Lucie turned one yesterday! We've done much celebrating, and she has enjoyed being the center of attention. It's been a crazy busy and full year with many ups and downs, and it certainly has been my favorite year ever. We've been so blessed with this wonderful baby (now more like a little kid)! Please enjoy this video chronicling a Year in the Life of Lucinda!
Lucinda is One from Matt Kennedy on Vimeo.
What a celebration! Church this morning was so beautiful. The bells, the choir, the brass, the tulips, the lilies, the tapestries, the butterflies--all to praise our risen Lord. I've always wanted to take some pictures in the sanctuary at North Park Covenant, and I though this would be a good opportunity.
The kids had a quick Easter Egg Hunt on the platform!
The choir sang the Hallelujah Chorus and invited the congregation to come to the front and join in
Multicolored butterflies were a new addition this year
Jesus lives, and so shall I. Death! thy sting is gone forever!
In case you hadn't heard, our economy is bad. I'm not an economist, I'm a pastor. I'm not very good at math, but I do have (some) common sense. As a pastor I should (ideally) have some insight into our spiritual condition. With that in mind, I thought I'd throw out a few humble observations I'm making about our economy these days.
First off: how bad is it? This morning we learned that the "official" unemployment rate is now 7.6%. I use scare quotes here because I understand that unemployment is actually worse than that. If you look at the Bureau of Labor statistics there are more than 7.6% who are looking for a job; you have the folks who've been so unsuccessful at finding a job we just stopped counting them (called "discouraged workers") and you have the folks who work part-time but still don't have sufficient income to live on (called "marginally attached workers"). Those numbers put unemployment much closer to 14%-- almost double the "official" numbers you probably saw on the news today. I know this is the case, because I'm one of the other 6.3%. I have a little part time work and some odd jobs to help out, but on our income we can contribute near zero to our savings and I've even been forced to defer my student loan payments for the time being. Times are tough.
Why? The housing crisis was a big reason. The value of our houses was artificially inflated, and we borrowed against it to buy stuff. We were told that real estate is a great investment, that the value of your house will nearly always climb. Here's where my common sense kicked in-- is it really possible for home prices to always keep going up? What happens when all the people who can afford a house have one? What happens when all those new condos and developements get finished and there are more of them than people with the income for mortgage payments (see above)? Our resources are not limitless. It was a lie we chose to believe. Now we're paying the price... not in a deflated home value. But in jobs.
Here's where else my common sense took me: where do we work anymore? What does our post-industrial economy produce? A small fraction of us make food, most of it is imported. Most of our goods are imported too, produced in squalid conditions for low wages. Most of us who work don't actually create or produce things-- we just kind of shuffle them around and skim a little off the top for our selves. Isn't that what the stock market is? Isn't that what retail and consumerism does? The job sectors that are hurting the most are manufacturing. Again, we've believed a lie that our goods and materials are limitless. You can't get something from nothing, and not everyone can become rich at the expense of a smaller labor force working for less.
These are the reasons I feel some complusion to speak about the economy. This is a spiritual problem. Work is good. Its good for people to have work not simply because of the income (though that's important), but because human beings are designed to have vocation. Without meaningful work to do, we suffer existential angst. That's why I'm much more concerned about unemployment than I am about the stock market. In fact, I'd argue that an obsesion with "growth" in our stock market has adversley affected the employment situation in our country. Take a look at these companies who have never laid off a single worker. Something most of them have in common is that they are privately held--that means when times are good, profits aren't shipped off to investors, but can be reinvested into the workers (cash assets can be set aside in order to make payroll during lean times). The Hebrew Prophets in particular have much to say about how the wealthy should treat their workers. Its time for managers, owners, and wall street to see its labor force not as a liability--but as an integral asset.
But this is not simply a rant against a select few of the wealthiest among us. We all bear personal responsibility for the condition our economy is in. No one has clean hands in this mess. All of us have a responsibility to steward our resources wisely. The debt we've incurred due to our consumeristic lifestyle has hollowed out our economy. Consider this, would we have had the foreclosure crisis if we took a lesson from the Amish? It turns out that the mortgage banker who serves the Amish of Lancaster County, PA has never lost money on a loan to them:
"The Amish live well within their means — no splurging on iPods or HDTVs, no dinners out that they really can't afford... This old-fashioned system works. In this year of financial crisis, of storied old banks collapsing in hours, Hometowne Heritage [the local community bank] has had its best year ever."The Amish know a thing or two about following the radical gospel of Christ. I'd be surprised if they're wrong on this one.
Its one of the most contentious issues in our society, but important things deserve attention even when they are uncomfortable to talk about. Today is the 36th anniversary of the supreme court decision that legalized abortion on demand here in the United States. Nicole and I are proud members of Feminists for Life because we reject violence and exploitation--especially of the most vulnerable members of society. One of the chief tenants of Christian action is solidarity with those who are defenseless. We believe that Jesus Christ came to our defense when we were defenseless to the powers of evil and death, and thus believers are come to the defense of those who are marginalized in our society: the disabled, the sick, the elderly, the minority, the poor, and the unborn. Abortion is a justice issue. I'm not attempting to incite debate in this context. I recognize the nuance of ethics in medicine and how morality is legislated in a pluralistic society. At the very least, we all have participated in a system that has exploited vulnerable people. For that we should repent. But we also should look to the future. I'm grateful for the progress that has been made to open our eyes to this travesty. Consider the testimony of this pro-choice writer Caitlin Flanigan who saw her first child in an ultrasound for the first time and wrote this:
An ultrasound image taken surprisingly early in pregnancy can stop me in my tracks. In it is much more than I want to know about the tiny creature whose destruction we have legalized: a beating heart, a human face, functioning kidneys, two waving hands that seem not too far away from being able to grasp and shake a rattle... The demands pro-life advocates make of pregnant women are modest: All they want is a little bit of time. All they are asking, in a societal climate in which out-of-wedlock pregnancy is without stigma, is that pregnant women give the tiny bodies growing inside of them a few months, until the little creatures are large enough to be on their way, to loving homes.
So we spent some 20+ days traveling around Christmas and New Years. Usually, at the end of a trip we get a feeling of dread at the thought of returning home to work and routine. This time was different. Perhaps because we were both sick, we felt a great sense of relief to arrive at our home after the holidays. Still, it was surprising. We moved into a new apartment at the beginning of December. Well, it was new to us. Its actually quite an old building. The wallpaper is peeling in the stairway. There are layers of cheap paint splattered on every surface. It has ugly carpet. Carpentry so shoddy there probably isn't a single right-angle in the whole place. Yet, when we arrived home late last Sunday night--we sighed relief and were glad to be there.
Initially the main appeal of our place was price. We're poor, and the place was cheap. But it didn't take long to find things to like about it. We have more room than we used to; a bigger bedroom, kitchen, and a whole dinning room (which kind of dwarfs our humble kitchen table). Though we live just three blocks from our old place, it is incredibly more quiet. On a clear night I can see the Sears Tower from my bedroom and out the dining room I look down onto a charming little street of houses.
But I think this new appreciation of home goes beyond the physical charms of the place. I'm learning more about what really makes me happy. I think for Nicole and I, its being together. This week, a friend asked me how I was doing considering my struggle to find a ministry call and the financial pressures of this current recession. Though those things do weigh heavily on me, I was still able to say with integrity, "we're doing great". Nicole and I enjoy the simple pleasure of each others company and the great excitement about another baby on the way. These are things that are important to us. Yeah, nice things would be nice and I can't honestly say that I don't feel a little malaise as I struggle to find a job, but we've got a roof over our heads and food in the fridge and reruns and friends and boardgames to keep us entertained. Life is full of challenge, but life is good. We're doing great.
Last night I was filled with great pride to see my lovely bride receive her Master's degree at the Winter commencement ceremony. It can't be understated how hard Nicole has worked these last 3.5 years. She's juggled full time work, multiple part time jobs, a full load of graduate courses, and a pregnancy--all while putting up with a dufus like me. Her hard work kept us fed, clothed, and sheltered while we pursued graduate education. After going through so much last winter, Nicole committed to press on with her studies and this fall finished her coursework to earn a Master of Non-Profit Administration degree. I'm continually impressed with her diligence and her grace under fire. She is an inspiration to me. Congratulations, Nicole. You've more than earned it.
