The Long Awaited Conclusion

Well, here it is the long awaited end to the story. Now would all of you stop sending all those emails? You're crowding my inbox. Hehe...

“As If…

Security in My Place”

I earned my diploma and graduated from Azusa Pacific University in May of 2006. At the time, my wife was pregnant with our second child. We knew that the arrival of this baby would change things quite a bit for us, doubling the child-rearing responsibilities. The 3-11PM hours of my position would mean that Joy would need to care for our children all evening by herself. We took a look at our situation and found some of the factors leading towards a change for me. First, I wasn’t making a ton of money. It was significantly less than Joy was making at her job and we couldn’t make ends meet without her income. Besides, she enjoyed her job and was (and remains) very good at it. So it wasn’t like she was going to stop working to relieve some of the stress. Second, by pulling Joshua out of daycare, we could almost make ends meet without my paycheck. I was experiencing the difficulties mentioned previously, and this, coupled with the evening hours pointed pretty clearly to me quitting my job. So I offered my resignation effective two weeks after the birth of our daughter.

For a few months I was a stay-at-home dad, eventually securing a part-time security position at the Harvard School of Public Health so we could make ends meet. I would work 18 hours on the weekend, checking ID’s at the back entrance to the school. For a part-time job, it paid very well. Actually, it paid exactly what we needed. But after a few months of this it became a bit disheartening. After a while, I started to wonder what in the world I was doing. As I checked people’s ID’s as they entered the school, I really wondered if I’ll ever attain “my” goal. “I’m checking ID’s!!! I don’t need a M. ed. for this,” I often thought! In addition, one of the graduate students at HSPH had previously been one of the Resident Assistants that worked for us while I was a Resident Director at ENC. I always felt a bit awkward checking her ID.

On the other hand, I really liked the students, staff, and faculty at HSPH. When I started working there, I unfairly assumed that I’d be dealing with a lot of wicked smaht, snobby people. This couldn’t be further from the truth. The HSPH community is comprised of people whose collective goal is to rid the world of starvation and disease. Very few of the people graduating from the school leave and make a lot of money. Mostly it’s just the opposite. And a majority of them are doctors. There is also a high percentage of international students. In my experience, the international students are much less pretentious than the American students, and I’ve found the American students to be wonderful. So all in all, it is a great environment in which to work.

I don’t remember why, but my Joy and I decided that it would probably be appropriate for me to begin working full-time again. I spoke to my supervisor, and after a few weeks they were able to find me a couple more shifts to increase my hours. In time, I was promoted to a supervisor and moved to a newly created post at one of the apartment buildings for Harvard. I was now full-time, and making more money than any job I had previously held. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t been shopping for a new yacht, but I’m doing OK.

I was pleased to have a full-time, regular schedule, and a regular pay-check. But I remember feeling little satisfaction other than knowing I was helping to provide for my family. I focused a lot on the challenging parts of the job. To begin with, the post is in the basement of a residential hall for international students at the Harvard School of Public Health. I’m fortunate if I see 5 people during my shift. As a people person, this isn’t exactly ideal. My only contact with the residents of the building occurs from 7-8 AM as they hurry out the door for class. Other than that I’m totally alone. Nobody to talk to but God. It was then that I began to blog, but eventually we lost the internet. (Don’t even get me started.) I also read books, but found myself dozing off. That’s a no-no as a security guard. I began to question myself again. I wasn’t even checking ID’s anymore!

Eventually, I began to consider whether or not this was the lowest point in my career. I had a lot of time to reflect on that. It certainly felt like it. If I didn’t need a M. ed. to check ID’s, I was really over-qualified in a post that didn’t even do that! But as I said, I had a lot of time to reflect on my situation, and I had a lot of time to reflect on the call I thought I’d heard in my life several years back. I began to look at this time differently, and in some ways, I began to view this time as perhaps the most important point in my career – at least up until now. All of this time to reflect on my past and current situation, where I am and where I thought I wanted to be, forced me to consider one question. “What in the heck happened?” My answer – I may have hijacked God’s call on my life.

I didn’t do it on purpose, and it took me years to understand what I did, but if God called me to anything, I failed to realize that it was God’s call on my life, for His purpose. It was never my call. A small misunderstanding on my part makes all the difference in perspective. I don’t think I’m the first person to make this mistake.

In recent days I’ve been thinking about one of the heroes of the Old Testament, Joseph. It strikes me that there are some similarities between Joseph’s story and my own. God had used Joseph’s family for years, so it only seemed natural that God would use him in a similar manner. Joseph had heard God’s will for his life in a dream. I had heard God’s apparent call on my life from a friend. Joseph told, likely bragged about, his dream to his family. Likewise for me. Joseph ended up at the bottom of a well. I ended up in the basement as a security guard. Granted, Joseph’s situation was a bit more perilous than mine, but I can’t help but wonder if Joseph ended up at the bottom of the well and later in prison so God could teach him a lesson in humility. I wonder if that’s what it took for Joseph to truly surrender his life to God’s will. I wonder if that’s what it took for him to relinquish any sense of entitlement because of the family he came from or what he assumed was a call.

