 36 year-old guys shouldn’t quit a good job
---write another book about the risks of following God’s calling
---work part-time wherever I can to make sure our bills are paid (so, come on down to Lowes or Home Depot or Jiffy Lube and let’s chat about nails or screws or home improvement ideas or whether you’d like the full-package that includes your chassis lubed.)

All kidding aside, this is a drastic change. This is an emotional roller coaster (which makes it easier for me to sit in front of this computer and cry than to cry in front of each of you.) The last 10 years of serving in this role have taught me that my gifts and strengths as a person are centered in caring and counseling. I’m just wired that way. And my energy flows rapidly when helping others connect to a loving and relational God during critical times of life. It also runs rampant when someone simply needs to clarify what God is or is not saying about their own vocation. I love sitting with folks and trying to tame the unbridled spirit. I love being guided by the Spirit to stand with those who have been oppressed, mocked, beaten, depressed, suicidal, abused, or demoralized. I may not always have the answer, but I’m sure I have some questions that can help begin the journey of self-discovery.

I am not so clear about my own journey that I can describe it here for the entire world to see. But, I am sure that God is continually faithful to sustain me, whether I’m wandering through the wilderness or wrestling at the River of Jabbok. After the journey, I may be tired or I may be limping or I may be both. Either way, I am going with God.

I hope I get to see you along the way.

getting my toes wet

On many occasions, I reflect with folks about the issue of calling or vocation and over the last year or so, or even just in these moments of writing, I am reflecting on this issue myself. A new metaphor was given to me in book I’ve been reading. Calling is to “step into the flow of the river.”

As a youth minister in past years, I took a group to the New River in West Virginia to go whitewater rafting. It was on that trip that I had one of the scariest experiences of my life.

We expected to see mostly class 2 and 3 rapids, but because of huge amounts of rain, this portion of the river was experiencing class 5 rapids meaning they were more intense and more difficult to maneuver. As we approached each rapid, our guide gave us the necessary instructions on how to paddle, which side of the river we were to go on, and in case of an emergency, how to get out of trouble should we fall into the raging waters. Approaching a rapid named the Middle Keeney, our guide gave us the normal rundown and I remember him saying something that didn’t mean much until later. He said, “If you come out of the raft in this rapid, you will need to swim Olympic style to the eastern bank. There’s a huge hole on the left that you don’t want to have anything to do with.”

We hit the rapid and flipped over. Everyone was ejected from the raft including the guide. Having gone underwater just briefly, I surfaced only to see that I was moving very quickly to the forewarned place on the west side of the river. Likewise, one of my youth was moving in the same direction just ahead of me. I remember the waters forcing me in circular motion and after a few rotations, I began being pulled downward. The water was brown, then black. I was so far down I couldn’t see the sunlight and I thought life was over for me. But, the drain-like hole that was sucking me down spit me right back to the surface. If you believe that the creation of the life-preserver was a miracle, then this was a miracle. God acted on my behalf.

As soon as I could, I swam to the western bank and got out of the river. I could not see any of our group, boats, or guides. I was alone and out of the river. An emotional basket case, I hiked up the mountain to a set of railroad tracks. Crying. Praying. Cursing. Doubting. I wasn’t sure if I’d survived while someone else didn’t. I was afraid and although I’d come back to see the daylight, it felt dark outside. It felt dark inside too.

Once I saw some familiar looking rafts, I slid down the rocks and mud to the river and found our entire group safe and looking for me in the water. I flagged them over and when they reached the large rock I was sitting on the guide put out his hand to help me back in the boat. I asked him, “How far is it to hike from here?” “A long way,” he replied. I asked, “Is there any other way besides getting back in that boat?” “Realistically? No,” he said. I had to get back into the boat, back into raging, deep waters, and face my fears in order to continue the journey.

Over the last year, I have felt much the same way I did once I reached the shore after our raft capsized and stepped out of the water. I have been hiking here and there, wandering and wondering about life, ministry, and vocation. Crying. Praying. Cursing. Doubting. And, now I’m facing this new image of calling, stepping into the flow of the river. I can see the movement of the water, but I can’t measure its depth. I can see ahead for just a short distance, but I don’t know where the river goes.

