Their truest life to find

[What follows is an excerpt from my remarks at the Farewell Reception on June 1st.]

    I came to DU fully hoping that I’d be able to stretch myself beyond the bounds that I’d had the prior 17 years — as an Episcopal campus minister. In that role, I had a very focused community. In that role, I was always “across the street” from campus, both literally and figuratively. That is, I was employed by the Church, not by the campus. And that meant my access to the universities was somewhat constrained. At DU, the campus, from groundskeepers to Trustees, faculty, staff, and students — regardless of their religious/spiritual affiliation — all were my “flock”. And I loved moving among  those various constituencies. I learned so much!
    I learned, for example, to love lacrosse. Susan [my wife] said, after our first DU game, “They get to hit each other with sticks? And it’s legal? I LOVE this game!” And so do I! I now understand how the scoring in gymnastics works, and that “wins” in a match are much less important that the overall score.  
    I learned, through my association with Jimmy Wicket — a program that pairs volunteers (students, faculty or staff) with Alzheimer’s sufferers — not only about Alzheimers disease, but also croquet (not the backyard variety!). And I learned how much joy the volunteers gained through playing with the seniors — some of those senior citizens were DU grads!
    Speaking of croquet, I learned that hockey players weren’t as good making the transition to croquet with seniors citizens as was the women’s golf team.
    I learned that despite the Registrar’s reservations with the course title, honors program students LOVED taking my class on human-animal interaction: “Pets, Partners or Pot-roast”.
   I learned that Trustees, Vice-chancellors and Deans loved entering a pool at commencement on how long conferring the degrees would take, and was surprised that theythought it odd that the University Chaplain was the book-maker.
    On the more sombre side, I learned how to respond to tragedies, whether the death of a coach’s son, to student deaths as a result of car accidents, to faculty/staff deaths from natural causes. And I learned that marshaling the resources of the university to deal with national/global disasters helped provide ways, not only for people to be involved, but also to process the ways of the world with others. 
    And, of course, I learned an incredible amount about different religious traditions, their holidays, and how those traditions interacted with university life.  Negotiating religious obligations and accommodations, whether dietary restrictions or  the need to miss class for a holiday, gave me an insight into the collision between the “secular world” and the various “sacred worlds” that I might never have gotten otherwise.
    I’ve been asked what’s next. First, let me say that I am not retiring, although my logo at DU will be retired, and maybe I’ll leave my hat with Special Collections/Archives. In keeping with the logo, however, I will say that I am "changing hats”. Final details are still being worked out, but the high likelihood is that I will be taking charge of an Episcopal church in the area — because Colorado is INCREDIBLY awesome! Between my last day on campus (June 15) and the start of that next adventure, I’ll be able to spend some time cycling, fishing, hiking, bird-watching, camping, and, oh yes, Susan, putting on my “Tim Allen hat” for some home-improvements..
    I’d like to close in a semi-unusual fashion ( at least for these kinds of events); I’m going to resort to the intersection of my academic training with my ministerial training. Many of you know I have a Ph.D. (from another Methodist "DU" — Duke). You may not know that it is in Early Christian History. Before you ask, my dissertation was on “Eunuchs in Early Christianity” . . . and I’m not talking about a computer language. And, if you don’t know what a “eunuch” is, google it: “E-u-n-u-c-h”.
    In the middle of the 2nd century of the Common Era, a letter — an “epistle”— was penned by someone called “Mathetes” (which simply means “disciple”) to someone else called “Diognetus. The Epistle is a defense of Christianity against its accusers. Some 1800 years later, a portion of that Epistle was summarized/translated into a hymn by an Episcopal priest named F. Bland Tucker. From the time I learned that hymn until now, it has remained one of my favorites, not only for its poetry, but also for its underlying theology.
    It begins:

The great Creator of the worlds,
The sovereign God of heaven,
His holy and immortal truth
To all on earth hath given

Then follow four verses that describe the way that truth was made “flesh”. But it is the first two lines of the last verse that I want to leave with you. 

Not to oppress, but summon all
Their truest life to find,*

“To summon all” — not just some, not just one sub-population — to summon all their truest life to find. That has been my goal at DU for the last eleven years, and it is my wish for us all:  May we all go forward not only to find OUR truest lives, but, wherever we find ourselves, to summon . . . to help others, THEIR truest lives to find.
     So be it!  And, thank you.
Namasté

Gary

* The full text of the hymn can be found here.

