Comedian Jim Gaffiganlikes a lot of the same thing I do:
• Sleep
• Hammocks
• Breakfast in Bed (because it combines sleeping and eating)
• Bacon
• Talking about funny things the whole family can enjoy together
But, unlike Jim, I really enjoy camping.
It’s not because it’s comfortable. Jim’s right–it’s hardly that.
No, I like camping because I can get to seem like I’m getting out of my neighborhood for a legit reason instead of looking like I’m trying to run away. Camping helps me not feel guilty about about leaving to live somewhere else for a while.
Every single time, 3-4 days of camping is preceded by spending a 3-4 days of packing, just so I can go to another location and start feeling too hot, too cold, bug bites, a continual film of filth on my entire body, the wrenching pain of back spasms from the popup camper mattress I like to call “The Devastator”, and all towels feeling damp no matter what, I still have to talk myself into coming home again. (Then it’s 1-2 days of cleaning things, washing clothes, and unpacking.)
Nevertheless, Jim is correct, camping, as a concept where you pay actual money to leave your home and feel less comfortable, is admittedly quite odd.
Jim’s reflections on this and the other topics in this video made me laugh out loud. Enjoy!
Here’s my first video of my STORY 2012 adventure in Chicago: packing.
It’s an introduction and a few packing tips I’ve picked up along the way. (Perhaps the only usable skill I gained as a kid from a divorced home. Thanks mom and dad!)
Most videos from my journey this week will go straight to the special youtube channel (for this and other adventures), and not be posted here on the blog. So, after today get the latest news and adventure in video form when you gohere.
I’ll post updates and include videos and photos on my twitter and Facebook outlets.
Tomorrow marks my first day of teaching a 12 week stint on Spiritual Formation. I’m relating the journey of faith with and toward God to a scenic road trip, like Route 66.
Early on, Route 66 was well-traveled as people moved westward for a better life. Decades later, it became a common vacation expedition for families in the 1950s and 60s. What is it now? It’s not any of that.
The huge Interstate Highway system made traveling West smooth, faster, and more direct. Many of the towns with roadside attractions, and the windy roads from Chicago to Santa Monica were all but abandon. Some sections remain, and for the nostalgic traveler or the lovers of adventure on open the road, no other route is more alluring than, the Mother Road–the famous Route 66. It’s the stuff of legends.
For those of you who can’t come on join us, in person, here’s a “postcard” from the first leg of the trip.
Before we set off on a genuine road trip, we usually get an idea of where we’re going, and who we’re going with. We might venture off the map, and we’ll certainly have unexpected happenings along the way. We can become anxious over what lies ahead, out of view; or we can keep optimistic, knowing that we trust our companions. We can adventure on, tackling whatever obstacles we need to. The truth is, our the destination shouldn’t overshadow our view or enjoyment of the journey. The journey is part of how we are trained for our destination. SO, here we go.
Here are 8 ways we learn during the Christian journey. Maybe you can think of some more.
Through the Holy Spirit
Through Scripture
In community
Spiritual guides/teachers
Through Sacraments
Through devotional practices
Through Christian History/Tradition
Which ones have helped you the most? Which ones have you left out the most?Thank you for sharing your ideas on this topic. Hop in, let’s go!
We don’t just have upon us a crisis of faith, but also a crisis of faithfulness.
We’ve been reviewing Francis Chan’s book Crazy Love. I encourage everyone to read it. It’ll do you good. Also, it makes an interesting and thought-provoking small group study, or Sunday School class.
"Crazy Love" by Francis Chan
This last lesson was on Risk and Faith. Chan asked everyone to do something in their regular life that requires faith. He asked that we abandon the typical planning we do to minimize our risk. We should do something others could think of as silly, and allow ourselves to live and act in a more vulnerable way. We shouldn’t rely in our stuff to satisfy us. We should live bigger lives.
Along the same lines, Rolf Potts leads this sort of recommended simpler type of lifestyle. He calls it vagabonding. (I found out about Rolf through the Tim Ferriss site. Thank you, Tim.)For Potts, a travel writer, his style is not just a method of travel, but a way of life. It’s unlike the American way of life, because it does not trust in stuff.
I’ve wondered if it’s the case that in America we seem to act like “in god we trust” refers to the money itself, or the things we can buy with it.
We do a lot to feel safe. We buy insurance to minimize various kind of threats. We buy things we feel sure will help us, or at least soothe us. What is the lasting consequence of this approach? A false sense of control? Feathering our pillow of self-sufficiency? Other things…
Rolf Potts takes the theme of traveling light to a whole new level, as he now begins hisNo Baggage Challenge: Traveling to 12 countries in 6 weeks—With NO baggage (not even a man purse/satchel). [His blog details his travels, and his packing techniques are also quite useful.]
The journey of faith is the same way. When we seek out the comfortable, and we travel heavy, by preparing (mentally or physically) for every potential event, challenge, or threat–something important gets left behind. Perspective for one thing. But what else?
In the life of faith, “taking nothing for the journey” means that one must trust in God’s provision (and hisway of providing), trust others, and build relationships. It’s not about what we’ve packed (prepared) for, it’s about the trip itself. It’s about being brave, and opening up to others, and the experience of not being weighted down (both literally and figuratively) by our presuppositions: What we think the trip should look like, and feel like.
You don’t like bumps, you say? Sorry, it’s bumpy. You just might have been insulating yourself. For some perspective… Think: padded cell.
The spiritual journey (journey of faith) is undertaken so optimal preparedness is removed as an option: It’s a method of living, not to be comfortable, but to survive, live, and eventually thrive, where you are, as you are. You come as you are. When the going gets tough–and it will–you stay. [The only thing you “plan on” is love and loyalty.] You work it out. You don’t let yourself have but that choice. You live has though you don’t have a chance/option to flee–like we are too often ready to do. We trust others, and God with abandon, despite the risks, or pain that may/will come.
Why? Because it is the surest way to growth, more rewarding experiences, and a sense of being in a Story bigger than yourself and your self interests. In spending ourselves, we gain our lives.
When we take a risk to help or love (without examining the our potential losses, and assessing all the personal risks) we live by and in faith, not by sight.
[Now, realize, I’m not talking about a life of folly, or veritable reckless behavior. I’m talking about being okay with discomfort, and sacrificing the known and manageable, for something greater at stake.]
What could that look like for you? Please-Leave your ideas.
Maybe giving away the extra car to someone who needs it? Opening up your home for someone else to live in? Inviting a family to your home for supper once a week? Using a paycheck to buy someone groceries?
What kind of faith will you live by?
In this sense, a little pain goes a long way. Soon, our sights move away from ourselves in pursing selfless faithfulness.
Comedian Jim Gaffigan likes a lot of the same thing I do:
