Across the past several months I have observed politicians and pundits prognosticate regarding the health and stability of our country. Some look backward, assessing causes and effects; some look forward, projecting outcomes and rebounds. We would all agree that these economic times have caused us to step back and consider our own place in all of this and the promise of 2010 and beyond.
I have been President of NNU for 20 months. During this brief span, my colleagues and I have also looked back and looked forward at the effect of these times. I want to take a moment to provide some insight and perspective on the health, position and promise of NNU—captured in three verbs.
To Thrive—I have had the opportunity to know NNU’s people and programs, and I am so pleased that in God’s providence I have come to serve at a place that is thriving! Over these last months, NNU has and continues to enjoy its largest enrollment in the school’s history, enrolling nearly 2,000 degree-seeking students. These young men and women have joined us to participate in a wide assortment of high-caliber academic programs delivered by teacher-scholars who are adept at their craft. This is possible because the University is fiscally sound. NNU enjoys cash reserves that are a testament to the generous heart of people who have invested in the long-term vitality of the University. NNU is thriving!
To Commit—new presidents have the responsibility of guiding the university forward. I have had the privilege of reminding each of us of our covenant commitments. The University is committed to placing Jesus Christ at the center of who we are and all we do. Accordingly, we have heightened our emphasis on spiritual formation and servant leadership. Across the campus and across our curriculum, we seek to wed faith and reason; this is who we are, what we commit to be. We have also taken steps to review our internal effectiveness and efficiencies. We know we are called to be effective stewards of what has been entrusted to the university. Most importantly, we have made commitments to our current and incoming students. Despite global downturns in investments, we have reapportioned budgets and funds in order to make a record number of scholarships and grants available. NNU is committed!
To Reach—I have been engaged in higher education for over three decades. In that time I have come to observe that individuals and institutions that reach forward and look up, prosper. The University is looking toward its centennial in 2013 and is positioned to cope with the present and invest in the future. Consequently, NNU continues to expand. We are enjoying our new Thomas Family Health & Science Center and laying plans for future expansion. We have added to our majors a degree in engineering to position ourselves to prepare for jobs that don’t yet exist. Concurrent with this, we seek to make an NNU education an accessible investment. I believe an NNU education is a value-rich experience, that we work to make accessible to as many as would join us in investing in the development of the whole person—heart, soul, mind and strength. For this is what we truly reach for—a life lived in relationship with and service to Jesus Christ. NNU reaches for Him!
If you’d like to contribute to this conversation, please comment on this post or email president[at]nnu.edu. May 2010 be a year in which you sense God’s presence, guidance and blessings.
Have you ever had an “Eli moment”? You remember the scene from the life of Samuel? The young boy lived in the temple. His mother, Hannah, had given her son to God’s service. He did the bidding of Eli the priest.
The account of First Samuel tells us that the boy Samuel was growing in stature and favor with God and with man. He was becoming an adolescent who sought God.
Then one night, as Samuel lay sleeping. He heard someone call his name, “Samuel”. Thinking it was Eli, he called out “Here I am,” ready to serve his master. However, Eli told him he hadn’t called Samuel. Go back to sleep. A voice calls Samuel’s name a second time, again, the response to Eli, again, it wasn’t me.
Yet the wise priest realizes, perhaps another is calling the boy. Eli instructs Samuel to determine if the voice calling Samuel’s name is the voice of the Lord.
A third time, the voice calls, “Samuel”. This time the boy answers, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”
Samuel went from confused to called. From wondering who was calling to placing himself in obedient readiness to the call of His Lord.
Several weeks ago, on the campus of NNU, young people, about the age of Samuel gathered for THE CALL. The Call is an event sponsored by NNU and Nazarene Youth International that seeks to come alongside young men and women who are seeking to determine who is calling them, and to what.
Students at The Call Conference
They are in the midst of their Eli moment. Seeking to sort out what God would have them be and do with their lives. The Call is designed to act like Eli, to help young people who sense a certain call of God upon them. Would God want me to serve him as my life’s vocation? Shall I prepare for this by pursuing a call to full-time ministry? Can I serve God best in this capacity or would He have me serve Him in some other role than pastoral ministry?
Sorting out voices is no small thing. It wasn’t for Samuel; it isn’t for these committed young people. We hear the voices of our parents, our pastor, our teacher, our favorite grandparent, our youth pastor, all calling our name. And we wonder, “Is this of the Lord?” The Call is an opportunity to gather and pray and listen and discern who is calling.