To quote myself in conversations with others about life and vocation, “the life of faith is a life of taking risks.” Maybe it’s time to listen to the Guide saying, “It’s a long way to get where we’re going. Realistically? You can hike your own way if you want. Or, you can step into the flow of the river and I will be your Way, Truth, and Life.”

hunger pains

I give a lot of advice in response to email. What follows is an excert from a recent response that I thought might be worth sharing about church. How far out there am I?


Don't feed yourself off someone else's plate. Fix your own. The buffet bar is open and has lots of choices. Plus, you can order from the menu or even go home and cook from exotic cuisines available from all kinds of places. Your palette is unique. God made you (us?) that way. You might call this "Kingdom Feasting" or "Dining with Jesus." A "traditional" meal sounds boring, but a meal rooted in a certain tradition sounds adventurous, and I think church is the intersection of faithful lives setting out on an adventure.

hunger pains

I give a lot of advice in response to email. What follows is an excert from a recent response that I thought might be worth sharing about church. How far out there am I?


Don't feed yourself off someone else's plate. Fix your own. The buffet bar is open and has lots of choices. Plus, you can order from the menu or even go home and cook from exotic cuisines available from all kinds of places. Your palette is unique. God made you (us?) that way. You might call this "Kingdom Feasting" or "Dining with Jesus." A "traditional" meal sounds boring, but a meal rooted in a certain tradition sounds adventurous, and I think church is the intersection of faithful lives setting out on an adventure.

taste and see...living like a refugee

Sunday morning at church my oldest daughter asked if she could take communion. Now, remember she's not been baptized, confirmed, or anything of that nature. Pausing during worship, I took out my "notes" journal (to be distinguished from my "narrative" journal.) I don't really refer to either in this way. Most of the time it's "the little journal" and “the other journal.” But, you probably get the picture of the difference. Anyway, here's what I jotted down...

7/2/06

Is the Eucharist a rite of initiation or is baptism the only one?

I think that taking communion can be a profession of faith as well as a symbol of faith.

Can Bailey have the Lord's Supper?

By all means!!
*****************
I guess I'll be labeled a heretic for sure, but for some reason that doesn't bother me in this case (or any others to be honest). Bailey is too curious and hopeful to give her some doctrinal supposition on initiation, rites and rituals. I am afraid of what that would do to her spiritual curiosity which, as I have said before, is just as much a spiritual gift as anything else.

So, she took the bread up to her 9 year old mouth and placed it on her tongue. As it dissolved, she said, "Mmmm, that was good bread." As she held her cup (yes, the tiny baptist shot glasses), she quietly stared at it. I have no idea what she was thinking, but when the pastor gave us the liturgical nod to partake of the cup, Bailey didn't gulp it all down at once like most of us did. She took one little sip, then said, "Ahhh." She looked back at the rest of the cup's holy contents, paused, and then finished.

Am I a horrible theologian/father? Probably. Breaking with church tradition seems my style while simultaneously confessing a firm connection to the ancient church and her practices and teachings. But, never risking the chance to practice evangelism with my daughter. Inconsistent? Yeah, probably that too. But, constantly hoping that the Christian faith is more about discovery than dogma.

I reflect on Sunday morning's experience remembering the words of the Psalmist, "O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those who take refuge in him." (Ps. 34.8)

Taste and see...

emergent and humpty dumpty...putting the pieces back together

What's your theological worldview?

Contrary to local myth, I'm no liberal.

My results...

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern.
You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this.

Emergent/Postmodern - 86%
Neo orthodox - 64%
Classical Liberal - 61%
Modern Liberal - 50%
Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan - 50%
Roman Catholic - 39%
Charismatic/Pentecostal - 29%
Reformed Evangelical - 18%
Fundamentalist - 4%

differences between old monkeys and young dolphins

When I was 7 years old, I was scheming to see how my friends and I could swing from tree to tree in the forest behind our houses.

Here's how 7 year olds have changed...

