#67 Keep the Change, You Filthy Animal

Last night we had a youth group movie night at the parsonage. We watched Home Alone, which is the greatest Christmas comedy ever for three reasons:

A. The pizza delivery guy (and later Marv) running away because he thinks he's being shot:


2. Harry's face when he's under the blowtorch:

D. Uncle Frank's response to the huge mess Kevin creates:


Such a classic movie.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#66 Christmas Wars?

Only two weeks are left before Christmas! Most, if not all, of us are busy getting ready to celebrate the holiday and enjoy some time off from work. It's been common around this time of year to hear about a "War on Christmas." There's debate about whether department store employees should wish customers "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." There might even be complaints about seasonal coffee cups or some other special promotion. Personally, I'm sick of hearing about all of it. I think we Christians are missing the point. I'm pretty sure the devil must sit and laugh at how Christians get all bent out of shape about greetings while we're totally comfortable with all the materialism and busyness of Christmas time. If we Christians want to be worried, we should worry about if we're thinking more about presents than about the meaning of Jesus' birth. We should worry about if we make ourselves so busy at Christmastime that we neglect to reflect on God's love or make our worship just another thing to do. If we've made Christmas a competition to have the best decorations or give or receive the best gifts, if we've made Christmas a time of stress or self-absorption or distraction, then we've already lost the real war.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#65 Stranger Magnet

My life has changed in a lot of ways since Lanie's birth. I spend a lot more time on the floor than I did before. I read the same books over and over and over. (And we still haven't reached the point where she can tell me which book she wants. Then I'll read an even smaller group even more often.) Things like leaving the house and getting into the care have become time-consuming processes. And strangers talk to me much more often.

I'm definitely still adjusting to that last one. Going out and about used to be a pretty quiet experience. Other than some polite chit-chat with cashiers and waiters/waitresses, I would shop and run errands without a whole lot of human interaction. Since I'm an introvert, I was happy to go about my business on my own. But when I bring Lanie to the grocery store or Walmart or out to eat, other people love to say hello to Lanie and ask me how old she is and tell me that she's very cute or sweet or happy. I know that Lanie loves the attention, and I enjoy the conversation, too. But I feel bad for the people who stop and talk to us. Most of my errands are run on Mondays, my day off. If you've ever been around me on a Monday, you've noticed that I can be pretty nonverbal. It's my recovery time. So these poor polite strangers often don't get a whole lot more than a startled look and a short answer from me. Hopefully the more Lanie and I get out, the better at replying I'll be. And if I remain awkward, well, at least I won't see most of these people again.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#64 Power and Perversion

Lately the news has been filled with people stepping forward with stories of sexual harassment, sexual misconduct, and sexual assault. These stories are repulsive and horrifying. However, I think it is good that they come to light to keep us from ignoring the sin and evil in our midst. These stories of improper sexual behavior should lead us to some honest reflection.

First, I think we need to take these accusations seriously. When it comes to the courts, a person is rightfully considered innocent until proven guilty. We must remember that when dealing with the alleged perpetrators. But we must be especially careful not to dismiss those who come forward as victims with accusations. We should respect their courage to report deeply painful and often embarrassing stories, even if these reports come many years after the fact. Such serious accusations deserve careful investigation. Such terrible violations of privacy and intimacy should have consequences. Sexual aggression and misbehavior are not unforgivable, but we can't forget or ignore the great harm caused by these actions.

Second, I think we need to take a close look at how we think about, talk about, teach, and practice sex. Again and again these stories tell of powerful people exploiting their power for their own pleasure. I certainly don't have all the answers, but I think a big part of problem is that our society believes that sex is something we need and something we deserve. We—maybe especially we males—are taught that we have the right to have sex. Sex is treated as something to be taken or gotten or won—whenever, however, and with whomever we want. So we think it's a sign of our power to have go farther sexually or to be sexually intimate with more people. We think power can and should be used to satisfy our sexual desires.

But those ideas are perversions. They're wrong, plain and simple. Sex is not about power or right. When sexual activity arises out of a power imbalance, we've done wrong because someone is being mistreated and used. Sex is supposed to be given and shared. Sex is about intimacy. Sex really involves weakness; it's a gift of being able to be naked and vulnerable with someone else. We don't need sex to live, and we sure don't have the right to it. When it comes to sex, God wants us to be concerned for our partner's well-being before our own, just as God wants us to put others before ourselves in everything else. We need to stop believing lies about sex. Outside of God's instructions, we only hurt each other and get hurt ourselves. We need to stop turning a blind eye toward sexual misbehavior and violence. With God's help we need to control ourselves before anyone else experiences awful trauma, pain, and shame.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#63 The Death of Superman

I'm going to talk about superheroes this week. If you're not interested in reading about comic books and comic book movies, feel free to skip this post and come back next week. I won't be offended.

On Saturday Tess and I went to see Justice League. I told Tess that I have been waiting to see this movie since we walked out of the theater after seeing Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice on March 26, 2016. Even with the crushing weight of my anticipation and expectations, I really enjoyed the movie. I thought all the heroes were great and the action sequences were really cool. Most of all, I loved that Superman (to steal from Batman Begins) was "more than just a man" but rather a "legend." Superman was an inspiration, an ideal. As a Superman fan, I loved it. If you're at all interested in this sort of movie, check it out. The fact that I liked Justice League doesn't mean you will or have to like it, but I think you'll have fun.