In another sense we all have Eli moments. Times in our lives when we seek to know what God would have us do and become. College is filled with “Eli moments”. Young people seeking to know the will of God for their lives. All these young people, so full of promise and passion for life. Seeking to discern God’s call upon their lives.
We have the privilege and responsibility, as the faculty of NNU, to stand alongside these young people and give guidance and provide preparation for life’s journey. Some students go through college with great clarity of purpose. Many, many more wrestle with the fact that a particular job doesn’t seem to be what should guide all of life’s choices. We stand to help them learn the wisdom of being broadly educated, able to solve the problems of life and work, all the while seeking to model lives lived in relationship with God.
Then, in the ripe times, the Eli moment times, we have the privilege of helping lead to an understanding of how best to answer God’s call to life’s opportunities and challenges. This sacred experience is different for every student, yet there is a thread of service that is woven through the spirit of NNU, our faculty and our students. A spirit of those called to serve God in any and all capacities. This spirit of obedience and eagerness to seek and serve Him is captured in the words of Frederick Buechner, in writing on work and vocation when he says, “the place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
May God bless all those who listen, hear and answer.
The picture above this journal entry reminds me of a line in a song. Long ago, I used to have the privilege of conducting Handel’s Messiah. It’s nice work if you can get it. Perhaps you have had the opportunity to sing in a presentation of Messiah. Or at the very least, I hope you enjoy hearing its beautiful Baroque tones.
The picture reminds me of a line in the most famous segment of Handel’s Messiah, “The Hallelujah Chorus”. The lyric is taken from Revelations, Chapter 11, verse 15. Handel directs the orchestra and singers to softly perform in low tones the words, “the kingdom of this world [pause for dramatic effect]… is become”, and then with a roar of power and great contrast singers and orchestra are instructed to leap up an octave, play loudly, and proclaim, “the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ”. The statement doesn’t end there, Handel crafts melodic lines that gather momentum and intensity with the words, “and He shall reign forever and ever!”
Two kingdoms are represented in this picture. The Capitol of the State of Idaho. The manger. The kingdom of this world. The Kingdom of Our Lord and of His Christ.
There they were, living on this earth, doing their fallen, human best to make things work. Then it was Caesar Augustus and Pilate, now we have our own governors and magistrates. But it’s still the same. Around the globe, people doing their best, on their own to make things work in this fallen world.
And then…something happened, something completely outside of Rome’s strategic plan or Jerusalem’s power hungry hopes. A baby is born, down the road from the center of human authority, amidst dust and damp straw, infant tones. Into “the kingdom of this world” comes one beyond our imagining, power humbly wrapped in love. In His coming everything changes. The kingdom of this world becomes, the Kingdom of Our Lord, and of His Christ. Jesus, the Messiah, has come.
Either this is the new arch of history or a ridiculous myth or nice fable to share and celebrate. I believe, we at Northwest Nazarene University believe, it is the coming of God into His world. Word became flesh. Dwelling among us.
I believe that when Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy Kingdom come…” He was calling us to remember that He is the answer to this prayer. He has come and in His coming His Kingdom has been established. Yet it is not fully here. He has come. He will come. In between, He calls upon us to continue working on His behalf, to incarnate Him and in so doing to be His Kingdom agents, His Kingdom citizens.
That is what motivates us as a university. To continually discover where people are living in a lowly state and to go to them and gloriously proclaim that “the Kingdom of Our Lord and of His Christ” has arrived. We, and the world, will never be the same.
As you celebrate this Christmas, I hope and pray you will join me and the NNU community in remembering that He who came will come again. And until He does, He calls upon you and me to learn ways to sing His song of redemption, peace and good will.
He gave. At the heart of what we call Christmas is God giving. Not the gift of something, but someone. God, the One who spoke worlds into being, now gives a gift that reveals, reconciles and redeems. He gives Himself. World-creating word becomes human flesh and lives among us. His self-revealing gift of Himself.
I don’t claim to know the theological intricacies of the incarnation. But I know about being a father, receiving a child into the world and then participating in giving that child to the world.
Me, with the two children I had the privelege of receiving and giving.
That is, in effect, what happens with parents and children (that’s a photo of me, with the two children I had the privilege of receiving and giving). We are presented with this gift, this child. We receive the child into our midst, as if it is ours, and yet, in just a few short days, we come to realize that though this is our child it is “other”. The gift-child—fragile and vulnerable—with needs and cares quickly displays its tendency to choose and grow, express and become.
We make choices for the child, but we also guide the child in learning how to make its own choices. Choices for the child’s good. Choices that align with what we value and hold dear, yet always the knowledge that this child of mine, is learning to choose, and act, and be.
