Happy Halloween...

Less than two hours before the 4th annual Shorb Family Harvest/Halloween Costume Extravaganza. Are you coming?

Erica has a previously-made commitment leading right up to start time. I've got a lot to organize, cook, and a costume to finish up, all on my own.

I decided to write here instead.

Look for pictures in the coming days.

Champs!

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I always thought it rather odd when sports fans included themselves when talking about their favorite sports teams...but...

WE DID IT!

But let's be honest...I'm just glad I didn't have to stay up til midnight to see it happen.

That sounds nice.

Call it mere rhetoric if you insist, but I think it's completely refreshing to hear a certain presidential candidate say, "I will never be a perfect president."

Those are words of realism, honesty, and humility that my ears have been itching to hear for the past eight years. Being willing and able to utter those words--even if they are just a ploy to get votes--says something.

Now...let's get on with the game!!! C'mon, Phillies! Tonight's the night! It's absolutely freezing over here, but the rain is gone, so let's finish this thing.

Yes!

I'm going to pay for this tomorrow morning...not a great way to start any week...

But it's 11:30 PM...we just went up 10-2...

Go Phils!

Adventures in Strategic Planning

I am in many ways honored to have been asked to participate in creating a Strategic Plan for the school in which I teach. We started the process last spring, surveying parents, faculty, administrators, students, alumni, trustees, and so on for their perceived strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and challenges for the school community. This weekend, several representatives of those groups gathered together to hash things out even further and come up with critical areas on which we should focus for the plan.

I say I am honored because I was the youngest one in the room by at the very least 10 years, with very little experience other than two years at a local public school and one year at this school. I looked around the table to find very many important, successful, experienced people and wondered where in the world I fit in. One, CEO of Crayola. Another, Chair of Rodale, Inc. (the people who published An Inconvient Truth). And many, many others, the least of which have been teaching or directing at the school for 10, 20, 30 years. What was I doing in that room???

Needless to say, so far, it's been an incredibly interesting and profitable experience.

I found it interesting to be reminded that at its start 1742, its humble Christian founders were known for educating Native Americans, African slaves, and women, a radical notion at the time and even today. It made me think, too, of my collegiate Alma Mater founded in 1846, also started by Christians in order to educate women, and went on, too, to educate that famous African prince. What is it about these Christian ideals that stressed the importance of women and "minorities" being educated? And, more importantly, why does it at times seem as though Christians are regressing in these areas and ideas?

As I listened to us rehashing all the strengths of this school, particularly its unique environment and culture of thoughtful respect, I could only attribute it to its Christian foundation. The school was founded on Biblical principles, principles of truth, and they have trickled down and carried on through the years without its constituencies even realizing. When someone describes the school's culture, they often admit they don't know how it has happened or how it continues. I believe there are subconscious ways of running the school and interacting with one another that have gone on for 266 years and ultimately have their origin in Biblical truth. That's why it's the place that it is.

To be honest, I'm scared that because we don't realize it, and because Biblical truth is no longer held in high regard, we'll take ideas and philosophies from all sorts of other places and use them to run our school in this 21st century, and a little bit down the road we'll wonder what has happened to our community.

And whoa. As I'm typing this, it's dawning on me. Maybe this is what I was doing in that room today. Yikes.

Am I supposed to speak up now?

Go Phils...!

To my embarrassment, I can honestly admit I don't know the name of a single player on the Phillies.

But tonight I've positioned the rabbit ears just right (time to get a digital receiver conversion box!!!), it's 8:00, and the World Series is about to begin.

I'll be proud to be a jock for the next several days.

Go Phillies.

Aren't you proud of me, Yoder?

Leaves at Recess

The leaves are falling like snowflakes today, slow and steady with each gust of wind.

The kids are all joining in on a game where they attempt to catch a leaf before it hits the ground. Gives good luck, or something like that.

At one beautiful moment during recess, the wind picked up and I looked to see nearly every child on the playground with their necks bent back, eyes looking upward, mouths agape, smiling and laughing, arms and hands outstretched, carelessly and clumsily running, trying desperately to grab the leaf on which their sights were set without running into the others around them.

It was autumn; it was innocence; it was perfect.

Great Faith in Unexpected Places

As some of you know, I preached my first sermon this past Sunday. If that sounds as weird, bizarre, and uncomfortable for you as it does for me, we can say I spoke at a church on Sunday. There. Better.

I did most of my preparation in Philadelphia, when I wasn't grading papers or watching Phillies games or observing people or researching skyscrapers.

