The Jensen Tribe

Seeing Thestrals*

2010-07-23T04:18:00.000-07:00

Now forgive me for being morbid, but for the last month or so there's something I've wanted to process out loud. It's something that will make most of us not want to read any further, so ingrained is our avoidance of the clear reality of each of our lives. It's about facing grief, loss and the inevitability of the universal constant of 'the end'.

Death's not all bad. Don't get me wrong, it's painful in layers that i never even knew were there, but I'm coming to see that it adds lavish depth to the colors of our lives. I've been thinking of it as an intensity, a vibrancy even, in each life-picture that comes as a result of including the sumptuousness of rich dark shadows. Without the shadows the image is flat, lifeless almost.

These thoughts don't come out of nowhere, obviously. I've just navigated another first. Father's Day without a father. It also happened to be his birthday. Not an easy season. No standing in the card aisle for me this year, awkwardly trying to pick just the right phrase that said not too much or not too little. There's a strange kind of loss even in foregoing sad little rituals isn't there? And then there's coming home yesterday to a mum who's had her double bed moved out and is now sleeping in a single surrounded by photos of together times. It hurts my heart. But it's not just our family's pot of loss, there's more.

Every Wednesday morning I knock on the doors of people's crisis. I enter a time-locked moment where they no longer have control. Somehow a giant PAUSE button got clicked without their consent. It seems to have caught me off-guard, but I have not yet met a patient who believes they ought to be lying in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. The light-box of hospitalization simply highlights their confusion. No-one deserves their lot. I've lost track of the number of bedridden people that insist they are really healthy. Shocked that their bodies are not behaving according the the script they made up in their heads. Illness, injury, accident, death are entirely rude. Inconsiderately spontaneous.

But here's the thing. Here's the benefits of seeing thestrals. We are fast-tracked into reality without the option of remaining unthinkingly impassive to the fact that we are physically temporal, limited beings. It astounds me how I choose to navigate life with the made-up notion that the universe exists for my personal happiness and benefit, and that I am in control of my destiny. It doesn't. I am not. Ask anyone who has stared at a ceiling with an IV in their arm, or who has followed a loved one as they've been wheeled down the corridor into ICU, or who has picked up 'that call'.

We do have every right to ignore the thestrals, to live in a make believe world of our own choosing. It's probably paler (in a pastel colors kind of way). But then we also have the right, if we're brave enough, honest enough, to maybe choose to live every day alive, right into the corners. Shadows and all.

*thestrals - for those who haven't read the Harry Potter series, are magical creatures that can only be seen by those who have watched death in action. To all others they are invisible.

ANGRY PROPHETS ::

2009-03-27T10:15:00.000-07:00

It has to be the first time in my life that when reading Isaiah my attention was caught and transfixed, not on what I thought I would find (angry old shouty Isaiah, lambasting the wretched Israelites for their sin and unfaithfulness), but on the God who’s message he brought.

I am captured, captivated, torn and tearful reading the words of love, of unashamed devotion that God has for his people. It is almost too much. The promises of help. The commitment to renewal, restoration. Speaking to their fears with hope and unending, undeserved love. Reading the words, it feels like I have stumbled across a lover’s letter, it is tender and intimate. I hardly know this God, and yet here he is, revealing himself to me.

17.5 million people...7 on the beach

2009-02-28T21:54:00.000-08:00

It strikes me as rather absurd that in a city that is cradled by snow-capped mountains and washed on it's verges by the Pacific ocean, that we are so busy doing 'life' that we forget to live. It is only because Phil is doing a Saturday class, that I have for the first time since I can't even remember, set foot on the beach 45 minutes from our house.

There was the rhythmic silence of the pounding surf and the cries of overhead pelicans. The distant splashing of seals in the sparkling water, and lazy sailboats thinking about making the trip to a fog shrouded Catalina Island. It was a place forgotten by people who have too much to do to notice the clouds pass overhead, too much to do to listen to the kids giggling madly as they run from the breakers.

For two hours I stopped. Thank God. Each breath of the salty air brought a measure of calm, of healing, of presence. I sat simply soaking in the bright detail of every grain, every broken shell, every particle of the Sabbath moment I was in, and somewhere in my crushed little soul I felt deeply alive.

Really?