I know that it’s somehow silly to draw comparisons between heavenly Father and earthly parent, to say nothing of looking at Christmas and thinking of college. Yet that’s how I’m wired, so here I go.
God gave. We give. All that God was and had He revealed and gave to His Son. Likewise, we who parent, give and display ourselves for our children to see and become. And then, probably for reasons different than God’s, we end up at the same place God and His Son ended up, that time, that junction, when that which was gift-received must have the privilege and responsibility of choosing to leave. To become gift-given.
Philippians Chapter Two beautifully captures the wonder of the Jesus Child’s choice, leaving His place with the Father, setting aside His place of privilege and coming to fulfill His destiny. And there’s us, as we who have the privilege of being parents reflect upon the wonder of Christmas, may we, in a few moments of our time reflect upon how we too must give away our children. Allow them to make choices of destiny and eternal purpose.
May we look to the heavenly Father and learn from His loving, vulnerable example, that for our children to become fully alive we must learn the loving art of giving them away to fully become themselves.
Alumni Chapels have an interesting place in the life of the university. They are not the most popular chapel in the eyes of the students. Someone has invaded their campus. Someone is sitting in their chapel seat. Alumni.
Yet, despite the invasion of the institution’s routine, Alumni Chapel is incredibly important. It is important because it provides us an opportunity to highlight the lives and accomplishments of our own. We honor people who have been our students, who are now our graduates, our alumni. In effect, it affords us the opportunity to take our measure.
In certain respects Northwest Nazarene University is unique. It is a place where the norms of success, accomplishment and notoriety are different than those of the world. NNU professes and teaches ways of knowing and being counter to the trends and conventions of our materialistic, monochromatic world of self-centered values.
Consequently, to attend the NNU Alumni Chapel is to expect something different. Remarkable. I wasn’t disappointed. As I sat in the NNU Alumni Chapel I marveled at the lives of those being honored. I was astonished by the humility, the imagination, the commitment and zest for life displayed by each of the award recipients. These people are changing the world; not just their world, the world.
Jennifer, Christine, Rand and Judy are rescuing children from slavery and prostitution, teaching a country to care for its sick and frail, healing the spirits of those damaged by life, bringing beauty and elegance to places otherwise barren and dreary.
In celebrating these few, we are asking; is what we stand for, what we teach, transferring, transforming? We are checking our posture. How have those we sought to shape taken shape?
The results are truly remarkable. I was genuinely humbled by these good people and the lives they are leading. As I listened to them, I was once again struck by the fact that NNU is a place where success is measured in service. But don’t just take my word for it; take their word for it.
Watch the following NNU-Tube clips, short interviews with some of the honorees; I hope you are as gratified, as I was, by what you hear. I am so very proud of them and the hope, help and love they provide. I’m glad to call them Alumni of NNU. And I am proud of the place and the people that had a part in shaping them for their life’s calling.
I like stories. I particularly like stories that are true. Stories that are real. As a college president I am surrounded by stories. Each student is a story; a series of subjects and objects, nouns and verbs, active voice and passive voice. Each student’s life is a plot in process, a tale of undetermined outcome and proportion.
Each student’s story has many characters. The cast of each plot is somewhat predictable, moms and dads, brothers and sisters, folks back home who packed up hope and sent it off to college in the person of our hero.
Upon arrival at college new characters emerge. Friends, mentors, those who provide inspiration, those who provide challenges in the story’s plot, those who offer resolution.
As I watch these stories unfold, I have the privilege of being aware of unseen characters in these narratives. There are unseen heroes at NNU. There are people who have stepped forward and made generous gifts, gifts that make college possible.
I want to invite you to click on this link and listen to student stories. I expect great things from these young people telling their stories. But the things I expect of them, have been made possible by individuals whose gifts make probable what was thought improbable, make available what was out of reach, provide pages upon which the story of a life of possibility and promise can be written.
Listen to our student stories. Remember the generosity of unseen heroes.
Rather than write a journal entry, I thought I’d project a journal entry. Specifically a journalcast. Not too long ago I gave a speech; some would say a message. It was a speech about things that I consider to be at the heart of what I believe and at the heart of what I think the university I serve is to be.
The title of the address is, “In, Not Of”; in it I explore what it means to teach, learn and live in two worlds. My thoughts come from reflecting upon Jesus’ prayer in John, Chapter 17. I hope you have the time to watch and listen (it was presented at the NNU Baccalaureate). Thanks for listening and thinking about His call, His design for us.
From the Baccalaureate Ceremony, May 2009.
