Three Things I Learned from Michael Weed

Several months ago, one of my theological and pastoral mentors passed from this life.  Michael Weed, and his wife, Libby, both finished their races within the past several months.  But for over two decades, I and my family were blessed to know the Weeds and I will forever be grateful for the legacy they left so many.  Though time and memory would fail to do justice to all I gained from my interactions with Michael, I would like to share three things I learned from Michael Weed.

Faith Seeking Understanding 

Though some believers may shy away from theology due either to its seemingly foreign or high-fallutin' nature, essentially, theology should not be avoided but embraced.  Theology is simply faith seeking understanding.  Anselm of Canterbury is said to be the originator of this definition, but this sums up what Michael Weed tried to impress upon his students.  We begin with faith, but we do not leave our faith in an infant state.  We grow our faith; we mature our belief.  An unexamined faith is nothing more than blind faith.  But a mature trust in God is the kind of belief that isn't hindered by fear but overcomes fear.  Like perfect love, it drives out fear.    

I have been around some Christians who desire black and white answers and the avoidance of hard or dangerous questions.  These individuals tend to embrace indoctrination and avoid a robust education.  They would rather be told what to think, instead of figuring out how to think.  In the long run, this might, ironically, lead to someone losing their faith, rather than developing a tried-and-true trust in Christ.  Michael Weed never avoided the tough questions, instead he faced them head on and taught his students to do the same.

We Do Not Worship the Bible

It is easy to miss the forest for the trees.  In some circles of conservative Christianity, the Bible is so revered that it is nearly worshiped.  What a strange form of idolatry!  Michael Weed impressed upon me that we do not worship the Bible, but rather the God to which scripture points.  The word of God is not God.  But the word of God does lead us to the Word of God (Jesus - see John 1:1 & ff).  In fact, under Weed's guidance and through deep reflection, I have come to embrace an incarnational theology of scripture.  What I mean is that rather than believing that God dictated scripture in a mechanical way to human beings, the Spirit instead inspired the writing of scripture from the ground up through flawed, broken, and fallible human beings, with all of the limitations that entails.  This has led me to have an even greater respect for the Bible than I previously had.  God meets humanity where humanity is, including in the authoring of sacred texts.  In fact, the entire story of scripture is the tale of God using unlikely people and means to accomplish his will.  

Tradition is Not a Bad Word 

Tradition has taken a bad rap over the past few decades in some church circles.  I believe this is due to a couple of things.  For one, Jesus constantly harped on the Pharisees for their reliance on the tradition of men at the expense of YHWH's instruction through the Torah.  Another reason that tradition has a bad name in some faith communities is that the Roman Catholic Church has at times emphasized its own traditions at the expense of scripture.  No doubt, both of these instances should remind us that tradition can go awry, but tradition, in and of itself is neither good nor bad.  It all depends on the kinds of traditions we are considering.  Context matters.

Think of all the amazing traditions we honor each and every holiday season.  Consider your own family traditions at birthdays and anniversaries.  How many of us wholeheartedly embrace the traditions of our High Schools and Universities at sports games and graduations?  Traditions are crucial for creating and sustaining our identities as human beings and communities.  It's been said that tradition is the living faith of dead people, and that traditionalism is the dead faith of living people.  I think this is a healthy perspective and one that Michael Weed was always committed to.  Michael reenergized my appreciation for "tradition".  

Legacy 

I think we all desire to leave a legacy for others when our time on earth has come to an end.  Usually though, the legacies we leave will vary.  We may not leave the same legacy for each individual we impact.  I know Michael Weed meant so much to so many people.  What they drew from Michael will undoubtedly be different than the ways that he impacted me.  And of course, these three snippets are only snippets.  I have far more memories of my time under Weed's tutelage and pastoral care.  I will leave you with one anecdotal story that exemplifies Michael's pastoral heart, as well as his theological prowess.  