Saturday was also the 25th anniversary of the release of Superman #75—the issue where Superman dies at the conclusion of his fight with the monster Doomsday. This story was a HUGE deal. It sold a ridiculous number of copies. Personally, I have a special connection to The Death of Superman storyline. As far as I can remember, I've always liked Superman, but The Death of Superman played a big role in making me a true Superman fan. When I was a teenager, I came across a trade paperback that collected the seven issues of the storyline, and I bought it almost on a whim. It was the first comic I'd ever owned, and I absolutely loved it. The action was intense and fast-paced, and there were also great emotional character moments, highlighting Superman's determination and Lois Lane's fear. Here was a true hero, a man who cared so much about the world that he would die to protect other people. (Side note: This heroic idea is also a big part of why I enjoy Batman v Superman so much.) I developed a ton of respect and admiration for the character of Superman. I wanted to know more and more about his adventures. The Death of Superman was my first real taste of Superman, and I was hooked. Thanks to some birthday money, my collection of Superman stories grows by a couple volumes each year. I've since found other stories that I enjoy even more than The Death of Superman, but that storyline will always be special to me because it showed me a whole new world. For a while now, Superman comics have been one of my favorite ways to unwind and recharge. So, twenty-five years later, I'm thankful for "the day that a Superman died."

Grace and peace,
BMH

#62 The Cranky Mathematician Strikes Again

I've covered some heavy topics in my blog over the past few weeks, so I think it's time for a shorter and lighter post. As a mathematics major, I am quite particular about using numbers in an appropriate and accurate way. So occasionally I use this blog to rant about some little thing that really bothers me, even though most people probably never consider it. This is the third installment in this series.

I can't stand it when people make up large numbers, such as "zillion" or "bajillion." (Wikipedia helpfully refers to such terms as "indefinite and fictitious numbers" or "non-numerical vague quantifiers.") What, is the literally infinite amount of numbers that exist in our world not enough for you? Are you too lazy to come up with a real number? If you tell me that you baked 17 bajillion cookies, I'll roll my eyes at you. If you tell me that you baked 17,452,739,214,805 (that's 17 trillion, 452 billion, 739 million, 214 thousand, 805) cookies, I will be very, very impressed. We're not running out of numbers, kids. Let's be creative!

Grace and peace,
BMH

P.S. Despite my crankiness, I am feeling a bit generous, so I will tolerate the use of the smaller fictitious number "umpteen." Don't push it, though.

#61 Refugees

This week I think we need to talk about refugees. I realize that many of you may consider this a controversial topic. However, I don't think refugees should be controversial at all for Christians, at least when we think in broad terms. My goal in this post is to clearly explain why.

First, I want to focus specifically on refugees, not on immigration in general. A refugee, according to the United Nations, is a person who, "owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his [or her] nationality and is unable to or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself [or herself] of the protection of that country." The U.N. estimates that there are 22.5 million refugees in the world today, and an additional 43 million people who have been forcibly displaced from their homes. (These additional people are still in their home countries.) As Christians we believe that every single human being is created in the image of God. God calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and Jesus makes it clear that God's definition of neighbor is broad enough to include everyone. So we must care for and care about refugees.

Second, there is a lot of misinformation and lies that are spread about refugees. We as Christians must speak the truth in love. So here is the truth. Under the U.S.'s current refugee screening system, refugees are not realistically a threat to the security of this nation. The Christian Reformed Church's Office of Social Justice says, "Refugees are the most intensely screened group of individuals to enter the United States. The U.S. resettlement process is the lengthiest and most robust in the world, taking from 18 months to three years and involving five governmental agencies with each case." You can read about the process here and here and here. The CATO Institute published an article two years ago that found that at that time, out of the 859,629 refugees the U.S. admitted since 2001, exactly 0 were convicted of murder. (For the sake of reference, that article notes that 1 in 22,541 Americans committed murder in 2014.) A 2016 CATO institute study concluded that between 1975 and 2015, the chance that a refugee would kill an American in a terrorist attack was 1 in 3,638,587,094 a year. And it makes sense that refugees wouldn't be a threat. If you waited years to find safety in a new country after fleeing from your own homeland, why in the world would you put that safety at risk by committing murder?

I'll try to wrap this up quickly. There are 22.5 million refugees without homes today, and the U.N. says the majority of these people are children. Refugees are fleeing for the lives, and many refugee camps and nearby countries are overwhelmed. I can't see how a loving, Christian response would not include supporting the resettlement of these well-screened refugees. I try to be careful as a pastor when it comes to politics. Here I feel the morals are clear: we should vote in favor of supporting as many refugees as we can. (By the way, when it comes to money, refugees only receive funding from the federal government for eight months. The Department of Health and Human Services says that over time refugees actually contribute more to our economy than they receive.) As part of the U.S.'s work in the United Nations, our government has agreed to take in refugees. We should urge our government to keep that promise. The government may decide not to do that. But we can still keep loving refugees. We can speak well about refugees and even advocate for them. We can work with organizations such as Bethany Christian Services to help settle refugees in the U.S. We can support organizations such as World Renew, which work to help refugees around the world. And finally, we can pray for refugees. We should never forget the suffering of our fellow human beings. We pray that God will bring safety, healing, and restoration soon.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#60 Remembering the Reformation

Happy Reformation Day! It's been 500 years since Martin Luther kicked off the Reformation. Obviously those of us who belong to the Protestant denominations that developed out of the teaching of Luther and the other Reformers have been greatly affected by the Reformation. The Roman Catholic Church, too, has changed much in the past five centuries, and those changes are at least partly due to the Reformation. We can and should be grateful for the assurance of salvation that comes from being justified by grace through faith. We also can and should be grateful for easy access to the Bible, for worship in our own language, and for the ability to participate in worship through singing.

But over the past 500 years, Jesus Christ's church has become more and more divided. We've reformed quite a bit, but there's a lot of reforming to do. After 500 years, I think it's time to shift our focus. Let's stop using our theology to divide; let's not treat our fellow Christians as strangers. And, Protestants, please, please, please, stop talking about "Christians" and "Catholics." Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, and Reformed Christians have all signed a wonderful document that describes our shared belief that we are made right with God through faith, not works. (Learn more here!) Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant Christians all affirm some version of the Nicene Creed. I sincerely hope that Jesus doesn't wait nearly 500 more years to return, but assuming that He doesn't, let's spend the next 500 years working together more and more. Let's make it our goal that in 500 years that are many, many fewer denominations than there are now.