I wonder if Joseph ever stopped caring about that dream and began to think that he at some of the wrong mushrooms for dinner the night before his dream. I don’t know. The Bible doesn’t really say and nobody ever really told me. All I ever was taught was that Joseph stayed true to God. Somehow, I think there was more to his experiences than that. God wasn’t simply testing Joseph, he was teaching him a vital lesson. I wonder if God was saying “Hey, Joseph! I’ve called you, any success you have will be because I make it happen. You need to relax, young man.”

You see, today we always read the stories in the Bible with the benefit of hindsight. We can’t help it. In fact, that’s kind of how it’s supposed to be. We learn because of hindsight. It’s always so easy to look forward into Joseph’s life and expound upon how wonderful things turned out for him. With this understanding of the story, I could exclaim that if I act as Joseph did, and always put God’s will first for my life the same pattern will happen in my life and I’ll become a college president. But that wouldn’t be an honest or even fair assessment of my own story. I’m not sure that’s even a fair assessment of Joseph’s situation. We know how the story turned out, but Joseph didn’t know how things were going to end up. I’m not sure the point of the story is that it turned out well because Joseph honored God with his life. I think it might be more useful to understand that Joseph honored God even when his dream began to look like a bunch of hogwash – and I’m sure it did look like hogwash as his older brothers were throwing curses and insults down at him in the well. “How’s your dream lookin’ now, you little bastard?!?!” Even when he was pulled up and sold into slavery, I think Joseph probably had significant doubts about the validity of his dream. I don’t think he was tied up on the back of that Egyptian wagon thinking, “Wow, it’s going to be AWESOME when God gets me out of this situation. People are going to be talking about me for thousands of years!” Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so.

I’m not saying that I feel like I’m a slave on the back end of an Egyptian wagon train. Don’t get me wrong; I’m very blessed. But I’ve come to a point where I have no idea what to make of the surreal “calling experience” I had those years back. It was frustrating and at times depressing to consider that things weren’t working out like I thought they would or should. But eventually I realized that any “grand” plans He has for my life are His plans, and I’m not privy to the blueprint, nor am I the architect of the plans. The fact is, I wanted to be a college president for so long that I can’t be sure God was calling me or if I simply had a strong emotional response to some very nice things a man once said about me. What I do know, as I sit in the basement of a residence hall, is if God has called me to, well, anything, it will happen on His terms. My endeavors to pave a road that God will set before me are futile. I will live my life as if my only goal is to honor God. Because it is, no matter what. For it is now clear to me, apart from God, I can do nothing.

Of course, there is no real conclusion to this story. You can conclude what you want when I’m six feet under. But I’ll say this: I don’t think about a college presidency any more. I just don’t. In fact, I don’t even find if very appealing anymore. It feels strange to say that, because it was such a strong feeling and belief for so long. I will work hard at whatever job I have, when I have it, and let the rest take care of itself knowing that God will tweak things as He sees fit, for whatever purpose He may have.

It seems appropriate to conclude this entry with a quote from Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, by Eugene Peterson. I pray that I approach my “place” with the same spirit as Gregory of Nyssa.

Several times when my place seemed inadequate for my vision of what I wanted to do for God, a story held me fast to my place, the story of Gregory of Nyssa, who lived in Cappadocia in the fourth century. His older brother Basil, a bishop, arranged for his brother to be appointed bishop of the small, obscure, and decidedly unimportant town of Nyssa. Gregory objected; he didn’t want to be stuck in such an out-of-the-way place. His brother told him that he didn’t want Gregory to obtain distinction from his church but rather to confer distinction upon it. Gregory went where he was placed. And he stayed there. The preaching and writing that he did in that backwater community continues its invigorating influence to this day. One of the features of his biblical expositions was the thoroughness and intensity with which he read Scripture as a text for living, not just for truth or ideas, but as a formative text for Christian faithfulness and obedience(pp. 73-73).

My Story...Part III

The is the third installment of a part of my story. Scroll down for parts I and II.

