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Well, it was our last day here at Crested Butte. We are both sore, tired, and full from all the amazing food we have been eating! Last night, Rick and I actually got some concrete ideas down for our comic book. I know. Amazing! So this morning, it was back to the business of Xbox 360. We completed our domination of Mexican guerrillas in Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfare 2, and began to climb the Rally Car racing circuit in DiRT. We also thought, being our last day and all, we should go biking. So after cooking up our last frozen pizza, we decided to head up and ride Snodgrass before connecting with the Upper and Upper Upper Loops.

Snodgrass is a very fun, though short, singletrack. In order to get there we had to climb out of Crested Butte and up to the trail head. The climb is steep, and at this altitude very painful. once at the trail head there is another short climb that leads into some of the fastest downhill in Crested Butte. It’s fast because there isn’t much in the way of rocks or tree roots to slow you down. Unfortunately, when we finally reached the top disaster set in. Rick’s rear tire blew! And, being wise as we are, we had two tire pumps, but no tubes. I know. Genius. Fortunately Rick has a way of always seeing the bright side of things, commenting that at least he was able to experience the joyous and leg cramp inducing climb to the top. Rick walked his bike back down the hill while I continued on, finishing up at the condo where I got the car and went and picked Rick up.

Originally we had planned to ride Snodgrass into the Upper and Upper Upper Loops, but Rick didn’t feel like fixing his tube, and my legs were beat. Instead, we showered up and headed into town where we spent some time at the skate park before dinner. Being our last night we decided to eat at a sure thing and headed to the Wooden Nickle. There, I had some amazing prime rib, while Rick polished off a ribeye. We both left satisfied.

Now, we are spending our last night brainstorming names for our Comic book and its hero, and playing DiRT. We plan on leaving tomorrow by 8:00 a.m., arriving back home again by 7:35 p.m. It has been an incredible week of vicious singletrack, daring flights over the tops of handle bars, flat tires, skate parks, comic book procrastination, and game playing. My only regret is that Rick didn’t get a picture of me hurling. Oh well, there’s always next year.

Today we decided to take some time off and get down to the business of why we really came to Crested Butte–to work on our comic book! In between fending of Mexican guerrillas in Ghost Recon: Advance Warfare 2 and eating Twinkies we went to work. We thought we should have a name for our hero, flesh out his abilities, come up with some sort of back story for him, and decide what he looks like. So far, he still has no name, no abilities, no back story, and no looks. The Mexicans have been dealt with, however. At one point, we did consider going biking, but instead choose to head to town and hit the skate park.

The skate park in Crested Butte is pretty amazing. It’s all concrete with huge bowls, a nice hipper, some good edges to grind and slide, and a few banks to ride around. I took pictures as I haven’t been on a skateboard in years and I had no desire to hurt myself. Sure, I have no problem heading straight down the side of a mountain on my bike, but those bowls are huge! Rick did pretty well, showing up most of the locals with his flat land street style trickeriffic ways. But when it came to those bowls, Rick had nothing. The local dudes flew around those things like butter. Even the 9 year old who was there grabbed them by the nap of the neck and shook them around.

It didn’t take long before the old Danny Way inside me started to roar and I had to grab Rick’s board and go for it. At first, I was pretty tentative, worried that I might burst my spleen wide open, but eventually it all came back and I hit the huge vert bowl, throwing down a rodeo heal flip. For those of you who don’t know what that means, join the club. I don’t know either, but I bet it would be cool. Anyway, I didn’t hurt myself, and I did manage to pull out a shove it, as well as a fakie 180. I also rolled back and forth the tiny bowl for awhile.

After that, we headed to the Wooden Oven and had some great pizza. The only thing better than the pizza were the 5 or 6 kids that kept running around our table screaming and jumping around like a pack of wild hyenas. I’m dedicating this post to good parenting skills, as well as to the dude who keeps parking his truck in front of our garage–oh, and the dude who lets his dog (which bites) roam free in front of the condo. Here’s to you!

Tomorrow, we hit Snodgrass which will take us down to Upper and Upper Upper again. Can’t wait! Now, back to the comic book.

Today was to be a “lazy” day, and after the challenging Teocalli Trail yesterday we were really looking forward to it. The morning was dark and gloomy with a few moments of rain, and Rick and I decided to just hang out at the condo. We did some very productive things, like completing several races in Forza Motorsport 2, talking about how cool it would be if we ever finished writing the comic book we keep putting off, and rehashing the previous days activities. In all honesty it didn’t take long before we were bored out of our minds. So, after lunch, we decided to go ride the Upper and Upper Upper Loops again.

