Monthly Archives: May 2012

Are There Books of the Bible That You Avoid?

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Okay. Maybe “avoid” is too strong of a word. I guess what I mean is, are there any books of the Bible that you tend not to read, unless you have to?

I mean there are books of the Bible that I always gravitate towards for devotional times. I always like the narrative stories, so Judges, 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings are usually books I read for devotions. Along with Mark’s and Luke’s Gospels, Acts, Romans and Philippians.

My sister in-law does bible studies/readings/devotionals with her teenage daughter. And a few years back (before her daughter became a teenager) they were reading Deuteronomy, and the girl says to her mom, “Deuteronomy? It’s more like Do-Not-Read-To-Me!” I heard that story and I couldn’t stop laughing.

There are books that I tend to not read more than others. Leviticus. Numbers. 1 & 2 Chronicles. Song of Songs. Lamentations. For different reasons. Some of them being mind-numbing numbers, ratios and facts. And I tend to avoid Revelations. Part of it being that I don’t really know how to read it. I know that I don’t interpret in the sense of books that led to movies starring Kirk Cameron.

So, I was just wondering, are there books of the Bible that you haven’t read in years, and don’t really plan on reading them any time soon? If so, what and why?

Or am I some sort of heretic and should faithfully read all the books in the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, in that order?

 

My Transition (New Appointment)

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For a little while, I wanted to title all of my blog posts starting with a “My” a la one of my favorite shows, Scrubs. But that’s neither here nor there.

This past Sunday, I announced that I will be serving St. Mark United Methodist Church in Santa Barbara, effective July 1.

It’s truly bittersweet. I have loved being part of Valencia UMC for the past two and a half years. I am really excited for what this church has visioned for the next few years. But, at the same time, I know that it’s time for me to move on.

While I still have a heart and passion for youth and youth ministry, I think I’m at a chapter in my life where I no longer want to be the “youth guy.” There are other aspects of ministry that I want to explore and experience and I think St. Mark is that place where I can further explore my call as a UMC pastor.

As saddened as we are leaving this church family, both my wife and I are 100% certain that this is God’s plan for us. So we are encouraged by our faith and hopeful that God will do great things through us in Santa Barbara.

On top of that, I am already familiar with St. Mark UMC, at least with their campus. 20 years ago, my dad started a Korean church on St. Mark’s campus. So from the age of 11-16, I was part of the youth ministry at St. Mark where this great guy named, Doug was the youth director. It is a sort of homecoming for me.

And, when we lived in Santa Barbara, my grandparents lived near Pomona, and we would frequently make that drive down to see my grandparents. My parents now live near Pomona. And, when we have kids, my kids will make that same drive down to see their grandparents.

I am excited for the move. I think I’ll get a bit more nervous and anxious as the days progress. I have no idea what’s in store for us in Santa Barbara. But I know that God will be with us with every single step that we take.

So, we’ll have to start packing soon. It’s always a weird feeling packing, especially the office. There’s this sense of sadness and a heaviness within the heart mixed with a sense of excitement and nervousness.

It’s been a blessed 2.5 years here at Valencia. And we are grateful for the lessons that we have learned and the friendships we have formed here.

I think it’s safe to say that transition is going to be a theme of many posts this upcoming month.

I’m looking forward to a great and crazy and memorable month of June.

Here we go.

Be Present

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I think it’s fair to say that we certainly live in the busiest culture and times.

Everyone’s got something to do or somewhere to be. Cost of living is high. Many are struggling to make ends meet with one job, so they take on two or more jobs.

Many are struggling to keep a certain lifestyle, so they’re working to keep up with the lifestyle and the Joneses.

Students are overworked. Going to college has gotten super competitive. So you have to work yourself in high school. Multiple AP classes. Time consuming and life draining extra curricular activities. Good grades. And somewhere in all that, trying to remember to be teenagers.

On top of that, we’re probably the most distracted beings to ever walk this (so far, still) green earth.

It’s not enough to have the TV on, but we need to see what’s going on the world wide web and to see who’s texting us. When we’re with human friends, we’re trying to keep up with our Facebook friends. Multi-tasking has become the norm.