“As If…”
Jeff Scott

In June of 2005 I interviewed for and was offered a position as a Program Coordinator in the student activities office at Emerson College. As an evening position (3-11PM), I was essentially the only student life professional available to students during the evening hours. There were RD’s, but at Emerson the Residential Life Department was a separate entity from student activities. I can’t overstate what a great experience Emerson College was for me. My supervisor, Sara, was wonderful. She had her quirks, but she was the consummate professional. She was exactly the type of supervisor I needed. She made it clear where I needed to improve and was supportive in striving for that improvement. I made some terrific friends and colleagues that I will never forget. With all of the beneficial aspects of the position, however, I was still struggling with my motivation and performance. (I must say, I have always been my toughest critic, and I think Sara would agree.) I was soon to learn why I was struggling.
I was in the last year of my program at APU when I read two books that were pivotal for me. The first was a book titled Dreams Nightmares and Pursuing the Passion: Personal Perspective on College and University Leadership by a woman named Shannon Ellis. This was a tremendous book by someone who was passionate about her field. It was clear that she believed anyone who was serious about student affairs should be passionate about it too. She even admonished people without the passion to get out of the field to make room for those that were. There was that word again, passion. I was beginning to wonder if I had the passion it would take to be successful. Was I doing the field and good? I was beginning to think not.
The other book I read was called Let your Life Speak by Parker Palmer. Reading this book was a bizarre experience for me. It was like I could have written the 1st half of the book. In it, he gives his account of the early part of his career in higher education. He was a young, bright academic when he was told at a young age that he was a born leader. An influential college administrator told him that he was destined to be a college president. So he began to prepare “as if” with a presidency in mind, and, to a certain degree he was pretty successful. He earned his doctorate and started doing the things that college presidents do. But he didn’t like the politics and fund-raising. He began to realize (after years of depression and failure) that he didn’t want to be a college president after all. He wasn’t good at it. He was an academic and a writer. Those were the things he was good at. He should have followed his talent and ability. I saw my experience as very similar to, though different than, his experience. I thrust myself into student affairs because there didn’t seem to be any other door in development. But I wasn’t passionate about it. Now, several years later, I began to understand that this is why I couldn’t answer the hiring manager’s question effectively when I first interviewed for my RD position. I couldn’t explain my passion for student affairs because I didn’t have a passion for student affairs. My passion was for a career in development. Actually, if I’m honest, I should probably say that my passion was to be a college president. When Parker Palmer was working in a field that he was not passionate about, he ended up clinically depressed. While I never reached clinical depression, I was beginning to notice things about my life that were leading down that road.
As I read Palmer’s account of his battle with depression I began to step back and look at my own situation. I was frustrated at work. I was honestly trying hard at my job, but I wasn’t experiencing success like I wanted to. There was little enjoyment in the position other than the student interaction, and there was no professional satisfaction. Even my successes were less than satisfying. My supervisors never complained, but I was honest enough to put myself in their place. If I was them I’d want more from my Program Coordinator. I wanted to do better. After a while, the frustration at work kind of took over my life. It was springtime and I hadn’t even noticed the familiar sights, sounds and smells of the outdoors that I had loved so much. It became clear to me that I was experiencing the same disappointments and problems that Parker Palmer experienced. My desire for a career in higher education wasn’t because I had a passion for student affairs, it was because I have a deep desire to be a college president. That is why I struggled at work. So, with a month left in my graduate program in college student affairs, I made the decision to get out of the field.

My Story...Part II

This is the second part of a story from part of my life, pretty much from when I was in my 20's. If you want to read the first part, click here, or just scroll down.

“As If…

The Student Affairs Experience”

Jeff Scott

A couple months later the student development office at ENC announced that the Resident Directors’ positions would be changing from part-time to full-time and I wondered if this was an avenue I should pursue. After all, it was an administrative staff position, a clear opportunity for professional development, and most importantly attractive to my wife. (It’s funny how God will speak through a spouse!) I applied for the position and was granted an interview. It was now early summer 2001 and I was excited for this opportunity. I was relatively sure I would be offered the position and truly believed I was the right person for the job. From my perspective interview process moved along smoothly. The only bump in the road seemed pretty small- one simple question. Actually, it wasn’t the question that surprised me, rather it was the difficulty I had convincing them of my answer. The question was from Robert, the man who would be my direct supervisor of the position.

Well into the interview, the Robert looked at me and asked “Jeff, where does your passion for this position come from?” I explained that I simply wanted to help the ENC students have a wonderful, meaningful, and healthy college experience. Apparently he wasn’t convinced because he asked the question again later, then stating that he wasn’t really hearing the passion in my voice. I answered again, but I still don’t think I convinced him. At any rate, I was offered the position and began serving in this capacity for the fall semester, 2001. I didn’t think of this question again for many years.

I wish I had taken the time to journal during my time as a RD. I held this position for 4 years (fall 2001-spring 2005) and I can’t really decipher the highs from the lows. There were some good times and some bad times. I think it says something that I can remember lots of professional frustration and little success. “Mediocre” is probably an appropriate term to describe my professional experience during these 4 years. Since I didn’t journal during that time, my recollection is somewhat clouded by hindsight. Suffice to say, all of the frustrations seemed to be getting in the way of my goal, a college presidency. I was consumed by my call.

I knew that if I was training or preparing “as if” I was going to be a college president some day, I would need to get a doctorate. During the fall of 2002 I began to research some graduate schools and programs in both Higher Education and College Student Affairs. This research came during one of my low points, and while I was looking at schools, I was also researching possible jobs. One of the jobs was in Pennsylvania and as it turned out, Penn State had a program in Higher Education. I applied to this program as well as to Boston College’s Lynch School of Education which had a well-respected student affairs program. I used the same essay on both applications and spoke about my desire for a career in development. Now, seeing as BC’s program was a student affairs program, it seems that it would have been prudent to compose an essay speaking of my desire for a career in student affairs. There were two problems with this. One, I didn’t desire a long career in student affairs. This degree was really only going to be a means to an end anyways. It was another step to my doctorate, which was just the next step to a presidency. (This could explain the trouble I had explaining my passion during my interview!) Two, the way I looked at it, if God wanted me to attend BC, the essay wouldn’t be a problem. (Today, with the benefit of hindsight and a bit more wisdom, this approach doesn’t seem quite as logical as it did then.) In addition, I was considering two summer track programs- Azusa Pacific University which had a summer track program in College Student Affairs, and Geneva College in PA with a summer track program in Higher Ed.