We had an amazing time! Once again the Upper and Upper Upper Loops proved why they are our favorite rides in Crested Butte. Rick and I both rode harder than we had before, staying on our bikes during sections we have never been able to climb before, and completely letting go, flying down steep drop offs and rooted stair steps that had previously caused us both to pause and wonder. Rick especially was incredible. During one painful climb, I finally had to get off and push, while Rick went on ahead. A woman coming from the opposite direction stopped and watched Rick go, then commented to me that she thought he was “amazing”. To bad she looked to be about 50, married, and not interested in anything but Rick’s pedaling skills.

We didn’t complete the entire loop today, deciding instead to take the Whetstone trail back down. The Whetstone trail connects with the Upper Upper Loop pretty much right in the middle. It’s only a mile long, but it is very rocky, technical, and fun. It’s by far a more interesting and exciting ride than the second half of the Upper Upper Loop. We ended our ride by heading into town and stopping at the grocery store where we bought hot wings and ranch dressing. Those wings sure were tasty!

Tomorrow we have talked about taking the day off, but I’m sure we will end up on the Upper Loop again, or maybe Snodgrass. I would like to go ride 401 sometime this week, but we may run out of time, energy, and will power. Oh well, I guess we will see.

“Teocalli Ridge is another classic ride in the Brush Creek area.” “This trail is a visitor must do.” “One of the best rides in the Crested Butte area.” “The Teocalli Trail is another of the famous Crested Butte trails.”

Every year Rick and I try to find another trail to add to our list of must rides. This year, we choose Teocalli Ridge. As you can imagine, with web page reviews like the ones above Rick and I were stoked to go try our luck on Teocalli. Well, with this blog there is now another web page review of this trail. Here it is: Riding the Teocalli Ridge Trail is as fun as having a root canal while a 6 foot gorilla punches you in the face. Perhaps it’s because rick and I are lowlanders, or that I seem to weigh a bit more than most of the dudes on the trails, but the climb on this trail is ridiculous. Now, in all fairness we knew going into it that this was supposed to be a tough climb. What we didn’t know was that the climb was impossibly difficult as almost the entire trail has been rutted out by motocross riders. We came across a bunch of them while riding and stood there watching as they tore it up. Sad.

That being said, this trail has some really fun parts, like hiking our bikes across Brush Creek, the amazing and dangerously technical downhill, and the beautiful scenery. Rick and I rode hard on the downhill, and I was proud that I only had to get off a few times while going down. Two of those times I was forced off by gravity and the breaking mechanics of bicycles. The first time I flew over my handlebars like Superman diving down to save Lois Lane from going over Niagra Falls, and the second time I toppled off the edge of the trail when my wheel and left pedal clipped the rutted out sidewall of the trail. Thanks motocross dudes! Luckily, I was uninjured. Let me take this moment to say to everyone out there, when riding down a step hill with lots of rocks, and foot high walls on both sides that are just wide enough for your pedals to fit, wear your helmet. I’m thankful for the Aspen tree that broke my fall, and for my helmet that kept my head safe as it slammed into said tree.

All in all, it was a good day, especially since Rick, who was impressed with my slammage, bought me a gigantic Prime Rib dinner at The Wooden Nickel.

Well, we arrived on Wednesday, August 6th. The trip down was long, but well worth it. It’s always amazing to come up here every summer and feel the cool air, smell the wildflowers, and hurl on the epic mountain biking trails–which I did. As is our custom, we stopped at Chipotle for lunch on the way here. Actually, it was a place called “Illegal Pete’s”, which was just like Chipotle. We thought it might be called “Illegal Pete’s” because Pete may have stolen the idea from Chipotle and started his own restaurant. Anyway, while it was certainly good, Rick and I both ended up sick. Now, we aren’t blaming Pete and his illegal activities, but it sure is suspicious.

So yesterday, I still wasn’t feeling very well, but we went mountain biking anyway. I mean, we are in Crested Butte for Pete’s illegal sake! Well, we decided to ride our favorite trail, the Upper Loop, and the Upper Upper Loop. We climbed hard to the trail head, then forged on through the single track, aspens, and wildflowers, and my stomach was churning as fast as my legs were pedaling. When we came to the end of the Upper Loop, we debated whether or not we should go down, or connect up with the Upper Upper Loop. Rick said, “It’s up to you, dude.” Of course as we all know, what that really means is, “It’s up to you. I mean, if you want to be a pansie about it we can go back down. But I’m fine continuing on. But, you know, it’s up to you, dude.” So, of course we went on the Upper Upper Loop.

