5.21.14
'WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?' Answer #7 An Ephesus- Patmos Connection- the 'believing recklessly and behaving playfully' listening as we go continues. Emmanuel, 'God with us', concisely packages the message God gives us. God with, for, and within us, in order for us to 'be fully alive, like Jesus!' As Henri Nouwen puts it, 'Jesus is more with us' than any other human being. This is the great paradox, since most if not all of our attention is given to the visible things & people which 'appear' to be closer. But geography, gods, gold nor the guru on the imperial throne can stop Jesus' compulsive commitment to be WITH US! Ephesus and Patmos are testimonies to this. Ephesus is the largest ancient Roman reconstructed city in the world. It is audacious, bordering on arrogance. Boasting a population of 400,000 at its height, Ephesus had it all, marble libraries, temples (to the Emperor and Artemis of course), an expansive agora (where Paul probably sold his 'tents' for 3 years), and an expansive harbor which safely welcomed ships commerce as well as sailors for both baths and brothels. It is the New York City of the 1st century. As one walks its streets one can faintly hear Frank Sinatra crooning: 'Ephesus, if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere.' Patmos, by contrast, is 'NO PLACE.' A tiny rocky island miles off the coast of Ephesus in the Aegean Sea. It is NYC's 'New Jersey. 'BUT GOD! Where does GOD do His 'Emmanuel-thing?' IN BOTH PLACES. But again with a minority, from the margins, and for the most part covertly. Shortly after Jesus died and rose, because of persecution, John and Mary (the mother of Jesus) escaped to live incognito on a hill immediately outside Ephesus. From that base, for several years, they could quietly come into and leave Ephesus- all the while planting several churches in Asia Minor. What is an interesting question is: did Paul and John meet each other there? When Emperor Domitian came to power (81-96 A.D.), John was no longer safe in Ephesus. Some say he went to Patmos not so much to be imprisoned but rather to escape the scrutiny of Domitian. Whatever the reason, it worked. Sources on Patmos believe that John spent at least 18 months on the island during which he was free to move about. 'The cave of the apocalypse', (a small area carved out of the rock with one window in it) is the place John would retreat to rest and renew. It is believed here that John received the 'revelation' through the window which faced the sea and by dictating to his scribe (Procurus?) he preserved the vision. There are several tales of his stay on the island- such as some trying to kill him in a boiling pot of oil-yet John lived; others saying that John never physically died but went up to heaven as light. More likely, after the reign of Domitian, John found it safe to return to Ephesus (around 95 A.D.) and finish out his days on that hill (with or without Mary) overlooking Ephesus. Today one finds a small church built in memory of John & Mary on this hill. On the other side of Ephesus up a top the acropolis are the ruins of another church built centuries later- there is a tomb stone claims the spot where John was buried about 105 A.D. (it is believed that John lived to be 104!) We know Paul's stay in the big city of Ephesus was quite different. He appeared to be well 'wired' into the civic and political culture and in the end he certainly did not 'go quietly.' His time included some 'Artemis Fireworks' and ended in an immediate eviction (Acts 19). In the end the church at Ephesus (and Asia Minor) was blessed by both the connected and confrontational Paul as well as by the contemplative John. Jesus is Emmanuel in both Ephesus' and Patmos'- in NYC's and NJ- in BOTH Chicago's& Chico, Montana's. As the letter to the Ephesian's church says, 'according to his good pleasure which he purposed in Christ, to gather up ALL THINGS, in heaven and on earth, in Christ who is the head.' Emmanuel- God with, for, and within us---- just another answer as to 'WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?'
