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Friday, May 21, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Cannonball Sunday
Sunday was Baptism Sunday at RCC (Redwood Covenant Church).
After a really cool Children's lesson:
I went to "big people church" and was blessed beyond measure. The sermon started with a video of a child jumping into the baptismal. Hence the name of this blog and the Sermons title today.
Pastor Doug spoke on having an eagerness to get into the water. At RCC, we practice family baptism. There was a father who was baptized as a sign of his faith in Christ along with his children as a sign they where under his roof and would be raised in the faith. After the service, there was an invitation for anyone who wanted to baptized and hadn't done so to come down. No one came, the service ended, the worship team played, people chatted, and the sanctuary began to empty. Until more people came down to be baptized. Among them was the mother of the family who had been baptized earlier in the service. When asked why she wanted to be baptized, she said, "I am tired of fighting what has always been." It was amazing to see the faith of the father and the faith of the children used by God to bring another daughter of his to a public confession of her faith. To allow her to "stop fighting, and accept what has always been."
Serving Him with all of you just from further away,
Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau
I went to "big people church" and was blessed beyond measure. The sermon started with a video of a child jumping into the baptismal. Hence the name of this blog and the Sermons title today.
Pastor Doug spoke on having an eagerness to get into the water. At RCC, we practice family baptism. There was a father who was baptized as a sign of his faith in Christ along with his children as a sign they where under his roof and would be raised in the faith. After the service, there was an invitation for anyone who wanted to baptized and hadn't done so to come down. No one came, the service ended, the worship team played, people chatted, and the sanctuary began to empty. Until more people came down to be baptized. Among them was the mother of the family who had been baptized earlier in the service. When asked why she wanted to be baptized, she said, "I am tired of fighting what has always been." It was amazing to see the faith of the father and the faith of the children used by God to bring another daughter of his to a public confession of her faith. To allow her to "stop fighting, and accept what has always been."
Serving Him with all of you just from further away,
Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau
a few quick words on the Muppets
Yesterday was the twentieth anniversary of the passing of Jim Henson. Anyone who knows me, knows that the Muppets have a special place in my heart. I am not sure if I have every spelled out why that is, and at the risk of repeating myself, I am going to talk briefly of why the Muppets are so important to me.
December of 1989 my father contracted Leukemia. July of 1990 my father went home to heaven. The seven or so months in between are some the most memorable and impactfull of my childhood. One memory I have is watching The Jim Henson Hour with my family in Stanford.
During the illness my dad was an out patient at Stanford Medical. He stayed in an apartment with my mom, while my brother and I lived with our Grandparents. Children weren't allowed in the apartment as it was a part of Stanford Medical and was occupied solely with their patients (kids being carriers of all kinds of germs and such). The ritual was this, Mom drives down on Friday, picks us up, drive back to Stanford, spend Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday morning visiting at the apartment, drive back to Auburn, got to school on Monday.
Friday nights the family would be in front of the television tuned into TGIF on ABC. Among the programs was the aforementioned Jim Henson Hour. Things were for that hour like they had always been.
With my dad's condition worsening, Saturdays were often spent with my mom and brother in town, to give dad some rest. Sundays were spent driving. One of the precious few times our family was all together and things were normal were on those Friday nights.
Jim would pass in May, my father would return to his heavenly home in June. 1990 wasn't a good year for my childhood. Three or so years back I was at Disneyland talking with a good friend of mine. I shared with him how even today watching the Muppets takes me back to being a kid. He summed it all up nicely. "Everything is right with the world when the Muppets are on TV." We then went to go watch the Muppet 4-D Movie in Disney's California Adventure Park.
The weird thing is last year at this time I found myself reflecting on the Muppets more than usual. And the same thing happened this year. The last two weeks or so, I have had Muppets on the brain. It is probably coincidence as the date May 16 wasn't really on my radar until last year.
December of 1989 my father contracted Leukemia. July of 1990 my father went home to heaven. The seven or so months in between are some the most memorable and impactfull of my childhood. One memory I have is watching The Jim Henson Hour with my family in Stanford.
During the illness my dad was an out patient at Stanford Medical. He stayed in an apartment with my mom, while my brother and I lived with our Grandparents. Children weren't allowed in the apartment as it was a part of Stanford Medical and was occupied solely with their patients (kids being carriers of all kinds of germs and such). The ritual was this, Mom drives down on Friday, picks us up, drive back to Stanford, spend Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday morning visiting at the apartment, drive back to Auburn, got to school on Monday.