What I want to get across is that we need to really practice the art of being present in the present. Because we’re so busy, because we’re so distracted, our minds are everywhere. We could be spending quality time with good company, but our minds are thinking of the all the work that is waiting for us when we part. We could be sitting on the beaches of the North Shore in Hawaii, and we just can’t shake off what’s going on in the workplace without us. We could be hanging out with family members, and all we can think about how much longer we have to endure the suffering (just kidding about that one). (… I think…)

And because our mind is everywhere but here and the now, we can miss out on the little blessings God showers on us everyday.

If you don’t know, I tend to be a worrier. This post is meant for me more than anywhere else because I find myself worrying about things that really is unnecessary. And on top of being distracted by my worries, I’m just easily distracted. I’m a day dreamer of some sorts. During meetings (or class, during school days), my eyes always find the window and I think about where I could be… And when I’m “where I could be” I think about the meetings that are taking place. Sick, huh?

Recently, I was able to sneak in a little siesta after a meeting and found myself on a lookout point overlooking the ocean. The sun was setting and the sky looked like it was on fire. If the beauty of looking at a sunset next to the ocean wasn’t enough, there was a family of dolphins swimming near by.

I soaked it all in. The smell of the ocean. The cool sea breeze. The sound of the ocean. The view of the sunset. The sight of the dolphins swimming. It was truly a holy moment, and I felt tremendously blessed.

And for the first time, in a little while, I found myself completely present in the present.

 

I Have Mad Ninja Skills For Hiding From Parishioners

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There are many things about my personality and who I am that I need to work on and change for the sake of ministry (and to be a better person). One of the more pressing one is that I need to start liking people. Er, talking to people. Or to be more specific, talking to church people outside of church.

It’s weird. I have no qualms of running into people (both strangers and people I know) at coffee shops, like a Starbucks. Maybe it’s because I think of Starbucks as an extension of my office. So I’m still technically “working.” And I don’t ever recall, since college, where I went to Starbucks to not “work.”

So the other day, I was walking to get some lunch by myself when from a distance I saw a parishioner. What did I do? Turned around and went the complete opposite way. Why? I have no idea. I mean, it’s not like they were going to ask me to join them for lunch. It would’ve just been a “hey, how’s it going” and “have a great lunch” and maybe even “what are you eating/going to get?” type of short exchange. But I completely avoided them.

But I do that. All. The. Time.

And, I never get caught. Why? Because I’m Asian. And much like how all of us have taken some form of martial arts at some point of our lives, we are also born with some innate ninja skills. Some more than others. Like myself.

I’m a master of hiding behind aisles and displays at a grocery store. I have mastered (from an early age) of hiding behind people and things like trees, cars, shopping carts, and any other inanimate object. (I have to admit, as I got taller, I had to get more creative. Or get a lot lower…)

I may have perfected these innate skills growing up, as I spent a lot of my teenage years avoiding my dad’s church members everywhere I went. I mean everywhere. I would always keep a peripheral view of my surroundings to make sure there was no church member. Why? Because they were always so nosy. And annoying. If I were with a girl, they’d call my mom and who that girl hanging out with me was. Sometimes, I would “forget” to tell my mom who I was hanging out with. So naturally, she’d be really curious who that girl was. And the conversation would always end with, “Is she your girlfriend? You can’t have girlfriend right now. You have school. Is she Korean? You marry only Korean girl.”

If I were wearing some ragged clothes or what not, they’d somehow think that they’re my mother and start criticizing what I wear. And then, of course, they would tell my mom what horrible outfit that they saw me in. Not only would they tell my mom, they’d start telling everyone about my shennigans and what not. And for those who didn’t like my dad, I would serve as their ammo to go on a tirade about how out of control the pastor’s family is and if he can’t control his family, how could he run the church, yada, yada, yada. (Do any other ethnic PKs [pastor's kids] have to deal with things like this?)

So running into church people would always be so annoying and taxing.

Unless we were eating. Because church members would often pick up the pastor’s tab. Which made my dad not want to go out and eat at places that were popular amongst the church people. Actually. You know, my dad doesn’t like running into church people outside of church, too. Although, it may not be as extreme as me.