In the early 00s, I was perplexed by the shallow and short-sighted direction that many within evangelical churches were seemingly headed.  I couldn't get my head around why congregations were whole-heartedly and unreflectingly embracing mass-marketing and consumerist tendencies over rigorous discipleship and genuine community.  I expressed some of my frustrations with Michael and he invited me to his home one afternoon where he shared a "church history" lesson and then offered a positive vision for the future that he hoped I would carry with me as I continued my ministerial journey.  That afternoon was simultaneously theological, pastoral, and personal.  I know that I am not the only one who will continue to miss Michael and Libby Weed. - Shay  

Still Trying to Figure it Out

I do not possess a "scientific" mind.  I never took physics, I struggled in chemistry and biology, and mathematics is not my strong suit.  Engineering, medicine, or related fields were never going to be an option for me.  But I love it when experts in their field can make complex ideas understandable for me.  I am also thankful that there are incredibly intelligent people who can design and build stuff and help me get better when I'm sick.   

Though I'm grateful for the work scientists, doctors, engineers, and architects do, I am more intriqued by fields of study such as philosophy.  Like theology, what a person even means by "philosophy" can be quite fluid and diverse.  For me, philosophy is simply a way of describing how humanity, individually and collectively, has historically and presently tried to understand reality and make our way in the world.  Just as there is a "history" of everything (though we have yet to fully uncover, unpack, and understand that history), there might be a philosophy for everything.  In other words, every facet of human existence lends itself to "navel gazing".  We seek to understand why things are the way they are, and we also seek to, if possible, improve things in the future, either individually or socially.  

I recently listened to a philosopher speak on a podcast and what struck me was the way this particular thinker tried to break everything down into its material - and even its atomic structure.  So, according to this philosopher, humans are nothing more than a conglomeration of atoms and chemical reactions.  According to him, what we "see" as reality, is nothing more than an illusion.  I think I have a vague idea of where he's coming from, but it's a very strange way of looking at the world.  It also raises the question - if everything is an illusion, then who is this illusion fooling?  

Certainly, within each of us there are millions, if not billions or trillions of microscopic cells, organisms, and processes constantly working to keep us sound and whole.  How it all fits together and works, for the most part, in harmony, blows my mind!  But where does my "mind" even come from?  What is consciousness, and how does it even "arise" from the material substances that make up our bodies?  This is a question that science and philosophy has yet to answer.  But what should be plain to each and every one of us is that we are more - far more - than the sum of our parts.  I am someone - a person - a being with a past, present, and future.  I am not simply two feet, two legs, two arms, a torso, and a head.  Yes, those parts help to form and make me who I am - but they are not me.  How much more am I not simply a collection of atoms and chemical processes.  

I recently gave a ride to a philosopher who teaches at one of the many local universities in the area.  We briefly chatted about both philosophy and religion over the 20-minute drive, and he expressed his dismay at the overly "scientific" way of doing philosophy that many modern philosophers have adopted.  Yes, a table might at its most basic level be a collection of atoms, but it also functions as so much more.  It might be a place to write, draw, paint, or otherwise create.  It can function as the centerpiece of community as people gather around the table and share a meal and conversation.  When all of us talk about tables - we don't - or at least, should not simply talk about its atomic structure.  Equally, I would argue that there's far more to humanity than the building blocks that help to make us who and what we are.  Those building blocks are necessary, but they are simply a means to a far greater end.  And what is that greater end?  Well, that to me is what philosophy, theology, history, and religion are all about.  I'm still trying to figure it out.  What about you? - Shay 

Dealing with Disappointment? Hang in there...

How do we handle disappointment?  What do we do with setbacks?  Where do we turn when life is confusing?  What do we do when we are facing far more questions than we have answers?

For over 20 months, I've faced an uncertain future and I've had to be resilient as I've encountered an open-ended transition in life.  Transitions are difficult - even more so when they are nearly two years in duration.

Since January of 2022, every time I've thought I glanced light at the end of a tunnel, I have quickly realized that it was train headed straight for me!  Thankfully the tunnels have been wide enough to avoid sudden destruction, but I'm getting tired of sucking in my gut and gripping the cold and rough textured masonry of these modern engineering marvels. 

So, back to my initial questions.  How do we handle setbacks and uncertainty?  The Apostle Paul, who was no stranger to disappointment, provides a way forward.  In the first part of Romans 8, Paul declares that through the gospel of Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit, our lives are being transformed and our eternal hope is secure.  One day we will be raised to bodily life in God's renewed creation.  Our present struggles pale in comparison to the glory yet to be revealed.  Ultimately, it's all going to work out in the end.  But what about the middle parts - what about the here and now?  

Paul goes on to remind us that God works all things for the good for those who love God and are called according to his purposes.  Note, Paul does not say that all things are good.  He does not declare that everything in the world is in accordance with God's will.  But he does say that God is powerful enough to bring good from all things - even bad things.  Some things in life suck!  But, somehow, through God's providence and his often-unseen actions in our world, God will take all things - the good, the bad, and the ugly - and work them for the ultimate good of those who love him and continue to seek him.  Paul then goes onto say that because God is for us, there is nothing against us that has the power to overcome us.  He reminds us that Jesus was willing to die for us.  So, is there anything else in all of creation that can possibly separate us from the love of God in Christ?  Absolutely not!  

In the big picture, my present circumstances are actually, pretty good.  I and my family are healthy.  We have food and shelter.  We are surrounded by people who love us, whether geographically near or far.  We live in an age when so many of the crises and hardships that people of antiquity faced are now non-existent.  There are many people around the world in 2023 who are suffering through war, extreme poverty, and spiritual barrenness.  None of these are plights my family is currently enduring.  

But that doesn't mean that everything in my life is peachy.  That doesn't mean that I and my family are not presently going through a difficult season.  Like everyone, we too face struggles.  But we face those struggles with faith, hope, and love.  We have faith that this season will pass - and even if it doesn't, our ultimate hope is secure.  And the love of God that Christ has poured out on us through his Spirit, comforts us through the hard times.  This gives us the ability to press on come what may.  If like me, you face an uncertain future - hang in there.  If like me, you are struggling - hang in there.  If like me, you are facing disappointment - hang in there.  This too shall pass, and even if it doesn't, what we face in the present pales in comparison to God's final future yet to be revealed!  Hang in there. - Shay       

A Boy Can Dream, Can't He?!!!

 I had to go all the way to England to meet a girl who grew up in Oklahoma and Missouri!  I can still remember the day in early May of 1999 when I walked off of the plane into the smaller than expected airport in Birmingham, England.  It was a damp and dreary day (read typical), but Juli's smiling face was a ray of sunshine for this travel weary jet-lagged 21-year-old.  I remember seeing her from a distance and thinking to myself, "Wow, she's good looking!"  Extending my hand out for a shake, I introduced myself with all of the James Bond cool I could muster: "Hey, I'm Shay."  Juli was not impressed.  When I found out later that day that Juli had a boyfriend, let's just say I was disappointed.

For the next four months, Juli and I worked together in Nottingham on a missions team with 8 other American young people.  Mid-summer, I learned that Juli had been dumped by her boyfriend who was a part of the same missions program but based in Portugal.  I should have been sympathetic, but I couldn't quite hide my delight.  My initial intrigue had turned into full-scale infatuation, and I thought that things were beginning to come together for our imminent relationship.  Again, Juli was less than impressed with my not-so-subtle swooning, as she said to herself, "I would never date this guy, let alone marry him!"  But a boy can dream, can't he?!!

As September came and Juli's departure date neared, I felt I had to transparently express my feelings for her.  I could not be content with letting my subtle and not-so-subtle hints substitute for laying my feelings on the line.  But I was scared - scared that my feelings for Juli might not be mutual.  So, rather than having a conversation with her face to face, on the night before she was scheduled to fly back to the States, I wrote her a letter, requesting her not to read it until she was over the Atlantic.  I still remember arriving at her house in the early morning hours, just as she boarded the van scheduled to take her to the airport.  I gave her a hug, handed her the letter, and explained my request.  I don't remember the exact details of the letter, but I shared my heart and I mentioned that at the very least, I hoped that I was planting a seed that might come to fruition at a later date.  Then I waited.  I waited.  And I continued to wait.  In the days when snail mail was still a thing, email a kind of luxury, and trans-Atlantic texting non-existent, I knew it might take some time.  But surely, I would hear back from her, I thought.  I thought wrong!  There was never a letter or an email acknowledging that she had read the letter.  I never even received a polite response with a, "Thank you, but no thank you."  Crickets.  

When it comes to relationships, I'm no Dr. Phil, but even I realized that when October and November came and went, her response was a hard "no" without the "thank you."

But a boy can dream, can't he?!! For whatever reason, I didn't give up, even if I moved on for the time being.