Look, I know we have theological differences. I'm not saying we should relax our dedication to faithfully interpreting the Scriptures. But having differences in our beliefs shouldn't stop us from working together to serve our communities or from coming together for Bible studies or from meeting together for special worship services (even if we need to stay away from communion/Lord's Supper/eucharist/mass). And let's be honest. Some of our differences really aren't weighty enough to keep us separate. Revelation describes the church as the most diverse group of people ever assembled (see, e.g., Rev. 7:9). Think of the powerful witness it would be if we could belong to the same congregation even with our differences of opinion. There is one body and one Spirit, just as we were called to one hope when we were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. Let's pray for the Spirit to bring us to more complete unity. Let's try our hardest to work together. By God's grace, let's keep reforming according to God's Word to be more like our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#59 I Got Guns in My Head and They Won't Go

It's been a few weeks since the horrible shooting in Las Vegas, but I can't get it completely out of my head. A single mass shooting is too many. But here in the U.S. mass shootings happen frequently enough that they hardly surprise me. They scare me; they sadden me; they disgust me. But I can't say I'm surprised any more. I just want to know how many people have died. Thankfully we haven't seen other shootings as deadly as Las Vegas.

I'm worried about the threat of more mass shootings. But I'm also worried that we're getting desensitized to this sort of violence. I'm worried that we'll soon accept that these shootings are part of life—if we haven't already begun to think that way. I think we need to stop and remind ourselves again and again that this is not the way things are supposed to be. This is not the way things have to be. We need to stop and empathize with those who are suffering from these shootings. We should lament the pain that such violence causes. We should cry out to God to ask why so many families are left mourning for a daughter or a son or a sister or a brother or a mother or a father who's died. We should ask how long God will allow our world to continue down this agonizing, violent path.

But I think we should also face the reality of human evil and human violence. We should also examine ourselves. Have we started believing the lies of the world? Have we confused violence with strength? Have we convinced ourselves that we need to be armed to be safe? Have we accepted that guns are a natural part of life? I think that if we follow the Prince of Peace, we need to pray for reformed vision to see the world that Jesus is bringing. When the disciples misunderstood our Lord Jesus and tried to defend Him with swords, He rebuked them. Our God gave Isaiah a vision of a world where swords are beaten into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks, where all the garments of war are burned. God's Spirit scolded those who found their security in military might instead of God.

Now I know God commanded the Israelites to go to war under Joshua and wipe out the inhabitants of the land of Canaan. But that's a one-time thing. God was working out a specific purpose and a specific punishment on those peoples. And really all of the Israelites' wars through the time of David were the slow, full working out of God's special command. And I also know that Revelation describes Jesus returning as a warrior. But in both of these cases God Himself is taking specific action against specific groups. None of us can claim to have God's perspective or God's perfect judgment when it comes to violence. (Plus Jesus comes to fight what is the truly the war that ends all war.)

I'm not naive enough to think that we humans can eliminate violence. I'm not naive enough to think violence and weapons will disappear before Christ returns. But I refuse to believe that the only way to face the threat of guns is with more guns. I refuse to believe that I must arm myself in case violence breaks out around me. I refuse to believe that weapons can give me security. I won't tell you how to vote on gun issues. I won't tell you which position to take in the gun debate in the U.S. I won't tell you whether or not you can have guns or how many guns are too many guns. But I will ask you to reflect on this question: when it comes to guns, weapons, and violence, how can you and how can we live like people whose true citizenship is in heaven, who are journeying toward our home in the renewed world under the reign of the Prince of Peace?

Grace and peace,
BMH

#58 I Spent the Day with Superbabes

Today Lanie and I had quite the set of adventures. (You'll find this post much more enjoyable if you click on either of the videos below and listen to the theme from Superman [top] or Man of Steel [bottom] as you continue reading.)

We rescued a kitty stuck in a tree:

We did our best to recreate one of my favorite Superman covers (click here for the original):

We flew:

We lifted (and tossed) a huge elephant:

We examined the bottle city of Kandor:

We played with Krypto the Superdog:

We encountered and ran away from Kryptonite:

After saving the day, we were ready to pose for the front page of The Daily Planet:

Life is never boring with the Babes of Steel around!

Grace and peace,

BMH

P.S. One million bonus points if you know what the blog title is referencing.

#57 Persecution

On Sunday, I preached from 2 Timothy 3:10-17 to highlight the Reformation theme of Scripture alone. That passage picks up after Paul has been warning Timothy about the threat of false teachers. Paul urges Timothy to be different than these false teachers by following Paul's example and by standing firm in the truth of the Scriptures (and the Christian tradition that in Paul's time was still being solidified into the New Testament). Because I was focusing on the importance of the Word of God, I didn't have time to deal much with verse 12: "In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted." So I'd like to turn my attention there in this post.

Paul doesn't pull any punches here. Jesus suffered throughout His life and especially His ministry on earth, and so the followers of Jesus should expect to suffer. I don't think you could throw a stone into Paul's Christian past without hitting some instance of persecution, and Paul did not think that part of his experience was unique to him. And from everything I could learn, there's nothing uncertain about the translation there. There's no limiting the scope of "everyone," and there's no hint of uncertainty in "will be persecuted."