2009-01-25T08:25:00.000-08:00

"Do you really love Jesus? No, really. If you look at the last week of your life, the choices you've made the things that you've said, could you really say that you love Jesus?"

It was the first thing Dave Feiser said to me last week. Cut to last night. Mike Erre at Rock Harbor...

"So if we say we love Jesus, and we've sung a hundred thousand worship songs and we tell everyone that we're living our lives in the light of his teachings...then let me ask when it was that we last picked up the Bible and, for ourselves - not for class, not for credit - just leafed through, read and reflected on the only four attested accounts of his life and teaching? We say we follow him, we say we love him, do we really even know him?"

...

Now this isn't some kind of self induced guilt trip, some 'try harder' moment. This is one of those points in time where lucidity and clarity rule. Where the inconsistency of my private life and my public self are uncomfortably sharing the same seat. I don't like it. At all. I am a hypocrite, an actor. I want to follow Jesus, I am convinced by the historical truth of him, and compelled by the reality of his existence and person. I want to follow him, to relate to him, but my relationship is anemic.

Sam asked last night if it was one of the ten commandments to read your Bible and pray every day. "No" I said, "It would be a bit odd if just because I was your mum I made a law that said that you had to speak to me every day. It's not a law, it's just something you do when you have a relationship with God, because you want to spend time with Him, knowing what he knows, learning to live and love like does." Then I heard myself.

I heard that to know and not to do is not to know. I agree. I want to know. So, not in some sense of legalistic weirdness, but in an attempt to know Jesus for myself, so that I can love him, follow his teaching, live out his love, I want to spend time, commit to spend time with him. (OK, so I know some of you might be shocked that having moved half way across the world to obey God's call, it is not my practice to be faithful in daily spending uninterrupted moments with our God. Well, please accept the broken truth of me.)

In order to help me focus on this commitment, I am planning every Tuesday morning this semester, from about 8:45am, to read and pray sat outside the Talbot lounge. It's going in my planner this morning. If anyone out there wants to gather, not to talk, not to chat, simply to be together reading, journalling, praying, in an openness to hear from the Spirit of God, through the life of Jesus, by word of God, then you are more than welcome!

I did not come to seminary to stuff my head full of facts about God, I came to have my life shaped by him. Sadly I've found that sometimes his intentions for me get overlooked in the business of being Christians rather than the business of following Christ. This semester, God help me, I plan on following Jesus. Really.

Business as a calling: Part 1 Are we asking the wrong question?

2008-12-27T21:23:00.000-08:00

I recently had to write a paper on business as a calling. I was a little surprised at how passionately I felt about the subject seeing as it is 18 months since I left Procter & Gamble. The question that the paper posed was whether the business world is an appropriate environment for a Christian to be called into.

While reading for the essay I was struck by how many books there are on Christians and the workplace that focus on the question "What is my calling?". But is that the right question? I don't believe that it is, and actually it reveals a deep rooted misconception about the nature of calling. When we become a Christian we are called. At that precise moment our calling for our entire life is clarified, we are to be a follower of Christ, a disciple. By disciple I mean as defined in Matt 28, someone who lives in obedience to all that Christ has commanded. This is fully orbed discipleship that is not just focused on evangelism, but on living a life that is pleasing to God in every aspect, including how we work.

So being a suitably argumentative soul I redefined the question for the essay. The question is not what is my calling, but where is my calling to be exercised? In other words our calling is clear, it is the context that needs to be clarified. All this might sound like hairsplitting over semantics but it is much more significant than that. It may not be a conscious decision, but at some level asking the wrong question drives us to make a false distinction between our spiritual life and our work life. It makes it possible for our workplace to be a context where we do not feel "called" where in reality it is. Oddly enough that is the very thing that many of these books are trying to argue against.

Starting with the right question is important, but what about the answer? As I worked through the essay I came to the conclusion that the business world is an excellent context to pursue the call to discipleship in. I'll try and chop up my essay into some bite sized chunks over the next couple of weeks. Hopefully some of you will find it useful...

Back to school

2008-09-01T07:59:00.000-07:00

Well it's 8am and Labor Day (which, ironically means that no-one is working!) anyhoo...Phil and I are back into the Fall semester as of Wednesday gone, Eve is now fully immersed in her new pre-school in the mornings, and Sam goes back to school on Thursday! Yes, for the more astute, you'll realize that this week will be a touch tricky, but have no fear...Sam will be taking Exegesis in the Epistles with Professor Clint Arnold to pass the time of day, nothing like a bit of Greek to prep you for 3rd grade :o)

I took our lovely 2 out for an orange juice yesterday and asked them what the best bit of the summer has been. We walked through all the visitors, family and friends, then all the day trips and holiday clubs, oddities and Olympics, but out of eleven weeks of school drought and summer fun we have a final winner...(drum roll please!) And the winner is, a tie between;

Taking Aunty Heather and Uncle Adrian to Chuck-E-Cheese, and
our road trip to Pismo Beach, all on our very own.

Even talking about those two events made them giggle insanely, it was so sweet. So, now that we have some closure on the happy memories (though they won't be forgotten soon), we're moving on again to investing ourselves in; our studies, wholehearted community at seminary, at church and within our college LIFEgroups. September looks busy, very busy, but also very exciting. It starts today with an open house for all Talbot students; grill on, drinks chilling, picnic blankets out on the lawn and a big old smiles on our faces...roll on Autumn.

Sam's school autobiography project :o)

2008-06-20T13:03:00.000-07:00

Sam wrote the following summary of his life so far for his school project, which he presented to the class (along with everyone else) and got great feedback. Well done Sam!

All about ME! Hi my name is Sam Jensen. I am nearly 8 years old. I was born in Newcastle, England, on July 15th 2000 at 4.20pm. My favorite color is yellow, a very bright yellow. My favorite food is ham and pineapple pizza, it’s so tasty I can’t describe it. My favorite TV shows are Ben10 and SpongeBob. The very best holiday was when I went to France in a tent with some of my family and friends, with a swimming pool close to us. It rained on the tent at night and I really liked it because the sound made me drift off to sleep. I am scared of the dark but my red alien light makes me think about other things. What I really like about my family is that we have great times and we usually have fun together. My mum and dad are the best chefs in the world. We have a swing in our back yard and I like sitting on it, eating ice cream. My friends names are Drayke, Michael, Matthew, Madison, Carina, Jacob, James, Charlie and a whole other bunch here, and some others in England. I have a sister named Eve, she is a very playful child. We both like doing gymnastics, it is a lot of fun. My mum has a little garden in the back that we get food from. My favorite comic is the Beano, so I have a Beano room - I like it so much! My Beano arrives every 3 weeks on Thursdays. I am having a lot of fun here in America, I miss my friends too though, but the flight here was worth it. It is very different from England, but I really like it.
When I grow up… When I grow up I would like to be a swimming teacher or a karate teacher. I really like fighting (pretend) which is why I like karate. I like swimming because it is fun to do and after my lessons I get to jump of the board and splash around. When I grow up I would like to live in England because they have cool parks as well as great playgrounds. There are also things I would like to learn, like how to water-ski and how to ride a jet-ski. When I grow up I would like to be the kind of person that helps people, people in need.

A Freight train a car and some teeny tiny bits of metal!

2008-05-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

OK, the freight train thing happened a couple of months back, but for those who didn't hear the story...this is it.

So we're coming home late from church up Valley View, there's a RR crossing parallel to Stage Road. Looks like some guy had taken the turn early and basically gone off the road and onto the rails. The car engine is smoking, and he's jumping up and down and throwing stones at it. I think it would be fair to say he is rather agitated that his car is stuck and immovable on the tracks. By the time we turn the car round to help out, someone else has stopped and is phoning 911. (I really thought the police would get there and move the thing before anything happened. I forgot how many trains there are!)

So 2 minutes later, 'ding ding ding ding', the lights turn red, the barriers are lowered and we know, a train is coming. So Phil is standing by the track waving his mobile phone like a mad thing. It's the only light source we have! The train is sounding its horn and I'm yelling 'get away from the track!', he runs the 10 metres to the car and this huge, monster of a double decker freight train, with probably over 80 flat-bed carts laden with shipping containers, comes charging through!

The light at the front of the train lights up the black car on the tracks, the horn is deafening, the brakes are screeching and there's nothing that can be done. This awful sense of inevitibility and unreality. Then there's this 'SmAcK', and sparks are flying, the train loses not even a teeny bit of momentum, but the car just gets crumpled like a bit of paper underneath the front engine, and dragged, spitting yellow sparks, out of sight. Slowly, slowly the freight that's passing slows down and finally stops dead.

Adrenaline is not in short supply! The car owner is so full of it, that the swearing won't suffice, and so he literally starts to run down the road yelling like a madman -like that will make it better. This is when the police turn up. First four cars, then two more, lights flashing, cops everywhere. The owner on the ground, spreadeagled, then cuffed - they're not taking any chances with a man that angry. And we sit in our car, hemmed in by police cars, flashing lights, broken glass and weeny bits of metal.

We are at pains to reassure the children that it was just a car that got squished and everyone is alright, and Sam says 'That was freaky!' and Eve says 'Well!...I am really disappointed!' I ask why and she says 'That angry man will need to get a new car.'

Anniversaries and After Dinner Speeches

2008-05-19T19:54:00.000-07:00

Recently I (Cj) was asked to speak at the end of term Talbot dinner, it's been almost a year now since we first visited to figure out this whole
America thing...I thought that it might be fun to share it for those who didn't catch the live version! Enjoy :o)

The journey
Long before sunrise, 276 days ago, we bundled our sleepy children into a taxi, waved goodbye to our city, our families, our friends and everything we knew. We arrived at the British Airways desk and checked in 12 bags with our hopes, expectations and our future. Then sat down and waited for boarding. Like so many of you sitting here tonight, we were well past the point of no return. But we knew that God was good. We had no home to run back to, no job, our children had been taken out of their schools and clubs, our ministry responsibilities were being carried out by someone else. It was terrifying, exhilarating all at once. But we knew that God was good. What I expected was that after 14 hours of flying I would land safely in a different country and begin a new chapter of life that would be challenging but at some level quite familiar, after all, it was God that had clearly lead us here, I was with my family, and knew the language. But… during the flight, we somehow got diverted, everyone who has ever moved here will know this, because when we landed at what looked like LAX we discovered that we had ended up, not just on another continent, but on a completely different planet!

The reality
In the last two semesters my adjustment to living in Southern California has come in layers, at first my overarching priority was simply to bless the people of California by driving on the appropriate side of the road! Next came trying to understand the language, and working on being understood. There were words I had to substitute, sometimes entire phrases. Jelly was not jelly anymore, but jello, and jam was not jam, but jelly. I’ve learnt that when folks talked about the need for the baby to be pacified they did not mean that they were about to use a Tazer on it. That was really reassuring! The academic vocabulary was just as mind boggling, University was now school, Lecturer’s were Professors, Professors were Chairs, essays were papers, terms were semesters, marks were grades and so much more! WebReg with its funny little acronyms and numbers and all the unwritten rules - though now second nature - were a horrible nightmare for a non-American, non-Biolan, non-Talbot first-timer.

Oh, and then I got to class, my first class, my very first class, after never having taken theology, being out of education for 12 years and having 5 years at home squidging play dough and smearing paint, was Theo 3 with Dr Robert Saucy. Oh yes! Let me just say that, I thank the Lord for dictionary.com, because while everyone around me was grappling intelligently with the theological implications of the hypostatic union, I was online just trying to figure out how to spell it!

Community
I knew I’d miss stuff, like friends and family, but I had no idea I would miss things like a great British curry, or the simple need for touch or a hug. What was odd was the dislocation of identity, I was simply another face, no history, no connection in anyway to any other person. Those first few months were uncomfortable, I had to confront what I valued, was I actually able to bear real spiritual fruit without the trappings of ministry to shore up my worth? I also had to face the ugliness of my European prejudice against Americans. I like you all a whole lot better now! What made a difference? Three significant things; Prayer on the Patio, Talbot Wives, and those wonderfully friendly people who were willing to say hi and connect when they arrived for class. This large amorphous organization that is Talbot, became a handful of familiar faces, real relationships, people at prayer.

Blessing God
I understand that Orthodox Jews have a particular saying to bless God when entering or leaving a house of study, so when I walk through the door of Meyers … I can bless God for the real unadulterated joy of this gift of time to study him. I can bless him for the stripping down, restoration, intense challenges - and thanks lately to Hermeneutics – I can bless him for the discovery of the depth of my own ignorance. I can bless him for the growing friendships, authenticity, faith, the godly wisdom and evidential faith of the staff as they pour out their knowledge and experience. I can bless him even for the tears, the silence, unexpected deliverance and simply his grace in providing in every need for our little family, so that we can be where he wants us to be. And finally, like so many of you of you, I can bless him that this year he has walked us a few more steps to the next point of no return. And I know that he is good.

Cultural learnings from America

2007-08-07T22:35:00.000-07:00

We have been in the US now for 21 days which fully qualifies us to comment on what we can learn from the US. There are three questions I have been able to answer since coming to the US that I was unlikely to be able to come to a conclusion on in the UK.

Question 1 - What is philosophy useful for?
I have found three main purposes for Philosophy since coming to the US. The first is to provide a framework by which to understand and assess the world around us. The second is to fix fridges with, and the final one is to kill black widow spiders. There may well be more but I have only had my book for seven days and I have found it an invaluable tool on all three fronts.

Question 2 - Is it possible to walk unnoticed in a library while wearing flip flops?
Emphatically no. It does not matter what style of walking you choose it still sounds like you are beating a bald man soundly around the head with a fish. The quicker the walk the more violent the beating.

Question 3 - Can a US voice activated telephone menu speak English?
Again it was a no. No matter how politely, slowly or loudly I talked in my beautiful English accent it was not good enough. So I was reduced to putting on my best Californian accent (which is stunningly convincing - or at least Verizon think so) to order my broadband setup.

So there you have it. Three nuggets of information not available in the UK. I will enrich your lives with more as they come along.

One life, two questions

2007-07-24T14:43:00.000-07:00

A lot of people have been asking about my reasons for leaving Procter & Gamble to go to bible college. I guess I can understand why, it is a bit of a radical shift. So if you are interested or care, here's why.

One life...One shot. No retakes.

I have often thought it would be nice if life had an 'Undo' button, like all good software packages have. Those of you who know my ability to put my foot in it will fully understand why I think it would be nice. Unfortunately there is no 'Undo' button, this is not a dress rehearsal, it is the main event. So I need to be intentional about how I live my life and what I live my life for. If I am not intentional then the risk is that I will find myself pursuing things that may be immediately satisfying but not ultimately fulfilling. What I mean is that money, power, relationships, all these things can define and shape our lives and at the end of those lives we may well question why we let them set the agenda. Two questions have defined my life.

Two Questions...What am I for? What to do about Christ?

Firstly, What am I for? What is my purpose? Generations of philosophers have spent their lives arguing over that one. So bear with me while I give a very simplistic response. I believe what I am made for, is to be in a living relationship with the God of the universe. Not some abstract or theoretical concept, but a day to day faith that impacts every aspect of life, the good bits and the bad bits. Because real life is not all chocolate cake and champagne, (more's the pity) real life also includes struggle and loss. I want a faith that goes there with me...but faith in what?

Well, that leads to the second question. What to do about Christ? Now you can think what you want of Christ, but please don't think that he was just a good man. He claimed to be God (John 14:6)! In my world that only presents me with one of two options: either he is God or a very disturbed / evil individual...nice and good are not options here. If the decision is that he is God then that has big implications for how we live our lives (you can read more on this at Knowing God Personally ). It is a longer story about how I worked through that and how I came to the conclusion that Christ is God and responded to His love. But once that step was taken it has had massive implications for the priorities that govern my life and the directions I have chosen.

So why leave P&G?

It is not like working for P&G is unchristian :o) Yes, all those weird rumours about P&G sponsoring the church of Satan were false. There is no sacrifical altar at the reception desk (ok if you don't believe me...http://christiananswers.net/q-eden/edn-r012.html). As a Christian the question should always be, "What do I think God has called me to do?" and then to do it to the best of your ability. For me over the last 9 years that has meant working at P&G, and I have enjoyed it, it has grown me in my faith, and as a person. But now it is time to set that to one side and be obedient to the next chapter I believe God has in store for me myself and Christine. That involves taking time out to learn more thoroughly what we believe so that we can communicate and share that effectively with others within and outside the church.

So why am I leaving P&G? One life, one shot and a desire to be obedient to God.