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'WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?' Answer #6
'Rolling out the Turkish Delight'- In the late afternoon of our first complete day in Turkey, Kathie and I were ushered into the side SHOW room of Nedim's Fine Rugs & Artifacts, located in an upscale district of Istanbul. The room was well lit so that we would not miss a nuance of color beaming from hundreds of his rugs. Nedim and his associates knew Funda, our guide, and greeted us like we were royalty. 'Come, come, and see!' Before we could even ask why we were there, the couch was pulled out, the table set with Turkish tea and we were presented with Nedim's magic carpet show. Kathie & I said to each other, 'Oh, my gosh- here we go again!' (Referring to our time in Israel.) As Kathie tried to explain, with little success, that we were not some 'rich American tourists', Nedim shifted into a higher gear. He brought out an elderly woman who spoke no English but was a life-time weaver. She so gracefully demonstrated how the rugs were made by double knotting each strand of wool. 'You try!' Nedim encouraged Kathie. As I enjoyed my second cup of tea, Kathie was giving the weaving a go. 'What colors you like?' asked Nedim in English as he gave commands in Turkish to his assistants. Carpet after carpet came out- large- little- bright- tamer tones. He got a feel for her (our) taste of 'delight.' Noticing Kathie beginning to nibble, I asked 'how much?' Nedim's Turkish Delight had hit a sweet spot. About an hour later, after the first glass of red wine was finished, I wanted to buy one for Kathie. Nedim and I agreed on a price. 'But what about the girls?', Kathie asked. Nedim threw it into overdrive, 'How many daughters you have?' In 10 seconds his assistants threw out another 6 rugs. 'You need more wine. I make you VERY GOOD DEAL! I will take care of all taxes and shipping, just sign here.' With the second glass of wine gone, and the colors of the carpets becoming less clear, the deal was made. Getting back into the van, Kathie leaned over to me, 'What did we just do? This is only the first day. I feel sick.' Yes, and there were four more shows over the next days- carpets, ceramics, onyx, & even fancy silk-leather coats. Oh, the silk leather show- that really pushed the envelope. We were ushered into a show room that seated about 100 people, the only nuance was- WE WERE IT! Being seated directly in front below the 'Strut Your Stuff Stage'- with an upbeat rhythm vibrating the walls and hot TurkishTea along with pencil and note card in hand- the models did their STEPPING one by one. As Kathie sunk with embarrassment, I enjoyed tasting 'beautiful people' rolling out their delights. Yes, a silky sabbatical! After the proprietor tried to get me to try on a $1500 navy blue silk leather reversible jacket (which had caught my eye during the show) and Kathie gave me that stare: "DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT ON!'- we left with purchasing only a $12 ceramic bowl with tulips painted in. Tasting Turkish Delights- just another reason as to WHAT WE ARE DOING HERE. 'GREAT IS ARTEMIS OF THE EPHESIANS'- Artemis (Acts 19) is the mother goddess. With her multiple accessory breasts she became the great goddess of Ephesus, Laodicea, and Sardis. Her breasts were worshipped in temples riddled throughout the 1st century Roman world, she is everywhere. While her temples have been destroyed by earthquakes her breasts have not, only the worship has been transferred from marble edifices to sandy beaches. (I can personally testify to the 'multiple breasts' by my many visits to the beach- in order to swim my laps of course!...... What was that reason Peterson wrote as to the way to stimulate one's imagination: 'to believe recklessly & to behave playfully'- Artemis secures the second for sure!) Artemis was not only a 'propagation stimulus' plan she was also an 'economic stimulus' plan put forth by the government- this of course is where Paul ran into his stiffest opposition. Sex stimulates but its consummation is in the sale. BUT GOD, (you were wondering when He was going show up) is not deterred by neither goddesses nor gold. In this great city of over 400,000 inhabitants, lived these crazy Christians who were neither impressed by her breasts nor the bread she brought. How reckless to remain steadfast against the overwhelming currents of the world's trinity- sex, money, & power! 