It’s just painfully humorous the lengths I’ll go to hide from church folks in the middle of a Wal-Mart. And, sadly, I’m equally proud of myself when I am successful. (And I’m always successful. I never get “caught.” I just sometimes decide that I should man up and go say “hi.”)

While I know that I can’t be the only clergy who feels like this, I know that I may be one of the few who actually goes out of his/her way to hide. And I need to start really working on that.

Maybe a part of it is because I don’t want to always be in “pastor mode.” Maybe I just want to be goofy and inappropriate and laugh at tasteless jokes and watch questional movies that I know will have me laughing, but might not be appropriate for a “pastor.” And, when I see someone who knows me as a pastor, there’s an invisible switch that needs to be flipped on. Or maybe, I’m just lazy (a known and proven problem).

Whatever the reason, I need to put my ninja skills to a different use instead of hiding from parishioners. There’s no harm in talking to parishioners outside of the church.

Heck, it’s possible that they’re avoiding me as much as I’m avoiding them. But each moment can be a holy and God moment. And I shouldn’t go out of my way to avoid such moments.

As I’m writing this, outside of my favorite Starbucks, I just made eye contact with a church member who was at the store next door. Whoop. And now they’re walking over.

God, you’re real funny sometimes.

 

Being Without Doing

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It saddens me to see so many UM local churches that are declining and ineffective, because we don’t have to be. I’m not saying that all UM churches should be flourishing with members, growing each year, and have lots of money in the bank. Not at all. But I know that every single UM church has the power to be a transforming presence within their neighborhood and community. I strongly believe in our message and theology. And I strongly believe our capacity to bring transformation into our community and the ability to make healthy and effective disciples of Christ.

In case you’re wondering, this has nothing to do with any outcome of the General Conference 2012. I tried to get excited for it, but I couldn’t. I even tried following along with the live feeds. But when people were presenting amendments to the amendments, I couldn’t endure it. I’m waiting for someone to post cliff notes of all things General Conference 2012 soon.

But from local churches to the General Conference, I feel like many of us are sitting around and talking until we see eye to eye on everything before we do anything (from John Perkins). That’s never going to result to anything. There’s not a single community (secular or religious) that exists where everyone sees eye to eye on everything 

I think what bothers me the most, from my limited view and experience, is that many of our struggling local churches make the mistake of trying to be without doing (also from John Perkins). We put all the energy and breath into what we think we should be. But when it comes to doing something about it, well, it never happens. A lot of times, a subcommittee is created to do more talking about the ideal being. Then disagreements happen. Someone hijacks the committee’s vision and brings his or her own agenda. Sometimes another task force needs be created to deal with the disagreements. We have amendments to the amendments and a task force or a sub committee for every new amendment and eventually, everyone’s confused and/or there’s too much to clarify and organize. Either way, the end result is that nothing really happens.

And because of all this talking about how we should be, we’ve slowly lost track of what year it really is and the reality of the culture and community we are surrounded by. The culture is decades ahead of our church, so much so, that walking into some of our local churches is like experiencing time traveling. And it frustrates me to no end that churches do not use media technology, especially in SoCal, arguably the mecca of media technology. I mean, Hollywood is our backyard. (A quick side note, projecting the lyrics to the hymn on a screen helps everyone. First, people look up and can see everyone else’s face. Second, it’s easier for many to read (the bigger) words projected on the screen than strain to look at the small type in the hymnal. Third, it never hurts to incorporate media like pictures, video clips to enhance your sermon, once in a while.)

Every year in our ordination exams in the Cal-Pac Annual Conference, this question is asked:
You are seeking to join an annual conference that has experienced more than three decades of decline and has scores of struggling churches? How will you address this reality in your ministry as a Deacon or Elder?