So what does persecution mean? As best as I can figure, it's not only what most people think when hear the word "persecution." Certainly, Paul's statement includes the idea of death threats, physical harm, systematic oppression, total social ostracism. Those things happen to Christians around the world, and we Christians who don't face those extreme difficulties should never, ever, ever forget our brothers and sisters who do. But there's quite a lot of religious freedom in some parts of the world, and a truly Christlike life is marked most of all by love (see John 13:35), so I'm not sure the full intensity of persecution is realistic for all Christians. So in order to apply Paul's statement to all Christians, I think persecution must include some more benign responses: mockery, harassment, partial social exclusion. I think persecution in this sense might even include suffering that isn't caused directly by other people: spiritual warfare, diabolical calamities along the lines of what Job experienced. The devil doesn't need to use other people to attack God's people.

(To the best of my knowledge, I think that's the best interpretation, but it's also a slightly dangerous one. It's easy to read that and conclude that because everything isn't right in our lives that we must be expereincing persecution for our faith. But for something to qualify as persecution, it must come as a result of a person's beliefs. Not every difficulty Christians face is tied to religion. I'm also a little worried about equating these milder forms of "persecution" with the death threats and total ostracism other Christians face. I don't know what their lives and struggles are like. I maybe need another word for the lighter troubles I described.)

But most of all, what I think the passage means is this: if our lives as Christians are comfortable, if everything is smooth sailing for us, I'm convinced we need to take a serious look at ourselves to see if we're really trying our hardest to live for Christ. Sometimes God does give us times of peace and flourishing, and I would never tell someone to go seek persecution. But I think I and most Christians I know are too comfortable with the world around us. We're too scared to stand up to the wrongs our culture willfully commits and doesn't consider wrong. We're too timid to truly love those our society considers unlovable. We hide our lights under bushels. We're losing our saltiness—if we haven't already lost it entirely. We need to stand up. We need to truly strive to live godly lives. We Christians need to be clearly different from those who care nothing about Christ. We need to be ready for persecution, but we also need to take heart from Paul's testimony: the Lord rescued him from all his troubles. Jesus is always with us to help us through.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#56 Wanted: Discussion

I don't use social media. I don't see a lot of tweets or Facebook posts in my daily life. But that hasn't been enough to prevent me from feeling like I've been drowning in a flood of hot takes, one-liners, and screamed opinions lately. To be honest, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of sound bites and knee-jerk reactions, and our insatiable desire for everyone else to hear our opinion—a desire that I clearly share on some level, or else I wouldn't continue writing this blog.

But the thing is, I can't just be sick of it. I can't just wash my hands of all the grandstanding and name-calling and endless rambling. As much as I'd like to, I can't just ignore all of this because there are real issues that precipitate these deluges of opinions. While I don't think it's worthwhile to argue about the U.S. flag and the national anthem, I think that those monologues are hiding a really important conversation about institutional and systemic racism in this country. There are other important conversations out there, too: conversations about immigration and the government's proper role in health care and gender identity. What I think I'd like—and what I'm pretty sure I need—is discussion. I'd like to sit down and talk with a few others who hold a variety of positions on specific topics.

So I've made it this far, but here is where I'm getting stuck. I don't know if or where these conversations are happening, nor do I know how to go about starting these discussions. And I'm also not sure how much I can participate in such a conversation before I start running into spreading my own political views—something I as a pastor definitely want to avoid. But even if I think about simply facillitating or listening to learn what members of my community think, I'm still not sure how to begin. Here's where I feel I simply don't have enough experience as a pastor. I'd like to model love and concern for others. I'd like to practice respectful listening. I'm not sure where the sweet spot is between being too cautious and being too aggressive, between being too involved and being too detached. I'd like to listen and think deeply and learn. I'd like to respond wisely and lovingly to serious issues and help others do the same. I'm just not sure how to do it. I need some help.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#55 Off to the Races

Today Tess and I took Lanie to her first cross country meet. It was a special experience. Just a hint of fall chill cut through the air, so we bundled Babes up in a jacket and socks to protect her from the wind. As we passed from the parking lot to the course, Lanie squealed with excitement. She smiled and chattered as the boys took off for their 5000m race. Then Lanie and I trekked across the golf course to find another good spot to watch. Lanie looked around in wonder, soaking in as much as she could. As the runners approached the mile mark, raindrops began gently falling. I made sure Lanie's hood stayed up and pulled her in closer, and Tess brought one of our umbrellas over. Sheltered from the rain, we kept moving and cheering for the rest of the race. Lanie never fussed or whined; she just basked in the experience. I'm pretty sure she had fun. I know I did. Maybe Lanie will take after her dad and compete in a few of these meets herself someday. Now that would really be fun.

Grace and peace,
BMH

P.S. Happy birthday to Christopher Reeve, who would have been 65 today. I was born 13 years after Superman, but I clearly remember the first time I saw the movie. Reeve truly made me and many others believe a man could fly.

#54 Return of the Cranky Mathematician

Since I was a math major in college, I'm more sensitive to mathematical errors and numbers being used in ways that don't make sense. Every so often, I use my blog to rant about such things. This is the second installment of this feature.

We need to have a talk about percentages. Every so often I encounter someone who talks about giving 110% effort. When I hear this, I want to flip over some tables and slam my head against a wall. You cannot give 110% effort. That makes absolutely no sense. Your full effort is 100%. That's 100 out of 100. 100% is the limit. You are a finite person; you cannot go beyond that. You can't conjure more effort out of thin air. When you talk about giving 110% effort, I lose respect for you. Plain and simple.

And the same goes for your excitement level. You can't be 110% excited about something. You can't be more excited than you are capable of. That makes no logical sense. Such blatant disregard for mathematics makes me want to weep. It hurts me deep inside.

Now there are instances where percentages greater than 100% may be validly used. For example, if you had $50 last week and now have $55, you now have 110% of the money you used to have. But effort and excitement don't work that way. Think of yourself as a container for effort or excitement. You cannot fill a container more than 100% full.