Friday nights the family would be in front of the television tuned into TGIF on ABC. Among the programs was the aforementioned Jim Henson Hour. Things were for that hour like they had always been.
With my dad's condition worsening, Saturdays were often spent with my mom and brother in town, to give dad some rest. Sundays were spent driving. One of the precious few times our family was all together and things were normal were on those Friday nights.
Jim would pass in May, my father would return to his heavenly home in June. 1990 wasn't a good year for my childhood. Three or so years back I was at Disneyland talking with a good friend of mine. I shared with him how even today watching the Muppets takes me back to being a kid. He summed it all up nicely. "Everything is right with the world when the Muppets are on TV." We then went to go watch the Muppet 4-D Movie in Disney's California Adventure Park.
The weird thing is last year at this time I found myself reflecting on the Muppets more than usual. And the same thing happened this year. The last two weeks or so, I have had Muppets on the brain. It is probably coincidence as the date May 16 wasn't really on my radar until last year.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Rambling Road
Time for another not so regular, not so structured edition of what has been bouncing through my mind.
Last month, I heard a sermon on Luke 24, The Emaus Road. The analogy was given of when Jesus opening the eyes of His traveling companions to the plan of God to standing on a peak and looking back on the trail you have just walked. This is where it all becomes clear. This is where you can look and see every twist and turn and understand why they are there. This is where the path you just walked makes sense.
Fourteen years ago I sat in the bleachers of Forest Lake Christian School's gym and argued with God. Roughly six weeks ago I sat in an airport shuttle and tried to argue with God. The gym was my point A and the shuttle my current point B.
Way back in 1996, I was a high school senior who thought he had learned it all, seen it all, and done it all. Only I knew something was amiss. There was more to this God I served, yet it was just out of reach. And so I prayed. I prayed a prayer that I would have never prayed I had I known how it would have been answered, and yet have never regretted.
My prayer was simply this: "God I want to experience you in new ways. I want you to become real in my life." Like an incredibly slow mantra, this was my daily prayer for months. Then I met a man named Tom Ives. Tom was from Royal Servants, a short term missions organization. He was there to give the talk for our weekly chapel.
I have never felt the call to be an overseas missionary, so why would I need to go "practice"? (I have been on four short term trips, and am considering a fifth.) I had no real desire to listen to what Tom had to say. It wasn't going to apply to me. Besides "these guys" come and yell and scream and say the only way to be closer to God is to raise money and go on their trip. I wasn't buying what Tom had to sell. I sat down convinced this chapel would have nothing for me.
The first words he spoke were, "Do you want to experience God in a new way? Do you want Him to become real in your life?" The next 25 minutes were spent with me trying to convince God that He was mistaken. That this was not the answer to my prayer. I whined about schedules and money and languages, each time I thought I had outsmarted God, Tom's next sentence answered my exact "problem."
It was on this trip in 1996 that I first began Children's Ministry. I played with puppets, told stories, and saw kids make decisions to follow Christ. The next fourteen years were spent volunteering in one form of CM or another.
Then the lunch and the shuttle ride were the final pieces to the puzzle.
So here I stand, perched atop a vista, looking out over the last 14 years.
I see a whale lip syncing DcTalk. There is CEF and Good News Club, picking up helium tanks, and debating whether Santa Claus should be invited to our Christmas Party or not, frosting sugar cookies without the aid of a knife, songs and games and stories, verses and water fights, learning and teaching, and sometimes learning as I teach, adding shading to cartoon houses, and complaining about Ma's "cooking", there is a commissioning service involving a jester, a cake, and the title of Ambassador of Grace Kids to Alliance Redwoods. And there is singing Baby Shark and having lunch with Scott.
Very little of that means much to anyone but myself, but it is the path that has carried me this far. As I look back I see God equipping and guiding me. As I look up, I see a path not yet taken. One if I knew what it entails, I would never have asked for. A path that I am sure I will not regret.
Serving Him alongside you, just from a little further away,
--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau
Last month, I heard a sermon on Luke 24, The Emaus Road. The analogy was given of when Jesus opening the eyes of His traveling companions to the plan of God to standing on a peak and looking back on the trail you have just walked. This is where it all becomes clear. This is where you can look and see every twist and turn and understand why they are there. This is where the path you just walked makes sense.
