Create Providence

My friend Hilary had this to say in church, recently:

About two months ago I decided I need to go to Nigeria, to found a non-profit and take a group of artists to work with an orphanage and home for battered women called Susana Homes. I’d had this idea for two years, but it was at the Pepperdine Lectures in early May that the vision snapped into focus. In the weeks that followed, as I drove my parent’s car around California and listened to the new worship CDs we’d acquired that week, I found myself questioning the lyrics to the songs I normally would have embraced wholeheartedly. Nnow, with every worship song I sung along to, I pictured standing on the stage we’re going to build, with my friends, leading worship for the people of these villages. And the words only seemed appropriate for us in our 1st world, developed country lives.

Blessed be your name in the land that is plentiful
Where your streams of abundance flow
And blessed be your name when I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
On the road marker with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be your name


When I sing about the desert place, the wilderness, my road marked with suffering … I am maybe thinking about a time when I felt lonely, my anxiety about my career or finances, breaking up with a boyfriend, or maybe acknowledging that I haven’t been spending as much time with God as I should. And let’s be honest, it’s not all that hard for me to still trust and praise God for his goodness even when I feel uncertain about, say, my career. I do believe He has a plan for me. But for these villages living in extreme poverty? Children who have been orphaned. Women beaten and abused. People without hope that their lives are going to get better. Without opportunity to get out. Just praying for rain, praying there will be enough food, praying their wife won’t be one of the many who die in child birth, praying that they don’t have AIDS and pass it onto their children, praying that God will send them parents and a family. How do they say “Blessed be your name”? I say it in my “desert place” … curled up on my down comforter in my brand new apartment building with my breathtaking view of Manhattan. I trust that the streams of abundance will flow again because they have, because He has provided and He is good. But have these children ever been in a land that is plentiful? Have they ever been just bowled over by the sheer power of streams of abundance?

Hilary has followed through with her vision and has founded a non-profit organization called Create Providence. In short, they are a group of 12 professional artists from here in NYC who are traveling to Nigeria for awhile, sharing their talent and training with children living in extreme poverty in the hope of bringing them greater beauty, joy, creativity, and empowering them to find their own unique voices and gifts.

Each artist needs to raise $3000 to cover the cost of their trip. They leave in January. There is a link on the Create Providence website where you can find out how you can donate money and/or supplies for this endeavor. I am moved by the passion these artists have for their work and how they are using it to glorify Him. Keep the artists of Create Providence bathed in prayer as they prepare for their trip.

There's This UFO...

Up the street from me, a group of people have constructed a life-size UFO in front of this house. It's part of a "Halloween walk" in the neighborhood, but politically-inspired as well. As you can tell from the photo, the UFO sits in faux graveyard where some of the epitaphs are worth mentioning below. What you can't see from the photos are the aliens that are peeking out of the windows of the surrounding houses. And, the people in these houses have replaced all their lights with green bulbs, so the houses give off this eery glow at night. If you have a chance to stroll through Clinton Hill (right off the Clinton-Washington stop on the G line), you should check it out.

• Here Lies Congestion Pricing: the dolts in Albany do not care about the quality of our air

• I [heart] NRA: Rest in Pieces

• Gonsalez, Scooter, Rove & Rummy: here do turn to waste; worms and bugs don't find them yummy. Oh, creatures of such taste!

• Luciano Pavorotti: he has gone to that great all you can sing buffet in the sky. Buon Giorno!

• Here Lies myspace.com--abducted by Facebook

• Marcel Marceau: 1923-2007; Now he really is trapped in a box

Ya se casaron!