In the early spring I received my letters from each of the universities- first a letter of acceptance from Penn State, then a letter of rejection from BC. Upon receive my letter from Penn State I began to do some more research about the program. It was then that I discovered that the program at Penn State was well-respected, ranking #2 in US News and World Report. It was ranked ahead of Harvard, Yale, and every other “big name” school I could think of. Only the University of Michigan was ranked higher. Presidency in mind, I had our bags packed! Then my wife came home. She was happy for me…but she was also very pregnant…we weren’t moving. It was bad timing, but I took the acceptance to PSU as a confirmation that someone, somewhere, on an admissions board at a well respected program in Pennsylvania believed I had a promising future in higher education too- it wasn’t just Lee who believed in my capabilities.

Seeing as Penn State was not a realistic option, I was now seriously looking at APU and Geneva. I was working in student affairs, so it seemed that a student affairs degree actually did make sense. In addition, one of my colleagues was currently in the Geneva program. I figured that APU’s program may bolster the educational experience in our department, so I decided to attend APU and began in the June of 2003. APU’s program was terrific. The faculty was supportive, knowledgeable, and everything else I needed. I learned a lot about student affairs, higher ed. and even more about myself. Most importantly, I began to discover why my experience in student affairs wasn’t as fulfilling as I might have hoped; more on this in a moment.

During the winter of 2005, it became evident that I needed to move on from ENC. I had become frustrated and lacked any motivation. I didn’t believe anyone in my department really understood me. They liked me, but they didn’t really know me. The only exception was a very close, dear colleague named Amanda. But she was a colleague, not a mentor. Ultimately, I felt that my opportunity for growth was limited at ENC and it was time to move on. I was hoping to learn more about higher education and myself. And, in fact, I would learn a lot more about myself in the next several months.

My Story- Part 1

Over the next few days, I’d like to share part of my story with you. It’s not something that I’ve shared with everyone before because much of it is very personal and discusses some, well, what I may have once referred to as “failures” in my life. I don’t think I’d describe them that way anymore, but the story is still emotional for me, nonetheless. I’ve written and edited this at many different points in my life, and hindsight has always changed the original text. It is likely that it will change it more in the future. The story is long, so I have chopped it into 4 sections for 4 different posts. Today’s is the longest of the four. The story is about my professional work experience to this point. Enjoy…

Oh, one more thing- I typed this in MS Word. None of the formatting transferred to the blog site. I haven't gone through the process of reformatting it. It's a pain. I have to keep reminding myself that this is a free site, so I shouldn't complain about it's shortcomings.

“As If...
The Birth of My Young Ambition”

When I graduated from Eastern Nazarene College (E.N.C.) with a B.A. in psychology in 1998, I knew one think for certain- I did not want to pursuer a career as a psychologist, therapist, psychiatrist, or any other profession in the world of psychology. There was a better chance of me going to work for the psychic network- and I’m a skeptic. Nor was I called to be a pastor, as so many of my friends, family members, and other acquaintances insisted. I had not heard any sort of distinct call in any direction including pastoral ministry.

Upon graduation my wife of six months and I took our belated honeymoon. When we returned to what we knew as the real world we moved into a small apartment on the campus of E.N.C. She began a position in the registrar’s office and in August I became the overnight security manager on campus. In March of 1999, the assistant grounds manager position became available and I applied. I’m not sure why or when my interest in lawn care began, but I’ve always enjoyed mowing grass and other simple landscaping tasks, so the position was appealing at that time. Besides, the overnight, 7-nights a week security position was long, lonely, and sometimes spooky job. After an interview I was offered the job.

I truly enjoyed the position. It wasn’t just the horticulture; rather it was the whole experience of running the grounds department at ENC. My new supervisor, Dave, had been a part of the ENC community for about 5 years, transplanted from Pennsylvania where he worked for 30-plus years at Longwood Gardens, a world renowned botanical garden. As such, he was very knowledgeable about horticulture. However, as gifted as he was at working with plants, the administrative tasks associated with day to day planning were not his strength and he left this portion of the department management up to me. He’d tell me what needed to be trimmed, cut, etc., and I’d plan the activity of the grounds department in a way that would make sure each of these tasks were completed in a timely manner. Dave and I worked very well together and I still look back to those days as one of the best experiences of my life.

Daily tasks notwithstanding, there were two other aspects of the job I really enjoyed. First, it gave me the unique opportunity to speak with all of the members of the ENC community each day. This came naturally to me for many reasons. I had recently graduated from the institution and knew most of the students. My younger brother also recently began to attend the school, so he introduced me to some influential students, who introduced me to others, on and on. I had many of the members of the faculty as professors so I already knew them. My family heritage helped too. My grandfather had been president of the institution in the 80’s president of Bethany Nazarene College and Nazarene Theological Seminary in the mid-late 70’s, the founding president of Mount Vernon Nazarene College (now University), Dean of Men at ENC previous to that, and his father had served as president of ENC in the 1920’s. Eventually in 1989, grandpa was elected to serve as the first Commissioner of Nazarene Higher Education. I might say that I knew the faculty and staff at ENC (and to a certain degree all of Nazarene Higher education) well, but the truth is, most of those people knew me and my family better than I knew them!