But as much as misuse of 110% bothers me, it's still not the worst offense I've experienced. Sometimes I hear someone say that they are 1000% sure about some claim. At that point, you've made the poor numbers meaningless. I think people who say such things should be punished. Next time they go to the grocery store, their waiting time for check out should be 1000% of the average person's waiting time. (That's 10 times longer than normal, in case you were wondering.) Maybe that will be enough to discourge such ridiculous statements, statements that make me 100% frustrated.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#53 Excitement Around Every Corner

Almost everyday, Lanie and I eat lunch together. After strapping her into the high chair, I reach into the cupboard and pull out a tub of squash or peas or something like that and show it to Lanie. Once she realizes what's happening, she starts beaming. An enormous smile takes over her face. Pure happiness lights up her eyes. She makes satisfied noises as she gobbles up spoonful after spoonful. Sometimes she gets too excited and flails her arms with joy, inadvertently splattering a glob of food everywhere. I like to eat, but Lanie is on a whole other level. Who knew someone could be so ecstatic about vegetables? And bland, mushy vegetables at that.

But that's Lanie's life. Excitement is always around the corner. She squeals when I make animal noises as I bounce her toys around. She giggles when I drop out of sight and pop back up again. She grins from ear to ear when I make a whispering sound by her ear. She babbles blissfully when she finds some part of me to gnaw on. She does a happy dance when I come home.

One of my biggest flaws is that I think too much. Another is that I struggle with showing emotion. Lanie doesn't have those flaws—at least not yet. And even when I'm exhausted or preoccupied or overwhelmed, her joy is infectious. She just makes me happy. Who knows? Maybe after a continual stream of lunches and lazy Mondays with Lanie, I'll learn to think a little less and smile a little more. After all, there's no shortage of things to be excited about.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#52 The Ministry of Being There

Last week, one of our church members died. She had been fighting cancer since before I arrived, so I visited her and her husband several times over the last 15 months. Throughout the past seven days, I spent a lot of time with her family: in the hospital, at the funeral home, at the funeral and burial and lunch. Mourning the loss of a beloved wife and mother and grandmother is heartbreakingly difficult for the family. Ministering to a grieving family is certainly not the most fun part of my job.

But last week I had a strange thought: in a way, this is why I'm here. Visiting those around me and especially walking with those who are grieving is probably the most valuable thing I can contribute to a church and community. Let's face it: you can find sermons on TV or online, sermons delivered by preachers who are far more experienced and intelligent and eloquent than I am. Well-written and insightful Bible studies and Sunday school curricula are pretty easily available. When you really get down to it, the thing that I can do that a book or computer or TV preacher can't do is show up. I can be present. I don't always know what to say or what to do. I'm not sure I'm very good at dealing with death and funerals. But I can do my best to be with those who are hurting. And—praise God—that's often all God needs to use me.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#51 Daddy's Little Assistant

Tess started teaching last week, which means Lanie and I have extra time together while Mommy's at work. Sometimes I decide to push my work back until after Lanie goes to bed so that we have more time to laugh and play and explore together. Other times she sits next to me as I type and schemes to pull my power cord out when I'm not looking. Occasionally, Lanie comes with me when I make my pastoral visits.

Now visiting is one of my favorite parts of my job. As I wrote about last week, I love to talk with other people and share in their lives in a small way. Visiting is one of the things I'm trained to do. I've invested a lot of effort in improving my ability to listen well, to understand others and help them feel understood, to share Scripture wisely, and to pray with and for others. Almost every time I visit, I come home reflecting on the previous conversation and critiquing myself, searching for ways to be a better pastor. Slowly but surely, I think I'm progressing.

Lanie, on the other hand, doesn't prepare for or reflect on visits. She doesn't worry about whether she's saying too little or too much. She doesn't feel bad if her mind starts to wander in the midst of a conversation. Honestly, I'm not sure how much she even pays attention to the person we're visiting. She seems much more focused on trying to explore all the new and different things in someone else's home. And yet, Lanie always brightens others' days and makes them feel valued. When Lanie and I leave, church members thank me for bringing her to visit. Despite my advantages in training and experience, Lanie seems to be the better visitor. I just can't compete with a baby. So I think I'd better watch out. At this rate, she'll make my whole job obsolete by Christmas.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#50 Sharing and Caring

I've hit 50 posts! So, in grand comics tradition, I'm making this a special extra-sized installment of "The Adventures of Hofman." Thanks for your readership over the past year or so.

After about a year in professional ministry, I've concluded that being a pastor is the best job in the world. A lot of our lives are pretty isolated. We pay for gasoline at the pump (though not in Kanawha!), we check out our own groceries, and often we simply stay home and order things online. We keep ourselves occupied by looking at our individual smartphones. We keep track of friends and family through social media. We long for quiet nights spent at home. Many of us have learned to keep our struggles to ourselves. Rather than risk being perceived as weak or dependent, we try to solve our problems alone. Much of our conversation is little more than small talk, and we tend to ask how others are doing more as a way of being polite than as a way to start deep conversation. (I know that I'm generalizing freely here, but I think, dear readers, that these statements will hit fairly close to your lives, maybe with the exception of your relationships with a few close friends or family members.)

We can have strong tendencies to isolate ourselves—I know I do at times—but it's my job to share in other people's lives. As an introvert, talking to unfamiliar people isn't always easy for me. (Some of my congregation could probably tell you that!) But time and time again I find great joy in my conversations with others. As part of my job I get to talk to people throughout the whole spectrum of life and in a wide variety of jobs. Often I get to talk to others in their homes, and I don't even have to try to ask for money at the end. It's a blessing that's very different than a whole lot of professions. And because I'm a pastor, other people expect to talk to me about personal matters. I can't say I get strangers who come up to me on the street and start opening up about their whole life story, but because I'm a pastor I find many people do feel more comfortable sharing with me more quickly than I might expect.