'Crazy Christians' so out of character, behaving so oddly- exempting out of a mainstream culture that worshipped Emperors, Ecstasies, and Economic Cash Cows! This small group recklessly worshipped, by playfully drinking blood, eating ordinary bread, and re-membering the Word of the Resurrected One. And over all that they recklessly showered real love (agape and phileoo-not only Artemis Eros) upon one another. Another helpful lifestyle to view up close & reason enough TO BE HERE! Pergamon- 'Dying Not Allowed Here' What would you do if you suddenly inherited about $9 billion? That is what happened to a lucky chap named Phileteros in the 3rd century B.C. One of Alexander the Great's generals (Lysimachos) went to war and left the stash he gained from his many conquests with Phileteros while he went out in search for more. Well, his string of victories came to an end and so did he. So what would the over night billionaire, Phileteros do with his booty? He built what became a state of the art Roman city- Pergamon (one of the 7 churches in Revelation). On top of the mountain stand the ruins of a 1st & 2nd century Roman edifice over looking a city of 100k. The site boasts a temple to Zeus & Athenia as well as an Imperial site to worship the emperor Trajan. Its wisdom, measured in the size of its library, was rivaled only by Alexandria. Wealth, wisdom, & worship- the holy trinity of the 1st & 2nd century Roman world was on full display. Yet for all its glory, a little lower down the hill, was constructed a hospital, a 1st century pysch unit (shrinks have been around a long time.) A place where people (primarily workers) came to be renewed and refreshed by entering a tunnel to listen to running water. The water soothed the soul (I get that!) But what was that doing there? Why? Turns out the city for all its advanced wisdom did not realize the fall-out from their LEAD constructed state of the art aqueducts. Thus a hospital was built to calm and tame the terror of the lead induced demons. But since the inscription at the entrance of the hospital read: 'Dying Not Allowed Here' if you looked as though you were not going to make it, you simply were not admitted (maybe that could lower our health care costs.) In and through all this were living the early Christians- small, insignificant in scope and expanse when it came to the wisdom, wealth, and worship of that first century power house. Peterson claims that the most effective way to advance the kingdom is not from the center of society- but rather from its edges, its margins. The kingdom is leaven, salt, mustard seed. This appears to be God's strategy (my word not his). If we want to discover what the Holy Spirit is up to- don't go looking to the world's story line of bigness in wealth, wisdom, & worship. Look rather to the edges- the Little, the Lost, the Least- who and what is ignored in the world's eyes. After all was said and done our chap Phileteros with his $9 billion city did not endure the earthquakes and barbarians that came. It was not at the Pysch Hospital where 'no dying' occurred -- it was among those who held to the reckless belief in resurrection. Just another answer to Kathie & I as to WHY WE WERE THERE. Cappadocia 'strangers & scattered.' 'Peter, an apostle of our Jesus Christ, to God's elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia & Bithynia.' I Peter 1. Why were the 1st & 2nd century Christians here? This, the middle of Turkey, the middle of No-Where (if you like eastern Montana- this is your place). Volcanic eruptions provided a 'Star Trek' topography enabling early people to carve caves in the rock for shelter from the cold and hot sun. It is here Christians fled for safety from the imperial Roman Empire. They (obviously 'strangers & scattered') not only survived but thrived. By deepening the already ancient Hittite caves, they were able to live 4 stories beneath the earth for a month at a time. This meant little food (cooking was dangerous), little light & claustrophobia. Yet also carved into the caves are not only domestic dwellings but places of worship, beautiful frescoes painted and carved into the walls & ceilings. All telling the story of Jesus & the early apostles. All pointing to the Resurrection. It is clear 'why they were there'. But why did the Romans even care that they were there. Was it worth their effort? What was their return on investment? I left with questions. But I also left with a DEEP APPRECIATION for those who have gone before me-the Apostle Peter-St. Basil-St. Simon. 'Strangers- Scattered' people who 'believed recklessly' (how does one hang onto resurrection when living in a dark cave unless one is reckless in one's belief!) These are the people whose shoulders I stand- every time I climb the pulpit to continue to tell the story. What a privilege it is to be a participant in this story. And how especially privileged I am to actually make a good living by doing it! Today there are no Christians left in Cappadocia, yet the story is being told in those ancient caves where thousands still come. God's story even in volcanic rock will not return void. Which is also a reason I left encouraged- if the Holy Spirit could keep and spread the story via volcanic rock I am confident She will continue this story among 'strangers scattered' throughout the often difficult topography of Lawndale. Just another reason WHY WE ARE HERE! Mark Lipscomb, true to his ability to get to the heart of things, asked me a penetrating question before I left Chicago: 'What do YOU want out