About a mile into it, after climbing a rather difficult section, I stopped, climbed up on a big rock, and began to ponder whether I was really going to lose that breakfast bar I had eaten. The answer came soon enough in four back-to-back explosions. It was quit impressive to be honest. My only disappointment is that Rick, who I gave plenty of warning to, did not get a picture. He did however say it was perhaps the most disgusting thing he had ever heard. I was happy with that.

After that, I felt much better and we continued on the trail, completing the full loop. The rest of the day, which included taking a warm shower, eating at The Last Steep, and getting caught outside in a huge downpour, was great! Here is a picture re-creating the hurling incident. Enjoy!

…and how do you be one?

We’ve been doing a study at my church using Rob Bell’s Nooma video series. It has been a very good study and the people involved have really enjoyed it. One woman in particular has found it to be insightful and motivating. She commented to me the other night that it’s refreshing to see so many young “evangelicals” doing the work of Christ. She has identified me as one of these supposed “evangelicals” before, and now was making the distinction about Rob Bell as well.

It’s got me wondering, how did I become an Evangelical, exactly? And what about Rob Bell, the man who once wrote in Velvet Elvis–a really great book, by the way–that the virgin birth narrative isn’t really all that important to our faith, and that it doesn’t matter if it really happened or not. I tend to agree.

I think the problem is, the word “evangelical” has come to mean a whole host of things that it is not. It doesn’t mean conservative. It doesn’t mean Bible thumping. It doesn’t mean charismatic or non-denominational–or Baptist for that matter. Rather, an evangelical is someone who loves Christ dearly, who admits that they have been saved by Christ, and who believes that the scriptures are the foundation for their belief in Christ.

In this sense, I can see why some people would say I’m an evangelical. I can also see why they would say the same thing about Bell. But, as Max Lucado and Jim Wallis have stressed, my deep commitment to Christ and the Gospel leads me to a place where I can not turn a blind eye to the needs of the least, the lost, and the marginalized in our society. It is my love for Christ, and my love of the Gospel, that forces me to see the world’s needs, and work to meet those needs. My personal salvation was taken care of the day Christ came into my life, and to continue focusing only on my self in this context seems wasteful and selfish. Yes, I desire every day to grow closer to Christ, but I desire more for others to know Christ through the actions of my hands and not simply the words that I speak.

The world is filled with need, and we have been called by our creator to go forth and feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and imprisoned, give drink to the thirsty, and on, and on. This is the call of the Christian; this is the call of the Evangelical.

Matthew 21:1-11

Well, it’s that time again. Time for churches filled with running children waving palm branches and shouting Hosanna! It’s always a wonderful celebration in the church, the day that we celebrate Christ’s entry into Jerusalem.

When I was a kid, this was always one of my favorite Sundays. At the church I grew up in all the kids would line up in the back and we would come marching in together shouting Hosanna and waving our branches. The people in the pews would wave their branches as well and around and around we’d go, and every year behind us would come a live donkey.

Yes, we had a live donkey strutting down the isle!

The isle was covered in plastic, of course, and inevitably that donkey would make good use of the plastic much to our childish delight and our parents horror. I can even remember the Donkey’s name–Jenny. I remember that because one of my friends from church was named Jenny and we always made a point of letting her know she shared her name with the donkey.

Well, when it was all done we’d be standing up front, still waving our branches, checking to see if mom and dad were watching while the donkey stood next to us. And then we’d start to sing:
Little grey donkey
Little grey donkey
Little grey donkey ho.

Those are good memories, but I have to say that I think the joy I find in Palm Sunday as an adult is even greater. It’s fun to watch the children do their bit, especially when it’s my daughter standing up front, dancing for the congregation as the children sing. But beyond that, the story of Jesus entry into Jerusalem is really an amazing story.

I like to think of Jesus entry into Jerusalem this way: Jesus knew what was coming; he knew that there were people in the crowd that sought to end his life; he knew how it would all play out, and yet he went. He went because God needed him to fulfill God’s plan. This story is really a story of Christ’s tremendous love for us, a love that was willing to ride right into the heart of Jerusalem, a place Jesus had once called a hornets nest.