Have you ever experienced a zip line? This weekend, I had the opportunity to zip. I recommend it. Great fun, plus you get to dress up in the zip costume, complete with harness, helmet and the ever-important carabineer.
I tried to reduce the various elements of the zip into a few basic components. Here’s my list—Zip Liners—Decide, Prepare, Climb, Leap, Trust, Sail, Enjoy. At the risk of making too many cheesy connections, I think the elements of zip can be analogous to the leap we make when we leave home for college.
First, you have to choose to zip—you decide. This is a conscious decision, to do something you’re not accustomed to doing. You decide to take a chance, a calculated risk, that the experience will stretch you, test you. Next, you prepare. That’s right, prepare. I was ready to get zippy, but they wanted me to learn the basics, to understand the equipment, test it, rely on it. In a sense my zipologist helped me understand what to expect and how to cope with what lay ahead.
After that is was time to climb. You heard me right, climb. Why am I climbing, we’re already looking at 900 feet of cable stretched across a canyon? Well, according to the instructor, the higher up we begin the leap, the more speed we’ll achieve and the more fun we’ll have. Frankly, I hadn’t taken the climb into account. I’ve seen pictures of zip line installations where you walk onto this lovely ramp and zip. Take a look. This zip required a climb. Straight up, don’t look down, grab the pegs, one step at a time climb (see photo of me nestled in the pine limbs).
With the climb complete you reach a platform up in the tree (by the way, who builds these things?). Now the moment you came for—the leap. Funny word, leap. It’s a faith word isn’t it? It’s linked directly to the next zip-word—trust. You have to be willing to trust (the instructors, the equipment, the advice, the 900 feet of cable). If you can’t trust, in spite of what certain signals your brain is sending you, you can’t leap and zip. Will you muster up the courage, curiosity and hope you brought to the experience and step off the platform and leap into the experience?
I took the step into the air.
I was now sailing, suspended over a canyon, gaining speed and feeling as if I was flying. Sailing in a way only we zippys understand. Hopefully you have come to trust the components of the experience enough to enjoy the fact that you are sailing. You are doing something because of the choices, the preparation, the trust and courage that was necessary to zip. What fun! Can I zip some more? Assume the flying position? Zip backwards?
You can draw the lines of metaphor conclusion, from zip line to college leap. I think they’re real. The worthwhile things in life require a sense of adventure, a preferably well-credentialed guide, an element of trust in yourself and the place and people where you’ve chosen to attend college (or zip).
In the midst of all this, there’s the climb. Maybe high school was a climb. Maybe packing up and saying goodbye was the climb. Either way, that may be the hardest part. To reach the point where you’re ready to leap, you have to trust in all that’s been invested in you to this point and step off from what you know and trust that those who have gone before will now show you the way to sail.
If you’re coming my way, to NNU, I want you to know that we have been preparing for your arrival. We have studied and reflected and built and crafted; we have set up a wonderful experience for you. It involves hard work, preparation and the faith required for real adventure. We don’t know where all of this will lead for you, but we invite you to participate in the joy of learning to sail at altitudes and in places you have yet to soar. We can’t leap for you, or trust for you, but we wholeheartedly pledge to be alongside you to guide you, to put our hope and trust and faith in you. We want you to soar in ways beyond your imagining. And I believe that together, with you and with God, we will do just that.
I haven’t written in this journal for a couple of weeks. Been traveling. Traveling some more. Interesting places—Alaska, Montana, Orlando, Breckenridge and Washington, DC. In fact, I’m writing this on the flight from D.C. back to Boise.
Our nation’s capitol is an interesting place. I find justifiable pride and inspiration in the many people and places I encounter there. There, people past and present, have committed their lives to serve the greater good. There, places symbolizing the sacrifice and ideals that constitute the American story, populate the DC skyline. (Check out the iPhone photo of me in front of the capitol.)
D.C.’s architecture gives testament to our national values. Carved into the various buildings and displays are words and phrases Americans hold dear—justice, equality, under the law, liberty, freedom. Etched in stone, our belief in the gift of freedom. We list it as one of our inalienable rights. Our liberty.
This country, this democratic experiment in which we live, is an amalgam of the many choices we have the privilege of making as the result of our freedom. As free citizens we exercise choice and select our governmental leaders, our choice of vocation, our ability to own land, the friends we choose, the very lives we lead. Washington, D.C. exists to protect and provide our freedoms, to see to it that we have the right to make choices. Linger in the hallways of Congress long enough and you’ll hear someone advocating for their rights—their cause, their way, their view, their choice.
We have many choices in this country and that’s a very good thing.