In my young ministry career, I've had some of the most wonderful conversations. I've talked with teenagers feeling bold enough to stand before the church and make their profession of faith. I've spoken with parents about the grief of losing their adult children. I've listened to nursing home residents describing the challenges of adjusting to life with less freedom. I've chatted with middle schoolers raising interesting questions about faith and life. I've talked with children and grandchildren reminiscing about a beloved grandmother after a funeral. I've spoken softly with neighbors reeling from the sudden passing of a family member. I've chatted with children eagerly describing exciting events from their day at school and with parents proudly describing their kids' most recent milestones. I've sat with dear church members struggling with terminal illness, discussing the threat of death and the hope of eternal, resurrected life.

Sometimes these conversations can be heartbreaking. Many times I'm not sure what to say. But as I listen and try to understand, I find that God fills me with love for the people in front of me. I know that I don't love these people as perfectly or obviously as I should, but more and more I learn to love this congregation and this community. And even in the most difficult situations, again and again I see God at work. It's easy to be isolated. It's hard to enter into someone else's life or open up to another person. But just as Jesus promised, when even two or three gather in His name, He is there. That makes all the difficult loving and listening worthwhile. And this kind of wonderful gathering in Jesus' name is my job. It's the best job in the world.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#49 Do Me a Solid

Lanie started eating solid food on Friday! It's a big deal. She's been devouring some oatmeal each day. When Tess and I get a spoonful close to her mouth, she grabs the near end of the handle to help us and/or leans way forward to get the oatmeal sooner. Apparently Lanie thinks Mommy and Daddy feed her much too slowly. But eating isn't all business. Lanie enjoys blowing bubbles in her oatmeal and loves to wrestle the spoon away so that she can chew on the handle. For now, these antics are pretty adorable. Give us a month or two, and we'll probably be begging Babes to just eat her food. Until then, Lanie decies when it's time for fun and when it's time to gobble up everything. It's Lanie's world, and Tess and I are just living in it. 

However, Lanie may have met her match tonight when we introduced her to sweet potatoes. She eagerly consumed the first bite, but her face soon darkened in confusion as she realized she wasn't chewing on oatmeal. She took another bite or two, but the faces she made grew funnier and funnier. After another couple of spoonfuls, Lanie attempted to refuse the spoon. She'd push it away or only take a little bit and promptly slobber it right out. Then we entered a fun cycle. I'd reach back for more sweet potatoes. Lanie, assuming I was fetching oatmeal would lean forward with visible excitement. As the spoon came closer with a load of orange mush, Lanie would sit back up and turn away, making a face that screamed, "It's not oatmeal! No! Not the orange stuff! Nooooo!" So we gave up for a night. We'll try the sweet potatoes again tomorrow. She'll probably love them by the end of the week.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#48 Traffic

I've done quite a lot of driving over the past week. As much as I enjoy driving, it can be ridiculously frustrating. Yesterday, as I-94W nearly turned into a parking lot in Indiana, I was struck by how glad I am that Jesus is coming back. I think if there's one thing we can learn from road construction it's that we human beings are absolutely hopeless on our own. We can't figure out how to efficiently merge when a lane closes or how to drive a reasonable speed once everybody has merged. I'm not even sure we've really figured how to build and repair roads properly. (Sidebar: Indiana, for all your arrogant billboards in Illinois about how you're a state that works, are you ever going to be finished doing construction on I-94? It's been going on for years, and I'm sick of it. I'm not sure I have the words to express how glad I am that I don't have to drive through Indiana to go home to my parents anymore.) Seriously, if we can't even drive on a highway without devolving into selfishness, rage, pettiness, and a host of other sins—to say nothing of sheer stupidity—what makes us think we have any real chance against things like climate change, poverty, or the threat of nuclear warfare? Spoiler alert: we don't. We can't save ourselves. We need to stop being surprised when we seem to take steps backwards as a society. That's what sinful, broken people do. Thankfully, our God is making everything new and perfect. Thankfully, He also brings goodness here and now and even uses our efforts as part of that. So let's be real, but let's not stop trying or give up hope. Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Have mercy, and save us from ourselves.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#47 The Cranky Mathematician

First, let me apologize for missing a couple weeks of blogging. Two Mondays ago we spent the day visiting a college friend, and the rest of the week filled up quickly on me. Last week I was busy being a counselor for Bible camp and didn't have time to blog. So here we are. Hopefully I'll be regular for a while now.

Being a math major makes me sensitive to some things that most people likely never pay attention to, so this week I'm beginning what will probably become a recurring segment: "The Cranky Mathematician." Let's talk about roads. In Hancock County, where I live, roads are generally a mile apart. East-west roads are numbered, while north-south roads begin with successive letters of the alphabet (e.g. James, Kent, and Ladd are roads near Kanawha.). The east-west roads begin with 100th, followed by 110th, 120th, etc. Homes after 100th are numbered 10xx, homes after 110th are numbered 11xx, and so on. This system, while well organized, drives me absolutely bonkers. First, I think it would make more sense for the roads to be 10th, 11th, 12th, etc. or 1000th, 1100th, 1200th, etc. I can mostly let that go, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why the numbered roads essentially start with 10. The county line should really be 0, but I would be okay with 1st (or 10th under this system). Now you might think that the county wants all the home numbers to have four digits, but, going the other way, homes after A are numbered in the 100s, homes after B in the 200s, and so on. So why do the numbered roads essentially start with 10? I can't explain it. It makes no sense to me. I wouldn't be surprised if no one else in the county has ever both noticed and cared, but I think about this almost every time I run. Such is the curse of being a (sometimes cranky) mathematician.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#46 You Are Not Alone

I'm the biggest Superman fan I know (unless one of my friends is holding out on me). This puts me in a sometimes frustrating position. I have all this interest and knowledge that very few of my acquaintances share or even care much about. Over the years I've had a couple of friends who enjoyed talking comics with me, and Tess—bless her heart—has patiently listened to me talk about way more Superman things than she probably even thought existed. One day in my quest for more Superman knowledge, I stumbled upon the Superman Homepage, which promised "Everything [I] ever wanted to know about the Man of Steel… and more!" Here was a whole world of Superman fans reviewing comics and movies and TV episodes, discussing Superman news, sharing opinions on favorite storylines and writers and artists. I was overjoyed. I wasn't alone. I read page after page. After a couple months I created an account using a picture from one of my favorite Superman comics: 

After a couple more months, I stepped out on a limb and sheepishly commented on an article, even though many other members seem to know WAY more about Superman than I do. And the Superman community, though far from perfect, was gracious. So I've started commenting now and again. Sometimes others disagree with my opinions, but they've been respectful, and I always seem to find somebody else who shares my point of view. It's  a lot of fun to be a part of this online community. It's such a blessing to share interests with others. And maybe, just maybe, this Superman community spares Tess from my ramblings once in a while. That would be the real victory. Until next time, up, up, and away!

Grace and peace,
BMH

#45 Trust Issues

It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in humans.
9 It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes.  

- Psalm 118:8-9

Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.
Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God.
- Psalm 146:3, 5

These verses (and others like them) have been running through my mind frequently over the past couple weeks. The U.S. is deep into health care debate for the second time in a decade, and I'm amazed by how familiar this new round seems. The minority party complains about a secretive writing process, about a wildly unpopular bill that they claim is being rushed through Congress, and about fellow politicians who are more concerned about their party than the American people. The Republicans seem to be doing all the things they complained about eight years ago, and the Democrats seem to be complaining about all the things they did eight years ago. (Now I would guess that members of each party would probably tell me that what they did was technically different from what the others did, but I say that if you need a technical argument to explain why your actions aren't as bad as someone else's, then you're almost certainly doing things you really shouldn't be doing. Good morals do not involve trying to get away with absolutely everything you can.)

As I watch the debates around the U.S. Senate's proposal unfold, I can't help but feel like many of us have been suckered. We've been led to believe that our leaders are going to get things right and take care of all of us. We've been told (whether directly or indirectly) that the politicians and party we support can give us what we need when it comes to health care and national security and civil liberties. But they can't. They won't. To me, the last ten years of health care debate show that there really isn't that big of a difference between the two parties. We're getting the same questionable processes; only the roles have reversed. At this point I believe I can confidently say that, whether or not the Republicans pass new health care legislation, the system is not going to be "fixed." Some people that aren't benefiting under the current system will benefit under the new system. Some people that do benefit under the current system won't benefit under the new one.

I don't have the answers when it comes to health care. Nor should you expect me to have the answers. I'm a pastor, not a doctor or an insurance provider or a legal expert. But to my fellow Americans (and really to people everywhere) I say, stop it! We need to stop trusting politicians to save us or protect us or watch out for us. Don't get me wrong: politics are important. Health care is important. We should pay attention and participate in the process where we can. But let's not be surprised when our fellow human beings let us down. That's what people do. Other people let us down and we let other people down. Let's not depend on our leaders to set our lives and our country straight. To my brothers and sisters in Christ, shame on us for trusting in politicians. We should know better than that. Only our Triune God is worthy of our trust. To those who don't believe in Christ, I urge you to put your trust in Jesus. I can't guarantee your health care will be great or your life will be easy. But Jesus is totally trustworthy. He offers peace and joy in the midst of turmoil and everlasting, resurrected life after death. And unlike human beings, He knows what we really need.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#44 Babes on the Run

Late on Saturday afternoon I looked outside and decided that it was time for Lanie to go for a run. The weather was nice: overcast and not too hot. Lunch had been digesting long enough in my stomach that I didn't think it would be a problem. It was time to see what this so-called jogging stroller was made of. I double-knotted my Nikes and locked Lanie's car seat into the stroller. Then we were off, gliding past block after block. Adapting my running form proved a challenge: eventually I settled on pushing with one arm while swinging the other arm like normal. Additionally, whether from the unevenness of the road or my one-armed pushing, the stroller kept trying to drift to one side or the other. Beyond these new challenges, I'm not in good shape, so I worked through four miles. (Side note: I have this recurring fear that my college self is going to time travel to my current time and kick me in the back of the head for being so terrible at running regularly. Always beware your time-travelling self.) Lanie, however, didn't seem to notice my efforts. Freed from the blinding glare of the sun, she took full advantage of not being shaded and stared at the passing homes, cars, and fields. I tried talking to her a few times. She ignored me, as I'm sure she'll do more and more regularly as she ages. Finally, after four miles of stoic silence, Lanie started to babble and smile as I walked around to cool down. She liked the run! I guess I better get used to pushing a stroller around.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#43 Spittin' Image

Lately I've been having a strange recurring experience. Once in a while I'll look over at Lanie and get the feeling that I'm looking at one of my baby pictures come to life. I don't see it all the time, but sometimes—I don't know if it's the face she's making or the lighting or what—she looks a lot like me. Here's a side-by-side comparison for you folks at home:

(This is the only one of my baby pictures I have on hand. It's probably not perfect for this, but I think it does the trick.)