Fourteen years ago I sat in the bleachers of Forest Lake Christian School's gym and argued with God. Roughly six weeks ago I sat in an airport shuttle and tried to argue with God. The gym was my point A and the shuttle my current point B.
Way back in 1996, I was a high school senior who thought he had learned it all, seen it all, and done it all. Only I knew something was amiss. There was more to this God I served, yet it was just out of reach. And so I prayed. I prayed a prayer that I would have never prayed I had I known how it would have been answered, and yet have never regretted.
My prayer was simply this: "God I want to experience you in new ways. I want you to become real in my life." Like an incredibly slow mantra, this was my daily prayer for months. Then I met a man named Tom Ives. Tom was from Royal Servants, a short term missions organization. He was there to give the talk for our weekly chapel.
I have never felt the call to be an overseas missionary, so why would I need to go "practice"? (I have been on four short term trips, and am considering a fifth.) I had no real desire to listen to what Tom had to say. It wasn't going to apply to me. Besides "these guys" come and yell and scream and say the only way to be closer to God is to raise money and go on their trip. I wasn't buying what Tom had to sell. I sat down convinced this chapel would have nothing for me.
The first words he spoke were, "Do you want to experience God in a new way? Do you want Him to become real in your life?" The next 25 minutes were spent with me trying to convince God that He was mistaken. That this was not the answer to my prayer. I whined about schedules and money and languages, each time I thought I had outsmarted God, Tom's next sentence answered my exact "problem."
It was on this trip in 1996 that I first began Children's Ministry. I played with puppets, told stories, and saw kids make decisions to follow Christ. The next fourteen years were spent volunteering in one form of CM or another.
Then the lunch and the shuttle ride were the final pieces to the puzzle.
So here I stand, perched atop a vista, looking out over the last 14 years.
I see a whale lip syncing DcTalk. There is CEF and Good News Club, picking up helium tanks, and debating whether Santa Claus should be invited to our Christmas Party or not, frosting sugar cookies without the aid of a knife, songs and games and stories, verses and water fights, learning and teaching, and sometimes learning as I teach, adding shading to cartoon houses, and complaining about Ma's "cooking", there is a commissioning service involving a jester, a cake, and the title of Ambassador of Grace Kids to Alliance Redwoods. And there is singing Baby Shark and having lunch with Scott.
Very little of that means much to anyone but myself, but it is the path that has carried me this far. As I look back I see God equipping and guiding me. As I look up, I see a path not yet taken. One if I knew what it entails, I would never have asked for. A path that I am sure I will not regret.
Serving Him alongside you, just from a little further away,
--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Wonder Con pics
Monday, April 5, 2010
Choo Choo (or train of thought part 37)
I was going to title this Full Circle. A year and a half ago I was sitting on my couch watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer (by the season) and thinking, clearly I need a change. One facebook conversation and one phone call later, I was on my way up to Occidental to begin the adventure I am currently on.
Yesterday, I ditched church (Not a fan of crowds and Easter Sunday just seems so familiar to me that I don't get much out of it). Instead I drove down to SF to a comic book convention. It was good to be among "my people" again. To close out the evening I went to a sing-along screening of "Once More with Feeling" (the musical episode of Buffy). However, no major revelations came about so it's not really a full circle type thing.
The major revelation came two Thursdays ago over a lunch of poorly made Philly steak sandwiches. Scott Peterson, the Children's Pastor at the church I have been attending wanted to meet me with me about "being up front more." This was the best lunch I have ever had. And it wasn't due to the skimpy meat sandwiches. It was the moment that God used to flip the switch in my head.
God is calling me into full time Children's Ministry. Now a few of you are saying, "well duh, I thought you knew that." Others maybe totally shocked. Here is the thing. It was in talking with Scott that I realized I had the skills to do this ministry.
However, new things are scary, at least to me. So, as excited as I am about doing Children's Ministry, there is a lot that will be challenging to me.
Last Monday was the funeral service for my grandmother. (There may be a blog, but at least some pics on that sometime soon). Last weekend I went home for said service. Two ancillary activities of the trip brought mycalling into focus. The first was Three-Fold Communion at my home church in Seal Beach. The second was the shuttle ride from SFO to Santa Rosa.
If you don't know, Three-Fold is a potluck that ends with a Communion service and has a ceremonially foot washing in the middle. (yes cerimonally foot washing is a little weird-that's a blog for another day.) After the washing, the washer and the washee embrace (at least that is the tradition at my church). Then there is some hymn singing and some sharing.