My connection to the “Nazarene Network” continued through my father. He was a product of Nazarene Higher Education and graduated from NTS. He had served as a pastor in the Upstate New York district, held a district position in Ohio for a short time, and has had an influential role on the New England district since he assumed a pastoral role in 1984. I have family in Virginia and Maryland, and I’ve lived in New Hampshire and Vermont. In short, I could identify with any visitor to campus and they could identify with me. It came naturally, and cultivating new personal meaningful relationships through personal interaction is part of who I am.

The second activity my position availed to me was the opportunity to think and dream. I sat on a lawn mower for hours, and I loved every second of it. But I didn’t just think about anything, I thought about ENC. Some background information will help…For many reasons, most of which I don’t know or understand, during the time that I was serving as the assistant grounds manager, ENC began to experiencing significant financial difficulties. (I’m sure it had nothing to do with the brand-spankin’ new hydrostatic lawn-mower or the very large leaf vacuum they just purchased for my department!) Faculty and staff were questioning the administration; there were layoffs and some faculty and staff moved to greener pastures. When they left they took along hard feelings and stories laced with negativity. (I’ve since visited some of these hurt people- the feelings still run deep.) It didn’t take long for rumors to develop about ENC. Many people were saying that the school was going to close. I don’t know how close this was to being true, but it made me sad. All the negativity was clouding the great things that were still happening in the lives of students. These positive things were what I thought about. It was still obvious to me that ENC remained a school where God continued to work in the lives of its students. If it was/is God’s school, then we’ll be hard pressed to run it under! I still loved ENC passionately and believed not only in her mission, but also in her ability to fulfill that mission.

I used to sit on the mower all day dreaming about traveling around the region telling people about all the great things ENC had to offer, asking them for donations so ENC could move triumphantly into the future. But then again, I was just there to mow lawns. I didn’t know a whole lot about ENC’s fund raising department. Given the current financial situation at the school, I was left wondering how effective it was. After all, I was my graduating class’s correspondent and I had never been approached about setting any class goals or anything like that. Further, this was about the only department on campus that employed somebody I didn’t know. There was this one dude I’d see walking around campus every now and then smiling at people as they passed him on the sidewalk. At some point, somebody told me that he served in some sort of fund-raising capacity. As it turns out, I was about to become acquainted with the fund-raising guy.

On a campus as small as ENC’s, everyone gets to know everyone else whether they want to or not. Consequently, if you were new on campus it was difficult to remain inconspicuous. Such was the case for the fund-raising guy. While I didn’t even know his name, I always enjoyed passing him from time to time as he was always particularly nice to me. A jovial man of big stature with dark hair, he had a very welcoming presence about him. He always greeted me with a large, toothy smile, a head nod, and a deep, hearty “Hello there!” For several months this was the extent of our interaction.

I finally began to get acquainted with him when he volunteered for “planting day.” Planting day was a day in the spring just before graduation when members of the college community would gather together to plant the flower beds on campus. Members of the ENC garden club would plan the flower arrangements in each bed and then my department would organize the logistics of planting day. Of course, the logistics of this day fell to me. We’d order the plants, make sure they were delivered on time, and then carefully separate them for each bed. I’d have my crew make sure the correct flowers were placed by the correct bed with the proper planting tools. Then I’d assign a volunteer to a bed to get to work! Throughout the day, I’d visit each volunteer to make sure they had everything they needed for a successful morning of planting. On planting day during the spring of 2000 I was pleased to finally officially meet one of our volunteers, the fund-raising guy.

He told me his name was Lee. He was a development consultant and was working at ENC in a temporary capacity until the school hired a new Director of Development. He and his wife made their home in Montana, and, I was told, this was where he usually engaged in his horticultural interests. When he heard that ENC was having a planting day he was thrilled to volunteer. I let him know that we were just as thrilled to have his help, and when I had determined he had all of the necessary tools for planting his flower bed, I moved on to my next group of volunteers. We really didn’t communicate much more after that day; we simply were now able to address each other by name during our passing greetings. The relationship began to develop a bit more at an ENC event later that month.

The year 2000 was the year of ENC’s centennial celebration. The college administration had been planning a large Centennial Celebration Dinner. As ENC events go, this was the largest. It started with a boat cruise across Boston Harbor to the World Trade Center, Boston for a fancy dinner and program. It was a beautiful May evening- the kind you can only experience in Boston- and everything went really well. All surviving ENC presidents were in attendance- five in all. It was a “Who’s who of ENC” event and I had been looking forward to it for a while. My mother and father were in attendance as well as my Nease grandparents, and of course, my wife. Lee, being the development consultant, was also in attendance.

About halfway across Boston Harbor my father approached me and asked an interesting question, “What did you do to Lee?”
“Excuse me? Nothing, why,” I replied?
“Because he just had the most wonderful things to say about you!” “Really,” I asked?
“Yeah, he just told me what a wonderful young man you are- a great leader with a bright future!”
“You know,” I said, “I find that he’s always seemed to treat me a bit, well, extra nicely. I don’t know why; we’ve had limited interaction. He’s just seems to really like me for some reason.”
His comments to my father were perplexing but they made me feel pretty good. I know they made my dad proud!