Now again, this isn't an all the time experience. However, I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to it. It's bizarre to catch even a glimpse of my face in someone else's face, especially in a girl's face. Parenthood is weird, and it's also really cool. But for Lanie's sake, I hope she doesn't continue to look too much like me as she gets older.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#42 She's a Wonder

My blog is named in honor of both a Superman comic series and TV show, so I think it's only fair if I talk about something comic-related once in a while. Last weekend I went to see Wonder Woman. The movie absolutely captivated me. I thought the main characters were great and the plot was strong. The action sequences were jaw-droppingly cool, and the music was top-notch. (I judge movie scores based on whether or not there's a moment in the film where I consciously think that the music is great in a particular scene. I had a couple of those with Wonder Woman.) At the end of the day, I generally want a movie to hold my attention and make me feel good/excited/triumphant. Wonder Woman definitely did those things.

After seeing the movie, I thought about my daughter, Lanie, and I got really excited that she's growing up in a world where a movie like Wonder Woman exists. One of the seminary lectures I remember the best is a pastoral care class where a guest speaker told us she never really felt like the Bible's words were for her until she reread a passage with feminine words instead of masculine words. (e.g. Psalm 1:1-3 [NIV 1984]: Blessed is the woman who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But her delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law she meditates day and night. She is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields in fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever she does prospers.) As a man, I admit I had never thought of that before. Of course the Bible's words are for both women and men. But sometimes we need a change of perspective to help us see that. Now comic books are much less important than God's Word. But comic books and comic book movies can be pretty terrible to women. Women can easily be portrayed simply as damsels in distress, rather helpless people who need some strong man to come and rescue them. But Wonder Woman portrays a woman who is a hero and an inspiration, a woman who is compassionate, courageous, and self-confident. Of course both women and men can be strong and heroic. But I think a movie like Wonder Woman helps us understand that better. I'm sure it's not a perfect example, but I hope it helps Lanie and me and girls and boys and women and men better see the value and power and importance of women. That would be, well, wonderful.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#41 The Preacher as Chef

I spend quite a bit of time thinking about preaching, and I've come to the conclusion that preaching is like cooking. We say that people do not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God, and we talk about being fed by sermons, so I think it's a valid image. Every week I take a few hours over a couple of days to do some research. This is like searching through the cupboards to figure out what's in the house. Once I've gathered all my ingredients, all the knowledge I can gain from a variety of sources, it's decision time: What can I make with this, and what do I want to make? This requires a touch of wisdom. If I throw everything into the pot, the resulting sermon will be overwhelming and not very appealing. But if I don't use enough ingredients, my sermon will be watered down and bland. I need just the right balance. Also, as any good chef knows, people generally aren't going to be satisfied eating the same thing every day. So I need to mix things up, finding fresh sources, spicing things up with new stories, and trying different styles from time to time. Sometimes I create something memorable. But sometimes things don't turn out as well I'd hoped. Then it's good to remember the words of my mentor: he doesn't remember every meal he's ever eaten, but he does know he was fed. I pray that God empowers me to cook up nourishing and delightful sermons and that He uses them to strengthen His people for their weeks of work.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#40 Lanie the Lion

For the past week or so, Lanie's been showing signs of teething. She's fussier than normal and seems to be having a little extra trouble sleeping. She drools constantly and wants to put everything in her mouth, including making attempts to eat large things like water bottles and her stuffed lion. Lanie gnaws on her fingers, her clothes, her spit rags, and all of her toys. But those things aren't enough. Lanie also wants to eat other people's fingers. This afternoon she was propped up against my legs, holding my index fingers in her hands. Slowly but surely, Lanie pulled our hands toward her face. Then, like a lion, she pounced into action, flinging her mouth towards my right finger. Startled, I yanked my finger back. But Lanie is a tenacious baby girl. She tried this same plan of attack three or four more times before I couldn't contain myself any longer. I started laughing so hard that Lanie gave up and went back to charming me with her adorable smile. She's quite the little mastermind. I don't know how I entertained myself before she was born.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#39 Family

Last week I didn't blog because Tess and I went to a Monday evening showing of The Fate of the Furious, and Monday evenings are when I normally blog. I've been thinking a fair amount about the movie over the past week. The central characters in this series stress the idea of family over and over again. Over the course of a whole slew of adventures, this diverse group has become a family. Only a couple of them are biologically related, and the family changes over time, often expanding to include former enemies. But no matter the challenges, family loyalty binds the group together.

Now I'm not going to sit here and defend the morality of the Fast and Furious franchise. I'm not going to tell all of you dear readers that you must see and enjoy these films. But I think we can learn something from this concept of family. I think that the church should look something like the Fast and Furious gang. The church is a diverse group of people—made of up representatives from every nation, tribe, people, and language, according to Revelation—united in and by Jesus Christ. The Bible often refers to us as brothers and sisters and challenges us to love and care for each other. And like Dominic Toretto and company, we should be willing to accept former enemies as beloved family members. Our church family will change over time, but our bonds of love should always hold us together.

I think we should keep this family image front and center in our discussions of the church. So often we Christians emphasize nuclear families: parents and children. Certainly we have responsibilities to our parents and siblings and children, but if we hold up individual families as an ideal, we run the risk of ostracizing and hurting those of us who are single or divorced, those of us who have lost family members or are estranged from our families, and any others of us whose family life doesn't match our perfect model (which, honestly, is probably all of us). But the church is a new family, the family of God. The church is a family that accepts any and all who believe in Jesus Christ. And I think a lot of people in the world today are looking for a family, for a place to belong. How many times have you heard young people come back from a mission trip or Christian retreat or Bible camp and gush about how they felt like part of a family?

In Luke 21, Jesus says that there will be no marriage after the resurrection. That passage has always confused me, but it started to make more sense to me as I prepared for a Bible study last week. Shortly after that statement, Jesus talks about how we will all be part of God's family. I think that's the point. When the kingdom fully comes, our individual families and marriages won't matter because we'll all belong to God's family. We should celebrate God's family and share its blessings with all who will come. After all, this family lasts forever.

Grace and peace,
BMH