Fast-forward to the Fall of 2000.  As I sat in my apartment adjacent to the University of Texas at Austin, I contemplated my future.  I had been a Broadcast Journalism major in the College of Communications at UT, but I had decided to change my major to Education.  Should I switch to the College of Education at UT, or should I transfer back to Lubbock Christian University?  There were solid arguments for either decision, but Juli was living in Lubbock, not Austin.  I can't say that Juli was the deciding factor (I had only seen her once since getting back to the States and there was no indication that her feelings for me were any different than before), but her presence in Buddy Holly's backyard definitely played a part.  

As I bookended my college career in Lubbock, I had the time to re-launch mission improbable.  Slowly, but surely through church events, social gatherings, game nights, and a decisive trip with friends to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in New Mexico, I was able to water and fertilize the seeds previously planted.  Over the Summer of 2001, I was a camp counselor at Blue Haven, while Juli lived with her sister in the Dallas area.  I sent her several pieces of snail mail, and this time she returned the favor.  By the Fall, we were a "couple" and despite a couple of break-ups along the way, we said "I do" on August 17, 2002.  We celebrate 21 years of marriage today!

Juli would be the first person to tell you that me marrying her was extremely unlikely in the beginning.  But a boy can dream, can't he?!!  I persevered in my pursuit of my dream girl and that has been one of the best decisions I've ever made.  Like all relationships, this one hasn't always been easy, but I wouldn't trade it for anything!  I pray that God will give us many, many more decades together, but no matter how much time we have, I don't want to live this life with anyone but Juli.  My wife is a gift from God!  And the God who keeps on giving saw fit to give us Ashlyn, 7 years later.  So, on this my anniversary, I am filled with nothing less than gratitude. - Shay   

Undefined Future

Have you ever wished you could jump in a time machine and revisit your past?  Maybe you would like to relive the "good old days".  You might want to experience the world through those naive, but hopeful spectacles we wear in our youth.  It would be so refreshing to not only experience the good times of our past through our memories, but to actually experience them all over again - in our bodies - in real space and time.  Time travel would be exciting!

But if you're like me, you probably would like to change a few things too.  You undoubtedly have a few regrets.  And how nice it would be to get a "do-over".  Now, if we really could change our past - even for the better - we might discover all kinds of other things in our world that would also have changed.  Probably some for the better, and maybe a few for the worse.  But that's a whole other pseudo-scientific philosophical discussion that we'll leave for another time.  Time travel does not exist and so we cannot change our past.  We do not get "mulligans" in the real world.

We cannot change our past, but our past does not define our future - unless we let it.  Our past might inform our future (and it probably should), but it does not have to encroach on the freedom that our future affords us.  The narrative of our life has begun to be written, but it is not yet a fully finished work.  There are blank pages just waiting to be filled with the stuff of our stories.  

To take the story metaphor (although its more reality than metaphor I believe) a little further, we sometimes need to be reminded that people possess the power to change.  Like interesting characters in well-developed fiction, who we are and who we are becoming is an ever-evolving process.  Who I am at 46 isn't the person I was at 23, or even 45.  Who I will be at 50 should be at least a little different than who I am right now.  

Due to major life changes over the past 20 months, I've spent much time in reflection.  I've taken a hard look at my past, both the good and the bad, and I've gained a deeper appreciation for who I am in the present.  And though I certainly have regrets, I have made a conscious decision to learn from my mistakes and then to leave them in the past.  They will inform my future, but they will not define it.

I've also reminded myself that the majority of my history is worth celebrating.  I have had a great life and I am extremely grateful for all the blessings that the Father has poured into my lap.  Christ has accomplished good things through me and the other people he's placed in my path.  And though I am far from finished, I've seen transformation through the Spirit's work in my character.  I'm excited to turn another page and to write that next chapter in my story.  

A few months ago, I thought that I would end "Near St. Anne's and the Sea".  Back in May, I started another blog called The Big Narrative where I explore the grand story of the Bible.  I want to keep that format tight.  But I also want to continue to write and reflect on other broad themes and ideas, and this platform is a good place to do that.  So, like our lives, this blog remains open, free, and in process.  It has an undefined future. - Shay    

And end and a beginning...

"If I was going to Dublin, I wouldn't start from here.", goes the punchline to a joke about tourists in Ireland trying to get back to Dublin's fair city.  Kansas City isn't the place most would start on a journey to Dublin - some might say, a journey to anywhere.  But Kansas City was the final USA city that Juli, Ashlyn (aged 8 months), and I spent a few days in, 12 years ago, before embarking on the journey of lifetime.  On June 23, 2010, we touched down in Dublin, having begun our initial flight in KC.  Exactly 7 years ago today, we touched down at Kansas City International Airport having arrived back in the US from our 5 years abroad.  