We’ve had a full but fun weekend here in the Kennedy house. Saturday was a full day at the farmer’s market for the two of us, but Saturday night we had the pleasure to go see one of my newer favorite bluegrass groups at the Riviera: Old Crow Medicine Show.
OCMS put on a great show with high energy alternative-country that mostly classifies as bluegrass but occasionally reaches into Hank Williams kind of blues ballads. OCMS is definitely “old school” string music, but done with a bit of a punk attitude. OCMS’s self titled album is a quality piece of work; excellent musicianship that carries on the deep traditions of mountain music into the 21st century. Folk music of the American south in the 20th century was steeped in faith, populism, local culture, love of place, a sense of both outrage and resignment over the plight of the southern poor, and the metaphors of great journeys and great wanderings . Like Johnny Cash’s “Man in Black”, OCMS sings about solidarity with the disenfranchised in “I Hear them All”. While many of the great country musicians have sun g extensively about battles with drugs and alcohol, OCMS plays the contemporary version of the same battle with songs like “Methamphetamine”, “Tennessee Pusher”, and “Tell it to Me”—exploring the great struggle rural communities face against the scourge of substance abuse. The band played with unprecedented energy, speed, and skill that kept the crowd dancing throughout the evening. OCMS mostly tours the south, so their concert here in Chicago was a special event which brought out fans from all across the Midwest who raucously sang and danced to all the great music. They didn’t sing any louder than when the band played their hit song, "Wagon Wheel"—a song I can listen to over and over and not get tired of. Like some of the best country music, it’s a song about struggle that makes you want to sing loud in with a defiant hope. It makes you want to cry but also makes you want to sing out with joy.
Even though we were out late on Saturday, we decided to get up early on Sunday to head north and spend the day in Wisconsin to see some old friends and take in some brilliant fall foliage. We worshiped with our family at Anchor Covenant Church, and it was good to be among them again. We admired the brilliant colors of autumn in Lake Geneva, took a drive through the country, took a little hike in the Kettle Moraine Forrest, and then sampled some cheeses on the way home—getting home just in time to watch the Seahawks embarrass themselves on Sunday Night Football yet again.
I've always been fascinated by maps. As a kid, whenever we were on a road trip I would love to trace our route and note the things we might see along the way (I still do this now). Recently I've been following the election polls and examining the "electoral map" of the United States, noting which states turn "blue" or "red" with different public opinion polls (www.fivethirtyeight.com is my favorite site for this). Yet there are things about maps that are deceiving. For instance; on a world map North American and Europe are always at the top? As our planet floats in space is there any real objective way to say that North is up? Yes it could be a matter of aesthetics, but I think it mostly is a product of perspective. We who are wealthy and strong want to see our homes at the top of the map. You might also notice the way that taking a round globe and putting on a flat map distorts some of the preportions of the globe (is Greenland really almost as big as Africa? No, its only about 40% the land mass [see also Australia).
The subjectivity of our perspective can fundamentally alter the way we think. Hard data is not that hard to the human mind. Consider the fears we might have of terrorism, kidnappings, or freak accidents to our apathy about the mundane things that are more likely to prematurely kill us: heart disease, cancer, drunk driving, driving while texting. The odds are astronomically greater that the donuts I had for breakfast is the more likelier cause of my death than gang crossfire. But you wouldn't know it the way we talk about what scares us.
So as we consider the great threats we face in the United States of turmoil in our pocket books as well as geopolitical turmoil, it would do us well to try and get some perspective. Take a look at these maps.
This is our planet as it appears geographically. But look below as the map is altered to reflect what people suffered the greatest casualties of warfare in the 2oth century.
Its not hard to see how Africa, Asia, and the Middle East have suffered the most catastrophic war-time suffering even when you account for the devastation of Europe in WWII. Consider now what the future of global economics might hold...