Gloria, In Excelsis Deo

Most Mondays are too long. And this one was no different. After a long day of office work, teaching my evening religion class, and praying with our worship team following their practice, I needed a little decompression time. Somewhere close to 10:00 p.m., I sat down for the first time in several hours, flipped over to “Family Guy,” and started to unwind.

Our oldest daughter had stayed up too late working on Valentines for classmates and other friends (which by the way meant that I had to make a 9:30 p.m. run to the store to get blow pops to attach to each Valentine.) “Time for bed,” I said, reminding her that mom and baby sister were already asleep. “Can I watch a little bit of TV?” she asked. “Sure, but just for a little while.” This meant that I could withdraw to loosen whatever was making my neck and shoulders tight.

Back to “Family Guy.”

Not even 60 seconds after tuning in and moving pillows to make sure I was comfortable, I heard the TV from my daughter’s room. It was a great organ rendition of “Angels We Have Heard on High.” My first thought was, “How nice? Disney is getting religious in some way.” The organ prelude continued and I knew something else was going on. I went to her room and found that she was watching our wedding video!

I saw our wedding attendants entering the sanctuary on a cool December day in 1992. I saw a beautiful bride escorted down the aisle to marry me. I saw my sister shed tears of joy as her baby “bubba” married his high school sweetheart. I saw great granddaddy sitting with his daughter my grandmother. I saw Grandma Duffy. I saw children who are now adults. I saw young men and women who are now dead. I saw gay folks who were still in the closet. I saw marriages that are now divorces, teachers that are now friends, and friends that I wish I knew their email addresses. I saw Ken who died of something I can’t remember. I saw Bethany who died because a drunk man decided to drive. Bethany used to call me Elvis. I saw my sideburns which is probably why she called me Elvis.

We watched the vows. We heard “for better or worse, in poverty or wealth.” But, the most striking thing came as the bride and groom prayed on the kneeling bench. One of our friends sang a long, slow version of “The Lord Prayer.” I sat on the edge of the bed with tear-filled eyes knowing that I was watching the most significant worship service of my life.

Then, in a tone that is unique to an eight year old, our daughter says, “Aren’t you glad you broke up with that other girl?!!”

Yes. I am.

behold, i am making all things new

Our 8 year old daughter said something interesting to me last Sunday night. She said she wants to be baptized. The minister and theologian in me wanted to turn this conversation into something significant and enlightening where she could grow in her understanding of Christ and the symbol of baptism. The skeptic in me wanted to root out the real reason she wanted to take this step. The daddy in me just wanted to grab her, hug her, and rush to the church right then to splash around in the ritualistic pool.

Is this because one of her best friends was baptized last year and she's trying to keep up? Is this because she saw two children baptized this past Christmas Eve? Or is Jesus really stirring around in her in some significant ways? Is it all of this? Is it something else?

I am curious to see where this goes.

I am not sure there's a connection (but maybe there is!) but a few weeks ago I was giving our newborn a bath. Washing her. Playing with her. Laughing at her. The older daughter was nearby, doing something with mommy and maybe? taking in what was going on in some way. As the bath came to its end, baby sister became irritated and fussy. Like most parents, when this happens you do whatever comes to mind to bring this kind of experience to an end. QUICKLY! Our habit is to sing. The song that came to my mind was based on a passage Paul wrote in the New Testament. I have no idea if I'd heard this elsewhere. Almost in good spiritual form, I began to sing...

There is no condemnation for you.
There is no condemnation for you.
O, there is no condemnation, be ye reconciled to Jesus.
There is not condemnation for you.

We are reconciled to Jesus today.
We are reconciled to Jesus today.
We are reconciled to Jesus, there is no condemnation.
We are reconciled to Jesus today.

Paul put it this way in 2 Corinthians 5: 16-20...

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

Perhaps, there's a spiritual awakening going on in our family that will lead one of us, or all of us, to spiritual rebirth as we continue to recognize our role as Christ's ambassadors being re-created. And everything becomes new.

house repairs

"The time to repair the roof is when the sun is shining." John F. Kennedy

More and more I think it is time to fix the roof because there might be a deluge coming and no one likes getting that wet.