I sat next to Mr. Enyart. The Enyart clan , have been a big part (there are like six kids) of Children's Ministry at Grace during the years I was there. (Three of them are now in high school and college and are going on the HS mission trip. random side note: sweet little innocent Michelle who I have known since she was six turned sixteen on Sunday. It was good time at home among family and friends, but it also made me realize just how long I had been doing CM.)
Where was I? Oh, right, Mr. Enyart shared how myself and others had been instrumental in the development of his children's faith. I was absolutely floored. Parents make the kids who they are. God changes their lives and makes them awesome servants for His kingdom. (and the Enyart kids are awesome servants). I just point them to God and sing goofy songs. For someone else, and a parent at that, to see me have an impact on his chidren's lives, showed me that God has equipped me for and wants to use me in CM.
Here is the thing. I see my sin. I see my failure. And I stay there. I think God can't use me. As long as I can remember people have been telling me that I should, assuming that I would, go into ministry. But that is a risk, and risk involves failure, and failure is uncomfortable. But without risk there is no growth. The last year plus I have learned that risk is okay. And more importantly I have learned that God isn't interested in my perfection but in my availability. After all it is not me who does the work. It is simply God using me. So, that is the short version of the conversation God and I had on the shuttle ride home from SFO.
I have a ton of pictures to share. From both the memorial and from the con, as well as some from just around camp.
Okay, this train is more than long enough. Catch ya next time.
Yesterday, I ditched church (Not a fan of crowds and Easter Sunday just seems so familiar to me that I don't get much out of it). Instead I drove down to SF to a comic book convention. It was good to be among "my people" again. To close out the evening I went to a sing-along screening of "Once More with Feeling" (the musical episode of Buffy). However, no major revelations came about so it's not really a full circle type thing.
The major revelation came two Thursdays ago over a lunch of poorly made Philly steak sandwiches. Scott Peterson, the Children's Pastor at the church I have been attending wanted to meet me with me about "being up front more." This was the best lunch I have ever had. And it wasn't due to the skimpy meat sandwiches. It was the moment that God used to flip the switch in my head.
God is calling me into full time Children's Ministry. Now a few of you are saying, "well duh, I thought you knew that." Others maybe totally shocked. Here is the thing. It was in talking with Scott that I realized I had the skills to do this ministry.
However, new things are scary, at least to me. So, as excited as I am about doing Children's Ministry, there is a lot that will be challenging to me.
Last Monday was the funeral service for my grandmother. (There may be a blog, but at least some pics on that sometime soon). Last weekend I went home for said service. Two ancillary activities of the trip brought mycalling into focus. The first was Three-Fold Communion at my home church in Seal Beach. The second was the shuttle ride from SFO to Santa Rosa.
If you don't know, Three-Fold is a potluck that ends with a Communion service and has a ceremonially foot washing in the middle. (yes cerimonally foot washing is a little weird-that's a blog for another day.) After the washing, the washer and the washee embrace (at least that is the tradition at my church). Then there is some hymn singing and some sharing.
I sat next to Mr. Enyart. The Enyart clan , have been a big part (there are like six kids) of Children's Ministry at Grace during the years I was there. (Three of them are now in high school and college and are going on the HS mission trip. random side note: sweet little innocent Michelle who I have known since she was six turned sixteen on Sunday. It was good time at home among family and friends, but it also made me realize just how long I had been doing CM.)
Where was I? Oh, right, Mr. Enyart shared how myself and others had been instrumental in the development of his children's faith. I was absolutely floored. Parents make the kids who they are. God changes their lives and makes them awesome servants for His kingdom. (and the Enyart kids are awesome servants). I just point them to God and sing goofy songs. For someone else, and a parent at that, to see me have an impact on his chidren's lives, showed me that God has equipped me for and wants to use me in CM.
Here is the thing. I see my sin. I see my failure. And I stay there. I think God can't use me. As long as I can remember people have been telling me that I should, assuming that I would, go into ministry. But that is a risk, and risk involves failure, and failure is uncomfortable. But without risk there is no growth. The last year plus I have learned that risk is okay. And more importantly I have learned that God isn't interested in my perfection but in my availability. After all it is not me who does the work. It is simply God using me. So, that is the short version of the conversation God and I had on the shuttle ride home from SFO.
I have a ton of pictures to share. From both the memorial and from the con, as well as some from just around camp.
Okay, this train is more than long enough. Catch ya next time.
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