This is a projection of the distribution of wealth through 2015. Notice that even though India and East Asia project to grow enormously, Europe and the U.S. still maintain a huge portion of wealth-- and Africa remains far behind.
I posit all of this to say, for us in the United States, all the fear we may experience as it relates to financial and national security might be overstated. It might be that the reality of our situation is not that we're "crashing", but that we're coming back down to earth. We've been insulated from so long from the violence and poverty of the rest of the planet that the economic and political troubles of our day feel more threatening than they really are. Don't get me wrong, I know things are tough for a lot of people-- many Americans are suffering the burdens of medical debt, unemployment/underemployment, or fear for a loved one deployed in a war zone. All I suggest is that as the world gets smaller, each of us should expand our outlook to consider not just quality of life here in America--but all over our small world.
Being in seminary was an experience that surprisingly limited the amount of decisions I had to make. Essentially the life of a seminary student is to show up, do what your professors tell you to do, and try and squeeze in a little sleep now and then. Sure, occasionally you had some life decisions to make carefully, but most of the time you're so busy just trying to stay afloat that you don't have time to consider other alternatives.
Now that I'm living a partway normal life again, I feel the pressures of making right and wrong decisions more clearly now. When prayer, reflection, dialogue, study, and critical thinking are part of you're assigned work--you do it. But now that I'm "free" from the watchful guidance of professors and colleagues, I find myself less and less practicing the art of moral discernment. In my day to day decisions, how do I decide what is right and what is wrong?
I've long believed that Christian life in its most basic principle is that God cares for us, thus we should care what God wants of us. It is that principle which shapes every decision of everyday. But this presupposes a couple things: one being that you believe God cares, and two being that you are willing to let your life be led by another--that you're willing to give up your freedom for the one who "took the nature of a slave... humbled... by becoming obedient to the point of death--even death on a cross!" (Phillipians 2.7-8). Christian life means admitting that you don't have all the answers and that you need someone else to show you the way.
For a Christian, the moral life must first and foremost be shaped not only by the example of Jesus--but by seeking to know Jesus intimately by way of prayer, devotion, and participation in Jesus' family (the Church). Here is where I've run into trouble. Without a disciplined life set up for me in the form of the seminary educational experience, I've found that on my own I've fallen out of practice in some of these things. Prayer life is too inconsistent, I've sometimes now gone weeks between times of good devotional reading and reflection, and since being finished with my internship in Lake Geneva its been hard to fully involve myself in the life of my local church--in fact, in two of the last three weeks I've missed Sunday worship for less than good reasons.
Now as I try and live my moral life I think I've been running and operating on some "moral capital" that I've built up in my life--but that my "tanks" are running a bit low without daily disciplines to know and follow Jesus. I still make the best effort to love and respect everyone, I still try and use my money and time as if they were gifts and not something owed to me, I try and live responsibly towards all. Not always successfully, but I make an honest effort a lot of the time. Yet nowadays, as larger decisions loom on the horizon of what direction our lives will go-- I find myself challenged to ask myself what does Jesus really want from me? Is what Jesus wants from me different from what society tells me is right? Is what Jesus wants different even from what my friends and family might think is right? Read the gospels and one finds that the moral commands of Jesus were often unpopular. The rich young man wants to follow Jesus and proudly admits he keeps all the commandments, but when Jesus tells him to sell everything and give all the money to the poor, the young man can't commit. I'm no different. Why should I think that Jesus expects less of me? All around us the world bombards us with admonition to seek out money, sex, and power. Jesus, on the other hand, invites us to seek out love, faithfulness, and service. That's not a good way to sell cars... or make friends.