Our adventures in life don't always begin where we think they should, nor do they always end quite how we might expect.  In his poem, Little Gidding, TS Eliot writes: 

"If you came this way, taking the route you would be likely to take from the place you would be likely to come from...If you came this way, taking any route, starting from anywhere, at any time or at any season, it would always be the same: you would have to put off sense and notion.  You are not here to verify, instruct yourself, or inform curiosity or carry report.  You are here to kneel where prayer has been valid."

I've done a lot of reflection over the past 12 years.  Reflection on our 5 years in Ireland. Reflection on the time I spent as an associate minister in Burleson, TX.  Reflection on our 2 and 1/2 years in Colorado.  Reflection on the 6 months spent in Kansas City.  Reflection on my 8 years prior to Ireland in Austin, TX. Reflection on my entire life.  With all the reflection - reflection on the good, the terrible, the exhilarating, the disappointing, and the unexpected.  More than anything, I'm left with gratitude.  And that gratitude drives me to kneel where prayer has been valid.

The great philosopher poet Dan Wilson once said, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."  He was riffing on TS Eliot who, also in Little Gidding penned:

"What we call the beginning is often the end and to make an end is to make a beginning.  The end is where we start from."

Now that I'm in my mid 40s, I've contemplated having a mid-life crisis, but since none of us really know the mid-point of our lives, I've decided to give the crisis a pass.  Middles are hard to discern, but beginnings and endings are where the meaning lives.  In fact, through the gospel, life is a series of new beginnings, implying that it is also a series of endings.  

So, whether we are at the beginning, the end, or unknowingly, in the middle of something - anything - we have to decide how we will proceed, or even if we will proceed.  I choose to keep exploring.  Of course, you know where this is going.  I turn it over to Thomas Stearns Eliot again:

"We shall not cease from exploration.  And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."

I began this blog in Dublin and I end it in Kansas City (or Shawnee to be more precise).  But this end is also a beginning.  I've now begun a new blog at The Big Narrative where I hope you will join me in exploring the grand story of the Bible. - Shay

A New Blog and Podcast

I began this blog back in the late summer of 2010.  My family had just moved to Dublin, Ireland, and so I created "Near St. Anne's and the Sea" as a way to journal some of our experiences on the Emerald Isle.  It was not a day-to-day journal, nor was it a "missions report".  It was just a way to capture some of my observations and experiences in Dublin's fair city.  I continued the blog when I returned to the States, but I must confess that I have been negligent and inconsistent in its writing.  This is the 199th blog and my plan is to write one last blog after this one.  Ending it on number 200 seems right.  The blog will remain up, but I will not add any other posts.  It will serve as a snapshot of the last 11 & 1/2 years - an incomplete and at times blurry snapshot.  

As me and my family begin a new chapter in our lives, I plan to continue to document my observations and occasionally, some of my experiences.  In addition to this, I am going to start a podcast.  The podcast will be focused on "obscure and difficult" Biblical texts.  Each podcast will be between 5 and 15 minutes.  It obviously will not be the definitive exposition on these texts, and at times, I may simply wander around in circles.  What this podcast will not be is a way to try to "harmonize" these difficult passages with any systematic theology, nor will it be an attempt to fit square pegs into round holes.  I hope to raise just as many questions, as I provide answers.  And of course, my answers will always be inadequate at best.  I hope to engage the best of Biblical scholarship from time to time and I may even invite a theologian or two to contribute their two cents.  But at the end of the day, I will simply put forth my opinion, or at least my best guess at this stage of my journey.  As always, I am open to amend my thoughts and change my mind as further information comes to light or further reflection alters my perception.

By way of confession, I admit at the outset that I cannot read a lick of Hebrew and I struggled with Biblical Greek.  But for the past twenty years, I have immersed myself in the Biblical text and I have read a wide variety of scholars and theologians.  What I lack in technical scholarship, I try to make up with grit, passion, and workarounds.  Some people know just enough Greek to be dangerous - thankfully I don't even know that much.  And I know I don't know that much.

So, watch this space for links to the new blog and the new podcast.  Thanks for reading and please consider lending me your ear. - Shay