I answered that I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to change anything within the Annual Conference. Simply, it’s big and vast and too much to think about bringing any chance to the Annual Conference. I told them that my goal is to do the best that I can by and through God’s grace for the local church and the community that I am appointed to.
They pushed back asking about our connectionalism and that we’re called to serve the Annual Conference and not just our local church.
I responded with, How’s that working out for us? We’re still declining. How long are we going to wait for change to come from the top down? There are too many differing opinions and thoughts within our Annual Conference. While the diversity is beautiful and necessary, we’re going to spend so much energy and time arguing about how things should be that change doesn’t really happen. In the history of the church, it’s always been a small group of people that made drastic changes for the entire body of Christ. The 12 Disciples. The Apostles. The Desert Fathers. Martin Luther. I strongly believe that some of our local churches will start hitting a grace-filled stride that results in effectiveness, healthiness and growth and other local churches will notice. And because we tend to be a copycat church, when one UMC does something that is effective, other churches will start trying to translate the methods of the effective church into their own setting. And maybe they’ll be enough of a ripple effect that makes the entire conference notice.

I didn’t pass that year my ordination exams that year. I could tell from their response that many of them didn’t like my answer. And I’m not saying that it was a good answer or that I was right. I mean, still today, I don’t even know if I answered the question correctly.

But I still believe in what I said though, that effective change always seem to have come from the down up. To wait for the General Conference and the Annual Conference to make the necessary changes is not productive use of time, gifts and energy. By the time we get this massive ship that we call UMC to make important shifts and changes in direction, we’ll already be years too late.

I believe that our local churches have no excuse to be dying. Check that. I believe that we have no excuses of dying without putting up a fight. I say, if we’re expecting to close our doors in the next two years, let’s go out with a bang. Let’s throw a banquet and invite the poor and the sick and the migrant workers and have a taste of what heaven would be like. Let’s make our presence felt and known in our community. Let’s be like Jonathan and his young armor bearer in 1 Samuel 14 and, well, “just do it.”

Perhaps I am still too young and naive to understand how everything works. A clergy at a district gathering once said to me, “Just wait until you get to my age, and you’ll see.” What I’ll see, I have no idea. But I’m sure he was talking about how young and naive I appeared to be and how out of touch with “reality” I was. I don’t know.

But what I do know is that we can’t afford to spend too much more energy and breath talking about how we should be and how things should be. As John Perkins writes, “Being is not complete until doing.”

We need to start putting our faith into work.
All of our local churches has the potential to bear fruit.
All of God’s churches has potential to make some sort of difference in our community.

We just need to stop talking about it and start putting our money where our mouth is.

 

 

 

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Hunger Games

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Sorry for the misleading title, but this post is not going to be about Katniss or Gale or Peeta or the love triangle of Galniss vs. Keeta (the other possible combination of names never mind).

The picture you see is of my dad, 6 days in to his fast.

Every time he fasts for a lengthy period, he wants to take frequent visits to grocery stores (particularly Asian ones, because they have live fish/seafood) to stroll through the aisles and take in all the sights and sounds. He lost his ability to smell when he was a child, so he doesn’t have to worry about being overwhelmed by smells.

We went to see him and also to celebrate Mother’s Day a day earlier, which my dad insisted that he’ll come to dinner with us to converse with us and watch us eat (which is another one of his favorite things to do while fasting).

He wanted to go to the stores to see if they carry a certain “product” that he can cook and eat when he is able (I don’t want to let you know what it was because even I was a bit grossed out. I guess that’s why we went to Asian grocery stores. And no, it’s not dog).

My mom usually go on these outings to entertain him. She said after all these years of fasting, he never once cooked or prepared the things he was craving when he was done with the fast.

When I fasted here and there, the Food Network would consistently fascinate me. I’d just sit and watch the likes of Bobby Flay or Guy Fieri do their thing. I’d think, “Man, I should learn to cook like that.” And, “Man, I don’t even like fish, but dang that salmon looks good.”

And much like my father, after the fast, I never followed through, either.

When you’re hungry, everything changes. The food looks better than ever. You sit there and watch the cooking shows, and you swear that aroma of what the chef is preparing is coming through the TV screen.

