Memphis Grizzles and the Advent Season

Midway through the second quarter, the Grizzles trailed by a whopping twenty-two points. They were being outplayed in every aspect of the game. The Miami Heat, even without front man, Shaquille O’Neal was shooting 68% from the field and teaching the Grizzles a lesson about the fundaments of basketball. But Memphis fans should have hope. We always find a way to stay in there and sure enough, by halftime we had clawed our way back to be down 57-48. By the middle of the 4^th Quarter, the Memphis Grizzles finally looked like they were about to play some basketball and in the final minutes of the game, after being down 22 points, Memphis took a commanding four point lead. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had almost written this game off as another loss and here we were about to win. I found myself on the edge of my couch, yelling at the TV with two of my best friends realizing exactly what I love about basketball. Rudy Gay gets fouled twice, splitting both sets of free throws and with 1.8 seconds left in the game, Memphis had a two point lead 97-95. This game is as good as over!

Memphis sends in defense expert Dahntay Jones to cover Dwayne Wade. 1.8 seconds is about enough time for one dribble and a shot, if you’re quick. Memphis has their best defensive player on Wade so I lean back in my seat and smile. I have had so many expectations for our Memphis team this year. My spirit has been marked with anticipation and longing. There is the yearning for the Grizzles to finally be delivered out of a playoff season with out a win. The ball goes into ex-Grizzly James Posey who without even looking at the basket, spins and from 26 feet and over the arms of Mike Miller, Posey throws up a prayer. The clock expired fractions of a second before the ball floated cleanly through the rim. The shot was nothing but net and another heart breaking loss for the Memphis Grizzles.

It only takes one good sports franchise to really bring a city together. The Redskins did it in DC years ago and for the last three years Memphians have been taking a little pride. But after going to the playoffs for a 3^rd straight year and failing to get a win, there has been a lot of expectation this year. Everyone has been anticipating the skills of rookies Rudy Gay and Kyle Lowery and 2^nd year newbies Hakim Warrick and Lawrence Roberts. We follow the Commercial Appeal in preparation of the season and long for nothing more than a playoff win. And now after slipping to a record of 4-12, the worst record in the NBA, the Grizzles have nothing to do but anticipate the arrival of Pau Gasol, our franchise player, to bring us out of exile in the NBA, and put us back into contention for a chance at the playoffs.

Welcome to the season of Advent. There is more to Advent then opening those fun little calendars with little chocolates behind the windows. For me, Advent is a lot like this years Grizzles basketball season. The word Advent means “coming” or “arrival”. The focus of the entire season is the celebration of the birth of Jesus and in anticipation of his coming again. Advent is marked by a spirit of expectation, of anticipation, of preparation, and of longing. We desire to be separated from the evils of this world just as the Israelites longed to be lifted out of oppression in ancient Egypt. Advent means anticipation of a King who will rule with truth and justice and righteousness over His people and in His creation. Advent reminds us of the hope of a Messiah to rule this world in this way.

And as we are waiting, we must prepare for that coming, which brings about what I find to be the most important quality of advent. Advent is a time to reflect, in order to prepare for the coming of Christ, we must reflect on all areas of our own lives. We look at our “season” and try to find a way to improve or try to grasp the new ways that God is working through us. This Advent, I invite you all to join Grab a “Day by Day” reflection book, or read a Chicken Soup for the Soul everyday. Or maybe take one quality that you would like to change about yourself and focus on that each week.

I want to share with you an Advent Reflection by Dennis Bratcher that I really enjoy. It is truly a humbling experience to read back through the Old Testament and see how frail and imperfect all the "heroes" actually are. Abraham, the coward who cannot believe the promise. Jacob, the cheat who struggles with everybody. Joseph, the immature and arrogant teen. Moses, the impatient murderer who cannot wait for God. Gideon, the cowardly Baal-worshipper. Samson, the womanizing drunk. David, the power abusing adulterer. Solomon, the unwise wise man. Hezekiah, the reforming king who could not quite go far enough. And finally, a very young Jewish girl from a small village in a remote corner of a great empire.

It never ceases to amaze me why God could not have chosen "better" people to do His work in the world. Yet if God can use them, and reveal Himself through them in such marvelous ways, it means that He might be able to use me, inadequate, and unwise, and too often lacking in faith that I am. And it means that I need to be careful that I do not in my own self-righteousness put limits on what God can do with the most unlikely of people in the most unlikely of circumstances. I think that is part of the wonder of the Advent Season.

A Reason to be Thankful

The noise in the hallways today has been a little louder than usual. The girls of St. Mary’s seem to be thrilled about the extended Thanksgiving Break. Each time one has walked in my office I have asked them if they are excited about Thanksgiving and I inquired about their plans. Although, I am pretty positive that almost everyone is excited to be out of school, some look a little terrified of their planned excursions.

“I have to go to my grandmothers, and there is no one my age, just my cousins who are a lot older and won’t hang out with me,” said one girl. I try to cheer them up but I understand exactly how they feel. We are forced to be around family and usually several more people than we are used to having invade our personal space. Holidays all around mean more family skirmishes, a lot more stress, and a hike in everyone’s blood pressure.

There is a special lectionary reading for Thanksgiving from the gospel of Matthew. In this Jesus says, “I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what your will drink, or about your body, what you will wear.” This comes at Thanksgiving, when we seem to stress about so much. I am fretting dealing with the stress levels of the Burruss kitchen as my mother and father try to prepare the turkey feast. Someone is always getting in the way and upsetting everyone else, the meal never goes exactly as planned, and although the last few years have been pretty easy with just the four of us, this year we have out-of-town guests. And that always means chaos. We always have a fabulous time, but we certainly worry about our food and drink.

As Thanksgiving arrives this week I challenge us all to quit worrying and be thankful and focused during this celebration of the gifts of God. I am thankful for the chaos in the kitchen because it means that I have a family to be with. I am thankful for worrying about if the turkey is too dry or too overcooked, because it means that I have a dinner that I can share with others. I am thankful for having the family invade my personal space at my home, because it means that I have a roof over my head and a place to have family visit. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Listening to Youth

I had the privilege of being a part of a spiritual retreat this past weekend for high school students. The annual event is called Bishop’s Bash and provides a unique experience for youth where they engage in conversation with the bishop of West Tennessee. In years past, we have designated a time period for the bishop to answer questions from the youth. I was rather surprised this year when Bishop Johnson asked, if for a change, he could put the youth on the hot seat and ask them questions. He had a unique opportunity to get unsolicited advice from a quorum of youth.

Bishop Johnson has been asked by the Archbishop of Canterbury to be part of a group that will try to figure out if it is possible for dioceses to have oversight from a different primate other than the Presiding Bishop. This is a challenging topic which threatens to change the structure of the world wide Anglican Communion and the Episcopal Church forever.

I was a little surprised when the bishop asked if he could ask the youth questions. I naturally assume bishops are bishops because they are more knowledgeable about the Episcopal Church than most, have very good judgment, and are called by God. Foolishly, I wouldn’t have expected a bishop to seek the advice of forty high school students on how to handle one of the most delicate problems that has faced the Episcopal Church in years.

So often, we are guilty of writing off the opinions and viewpoints of youth. Even I, who work with youth, find myself looking elsewhere for advice. I can think of only one Episcopal Church in our diocese that has youth on the vestry. Of the twenty-two dioceses in Province IV, only two let youth vote during the diocesan convention. At least two dioceses do not even let youth attend. What Bishop Johnson recognized was that youth need to be listened to. They have quite a bit invested in the church. It is not only their church right now, but the decisions that are made today shape the church of tomorrow, the church the youth are left to run. And sometimes a fresh perspective from someone a little younger is a very valuable thing. Imagine how our education system could be changed, if teachers and school boards asked not only the parents, but also the students what they were getting out of their classes and what was and wasn’t working.

for one more day

Best selling author Mitch Albom came to speak about his new book For One More Day last week at Holy Communion. Mitch kept hearing the theme of having one more day with a loved one when people talked about his other two popular books. He didn’t speak very long, but by the end of his talk, nearly the entire packed room was moved to tears and wishing they had one more day with the loved ones that are no longer with us.

I have a kid sister. She will be twenty three-years-old in a few months and still looks up to me like she did when she was ten. Mitch made me feel a little guilty about my attitude towards Ann sometimes. I love Ann as much as any brother loves a sister, but I guess I don’t do the best job of letting her know how much I care. When she calls, I often am in the mindset of “what in world do you want this time?” She usually is just checking on me or inviting me to dinner or lunch. Yet, I write her off. I almost always put her after my friends and I can’t seem to figure out why. Ann’s a neat girl, cool as can be.

Mitch talked about how we only beg for that one more day when it is too late. It’s not too late. There are so many wonderful people in our lives that we have another day with. I feel so foolish now after all those years of getting upset with my father for wanting the family to have a sit down dinner every night. I was always putting up a fight claiming I had to be out cruising the neighborhood with the local rug rats of my hood. Mitch reminded us of the importance of the personal relationships between people. Every day is a new invitation to spend one more day with those loved ones in our lives. John Wayne once said, “Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It’s perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we’ve learned something from yesterday.” Tomorrow is my opportunity to tell my sister I love her.

A Prayer of Thanksgiving

Dear God,

Thank you for this wonderful and new day.

Thank you for the way that the cool fall breeze chills my skin as you let me know that you are with me.

Thank you for the friends that I have, who without their honesty, patience, and love, I would not be the person I am today.

Thank you for my family who shines when I do well, and helps me up when I fall down.

Thank you for the youth that I work with. Their willingness to embrace the world inspires me everyday.

Thank you for the light you provide in my life, for continuing to bless me when I turn my back, and your open arms that are always ready to accept me for me.

Thank you for the talents and gifts which I have been blessed with.

And thank you for all that I have in my life.

Thank you.

The Power of Love

I would say my friend Logan is deep into Christian spirituality, but I wouldn’t call Logan a Christian in the way that one would traditionally define a Christian. Logan is a very spiritual person who is taking classes to be certified as a spiritual counselor. Most of my friends spend a good portion of their day thinking about fantasy football, the Heisman Trophy watch, or where to meet nice girls. So, for me, it was a real treat to be able to spend a three hour drive home from the lake in profound theological debate.

Logan is turned off from Christianity because of how exclusive some Christians can be and by the use of fear in trying to spread Christianity. In sermons at different churches, he continually hears a message of “do this because Jesus says so.” Sometimes I hear that same message too. And even more often, I am guilty of spreading that message as well.

So often, I find myself coming up with rules and regulations for the world according to “John Burruss.” I judge others because they bend and break my rules. Sharing my rules seems to be the only logical way to have others conform to what I believe will make this world a better place. I forget the true value of what it means to be a Christian.

I often look at some of my friends and judge them. I think they party too much, they don’t have their priorities in order, or a plethora of other standards that I use to criticize their standard of living. And when I do this, I keep myself from doing the very thing I am called as a Christian to do; to love them, and love them unconditionally. Instead I let my own pride and ego separate me from my friends. Like everyone else, I want my life to be meaningful and important and to make a positive impact in this world. This story of Zacchaeus reminds me of the power of love.

Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector in the Bible. Everyone hated the tax collectors and probably most people tried to change Zacchaeus by sharing with him their personal views of the world and why tax collecting was wrong. Yet Jesus loved Zacchaeus and he sold half of his possesions and followed Him. Love has the power to change this world. I only hope I can harness that power.

Changing the Routine

Since I work for a church, my week begins on Sunday morning at the 9:00 a.m. worship service. And this week started off on the wrong foot. After pressing my snooze button one too many times, I found myself arriving at church late and sneaking into the back of the nave for a seat just a few rows from the very back. As an Episcopalian, I have gotten in that routine of sitting in almost the exact spot every week, even to the point of feeling spite when someone snags my seat.

What I found by sitting in the back of the church was how powerful and magnificent our choir could sing. Our choir sits in the loft of the church, but their voices have a difficult time reaching across the nave. I was in for a real treat this Sunday with the children singing with the adults. It may be my sensitive side, but I was honestly moved to tears during the offertory.

I suspect that nothing was too special about Sunday. The choir probably always sings this beautifully and because I have fallen into the routine of sitting up front, every Sunday I miss out. Now I am not suggesting that we all get up and shuffle around our churches this Sunday. That might give some of the cradle Episcopalians that have been sitting in the same seat since the 1928 Book of Common Prayer was written a heart attack. But I am suggesting that when the actions in our lives become routine, we begin to miss the beauty of the world we live in. We drive to work the same way every day and ignore everything around us except for the path ahead of us. We recite the Lord’s Prayer without actually acknowledging what the words are saying to us or what we are really praying.

This week I challenge you all to be more intentional about the daily routines of your life. Take the back road to school or to the office. Look at your parents, your children, your wife, or your friends, and notice how wonderful a person he or she truly is. And if you are really feeling gutsy, find a new place to sit in church. See how the word reaches you from an entirely new place.

Sitting Still in Silence

I have been watching the television show Lost lately. The show is about a group of passengers on a flight from Sydney to Los Angles whose plane crashes on an island in the Pacific. Some how there are 48 survivors and they are alone on a beautiful island. The refuges become restless and bored with nothing to do but gather food and water and we gather the feeling that there is no entertainment or ways to keep their lives busy.

Watching Lost has made me realize, this is a feeling I have never had. We have established social systems that do not allow for idle time. From the earliest ages, young children have established schedules from 2-year-old schools following with play dates on Mondays & Wednesdays, and piano lessons once a week. Family dinners are becoming less frequent and stress levels are rising every year. High school youth are expected to play multiple sports, musical instruments, participate in social clubs, and somehow find time to participate in church youth groups, but only after everything else is finished.

Right now I am on our youth fall retreat on Kentucky Lake. We began our day with a short five or ten minute Morning Prayer service. Since the goal of this weekend is to have everyone slow down their busy lives a little, I was very intentional about silence after each prayer. I have obviously forgotten how difficult it is to be silent. I found myself unable to sit still for as long as I intended, but instead moved through the service faster than I wanted to. Silence and being still became a challenging task.

I think silence is important and reflection is necessary in our lives. The few times in my life when I have really been able to slow down, I have found it much easier to hear that still small voice in my head. I have been able to find my calling without feeling too helpless and lost. As we spend our time on Kentucky Lake trying to slow down our busier lives, I challenge anyone who reads this to do the same. Try sitting still for five minutes. It really is much more difficult than I ever thought.

On the Canterbury Trail - Part II

After spending the night in Holmsbury, St. Mary, we awoke to set our eyes on Canterbury. Canterbury is the home of the worldwide Anglican Communion and when we finally arrived that evening, we felt as if we had accomplished something great on our pilgrimage. Since we had spent the entire previous day with nothing but our own sense of direction, a twenty-year-old map, and the presence of God, we were fully transformed into true pilgrims on the Canterbury trail, ready and waiting for what God had in store for us upon our arrival.

Walking through the Cathedral in Canterbury served to be more powerful and magnificent than I ever would have expected. The stairs that headed from the nave up to the quire had been worn down from hundreds of thousands of pilgrimages over the years. Just behind the quire rested a monument representing the four swords that murdered Thomas Becket. We talked about the situation in which Thomas Becket had been murdered. What we all realized was that Becket had willingly unlocked the Cathedral doors to make a statement, while knowing people were coming for his head.

I wonder a lot of the time, what I really do hold dearest in my life. I talk a lot about my faith, and working with young people in a church, I am forced to reflect on my faith all the time. But is my faith so important that I would willingly leave the Cathedral doors unlocked, just like Thomas Becket? It seems more often than not, I put my pride before anything else. My ego just seems to get in the way of all that I deep down am trying to accomplish.

Heavenly father, help me to leave my ego behind and put my heart forward so that I can better serve you so when that time comes to unlock my doors, I am ready to put you before all else. Amen

On the Canterbury Trail

On the fifth anniversary of one of the most horrible tragedies of my lifetime, I have chosen instead to write about one of the most powerful experiences of my summer. You might feel this is unfair, and today is a day that we all should remember. Believe me, I have thought about 9/11 a lot today, but I probably have nothing new to add that we all haven’t heard before, and I feel I need to think of something else.

On June 30^th, 2006 we pilgrims from Memphis on our Journey to Adulthood pilgrimage arrived at a youth hostel off of a dirt road in Dorking, England. Our guide had the GPS system in our rental car, but this hostel was really off the beaten path and after several hours of looking for our hostel, we drove down a dirt road for close to half of a mile to find a small guest house in the middle of the woods. Several of the young men that I was traveling with had recently seen the Quentin Tarantino movie Hostel which was a horror movie about a hostel in Europe, and I believe everyone was just a little bit nervous about our accommodations that night.

We pilgrims were on the Canterbury Trail and after a tough night of sleep we awoke to continue on our journey. Our guide had made reservations at a hostel about 12 miles away in Holmsbury, St. Mary. This guide had never been to this part of England, but he assured us that everything would be alright and in the morning, found a local survey map of the area from the one person who was not in our group and staying in the hostel. The map was old, but sure enough it showed us a way to our next hostel from a trail that led out the back of the hostel we had just stayed in. Everyone was optimistic and packed a light lunch and began our hike along the Canterbury Trail.

It soon became clear that both our hike would be extremely difficult and our guide had no clue where he was going. The trail forked nearly every quarter mile and at each turn we guessed using our best judgment which way we should go. The journey was beautiful and exciting and ultimately very scary. We had put our blind faith in a clueless leader to make sure we arrived to our desired location and were able to be fed and have a place to sleep. After nine hours of hiking and what we estimated was between 12 and 13 miles, we walked out of the woods to see a sign for the Holmsbury, St. Mary youth hostel only 500 yards up the road.

During our whole day of hiking, we began to realize that our journey was not our own, but that we were apart of something greater. For the first time in my life, an entire group of people who were so used to being shepherds became sheep. Everyone learn to trust one another and for one short day we worked together like one person, like one body. No one struggled to make all of the decisions and no one got mad at anyone else. Just like pilgrims of the last one thousand years traveling along the Canterbury Trail, we walked aimlessly trusting that God would provide us all that we needed. We might end up in place we wouldn’t want to stay, but we would have what we needed. And for one day, I really knew what it felt like to be that one body of Christ.

The Reason behind Barefoot Spirituality

I used to have really long and wild red hair. After I got my first buzz haircut in eighth grade, my hair continued to grow back curly and untamed. Teachers told me to brush my hair, and believe me I did. My hair style just never worked out quite like anyone anticipated. The way my face would color was quite bizarre and by college, I looked like Lion-o from the 1980’s cartoon Thundercats. I used to wear a ratty old Grateful Dead t-shirt and some dark green cargo shorts from Old Navy. Going to college in the cornfields of Indiana proved to be quite an experience and as soon as I stepped on the campus of Purdue, I stood out like a sore thumb.

I remember walking to a physics class during the fall of my sophomore year. I lived in the Phi Tau house across the street from the physics building. Since I lived so close, I often waited until the last minute to get ready and that day I couldn’t find my shoes, but I still had to go to class.

Maybe it was growing up in a relatively large city, or my southern flare, but I obviously wasn’t like most other Midwesterners. This was the first occasion that I really remember hearing the question, “John, why do you have to be so different?” People were confused with my ways. Most students wouldn’t walk out of their rooms without gel in their hair and I walked out barefoot.

I wasn’t that different than the students at Purdue and the friends in my fraternity. In fact we had a lot more in common than not, and I still remain great friends with many of those people today. But I didn’t see having to be the same in every aspect a requirement or priority of friendship. We didn’t have to like all the same music. Nick liked the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync and I despised both of those groups. I wouldn’t even listen to Metallica. But that wasn’t what was important. We shared similar values, although not always the same, and we listened to each other. And this was enough to teach me that just because everyone else is wearing their shoes doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with walking around barefoot.

Conflict Resolution

Last week I had the chance to catch up with a good friend of mine who is an Episcopal priest in New York. My friend has been receiving a lot of criticism and flack about his own theological opinions especially with all that is going on with the Episcopal Church today. My friend and I disagree on a few theological questions, just as he disagrees with the Bishop of New York. Yet they still have a great working relationship and we have a great friendship.

Every time I turn on the television or open the newspaper, I find more stories about struggles and conflicts. We have horrible wars in our world over the fight for who believes they best understand the word of God. The word of God has been wrestled for years with more interpretations and opinions formed than probably any other topic out there.

“God has spoken, and the rest is commentary, right?” A friend of mine sent me a copy of a book called Velvet Elvis and these were the last words on the back cover of the book that have been resonating in my head since I read them. We often listen, read, and discuss God’s word but we often forget that this is only commentary. I constantly find myself believing that my views are more correct and even better than other people’s views all the time. And this is when I begin to get myself in trouble.

Jesus says in Mathew 18:20 “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” We don’t always have to agree with our brothers and sisters. But when we come together to study and learn with those who are different, the dialogue begins to teach us more about ourselves and are own spirituality. We learn more about who we are becoming.

We often forget that not everyone around us thinks exactly like us, but who ever said we all have to agree just to get along?