It’s also a story of the faithful community that surrounds Jesus. Consider the person who so willingly gave up their donkey and colt simply because “the Lord needs it”. Or think of the crowd of people who came out to cheer Jesus on despite knowing that the leaders of their community stood against Jesus. Then there’s the person who will give up space in their home so that Jesus might have a place to share in the last supper with his disciples. There’s also the man who will have to take time out of his life to help Jesus carry the cross up to Golgotha. Even Joseph of Arimathea shows his faith by giving up his own tomb so that Jesus’ body may be laid to rest.

Why did all these people do these things? Because, as the lesson says today, Jesus needed it.

Jesus still needs it. He needs people wiling to make sacrifice and lay down their lives for him. He needs people to make space in their homes and in their lives so that his message might be spread. He needs people to be his arms and his legs, his voice and his hands, so that he might still speak into our world and do the work that God has given. This is our calling as Christians. The Lord needs it. What can we do?

Well, my site went down this week, as did several other bluehost sites, but now it’s back up. I’m sorry I didn’t get my lectionary thoughts up in time for this Sunday. Oh well, that’s life, eh?

John 9:1-41

Our text this week is the amazing story of a blind man who receives sight after he meets Jesus. What makes this text interesting are the contrasting ideas of “sight” and “blindness”. These refer not only to physical traits, but spiritual ones as well.

The scene opens with Jesus and his disciples encountering a blind beggar. The disciples ask an interesting question. “Who sinned that this man is blind? Him, or his parents?” Jesus responds, “No one sinned.” The disciples believed, as did the religious leaders of the day, that sin caused physical ailments and other problems. So, when they ask, “Who sinned?” they want to know if he was blind from birth (his parents sinned) or if he became blind in life (his own sin).

We might think the disciples question is strange because we recognize that sin doesn’t lead to punishment in this way. Still, Christians today, whether they realize it or not, often ask a very similar question. I’ve heard it repeatedly from Christians unwilling to give more of their time, talents, and resources. It’s the question we ask when we drive by the homeless beggar, or the tired widow. It’s the question, “I wonder what they did to be where they are at?”

We are taught in our American culture that if you work hard, follow the rules, and be good, you will be successful. And so when we see the homeless person on the street, or encounter the poor who can’t afford health insurance or groceries that week, rather than bending down, getting dirty–spiting in the mud, if you will–and working for a better solution, we turn our backs on their need, and say, “They must be lazy. It’s their fault. They wouldn’t be in this situation if they worked as hard as me. They just need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” In this way, we place blame on the person in need rather than recognizing the opportunity we have to serve.

This attitude has infected our churches. Christians today seem more concerned about rules and morals, then about tending God’s flock, and feeding God’s sheep. The religious leaders of Jesus day were the same. In our text today, the blind man goes to the Pharisees and they can’t believe he has been healed. A man of God could only perform such an act of healing, and they know Jesus isn’t a man of God. How do they know this? Because he heals on the Sabbath, and everyone knows that the law says you shouldn’t work on the Sabbath. And so they go round and round. Is Jesus a man of God? He must be. But why does he break the law than? They are so entrenched in their beliefs about God, and the law, and their moral duty to the law, that rather than concede that Jesus is a man of God, they decide the man who was blind must not have been blind to begin with. It’s all a hoax. An elaborate setup.

But the once-blind-man’s parents attest that he has always been blind. And so they call the man forth again and tell him that what has happened is impossible, for Jesus is a sinner. Jesus has broken the law. And the man says, “That may be. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I was once blind, and now I see. And isn’t that the point?” The Pharisees continue to press the matter, until finally the man says, “You say you don’t know where Jesus comes from, and at the same time you say a sinner could not have opened my eyes. Surely than, Jesus is from God.” And the Pharisees, aware of the implications of such a thing, become angry and force the man away.

The Pharisees miss the point entirely. They were so focused on the law, and on the physical healing of the blind beggar, that they didn’t realize who was standing right in their midst. They didn’t realize that Jesus was not only a man from God, but that Jesus was the Messiah. The Pharisees claimed to be able to see. They claimed that they lived sinless lives. But in the end, Jesus assures us that those who claim such things, those who believe they have all the answers and know all the right laws and customs to follow, those who claim they know the one true way to God, are blind to the true work of God in our midst. While those who were blind, who have had their hearts changed and their eyes opened by the love and grace of Jesus Christ, see God more fully in their life.

The question isn’t, what sin have they committed, or what did they do wrong that they are poor, homeless, hungry, imprisoned, or even blind. The question is, as someone who was once blind, and who now sees, what can I do to help others come to know Christ, and what can I do to help bring about God’s kingdom?

John 4:5-42

Our church has been doing what I call a “Life Study” based on Rob Bell’s Nooma video series. Last night we watched the fourth DVD entitled Sunday. In it, Bell talks about what it means to be an authentic Christian. He focuses on how churches today do a very good job of heaping on the guilt, while failing to truly connect people’s hearts with God’s. The conclusion is that many Christians today, while they are good at going through the motions–going to church, singing the right hymns, saying the right prayers–are not living transformed lives that participate with God in the work at hand.

Being a pastor, I am witness every Sunday to this kind of meaningless running of the Christian gauntlet. Further, being an honest pastor, I admit that I too sometimes fall victim to meaningless motions and false motivations. Because of this, I have been on a quest to discover what it means to have an authentic faith.

I believe the Gospel lesson for this week gives us myriad answers to this question. These answers begin with Jesus decision to travel to Sychar, a Samaritan city. The Samaritans, though claiming to be descendants of the Northern Israelite Tribes, were frowned upon by the Jewish religious leaders of Jesus day. They practiced what the Jewish leaders at that time believed to be a false understanding of Judaism, which included their own version of the Pentateuch–the first five books of the Bible. Samaritans and Jews simply did not socialize. In fact, any Jew traveling the road Jesus was on would have typically gone out of their way to avoid going through Sychar. You can begin to see the implications. Jesus, a Jew himself, and a religious authority, puts all this aside, and heads into the heart of this conflict.

As if that wasn’t enough, Jesus goes to the well, and finding a Samaritan women drawing water there begins to speak with her. The well was a common meeting place, and it wouldn’t be unusual to find several women gathered there in the morning and the evening to draw water and converse. What would be unusual would be to find a woman there alone at mid-day. It appears that this woman, for whatever reason, is an outcast. (Perhaps it’s because she’s been married five times, and currently has a live in boyfriend–a fact she will divulge soon enough.) Maybe more unusual still would be to find a man speaking to this woman. And yet, this is the scene we find Jesus in today–standing in a Samaritan town, talking to an outcast Samaritan woman.

I wonder what many of us would say to this woman if we were to encounter her–this woman who’s been married five times, and currently lives with a man who isn’t her husband? Maybe we wouldn’t say anything. Maybe we would gossip about her at our local coffee group. Maybe we would confront her and tell her of her sin, and lay the guilt on. But I doubt many of us, and unfortunately I would have to include myself here, would do what Jesus does.

Not only does Jesus speak to her, but he offers her hope, joy, and life. To the woman who has come to draw water, he offers living water. He offers her salvation–the freedom of knowing he is the Christ. Imagine this same scene on a street corner in Forth Worth, Texas where I attended a meeting recently. On the corner was a man with a megaphone informing all passers by that they were surely going to burn in hell if they didn’t repent and accept Christ. First of all, I wonder when God gave humanity the wisdom to make such an assertion, and second I wonder how we have strayed so far from Jesus actions that we think appropriate ministry means laying on guilt, and scarring people into faith. (No, I didn’t spell that wrong. When we “scare” people into faith, we are really only “scarring” them by creating Christians whose faith is as shallow as the person who builds their house on the sand.)

Jesus knew everything about this Samaritan woman. He knew she was living with a man she was not married too. He new all of her problems; all of her sin. He could have easily laid on the guilt and the shame, and showed her where the path she was on led. Yet, he didn’t. Instead, rather than Judge her, he offers her new life.

And then comes the best part. The Samaritan woman leaves Jesus and runs back into town. She is filled with such joy that she shares her encounter with Christ. Her heart has been transformed, and she desires to help others have a transformed heart as well. She’s so excited to share this with others, that she even leaves her water jar behind. But of course, she doesn’t need it anymore. And the passage concludes that many Samaritans believed in Jesus because of the woman’s testimony. And many more believed because of Jesus own words.

What does it mean to have an authentic faith? It means going to the places others dare not go. It means entering the domain of the marginalized–the sick, the hungry, the needy, the poor, the prisoner. It means entering into those places without judgment, seeking to draw people closer to God’s heart rather than force them into a faith of fear. It means sharing the Good News of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection with those around you. It means working with God to transform and redeem our world. And finally, it means striving everyday to draw closer to God by seeking God’s wisdom and desire for our life through scripture, song, dance, meditation, prayer, sacraments, and community–in other words, authentic worship.

Everyday, Jesus offers living water to us, and to the world around us. Let us gather at the well, and drink deeply.