I started making plans – a food schedule, if you will – of what food to consume and in what order, when I am able. Burgers, fries, pizza and Mexican food usually tops the list. Oh. Ice cream. Pie.Cereal. Oatmeal. Cake. And the weird thing is, outside of ice cream, I don’t even like the stuff on the second list. But, during the fast, I would crave them.

But once I was able to eat, those pangs would fade away rather quickly. Time spent watching the Food Network would decrease dramatically.

It’s a different story, now that my hunger has been satisfied.

While watching my dad make plans of cooking that he’d never follow through on, I started to wondering if this generation (mine included) could be one of the most idolatrous generations to date.

Because, we Christians may hunger for God, but we end up filling up on something else completely. It’s like you’re at a great steak restaurant, but you ate so much of their complimentary bread, by the time the steak comes out, you’re too full to enjoy that great piece of meat (vegetarians can substitute steak and bread for what y’all consider as great and yummy as steak).

Some of us may just be too blessed to realize that all blessings come from God and slowly start replacing God with ourselves; that my security and success came from my hard work and my talents. And we look ourselves in the mirror, and give ourselves the credit for looking so darn good.
Others of us may go to church to worship God, but the god that our hearts chase after is altogether something else like fame, fortune, love, acceptance…

So, we go day to day to day replacing God with human created things (sometimes purposefully, sometimes unintentionally) and we start rationalizing and justifying for the things that are slowly replacing God.

I don’t want to make light of the deep problem of addiction, but the root of the problem with addiction, I heard a pastor say, is that we are trying to replace what only God can provide with something else.

I’ve been mentally taking notes (and also writing things down here and there) of how I spend my day – what I do, for how long, etc. And it was a sad (and shocking) realization of how much time and energy is invested in things that are not going to bear any fruit. I spend a heckuva lot more time in doing mindless screen watching of various forms, than spend time in prayer.

We’re all hungry for something deeper, but we all make the mistake of searching for satisfaction elsewhere. Instead of turning to God, we turn to something created by human hands. And we think we find comfort. We think we find satisfaction. Yet after a while, our hearts are restless again.
Our new house isn’t big enough.
Our new car isn’t fast enough.
Our new job isn’t paying enough.
This new relationship isn’t fulfilling enough.
A drink is no longer enough.

And the Truth is, God is the only source that can satisfy the this hunger.
As St. Augustine once wrote, Our hearts are restless until they find rest in God.

So what may be some things you have tried to unintentionally (or intentionally) replace God with?
How have you been trying to satisfy your hunger for something deeper?

There’s a lot of pruning that I need to start doing in my life…

 

 

Things My Dad Taught Me

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If there’s one lesson that I learn from my dad is: Take everything to prayer.

For me, the picture next to Prayer Warrior would be of my father. The man is a man of prayer. And God has blessed him through his prayers.

One of the earliest memories I have of living in America is having a family communion after my dad finished his first ever 40 day fast. We had just moved to the States from Korea. I was only 6, so I didn’t really comprehend what was going on with my dad. But my dad didn’t have a church to serve. He was a pastor without a church. He shared with me that he was so desperate that he thought of going to work at a dry cleaners to support his family.

He was compelled by the Spirit to go on a 40 day fast. And he did. I don’t really remember any of the fast of itself. But I do remember that day he broke the fast. Because it was the first time I saw my dad cry. I don’t know if it was candlelit or the lighting of our apartment, but my dad led us in a family worship in, what I recall, a very dimly lit room. He handed my mom piece of bread and then juice. Then he turned to me, with tears in his eyes, offering bread and juice. And of course, seeing my dad cry at the age of 6, I was automatically going to cry too.

Then after our family worship, he broke his fast (well, I guess he technically broke it with the minuscule piece of bread he took). He had plain porridge, the official meal after a fast (at least in my family). And I remember him eating it ever so slowly, ever so gently, not in a manner of savoring the food, but more because it seemed like it hurt to eat.

3-5 months after he ended the fast, we got a call to move to Columbia, South Carolina because there was a church for my dad. So we moved to Columbia in 87 and then later, my little brother would be born. The first American citizen of our entire ancestory.