The Joy of Frustration

    Last Christmas, my wife gave me the 7th Edition of the National Geographic Field Guide to the Birds of North America.  From all that I had heard, it was THE best field guide published recently. And when I looked at it I had to agree. The pictures, the range maps and the descriptions of the various birds were all FABULOUS!  It even had thumb-cuts to move quickly between different families of birds. It had, not surprisingly, one deficiency:  it didn’t have my notes of where I saw particular birds for the first time.  All of THAT information was in my 4th Edition!
    The 4th Edition had been my go-to field guide pretty much since I started birding in the late -1980’s. So, as much as I wanted to take the 7th Edition into the field with me, I couldn’t quite let go of the 4th . . . because of the historical data it contained.  Only one solution:  transfer the information from 4th to 7th!
    Do you know how long it takes to go, page-by-page, through two field guides to re-record almost 450 initial sightings of various bird species?  A LONG time!  I finally finished the day before yesterday (June 4).
    But . . . that undertaking took me down “memory lane”. I was surprised by how many of the sightings happened on my birthday, or wedding anniversary. I could remember little details about almost every sighting — weather, other observers, funny stories, etc. How many states were represented as the “first time” I saw a bird? More than I recalled! But I also thought, through the process of transferral from one book to another, that, “Golly, I’m a pretty accomplished birder!”        
    Hah!
    This week I returned to the East Coast for a training in Connecticut. It was a different part of the U.S. than I’d birded before (although there was some similarity with my time in North Carolina). So I thought I’d be able to add to my life-list. I did my research. I knew what birds I might hope to find. And, when the first opportunity afforded itself, I grabbed my binocs and bird book (the 7th Ed!), and went out.
    Absolute frustration! I’d forgotten bird calls. I’d forgotten field marks. I kept hearing Rocky Mountain (or West Coast) birds — which, of course, weren't there. I’d forgotten a lot . . . and IT . . . WAS . . . FRUSTRATING! The experience drove me back to the book. I needed to refresh myself with all of the details (and, of course, with the internet, I could check on bird-song). And, the next day, when I went out again, my time out was much more satisfying, even joyful.
    The whole experience reminded me that there is (or can be) a certain benefit of being frustrated in a “task”. When I’m fishing, or cycling, or birding, or . . . praying, I can either take frustration as a sign that I should set the activity aside, OR I can enter into it more fully. I can do more research; I can focus my attention differently. I cannot let the frustration be the last word. To do so would deprive me of the joy that might lie on the other side.
    The cliché is “No pain, no gain”. I’m not exactly pain-averse, but I might say “Work through the frustration; find the joy!”

Namasté

Gary

Moving musings

      It begins today at DU (maybe some early birds started yesterday):  move out!. Today (June 1) is the last day of classes at DU. Those lucky few who don't have finals in the next few days are loading up their cars/SUVs/trailers/storage pods and are heading off to their summer adventure. And all of us know what that "moving" experience is like:  deciding what to take, what to leave behind (if that's an option), and what to discard.
      For the last several years, students at DU have had the option to "leave behind" items that they accumulated over the year. Whether clothing, office supplies, ski boots or ramen (unopened, of course), each residence hall has a "depository". The left-behind items are sorted with like items and are delivered to social service agencies, e.g., Goodwill, a homeless shelter, or a food bank. Many DU employees help with the sorting process, marveling at what's left behind -- often things look like they're brand new, or used only once.
       Such was the case with the shoes pictured above. I can't remember WHICH year these came into the "depository", but they were the subject of much conversation and merriment. So much so, that a couple of us decided that we should retain them and turn them into some kind of "sustainability award". Over the years since, they have graced my office window-sill; the "award" purpose having disappeared with the dissolution of the committee. Visitors to my office have just looked at them with a quizzical eye, which has given me a chance to tell their story.
       And, now, I'm in the process of moving out as I prepare to leave the University of Denver for something different (and, as yet, unknown). I'm faced with the question of what to take, what to leave behind, and what to discard. I recall a friend's system from many years ago when sorting through HIS library. Three piles:  (1) those books you can get at a library any time => discard (or donate); (2) those books you absolutely need on hand for professional reasons => keep; (3) those books that have sentimental value (or look good on the coffee table) => hard decision! Eleven years of computer files complicate everything:  Did I really revise that document seven times? How many of those revisions should go to Archives? Not to mention thousands of emails that should have been deleted years ago...
       All of these things -- books, pictures, emails, documents -- tell a story. And, as I've been packing up, I've gotten to relive many of those stories/memories. Some are good, some less so. Sure, there are some significant professional decisions to make, but I've decided NOT to use my friend Phil's categorization system. Instead, I'm going to rely much more on the fifth and sixth assumptions of Appreciative Inquiry*:  (5) People have more confidence and comfort to journey to the future (the unknown) when they carry forward parts of the past (the known); (6) If we carry parts of the past forward, they should be what is best about the past.
      We can certainly learn a lot from some of the "less good" memories/stories! And we"ll take that "education" with us; it has become part of who we are. But there is a lot of "baggage" that can be left behind. And there are a whole lot of treasures to take with us. Deciding which is which is a step towards wisdom.
      Now, if I could just figure out how a pair of 5-inch zebra-striped, sequined heels fits that system?

FREE TO A GOOD HOME!

Namasté

Gary

* Appreciative Inquiry is both a worldview and a process for facilitating positive change in human systems  -- and is applicable in individual lives as well!