of this sabbatical? Forget about Lilly reports, forget about producing something, forget about that other people think this is some junket trip, even forget about what the church may expect, WHAT DO YOU WANT?' His question, as I was frantically trying to finish everything so I could leave, caught me by surprise. WHAT WAS I DOING going there? The answer came, as I sat on the plane, from my mentor Eugene once again. I wanted to 'hear from God'-not sure what I wanted to hear...all I knew is that I wanted to hear. But when God is the subject I am wired to either become very cautious, afraid to make a mistake & trying so hard to get it just right (a good theologian who wants to THINK RIGHT) or I quickly take whatever words I think are said and turn it into a obsessive ethical moralism (a good person who wants to ACT RIGHT.) Peterson, using St. John's Revelation, points beyond these two options. As Eugene writes, 'John is not trying to get us to think more accurately or to train us into better behavior- but TO GET US TO BELIEVE MORE RECKLESSLY & BEHAVE MORE PLAYFULLY.' Wow! That's it! 'Faith-recklessness & Hope-playfulness'- certainly a stretch for a pietistic Calvinist! 'Believing Recklessly & Behaving Playfully' has become our mantra this sabbatical. And what may that look like? While Istanbul was a blur of 17 million Muslims talking Turkish and we were just recovering from being squeezed in a packed plane for 13 hours, we still were able to press on, with the help of guides, to take in the mosques & begin to expand our appreciation of Islam's religion, history, and culture. Still that same evening we attended a crazy Turkish women's basketball playoff game to watch Cappie Pondexter play. As I remind her that I used to go 1 on 1 with her in the 6th grade! After the game we met Cappie coming out of the locker room as fans and people pressed in to greet the players. As we greeted Cappie a fan stepped up to try to get her picture- we pulled back to allow the fan in- Cappie stepped forward and spoke directly to the fan, 'Excuse me, I'm visiting with my family!' Family? In Turkey, where the call to pray is issued 5xs per day. The next night after another full day of mosque's and Sultan summer palaces, we waited at her hotel as Cappie finished practice. After about 20 years it was a little awkward but with the help of conversation, quesadillas, beer, ice cream & cappuccino’s re-acquaintance was achieved. The taxi came for us and as we said our good byes, 'family' revisited my mind, as I hugged Cappie & told her 'she also was one of my daughters.' What do I want out of this sabbatical? God- recklessly & playfully. And it was beginning! What are we doing here? Answer #1
As Kathie closed the door in the darkness to exit our rental car, which was stopped at an open air grocery store, to ask for directions from a woman who could not speak English, but at 10:30pm was a 'live person' to talk to, I repeated what has become our favorite question for this trip, 'What are we doing here?' The grocery store employee directed Kath to a dark entry way across the street. In the city of Chania with over 60k people, we somehow aimlessly landed in front of this store. Wow! Kathie was absorbed into the darkness for what seemed to be far too long 'what was happening?' Finally she came running back with a woman, who indicated that we needed to follow her car. “I was somewhat frightened in there. I did not know where I was and the room was filled with about 15 Arab men who wanted to know who I was.” Kath indicated to me as we followed. We met John, a local, at the hotel and he explained we would be staying in his apartments. “Isn't the hotel a better place to stay?” I asked. “No, the hotel is filled with Syrians- Lots of young people all over the place- Not good place to stay”, John answered in his broken English. I took him at his word. John took us up an elevator that barely held all three of us to the 3rd floor to 1 bedroom apartment with a balcony from which I could hear the Mediterranean sea's surf. 'This is a dive!” Kath said anxiously as she killed a silverfish after John left. “A dive? Are you crazy, we have an apartment with an outdoor balcony on the Mediterranean for 5 days at 1/2 the cost!” I responded. We got a great night of sleep listening to the waves. After an enjoyable coffee time together and an overwhelming realization that we had landed 'a divine dive', we took a walk down to connect with John at the hotel. The lobby area was full of dark haired young, old, women, & men hanging out. John came and we had to step outside to even hear each other. 'I see this is why you put us in the quiet apartments.' I said. “Yes, no good here. Syrians here, 3, 4, 5 days, don't know..... No one will take them. They are Muslims running from the war.” I looked and saw a mass of people whose faces seemed to also ask, 'what are we doing here?' This begins a series of updates from Pastor Wolff while on his sabbatical. Check back for frequent highlights.
4.24.14 Kathie & I are sitting in Amsterdam with a delayed connection to Istanbul. Our flight last night in economy, reminded us why Ed Williams Jr. told us to ask for an upgrade, which we did & were denied. Instead we were packed in like being smashed into an 'el' train for 7hrs. Pleased to get off we ate delicious omelets at a Dutch kitchen. It was a great breakfast, but we were surprised to discover it cost us $40....but Kathie reminds me someone else is paying for it. We'll see how long they continue to pay? We are looking to get jammed onto a small full plane to Istanbul. Glad we ate! I have been wearing my 'priest collar.' I tend to get better respect, but forget what I am wearing. A person encountered me in the airport unexpectedly and asked if I was headed to Rome for the papal delegation. 'What' I said. No I am headed to Turkey! 'Oh, thought you'd be going to Rome!' Slow to get it, I explained I was Protestant but loved the pope. Looks like we are boarding..... lost our boarding passes...but recovered new ones with the attendant...think my collar may have assisted. I'll take whatever 'helps' I can get! Hopefully our bags make it to Istanbul! We will see what awaits us there! 4.25.14. WHAT A FIRST DAY! Our Turkish guide Funda showed up to get us at 9;30 this morning. What was peculiar is that she led us to a mini bus that seats 25 people and WE WERE IT! Topki Palace where the sultans ruled since conquering by the Ottomans in about 1000 ad. The sultans ruled in opulence and also were noted for their collection of women. We spent time at the Hippo Dome where the Romans held races and contests. There we saw a pillar taken from Egypt that dates back to the Time of Moses and the Israelites. From there we visited the BLUE MOSQUE and were impressed with the Muslims dedication to prayer. Then we visited the Hagia Sophia- that was originally built as a church and then the sultans transformed it to a mosque- but the Christian icons still remain. We learned much history. THEN THINGS GOT QUITE FACSINATING & out of our control, after we said good bye to our tour guide things started to happen. Our guide took us to a Turkish rug store. Well, after Turkish coffee, tea and wine together we walked out buying four Turkish rugs...to be shipped back to the states ..... If we spend money like that everyday we will spend over $250k for this trip....Lilly did not include rugs in the budget! Our guide/driver dropped us off at the arena where Cappie Pondexter was playing in the first game of the Turkish women’s finals. We were treated to VIP seating. I promptly went downstairs to see what benefits that may entitle me to..... I found some well-dressed businessman who where helping themselves to food and snacks and tried to fit in with my collar and white self. It worked out ...I got bottles of water, hot dogs, chips....and made my way back to the seats with every intention of coming back to fill up again. Which at half-time I tried, only this time to be stopped by security who said I was not a business man! The game was exciting and LOUD. Turks scream when the opposing team has the ball much like football fans do to the opposition when the other team has the ball. Crazy. Cappie's team lost....by a nail biter so they must now win the next 3 out of 4 games. We sat providentially by a young man named Ed...who was friends with Cappie's roommate Angel. Turned out he led us to where Cappie comes out side and we could talk and greet each other. Tomorrow is another day of touring but we hope to go to the hotel and have dinner with Cappie. A few weeks ago, I was privileged to speak at the homegoing service of another great soldier in the Lord’s force, Venus Gibson. She was not only a parent at Chicago West Side Christian School, but along with her mother, Betty served thousands of school lunches to CWSCS students. As pastor of the church and school I wanted her services and the presence of the many students from the school recognized. In 35 years of ministry, never did I have such difficulty in fulfilling my mission. But as Peterson likes to say, “every step an arrival.”