My dad went on another 40 day fast when I was a freshman or sophomore in high school. This time, I was more aware of what was going on. The Gido Won (literally, a prayer house) that he did his fast was about two hours away from our home and up in the mountains (where gido wons traditionally are). We would frequently visit my dad, Mom more often. Sometimes, she’d drive up in the middle of the night to help him out, be his moral support, then be home early enough to take us to school.

On our visits, Dad was nothing but smiles. I think he was genuinely happy to see us, as if we were some moral boost or something. The further he got into the fast, the skinnier he would be and the more his face would be drawn. I remember near the end, his calf would be as thick as my forearm. He had found a huge stick during one of his walks around the forest that he used as a staff. And when it was time for us to leave, he would walk us out and lean on that staff as we drove away. I would watch from the sideview mirror, my dad getting smaller and smaller, but his smile brighter than ever. I would always be wearing my sunglasses when we parted because I didn’t want anyone to see me cry as the image of my dad faded away from the side mirror. Though, I’m sure my mom noticed. For her credit, she wouldn’t start a conversation with me until we were well on the freeway.

My dad would go on two more 40 day fasts. Once when I was in college in Hawaii. Then once more when I was in seminary, also in Hawaii.

He always said that he wanted to do one more 40 day fast before he physically couldn’t do one.

Well, last year, my dad was appointed to a (notorious) Korean church as the interim pastor. This year, he will be reappointed to that church, but no longer as an interim. A part of me worries about the effect that this church will have on my parents’ health, because it’s not the healthiest of churches. Since he will no longer be the interim pastor, my dad is viewing this as God’s way of saying that this is the church that God has given him, that he is to be their leader and shepherd led by God’s grace.

So, he said that he needed to pray and fast for the ministry God has gifted him with and for the church.

Starting yesterday, my dad embarked on a 20-day fast. I knew that his intentions were 40 days, so I asked him why 20 instead of 40. He responded that this is one of the bigger and busier churches that he’s ever ministered at. 40 day fast will take him out of commission for far too long. While it’s important to fast, he felt that it wouldn’t be wise to not be at 100% for more than 6 months. It takes a long time to recuperate from these fasts. You can’t just jump into the food. You have to work your body into it. So, for about 20-40 days after the forty day fast is over is when you start introducing fish into the diet. (Someone once told me that you should eat porridge for the length you fasted for.) And you ever so slowly start introducing more and more into your diet. I think it’s about after 6 months (maybe longer) when you can start eating fairly normal. At least, this is my experience from watching my dad. He felt that he would do the church more harm than help if he were out of commission for more than half a year.

Growing up with a dad like that, I have no excuse to be as lazy as I am in my prayer life. I know, understand and have witnessed the power of prayer. Yet, it’s a discipline that I take for granted. Or just am inexcusably lazy at. A part of it could be because I know I have people like my parents and my parents in-law praying over us. But that’s simply an awful, awful, awful excuse to not pray.

I’ve been thinking nonstop about my dad since yesterday. While I have a deep concern for his health and well-being, my dad has gotten me to have a deeper concern for my personal prayer life. I simply don’t pray enough. And, admitting, I have heard, is the first step towards change.

If you can, please keep my dad in your prayers. And my mom. Fasting can put enormous amount of burden on the spouse as well. The GidoWon that my dad is staying at is about an hour away from my parents’ residence. I’m pretty sure that my mom is going to make daily trips to be there for my dad. So please, if you can, keep my parents in your prayers.

I hope that God will strengthen my parents in these 20 days and beyond as my dad is probably in his last appointment before he retires from being a professional clergy. And I pray that his church will join him in this journey of prayer and that God will bless the church as they live out God’s vision for them, all the while striving for unity, grace and love that will overflow from the walls of the church and into the community.

And I hope that I wake my ass up and start following the example my dad has set in front of me.

Life is Short and Precious

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Can I tell you something?

I dread the time of my life when I have to start burying my friends. Don’t even get me started about the inevitable day where I have to face my life without my parents being physically around. But, I am not looking forward to the day where it’s a who’s still living “contest” amongst my friends.