The next direct interaction I remember having with Lee occurred in early to mid-October 2000. I had gone up to the school cafeteria to try and beat the normal lunch rush. Apparently Lee had the same idea as he and I were the only two people in the cafeteria at that time. I had taken my seat first, and Lee asked if he could join me. Of course I obliged and the small talk began:
“It’s hard to believe we’re pulling up all those flowers we planted back in May,” I said.
“It sure is! The summer really flew by! Are you and your crew able to keep ahead of all the leaves?”

“For the most part, but you know, falling leaves are job-security in my line of work!” This was mostly a joke, but I was pretty sure that one of the only reasons my position wasn’t cut during the layoffs was because someone had to mow the grass and rake the leaves. I’m confident there were other reasons too.

Then the conversation began to get a little more serious. “What are your career plans, Jeff?”
“I’m not sure, really. I like my job right now and love ENC, but I think at some point I’ll have to get more serious about a career.”

At this point Lee put his silverware down, swallowed what he was chewing, wiped his mouth clean, and assumed a “Let’s get down to business” posture. “Do you have a few minutes,” he asked? I nodded.

“Good, I need to tell you something.” The next words out of Lee’s mouth would change the course of my life.

“Jeff, I hope you don’t take any offense to what I am about to say. I don’t mean to offend, in fact, quite the contrary. I have difficulty watching you- your leadership abilities and potential- without wondering why you are settling for an assistant grounds manager position at a small college. Don’t get me wrong, I love horticulture and place high value on individuals that work on the physical plant side of college and universities. If this is the profession for you I wish you all the best. It is an important service you provide. But I can’t help but I think that you possess some abilities that might open up doors for you in other areas. It didn’t take me long to notice you and I’ve been watching you ever since I arrived on campus. It is very evident that you love your job. You are a tremendous leader in your department and your whole crew responds to you very well. The campus looks great and it’s because of the leadership you bring to your department. But I watch more than just your job performance. I’ve watched how you interact with people on campus. Your personality brings respect, and it’s clear that you truly care about people that are around you. You want each person on campus to feel that they are a welcomed and valued member of the ENC community.”

While I was surprised by these kind words, I was beginning to understand why Lee was always so nice to me. I was listening intently as he continued…

“You probably don’t know this, but I worked with your grandfather for a brief time when he was at Mount Vernon. I helped him with some fund-raising. Your grandfather was a well respected college administrator, development officer, and college president. He had skills and personal abilities that you just can’t teach. It was these abilities that made him a well-respected and effective leader. When I watch you I see all of the same qualities. Qualities that for the most part cannot be taught, but can be molded and strengthened. I am doubtful that this is going to happen in your current position.”

It didn’t take long for his words to have a significant impact on me. My grandfather wasn’t just my grandfather. He was my hero. He was everyone’s hero. Here was a man that I hardly knew telling me I had the same qualities that made my grandfather the man he was.

“You are not the first person I have said this to,” he continued. “I once saw a guy about your age working a forklift on a loading dock. I saw some of the same qualities in him. I took him under my wing and he’s a successful development officer now. I saw the same traits in one of Dr. Parrott’s sons. I spoke to Dr. Parrott about helping his son in a similar fashion. Roger Parrott became one of the youngest college presidents in the country. Jeff, if you were mentored properly I could see you attain a college presidency during my lifetime.”

By this point I was totally enthralled. I mean, who wouldn’t be? He continued…

“Jeff, here’s what I’d like to do…I am confident that I can talk to Kent [Hill] (ENC president at the time) about this and get you the money it would take to pay you. I’d like to take you under my wing, train you, and get you on the road raising money for ENC. Why don’t you think about it for a little while and when you feel comfortable, let me know what you decide.”

My head was spinning. I began to look back over my life and my recent thoughts about the state of affairs at ENC and I had a very emotional, surreal experience that I believed was a distinct call from God. As I look back, I have difficulty articulating the feelings I experienced during that time. It was a very personal experience and I believe only those that have had the same experience could understand what I was going through. I told Lee that I would give it some thought, but I was pretty sure I knew what my answer was going to be.

I began to speak about this decision with a few close friends, my parents, in-laws, my wife, and Grandpa Nease. The opinions spanned the spectrum from overly enthusiastic (my parents) to unsure at best (my wife). Grandpa simply told me to train “as if…”. He didn’t’ assure me it was going to happen, he simply told me to train “as if” it would happen so I could be ready when, and if, it did. I spent some time in prayer and decided to accept Lee’s offer. A few mornings later I was in his office and he immediately began to give me some training materials he had written. Over the next few days I began to study it and complete some of the exercises that were included with the material. I continued to serve in my grounds position as this was to be a gradual transition. Things were moving along nicely.

A few days later everything came to a screeching halt. I received a call from Lee asking me if I could take him to the airport. He was returning to Montana; I assumed this was for a visit to his wife. While I was driving to Logan airport, Lee began to explain that he had a disagreement with one of the administrators at ENC. This wasn’t the first disagreement he had with this person and it was clear that the two of them would not be able to work together. Lee had called Dr. Hill and informed him that he was unable to continue to offer his services to ENC. He apologized to me and suggested that I meet with Dr. Hill and explain my interest in development. He said something about me possibly moving to Montana (which made NO sense- either to him or me) and then gave me his card and told me to contact him if I needed any advice.

It took me some time to process the conversation and it was not until I was driving home from the airport that I fully understood what he just told me. Lee was gone. He wasn’t coming back. I had begun to re-arrange my life because of the words this man had spoken! Talk about a let down. After several phone calls and emails, it became clear to me that I wasn’t going to be able to lean on Lee’s advice as much as I might have liked. So I made attempts to move forward on my own.

A few days later I met with Dr. Hill. He was…polite. I mean, what was I supposed to expect? I wasn’t even really sure what I was trying to tell him. He had other problems, and mentoring me wasn’t high on his list. In fact, I’m sure it wasn’t even on his list. I was on my own. In the span of two weeks I had gone from a content assistant grounds manager with no direction in life to an aspiring college president with a person to mentor me into all I could be, to a discontented assistant grounds manager who lost his mentor and once again had no direction. However, while Lee had said some very nice things to me, I still believed that I was responding to a call from God- not Lee. I would press on, trusting that God would open the appropriate doors for me.

Tomorrow... College Student Affairs

A quick hello!

I understand that there likely isn't anyone waiting for my next blog, or wondering why I've been so quiet lately. But I can't believe I haven't posted anything in over 2 months. Actually, it's been longer than that for a "real" post. Let's just say I don't have the same time that I once had to blog like I did. I miss it.

My brother started a 12-week series that I think some of you will appreciate. The series is entitled "American Idols". No, it's not about the show. It is about how we as Americans can lose sight of the Kingdom of God and need to re-evaluate what is important. You probably get the gist...

I thought I'd take a second to provide the link for you. Here it is:

http://northst.org/podcasts/20090712.mp3

You can also access it and subscribe via iTunes.

Till next time!...

Laughter at the Graveside.

This will be a quick one. I'm hoping it'll bring you a laugh.

My grandma Nease died back in April and we all took a trip to Mt. Vernon, OH to bury her ashes with Grandpa and their son, David. (This is their first son David, who died in 1970. Their second son David is still alive and all too well. So don't worry if you thought I was talking about him.) The whole family had gathered around the gravestone and my family of 4 was just about the last to arrive. While we weren't all crying or anything, it was kind of a somber moment as you may imagine. Josh was walking a bit ahead of us and Joy and I were kind of watching to see how he reacted to everything. I was all ready to console him and explain carefully what was going to happen. I was concerned the he'd think it was weird.

Well Josh, ever the shy guy, walks right up to the 8-inch circular hole awaiting the ashes, peers down into the 3-foot chasm and exclaims, "That...hole...is...AWESOME!!!"

Somehow, I don't think grandma would have been all that upset.

Just had to post that story before I forgot it.

A Book Review: The Lost Letters of Pergamum

I am currently reading two books- Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, by Eugene Peterson and The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism, by Timothy Keller, and have just finished two others- Prodigal God, by Timothy Keller and The Lost Letters of Pergamum, by Bruce W. Longenecker. My reading habits had waned in the past few months but are picking up steam again. The purpose of this post is to sing the praises for The Lost Letters of Pergamum. It is likely that you have never read a book exactly like Pergamum. It is historical fiction, but written as a series of ancient correspondences between the Biblical figure Antipas (Revelation 2:13) and Luke, the inspiration for- or as this book suggests, the author of- Luke and Acts. I was fascinated by the book and likely would have read it straight through if the details of life didn’t force me to take two breaks.

I’ve come to understand that as a white, relatively tall, extremely good-looking, blonde American living in the 21^st century, that I have very little in common with the Jesus of ancient Israel. This was a troublesome discovery. I grew up to believe that Jesus knows me better than I know myself, so it seemed only natural that I’d know Jesus pretty well too. The epiphanal notion that Jesus wasn’t from Massachusetts but Galilee, wasn’t middle-class but poorer than I’ll ever know, wasn’t college educated but an artisan, and most importantly wasn’t Christian but Jewish was somewhat unsettling for me. I didn’t lose faith, but began to realize that to really appreciate my faith, I needed to understand the cultures and belief systems from which my faith traditions were born. The more I thought about it, the more I began to understand that the ancient middle east is nothing like the modern US. As I set out to learn more about the foundation my faith, church, and traditions, I became deeply interested in learning about who Jesus was and how the world he lived in operated. But it wasn’t just Jesus’s culture that I was curious about. It was all of the cultures that influenced Jesus that began to interest me- Jewish or otherwise. And not just so I could understand a certain portion of scripture better. I want to know what my culture has in common with the ancient cultures. Or more adequately, ancient issues I've never experience in my culture. What was that culture like on a day to day basis? What were the things a Jew had to deal with in that day? Anybody who reads the Bible will see a clear culture war between the Jews and…well, everyone else. What exactly was going on? As I search for answers to questions such as these, I look for personal connections to an ancient world wherever I can find them. I look for ways to make a personal God more personal, if you will. Occasionally I find them in the most unexpected, even fabricated ways.