On Friday morning, I stumbled upon Love Park and was immediately enchanted by the huge fountain on such a lovely sunny day. I took a lap around then found an open bench to start some sermon..er..speaking preparations. I opened to Matthew 15 and reread the story of the woman with great faith.

Jesus only commends two people for their great faith, so when it happens, it demands our attention. Interestingly, both people are very unusual suspects. The woman in Matthew 15 is a Gentile--seemingly excluded from the blessings of a covenant relationship with God. Not only that, she was Greek--a culture at odds with the Jews. Even more, she was a Canaanite--a long-time deep-seeded enemy of the Israelites. To top it off, she was a woman confronting a room full of men--and a feisty one at that. And when this unusual candidate for great faith is placed right next to the Pharisees getting reamed out for hypocrisy and the disciples getting scolded for being so dull, you've got an interesting story on many accounts.

As I continued thinking this over, I heard a voice come from the bench to the right of me. I couldn't hear him very well over the noise of the fountain, and I had to ask him to repeat himself twice. On the third time I heard him ask, "Can we fellowship togetha?"

"Sure!" I answered. He got up and moved to the seat right next to me, sharing a bench.

"I was just sittin' here, thankin' my God for this beautiful day, for everything he's given me, for my health, for my life, for everythin' he's done for me, and then I look over and there you are with a Bible! I cannot believe it! Thank you, God! So, may I ask what you're doin? My name's Calvin, by the way. I'm not botherin' you am I?"

Nice to meet you...not at all...I explained, that, oddly enough, I was preparing to speak on Sunday. He was quite surprised and asked what I was going to speak on. I reviewed this odd story in Matthew 15, where this gutsy woman begs Christ to heal her daughter, and he has some very unusual and disconcerting responses before finally praising her for her great faith. Calvin seemed a little confused. It wasn't until later that we came back and cleared it up a little bit.

We made some small talk...family...jobs...life...weather...until he asked, "So you got any favorite scripture?" I have to admit I was a bit dumbfounded by the question. I've never been much of a favorite type of guy...how does one pick? I punted.

"Mine would have to be First Corinthians two nine." When I asked him what it said, he said, "Oh, I'll let you look it up and read fo yoself." I read it out loud. "I love that verse!" he exclaimed, and went on to explain that when we get to heaven, it's gonna be so great, we can't even imagine it, our minds cannot even conceive it.

I told him that Paul was actually quoting Isaiah, which made me think of one of my current favorite verses. I read Isaiah 55:12. He furrowed his brow and I read it one more time, telling him I loved the picture of pure joy, everything rejoicing, everything made right again. "That's a good one," he agreed.

It stopped there for a while and we talked about Kirk Cameron and other things, then he asked about Matthew 15 again. "What made you choose that story?" he asked.

I explained that I liked how unusual it was, and how it forced us to think. I explained what I thought made the woman's faith so great and so unusual, and then mentioned that it also forced us to ask why Christ responded in the way he did. Was he being cruel?

"Maybe he was just testin' her faith," he said. I agreed. And I explained that this experience probably grew her faith, grew her to become more like Jesus, and was also an important example to the disciples around her. We talked about what this means for us in times of suffering and how Christ isn't out to just meet our every need and make sure we're comfortable and happy all the time, but it's more about becoming more like him.

Calvin got excited about this, understanding and adding to the conversation, repeating, "Yeah! That's true! It's not about us! It's about him!" We talked about Romans 8:28-29, reading it out of my small Bible, saying that the "good" God works for isn't our comfort or material blessing, but being "conformed to his likeness."

After another awkward lull, Calvin first discussed Revelation 21 after having me read the whole thing, excited about the passage when everything is over and done and finished, and we'll be with God, and there will be no more sadness or crying or pain or fear. This brought up his next point when he very emphatically and excitedly explained that the God of Moses and Abraham and Isaac and all those guys way back then is the same exact God that we have today. "He is the Beginning and the End, the same yesterday, today and foreva, and his word stands, and it's truth, and it's good, and he's the same, and he's with us," and on and on he went very excitedly. So much in our world changes constantly, we agreed, and God is the only sure foundation. This led us to Hebrews 10, about "holding unswervingly to the hope we profess because he who promised is faithful." Because he's faithful, we should be too.

A little later, after thumbing through some pages, I asked Calvin, "Why did God save you?" He thought for a while and said, "Hmm. OK. I don't know. Tell me." I read Titus 3:3-5. "At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy." We discussed this some more, stressing yet again that it's not about us, it's about him.

He liked this one so much that he got out his notebook and pencil. Then he asked for a review of all the verses we had discussed, writing down each of their references. After around forty minutes together, he got up to leave, and we wished each other a good day and thanked each other for the encouragement.