Mexico was awesome! It's a sanctuary, it's downtime, it's family, it's laughing together, it's home-cooked meals, and all those other wonderful things you love about going back home.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Both ceremonies were great. FYI, in Mexico, there are two parts to getting married: the first ceremony, called the "civil ceremony", happens the day before the religious ceremony. It takes place before a judge. The families are present including two selected "witnesses" for each of the bride and groom, who must sign the wedding certificate. The second ceremony is the traditional church ceremony that we are accustomed to here in the US (barring a few cultural differences). The civil ceremony was on Friday. I was honored to be one of Fer's witnesses. The church wedding was Saturday evening at La Iglesia de Cristo en Sierra Ventana, followed by all-out party at a reception hall.

Check out the pictures I posted.

La boda del siglo

I'm headed to Monterrey on Thursday this week and cannot wait! It's been over a year since I've been back. I can't wait to see the house, sleep in my bed, eat tacos, and laugh with my brothers. It's been too long since we've seen each other.

My older brother, Fer, is getting married on Saturday. I'm honored to be in the wedding and to share in this day with him and the rest of the Santos family. Please keep Fer and Vero and their marriage in your prayers. Look for pictures here when I get back in town.

Update on Ellen

Ellen had her surgery last Friday morning. My co-workers and I went to go see her this morning after we got off work. She was awake and able to talk to us and we were grateful for that. According to her, the surgery was a success and went very well. That is very good news.

She was more than a little frustrated with the nursing care she is receiving at the hospital where she had the surgery (won't mention the name, but it's a world-renowned, private hospital). Evidently, their care is not up to par with the nurses at Bellevue (woop! woop!). Guess it's true, that all that glitters is not gold. Bellevue is more like coal, but we try to glitter in our own way.

Thank you all for thoughts and prayers on her behalf. More updates to come.

some thoughts on the Holy Spirit

Over the past month, I have had some difficult, albeit necessary, conversations with my family regarding homosexuality and, in particular, my life as a gay Christian. We don't agree, as a whole family, on the issue of homosexuality and its place in the life of a Christian. The fact that we don't agree has caused me some stress, some worry, and some requests for prayer, because I have felt like eventual unanimity was very important.

In my Bible reading last week, I came to a new understanding of my decision and my family's decisions, which I will attempt to share here. It involves the Holy Spirit and its role in allowing, in fact demanding, us each to live out wholly the intricacies of our individual salvations. Let me explain.

We (Christians, my family) all believe in the same resurrection. However, our respective Christianities are going to look different beyond that. It wasn't for no good reason that I felt called to leave home and move to New York a few years ago. It was no accident that I came to a crisis point in my life which demanded me to make a decision on how to live out my sexuality as a man of God. My membership in CCfB was also not incidental. Quite the contrary. These events I attribute to the work of the Spirit. It has been the lived experiences of Nate Jones that have allowed me to arrive at my decision. This decision was crucial for my salvation. This issue, more than any other, consumed my life and necessitated a decision that has, in part, shaped my salvation and how I will proceed with my Christianity.

The Spirit didn't call my brothers or my parents to come to New York. It has called them other places, to wrestle with other things that are crucial to their respective salvations. It only now makes sense to me that everyone's salvation will look different because God has created each one of us as individuals, not clones. So, if someone's belief in homosexuality (or any other issue, for that matter) differs from mine, that's okay. If they are decidedly against it or are ambiguous about it, that's okay. For I know what I've decided for myself that is vital to my walk, that allows me to now be outwardly focused, that which is significant to my salvation. For others, they will have their own issues and struggles which are paramount in their salvations, which will be worked out in the course of their lifetimes.

In Philippians chapter 2, Paul writes, "...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." It is not on our own merit but by God, who gives us the ability, to decide what is good and right and then to act on it, according to our principles (paraphrased, Matthew Henry Commentary).

Let me add this: this line of thought can be a slippery slope. Critics may argue that suddenly anything can become permissible because it is "crucial to someone's salvation." Obviously, salvation is not something to be discussed nonchalantly or worked out cavalierly. We have to trust each other, as Christian brothers and sisters, that anything placed under the umbrella of salvation has been worked through in true pain. It is something that requires perseverent and painstaking care.

My new understanding does not completely absolve me or the church of its responsibility to continue difficult conversations. It does, though, allow for a degree of grace and permission to individualize the process of working out one's salvation.

Ellen

Friends & Family,

A co-worker of mine, Ellen, desperately needs prayer right now. She has some severe, chronic health problems related to high-dose, internal radiation treatments she received for cancer when she was a very young woman. She has already had multiple surgeries and is scheduled for additional surgery very soon. She is too sick to work, yet working so much each week to try and stay afloat financially.

She is scared for her own life, for her financial well-being, and for her future. Ellen has had a difficult life, full of betrayal and disappointment, and she needs so much to feel loved and to feel some very profound healing.

Please add Ellen to your prayer list, that God will be unmistakably present for her.

RENT

Have you ever had the opportunity to stand in front of your favorite painting, or hear your favorite song performed live, or listen to an author you love read from his or her book? You know the feeling you get?

Over the years, I have seen a few truly incredible performances. They are unforgettable moments when a performance connects with its audience in a very profound way. Friday night, Aydrea (a friend from LA) and Casey and I went and saw RENT, and it was a performance that will stick with me forever.

I've seen the show a few times before, but this performance was special for these reasons:

(1) Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp, who originated the leads in the show in 1996, are back for a few weeks. To see an original cast is awesome. They can deliver the show in a way that is unparalleled.

(2) Tamyra Gray, of American Idol fame, is also in the cast right now. I've been a fan of hers from the beginning.

(3) Aydrea, through a friend of hers, was able to arrange for us to meet with the stage manager after the show. We got backstage and the stage manager asks us, "Who in the cast would you like to meet?" Seriously, people. We got to choose who we wanted to talk to! So, we each rattled off a couple of names of cast members, and he made it happen. It was awesome. To stand at shoot the breeze with these performers was incredible. They were gracious and kind and genuine. Especially my girl Tamyra. And to shake hands with Broadway legends like Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp was a really big deal for me.

(4) The stage manager then took us on a tour of the set and of backstage. He let us roam on the stage wherever we wanted, explained all the changes that take place backstage during a performance, and let us see all the props and costumes that we cared to see. For people who know the show really well, like Casey, Aydrea and I do, it was quite poignant to be that close to the characters. I was able to walk over to the part of the stage where my favorite character, Collins, sings my favorite song, "I'll Cover You", and just stand there and soak it in. It sounds ridiculous, I know, to say that I made a connection with the character, standing there, but it's true. I will always remember getting to stand there alongside Collins and appreciate what his character stands for and the message his songs deliver. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Thank you Aydrea, your friends, and thank you to the stage manager for making Friday night happen. I'm still floating.

Lessons Learned

Last week I attended the annual San Antonio Trauma Symposium presented by the National Trauma Institute (NTI). The NTI is a consortium of both civilian and military facilities. The San Antonio symposium is the largest civilian/military symposium of its kind in the nation. Most of the attendees were military personnel with only a smattering of civilians like myself.

Many of the military personnel at the symposium have served in Iraq during this war, some of them very recently. The experience of sitting next to these soldiers during the lectures was poignant. To hear their stories and see their pictures was distressing.

I am against the conflict in Iraq, that is no secret. But, I confess, I have cavalierly spoken against the war and the enlisted men and women. It is one thing to disagree with the war, it is quite another to look down at those serving in the war. One soldier said (paraphrased) to us during a presentation, "We don't like war. We're only doing our jobs the same way that you're doing yours." Wow. I suppose I looked at soldiers as puppets for this administration, or people who had been duped by words like "freedom", "terrorism", and "democracy". That is not the case, I found at first-hand.

After sitting through slideshows of battlefield trauma victims, blast injuries, living conditions of the soldiers, and pictures of Afghani and Iraqi citizens, I gained a new perspective. I still disagree with the war, but I respect very much the men and women in the military who are serving in the war. It is true, their sacrifices are significant and should not be underestimated.