And I know it’s a bit silly to worry about those things now. But, what can I say? I’m a worrier. I try not to be. I’m trying to take heed our sermon series that we just wrapped up called, “No Worries.” I get anxious a lot too. Over things worth getting anxious for and over more trivial things. Like, the days ahead where I’ll be looking at my kids growing up or hitting another milestone in my life and just wishing my parents were alive to see it. I know it’s not trivial. However, it’s not worth thinking about it now. Especially not worth getting worked up about it. But that’s just me. I don’t want it to be. But I’m a bit neurotic. I easily get nervous and anxious. Maybe that’s why I can relate to Woody Allen’s earlier movies, like Annie Hall.

Last night, I was watching the Clippers-Grizzlies game when I was scrolling through my Facebook feed when I saw that Adam Keefer, a friend from seminary, had suddenly passed away. At the age of 31. We were fairly close in seminary. We took a lot of classes together, particularly youth ministry classes. I would frequently swing by his dorm room and hang out with him and his roommate, Andrew. He was a great guy and fun to be around. His hair color would constantly change. We’d sit in class and he’d just say, “I’m done with green. I think I’m gonna color my hair blue when class is done.”

We once had a sub for Church History. And, my oh my, the professor had a hard time keeping our attention. Well, at least mine and Adam’s, who was sitting next to me. I gave me him a gasp of dread and desperation combined with an exaggerated eye roll. And we were only 10 minutes into, what I recall, a 3 hour class. What the heck were we gonna do for the next 2 hours and 50 minutes? I knew that we wouldn’t be able to endure the entire class. So he whispers, “I have Pirates of the Caribbean with me.”

He didn’t need to repeat himself. I immediately gestured for him to hand it over. Why it was in his bag, I didn’t need to ask. Nor did I care. Johnny Depp was going to serve as some sort of savior for the next 2 hours. So we spent the first half of class watching Pirates of the Caribbean (volume off, and subtitles on, of course) on my laptop and the rest of the class scrolling through stupid Internet stuff. Later in the semester, I’d be stuck in another boring class (Western Sacred Music) and decided to pop in Spider-Man 2 in my laptop. After the class, I got an email from the professor asking, “If you can explain what Spider-Man 2 has to do with Sacred Music, you won’t get into that much trouble.” I’m pretty sure it was the professor’s daughter who ratted me out. It was “take your child to work day” for her kid and the daughter went around where I was sitting to get outside the room to use the restroom or something. Either way, I know it was the daughter that snitched on me. My fault for not being more careful. Anyway, next semester in all the syllabi for our courses, there was a new rule to be found. “Computers are to be used only for note taking. Surfing the web, watching movies, or any other activities not related to the course is prohibited.” Or something like that. Adam dubbed it as the “Joseph Yoo” rule.

I talked to him once or twice after we graduated from Wesley. I heard that his brother had a pretty bad accident. And I heard that his family was on an episode of a TV show that helps with home renovations.

If I can just remain a bit self-centered a little bit longer… It’s an odd, odd feeling knowing that Adam is gone. I don’t think it hasn’t quite set in. And, I know it’s weird that I just said “odd” and not “sad” but sadness and grief over Adam’s passing is a given. I just can’t believe it. I mean, I always figured that down the road, I’d meet up with my seminary colleagues here and there, after all, we Methodists are connectional. At least theoretically. I got to hang out with Adam’s roommate at Kansas this past October. Got to see another colleague in Dallas before he moved out to Seattle. I got to see some more colleagues through the Lewis Fellows program. I’d figure, one day, I’ll have a reason to be in Pennsylvania and could call up Adam to hang out for a cup of coffee. But, that’ll just have to wait until I get to see if I make it into Heaven. (Not a given, for me…)

I… I just don’t know what to say.

Life is far too short. And life is too far precious. But life is far too damn easy to take for granted.

My heart and prayers go out to the Keefers.

Adam was a great guy. Passionate for life, Christ and youth ministry. Hilariously hilarious and, don’t be fooled, he was just as much of a troublemaker as I was in seminary, except he was smarter and less obvious. His smile was always bright as his hair color of the week.

The world lost a great guy.

Rest in peace, friend.