You will likely remember a few years back when The DaVinci Code caused all sorts of controversy for suggesting that Jesus might have been married. It’s likely that people were outraged by other things in the book too, but those issues are beside my point. I read the book, really enjoyed it, and didn’t understand why so many people were so upset by a fiction book. I was bothered by the fact that so many people cared whether Jesus was married or not, or simply that he may have been, GASP, attracted to women! When it came down to it, I didn’t care whether or not Jesus was married. I didn’t believe and still don’t believe that he was, but the simple idea that he may have had a desire inter-personal intimacy, perhaps to the level of a marriage relationship, made him more like me. You know how you can be having a conversation with someone in which they explain a challenging situation they’ve experienced and you exclaim, “ME TOO!!!!” You can really identify with their situation because you know what it feels like. The DaVinci Code didn’t accuse Jesus of sleeping around, it simply suggested that he had the same desires of any other human and got married like any other Jewish male would be expected to in ancient Israel. Listen, it’s hard enough for me to identify with a modern, American Jew living across the street from me, let alone one that lived in a 2000-year-old culture half-way around the globe. So, The DaVinci Code actually helped me to identify with Christ in a way that I hadn’t before- even if the book was fiction. It simply helped me think, in a different way, about the emotions Jesus might have had on a day to day basis. Don’t worry; I don’t pull out a copy of the book for my daily devotions. However, I might pull out a copy of The Lost Letters of Pergamum if my Bible reading will include anything from the New Testament.

The Lost Letters of Pergamum really has nothing in common with The DaVinci Code other than bringing additional realism to my faith. DaVinci is a fiction book based loosely on a couple pieces of historical information that might be true. It was written to make the author money. Pergamum is a fiction book based on several historical facts. It was written to take the reader back to the decades after Jesus’s life on earth in an effort to illustrate how Christianity began to take root in the Roman Empire. At no point did I exclaim “me too,” rather, the book helped me to understand just how different my world is from the world in which the writers of the New Testament were living. Instead of “me too,” there was an overall sense of “Ahhhh, now I get it!” In the Author’s Preface Longenecker states, “My hope is that readers of this narrative will not only enjoy the story line for its own sake…but will also profit from a better appreciation of the historical context of the early Christian writings and, thereby, develop sharper instincts for understanding the writings of the New Testament in the contexts.” The author hit his mark. I suppose he made a little money too. But not as much as Dan Brown.

Longenecker showed great skill and imagination by writing an entire work about a person that was only mentioned once in the Bible- and a passing reference at that. In Revelation 2:13, John mentions a man named Antipas who was martyred in the ancient city of Pergamum. The next couple of verses mention some of the circumstances that might have surrounded Antipas in Pergamum, but nothing more of Antipas. Longenecker creates a persona for Antipas- that of an ancient Roman nobleman- and creates a very compelling narrative about the life in ancient Rome and the stark contrast between the new atheist “Christians” and the Roman society of the day.

The lost letters, which are found by a fictional archeologist during a fictional excavation of the historical Pergamum, begin with a few letters between Antipas and Calpurnius, the son of Theophilus, for whom Luke wrote his monograph, which we know as the gospel according to Luke. Calpurnius introduces Antipas and Luke to each other and the letters discuss the subject of Luke’s writing, Jesus, and the empire of God. Through Antipas’s letters we begin to see, and feel like we are experiencing just what it meant to be a Christian living in the 1^st century Roman world. The following is an excerpt from a letter from Calpurnius to Antipas which I believe is a good representation of how the letters paint a picture of life in the Roman Empire during the 1^st century.

Since you [Antipas] are new to the area[Pergamum], you might be interested to know about a close associate of my household, an esteemed doctor and scholar named Luke. He is currently in Toras, where he has been instructing Eutychus, a friend. Since the shipping lanes have closed for the winter, he will return to Ephesus by land, passing through Pergamum on his return journey. He intends to stay as a guest in the house of Antonius, a city magistrate and man of great repute. Luke shares with you a keen interest in history. Before his death, my father, Theophilus, commissioned Luke to write a historical account of an intriguing man from Galilee and his followers. Luke finished this historical monograph about ten years ago. Despite its length (it extends to two sizable volumes), it remains in great demand. No doubt you and he would have much to discuss with regard to recent events in and around Galilee. Perhaps Antonius could let you now when Luke arrives in Pergamum, since you both would profit from each other’s interests.

There are historical references, and obviously many theological references throughout the book, some of which the reader may find challenge their understanding of the Bible or how they understood the Bible to have been composed. However, these new ideas do not get in the way of the flow of the book and are not faith shattering.

I highly recommend The Lost Letters of Pergamum, both for the confessed Christian and for the casual fan of historical fiction. I actually enjoyed the book so much I googled the author, emailed him, and told him how much I enjoyed it. He replied, stating that the book pretty much wrote itself. That was kinda cool. So, grab some coffee, a munchie, and let The Lost Letters of Pergamum take you back to an unfamiliar time. You won’t regret that you did.