But I’ve been thinking about all those choices, about people’s expressions of self and their rights. And I’ve come to the conclusion, that at the most fundamental level of being we have one choice. We are free to make that one choice. All other rights and choices pale in comparison and importance. Here it is.
We are free to choose God or to reject God. To seek God or to seek to be gods. All life hinges upon this one primary choice. This one God-given freedom.
He gifts us with choice and invites us to choose Him. By His design, what we choose, who we choose, shapes all of life. Choose Him and live in the context of life as He intends for it to be lived. Choose self, or things, and life is broken, we become victims of our own godless choice.
My trip to DC heightened my awareness of this fact—the free exercise of this fundamental choice. It also underscored the privilege I have to serve at Northwest Nazarene University—where an entire university has made a choice too!
We choose to see everything we do and are through the lens of one choice. We choose to be a Christ-centered university. We believe that the world in which we live is structured and ordered by God. Therefore, the subjects we study, the people who work here, the manner in which we design and devise our work, the way we treat and care for one another, all fall under the Lordship of Jesus Christ, the One we choose to follow.
Consequently, NNU is a thoroughly exciting place to be. Everyone who teaches and serves here has chosen to be at a place that makes all of its choices in the light of the God-choice. We don’t choose to be a place that seeks to invent reality out of our individual likes and dislikes, self-crafted belief systems and corporate opinions. We choose to seek and follow God, to be like His Son Jesus, enabled, through the presence of His Holy Spirit, to fulfill our God-designed destiny. This is who we are. This is who we choose to be.
The entire university is ordered in and around this one choice—to be His! I hope you are making this choice too. And for those of you who want to live within the way, the truth and the life that He intends for us to choose, come here. Join us. Choose to live in His way with us!
Sometimes the deepest insights are found in the simplest scenes. That was the case for me in recent weeks. My life lesson was learned in a corner of my backyard. We’re relatively new to this house, so we didn’t know our backyard is inhabited by two robins, male and female.
Over the course of the past six weeks we’ve watched life unfold.
Beginning Week One—the two birds begin gathering resources—many trips and much work, twigs and straw are gathered, a nest emerges.
Weeks Two, Three, Four—four blue eggs appear in the newly formed nest; then over three weeks they take turns, male and female are now mother and father, alternating shifts, luring away potential danger, roosting, warming.
Weeks Five, Six—life has happened. The planning, building, guarding and waiting are replaced by the constant shuttling of mom and dad bringing fresh food gathered from the spring lawn (see food photo).
End Week Six—no baby birds, an empty nest. Mom and dad robin, once again just female and male, perched in our yard, fending for themselves (see empty nest photo).
As I watched the birds care for their young, I witnessed subtle changes in their behavior after the eggs hatched. Initially they hovered. Provided warmth and protection to these bare, helpless bodies. Soon necks to the sky waiting for the next meal. Tufts of down were replaced by tiny feathers. Then the stretching began.
As the four chicks gained in size they took turns exercising. They’d trade places in the nest, come out to the edge, stretch their half-formed wings, peek over the edge, flap and cheep and then retreat to the hollow of the nest.
As the days progressed, I wondered when it would be time to leave. In fact I noticed that mom and dad robin spent less time around the nest. Part of that was practical; there wasn’t as much room now that their chicks had grown. But I think they stayed back to give them time and space to exercise, to reach, to look over the edge with wings outstretched.
I didn’t see them leave. I came home one day and they were gone. I’ve wondered what that scene was like. Did all four chicks fly away at once? Did some leave without coaxing? Did others need a push out of the nest? Did they need lessons in flight or did nature’s knowledge and their parent’s encouragement provide them the necessary faith to take that first leap, catch the wind and fly?
The lesson of my backyard, directs my mind and my prayers to moms and dads, sons and daughters. It’s uncanny how the rhythm of life for these birds and their young offspring is a compressed version of what’s going on in houses across the Northwest. All these years, preparing, caring, nurturing. Now it’s time for flight.
We casually call it “going to college”. But it’s so much more than that. Eager. Reluctant. Nudging. Expectant. All that effort and care—the preparing, the caring, the hovering, the testing, the years-long process of preparing them for flight. And now, it’s almost time. It’s a wonderful adventure, the flight to adulthood. Moms and dads have shared lessons of their flights, and now it’s their children’s turn.
A good number fly here, to NNU each fall. It’s a sight to behold. Some already soaring, others still stretching. We are poised to provide a place to land, to learn, to return in-between flights. I’ll see you all soon, and once again have the privilege of watching young people learn to fly!