When Evie was fighting for her life in the hospital, Nicole and I were prepared to sacrifice everything to give her the chance to live. We loved her and were prepared to do what it takes. The loving character of God is the same way, demonstrated in the loving sacrifice of Christ to give us the chance to live. After Evie died, Nicole and I took the break we needed to begin the healing process of grief and we've been consistent in finding ways to try and enjoy ourselves by taking time to recreate and relax--especially this summer. But at what point do we refocus our energy again to the loving sacrifice we were so prepared to make for Evie, this time for our friend Jesus? Have we crossed a line from "self-care" to "self indulgence"? Its not easy to live a good life right now. I've found vices creeping in more steadily. I have a feeling it not unrelated to the fact that my faith is still somewhat weak and that in the wound I felt at the death of Evie, I have not yet fully placed my trust back in my God. It is like a friendship strained-- you still know this friend and still have affection for them, but things just aren't quite the same between the two of you. In some ways I still struggle to know and love God in light of this tragedy. But I am nowhere near ready to give up. I know God has been patient with me. I ought to return the favor.
Our loving God is not some kind of fuddy-duddy from on high who doesn't want humans to have fun or enjoy themselves. God is for abundant life, God is the giver of good gifts. What God expects of us is that we use his good gifts responsibly-- for the good of both ourselves and others, trusting that the creator knows best where lasting joy and satisfaction are. Its a matter of trusting that lasting joy might exist elsewhere besides indulgence in physical and material pleasures or self-oriented human relationships. One only need look around at the abundance of self-destruction that happens among those who achieve all the money, sex, and power they want to see that lasting joy is not found there. If the good life is not found in such things, then perhaps St. Francis was right, "It is in giving that we receive... it is in dying (to self?) that we are born into eternal life".
Its not always a popular thing to talk about morality and there are a lot of self-righteous people out there who have tainted the discussion. These thoughts aren't about passing judgement on another--but rather an acknowledgement that all of us sinners who dare turn to Jesus have both a welcome embrace of his love but also an invitation to live a radical life of virtue. As Luther said of us who dare preach the gospel, "we're just beggars telling other beggars where to find bread."
Nurturing a good life takes practice: spiritual discipline. Creating daily habbits of charity, justice, faithfulness, self-control, and care will form us into the people who can make good decisions both big and small.
It's a little presumptuous, but that's how Chicago is frequently referred to by the DJ on one of my local radio stations. Some days I can almost believe it. My summer work requires me to awake at wee early hours to drive downtown before heading out to farmer's markets. Since today is the longest day of the year, it also happens to be one of the earliest sunrises. Having grown up on the west coast I've seen the sun set over the ocean a million times but I've never seen the sun rise over a body of water. Living in Chicago I've never been up early enough to watch it rise over Lake Michigan, and my job wakes me up too early most days for it (about the time he sun actually rises I'm down inside a sub-zero underground freezer). Yet this morning I got to behold the awesome sight. As I drove the expressway towards downtown, early morning light made the northern half of the skyline silhouette while the southern half of the skyline was still in enough dark sky to be illuminated only by the light of office windows. Very cool.
The summer I interned at Lutheran General Hospital I often volunteered for overnight shifts. I remember one particularly long night where six different deaths required some ministry from me. After all the sadness and pain of the evening I went up to the 12th floor caferteria to get some coffee to push through my last 30 minutes on call. I looked out the panoramic window worn down by a night of death but grace gifted me with a vision of hope, the sunrise over the city. Even though many living light's had been extinguished through the night, the sun still rose the next day and each and everyday. Long after I and everyone I love has passed on the sun will still rise each morning. The universe will unfold as it should. We are but a small piece of a larger symphony. The sun rises every morning--that does not change. Mercy is new every morning. Life goes on.
Its a lot like the promise of changing seasons. Long winter has now become welcome summer. Though I spent most of my afternoon stuck in traffic, I got to listen to exciting baseball as the Cubs and Sox played an exciting game ending with a walk off home run. A near perfect 72 degrees meant driving through the city with my windows down. Driving up Lakeshore drive I admired the city's fantastic architecture to my left, and summer fun in Lincoln park to my right... and Lake Michicagan beyond that. When the humidity is not oppressive, summer in Chicago is a lot of fun. There are an abundance of festivals and concerts--many free. For our birthday Nicole and I took advantage of the great ethnic diversity of our city to find some new cuisine to try (Ethiopian food has some charms, but we weren't entirely won over). Still, our city affords us lots of opportunities for adventure. Heck, there's even abundant wildlife! Just today they've found an alligator in the Chicago river. I've heard multiple versions of a North Park legend about a python in the north branch, but this is new. After our recent cougar incident, nothing surprises me.