I was full of joy the rest of the day. Little did I know when he asked if we could fellowship together that it would end up to be true, rich fellowship. It was indeed, and I was thankful.

I thought about Calvin as I pulled together my last minute preparations on Sunday morning. It hit me like a ton of bricks and my eyes got misty with gratitude. I had spent all this time studying an unusual candidate for great faith, and here God was pleased to place one directly in my path. Calvin was an African-American city-dweller, the oldest of the 13 siblings, a recovering alcoholic. We had very little in common. But he had great, vibrant faith and our bond in Jesus Christ was enough to overcome any other possible barriers. Our time together was sweet and much too short.

When in Rome...

I was sitting outside of the brand new Comcast Center--now the tallest building in Pennsylvania--at a nice little cafe table under a few small trees, desperately trying to grade as many papers as possible as quickly as possible.

I looked up and saw lots of people gathering and staring.

After packing up, I walked over to see what was going on.

Inside the lobby, a huge wall magically turns into a state-of-the-art TV screen (which I've just read is 25 feet tall and 83 feet wide). One minute, it looks like a normal wall, the next minute, a huge, crystal-clear image is shown across it. But at this time, they were showing the Phillies game, larger than life.

As you know, I'm not much of a baseball fan, but I was awfully excited to act like one as I watched the top of the 2nd with lots of other Philadelphians pausing as they passed by. There's an excitement in the air down here, and it's contagious.

(And now that I'm back inside waiting for Erica to be done with class, I see I left at just the wrong time...The Phils just scored four runs!)

Seen at Rittenhouse Square

I'm in Philadelphia. I took a walk to Rittenhouse Square and it was absolutely beautiful. Nearly every bench was occupied. There were so many very different people there. I took a mental list of everyone I saw. I wish I could remember a bit better.

An elderly couple in love.
A crossword puzzle player, legs crossed, sunglasses on his head.
A man with his wiry combover blowing the wrong way.
Young guitar player looking forlorn on a blanket by himself.
Two men playing chess.
A painter, working on easel.
Child feeding potato chips to pigeons from stroller.
Young woman walking three identical dogs.
Man with concerned look on his face.
Two men playing latin percussion instruments.
A girl thumbing her newly purchased book.
A hipster reading a thin book next to a frumpy older woman.
Young moms gossiping.
Group of friends laughing in grass.
Old man in fine suit smoking a cigar with friend.
Lots of Phillies fans. Lots.

Andrew Bird

One of the first Take Away Shows I watched was a man unfamiliar to me, Andrew Bird. He had me at his whistle. I'm often praised for my whistling capabilities, but the noises that come through this man's lips will never be matched by mine. I picked up his album soon thereafter.

Well, it just so happened that he showed up in Bethlehem last night. Imagine that: a national act, that I'm interested in, still enjoying popularity, was actually playing right down the street. (Usually it's the top 40 band of yesteryear, the band everyone jokes about now a few years later, take Hootie and the Blowfish or Sugar Ray, for example.) While the price felt a little steep, we went for it.

It was a magical evening, Bird by himself with his violin, glockenspiel, guitar, crazy loop pedals, sock monkey and large phonograph-inspired-flower-sculptures, along with his theatrical mannerisms and neurotic twitches, his smooth voice, and his awe-inspiring-pitch-perfect-spot-on whistle.
If Willy Wonka had pursued a career in music rather than chocolate, it would sound (and look) something like this.

I'm beginning to be underwhelmed by the use of loop pedals, but when Bird comes up with a violin part that quickly and easily becomes 20 unique layers thick, you know you're watching a different caliber of musician, not to mention the fact that his violin skills are top-notch. In other words, he is worthy of the praise he's received over the years; he's not another run-of-the-mill indie-musician pulling out more instruments that he can't actually completely play just for gimmick's sake.

And all of it is so incredibly natural. The creative music that pumps through his veins and oozes out his fingers without a second thought is simply stunning.

So, life has been a bit crazy for us around here lately. School feels more draining than last year, and there are plenty of other things on our plate to attend to, the least of which is the sermon I was just recruited to preach in one week. (Yes. Me. My first sermon. Weird. I know.) But it was a wonderful breath of relaxing fresh air to get into the mind and world of Mr. Andrew Bird last night. I have a feeling he'll be my background music as I'm attending to all my work over the next week.

Here's the video that introduced me to Bird, a song sadly missing from his set last night, and a performance without violin or loop pedals, but just as captivating nonetheless.



And find some free live Andrew Bird songs over here.