As guests in this neighboring church, we sat in the pews near the middle of the large sanctuary. I sat chatting with my deacon, Maurice Campbell, who reflected that he was so thankful he had visited Venus in her last days. I glanced at the printed program, saw my name under ‘Remarks- 2 minutes please’. I fully expected the minister, who was calling the service to order, would invite all the ministers in the house to come and sit with him behind the pulpit. I waited – no invitation was given. A little strange especially in light of the fact that Jasmine, a niece, had made it clear the family wanted me to be on the program. After an Old Testament and New Testament reading, a selection of Heaven is my Home from the choir, and Sister Powel’s acknowledgements of cards and telegrams, the time for 2 minute remarks arrived. What I failed to take notice of, or more likely thought a typo, was the presence of a slash between my name and Sister Jasmine’s. As Sister Jasmine completed her reading, Maurice poked me, ‘You better get up there’. ‘No, I’ll wait to be called.’ The only call that came was for Sister Gloria to bring a musical selection. As Gloria and her cousin sang a duet and the choir chimed in, I made my way to the front bench and sat with the nurses all dressed in white. I leaned over to one of them, ‘Who do I speak to, to get on the program?’. She pointed to the pastor sitting behind the pulpit. I sat and waited, thinking ‘they must of overlooked my name, I’ll be called next’. Then there was another selection from the choir. So I thought, ‘I’ll go up to the pastor while the choir is singing and ask when I can get on the program’. As I climbed the steps that reached the top of the platform, an attendant rose out of his chair and stood at the top step stopping me. I tried to politely move past him in tight quarters and I felt something I had not felt since my days on the basketball court, a ‘chest-butt’. The deacon gave me a chest butt in front of the entire audience. I was not getting past him. As I explained who I was and that I was on the program, he pointed at his note scribbled bulletin and tried to tell me above the volume of the choir directly behind him that for whatever reason I was not getting up there. I felt rather exposed and embarrassed and wanted so much to get off those steps, the audience may have been listening to the choir but they were looking at this Black man stopping this White man from getting to the pastor. ‘Can we talk somewhere else than up here?’ I tried to reason with him. He guided me to a door immediately off the stage. ‘I am Pastor Wolff from Chicago West Side Christian School, I would still like to say something.’ ‘We’ve been given strict instructions not to let anyone else speak who is not on the program.’ ‘But I am on the program-see right there.’ The deacon looked at his program, as now 2 more deacons were running from the back hallway to try to reconcile what was quickly becoming an uncomfortable situation. ‘There is a slash in front of your name.’ ‘I see that- but that is my name’. ‘The slash means either/or….either Jasmine talks OR you not both.’ The door to the stage opened again and this time it was Betty, Venus’ mother. ‘This is Pastor Wolff and HE IS ON THE PROGRAM, LET HIM SPEAK!’ The newly arrived deacons were frantically trying to find a ‘Barabbas.’ ‘Who is this ‘Raven Clay’….is he even here?’ They were pointing to the name of a soloist on the program. ‘No he’s not here, let the Pastor speak!’ “I have told you these things so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete.” I shared Jesus’ words with the saints gathered to mourn the life of one who brought so much joy to their lives. I told Venus’ daughter Myracle not to let NO ONE take that Joy from her. As I stood waiting for the pastors, family, and friends to proceed out, several thanked me for the words I brought. The deacon who threw the block, shook my hand sheepishly and said, ‘I’m sorry, if I had known you were with Coach Gordon I would of let you up there!’ I laughed thinking, of course every white person in Lawndale is with Coach! After the funeral I got the view from those sitting in the audience. Deacon Campbell started in as we walked to the car, ‘What happened up there? Ms. Perry and I thought it might be a racial thing, we were ready to come up there!’ Back at the school, Mary Post, a school administrator, laughed and said, ‘All I know is I saw 3 people go through that side door, the deacon, you, and Ms. Betty and only 2 came back out, the deacon was gone!’ I made one last visit that afternoon, as I wanted to see Doc before he headed to Mississippi for Thanksgiving. As I went to greet him and told him I had seen his grandkids at the funeral I had just attended. Doc laughed and blurted out, ‘I know--- I heard you took the pulpit gangster style! Join us in celebrating the things that GOD is doing at Lawndale!
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