I'm finding that this "in-between time" of being finished with seminary but not yet placed in ministry is just fine for right now. It's a great time to be in Chicago.
It was a long winter in many ways. Thats why Nicole and I were tickled at the offer by my parents to accompany them on a short cruise to celebrate both my graduation and our fifth anniversary. It was the first real vacation we've taken in years.
Just hours after graduation we hopped on a flight to Seattle so we could celebrate H and J's great wedding. Though we arrived a few minutes late, it was a pleasure to be there and celebrate with an intimate group of people--wonderful friends who have remained close throughout the years. On Monday we got on another plane and flew to Long Beach and boarded the "Monarch of the Seas" in San Pedro. Cruising ended up being a lot of fun. We explored the ship, watched two comedians, had fantastic food, watched the ocean, saw dolphins, tourtises, sea lions, and marine fowl, played a few casino games, listened to music, shopped, and just relaxed. Our first port was in San Diego were we spent the day with a good friend just hanging out (and having delicious tacos). Our second port was supposed to be Catalina Island, but bad weather forced us to cancel and instead we spent a day at sea. Our final port was Ensenada. It was Nicole's first trip to Mexico, and she seemed to be immediately enamored. Some people only like Mexico for its resort areas, never venturing outside the Americanized confines of resorts and beaches. Ensenada is different, more authentically Mexican--and we like that. Nicole and I enjoy Mexican food and art, as well as we encountering different cultures... so Ensenada was a highlight for us. Neither of us had yet picked out an anniversary gift for each other, so when we found an incredible piece of authentic Mexican art we decided to get it...
We returned to Los Angeles the next day and flew back to Seattle. That night we went to a wedding shower for another old friend, then we made our way down to Cascades Camp to spend a couple days with a couple of our favorite people in one of our favorite places.
It was a week packed full of activity, but for as much as we did in just 8 days, it was a very relaxing experience overall. Flying and traveling was a breeze for once! It was a little silly that we left better weather in Chicago and Seattle for overcast skies in Southern California, but that's okay. It was a great way to kick off the summer.
The stapler in the Seminary computer lab is constantly broken. Turns out that grad students aren't very good with small common office tools. The other day I decided that a new stapler to keep for myself was a worthwhile investment. Normally, I would go to an office supply store like Office Depot. That was the plan. I had to make some photocopies anyway. I went and made my photo copies and then walked out and went on with my other errands. I forgot to get a stapler. It was only after I arrived at the grocery store that I remembered I needed a stapler. Fortunately, the grocery store had a small section devoted to office/school supplies. They had three kinds of staplers: one for $16, one for $4, and one for $2. I bought the $4 stapler because I didn't want to be a cheapskate, but who's gonna pay $16 for a stapler?!?
It may have been the best purchase of my life. The "Staples" brand "Stand-up stapler" is a masterpiece of office supply engineering. Its ergonomic to fit in a single hand, with a comfortable rubber grip. Strong enough to staple together a 15 page report with ease. It comes in a stylish royal blue and includes a box of 1000 standard staples. An impressive office tool for home, work, or school.
Good story, huh?
If you like staplers as much as I do and can't get enough of stapling, check out the Virtual Stapler. There you can play and experiment with three different types of staplers (the sound effects are the best part).
Throughout our whole ordeal with Evie, we simply wrote her blog from the heart. After it was all said and done, many had commended us for the way we presented her story and shared our own inner life. While being praised for quality writing was not at all consoling after the loss we experienced, we are glad that by presenting Evie's story that so many felt close enough to us to care for us. Many were interested and concerned enough to journey with us through our tragedy, its fair that people also have the opportunity to journey with us through recovery. Our lives go on, and so we hope to share some of that here. We'll try and share some thoughts, stories, pictures, and news from our lives. We're just that interesting...
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