Hymns for Sale

I'm always in search of the next great CD of hymns for my hymn collection. It's one of my hobbies. Today I found The Harding University Concert Choir's "Most Requested Traditional Hymns". It's terrific, and is available on iTunes. Pepperdine University also has a group called Wave of Grace that has three albums of standard a capella hymns, not on iTunes, but available here. Of course, Acappella has tons of albums available, but their hymns have generally been spiced up a little bit (tempo fluctuations, vocal percussion, etc).



Additionally, The Zoe Group and Hallal also have great worship music, though their music is a little more contemporary. If you're looking for hymns the way you sung them growing up, one of the first two groups I mentioned is your best bet, in my opinion.

Songs of the Church

Wilber came over last night after church and after we ate dinner we sat down at my piano to sing some hymns. It's what all normal couples do, right? He had expressed interest in learning the tenor line to some songs we sing at church. He has a great ear, so only a few times going through these melodies and he had them down perfect. The last song we sang together was Tis Midnight, and on Olive's Brow. Playing the piano and listening to Wilber sing, I had tears running down my face. I finally felt like my two worlds were reconciled: me with Wilber, me with Jesus in the garden. Now, the three of us there together. What peace, God.

Un amour à taire

Wilber and I recently watched this French film, Un amour à taire (A Love To Hide), that was recommended to me by Netflix. It was, at once, beautiful and awful. It is set in Paris during World War II and tells the story of two men, their secret homosexual relationship and their assistance in helping a Jewish woman escape Nazi persecution. It also comments on the abuse, torture, experimentation and execution of homosexuals at the hands of the Gestapo. It was a powerful film that introduced me to an aspect of Nazi persecution that I was never taught about in school. Until this movie, I was ignorant about the treatment of gay men during the war. In history, we were taught about the yellow star that Jews were made to wear, but never about the pink triangle. Unbelievable.

The final scene in the movie is incredible and gives whole new meaning to the power of music. The director did a remarkable job with the score and the setting and the political commentary. If you have some time to lend to learning about historical civil injustices, rent this film.

Midtown Blast

I'm sure you've read or heard about the blast that occurred in midtown yesterday evening. It was truly unlike anything I've ever seen, save the pictures I saw on TV on 09/11. I was on my way to work yesterday and switched trains at Grand Central Station, evidently right before the explosion happened. When I got off the train, two stops later, people were lined in the middle of the street staring at the sky and I looked up and saw the smoke billowing. It was one of those feelings -- "Oh my God, what's happening?" I rushed to work at Bellevue because we are the closest Trauma Center in the area and I knew the wounded would be taken there.

When I arrived, the hospital was already in disaster-mode. Our ICU was being evacuated to make room for incoming victims, the emergency nurses were outside in haz-mat suits to decon the wounded, and everyone was rushing to prepare for whatever was about to roll in. Most of the victims brought to Bellevue were "treat & release" patients. Fortunately, we only had a couple that were critically injured.

The feeling around the hospital last night was very intense. People were more heightened, more emotional, in crisis mode. The surgeons especially were slammed overnight. We kept the news on all night long, listening for updates or alerts. I did not realize how large the blast was until the pictures started coming in online and one of my patients was describing the scene to me. It was awful. I hesitate to say it, but the whole feeling around the event reminded me of how 09/11 looked.

I go to bed this morning a little on edge, realizing that life is so short and no moment is taken for granted. You just never know.

Tahoka, TX

I got to spend four wonderful days last week with the Hays family in Tahoka, Texas. It was really good for my soul to be back in Texas, even if only for a little while. As soon as I landed at DFW, I breathed an audible sigh of relief as I looked out the window onto the Texas sky. There's no place like Texas.

Spending time with Joe, Laura, Sophia, Ira, Katie, Lance, Jack, Lydia, Jackie, Ryan, Isaac, Joey, Joe Francis and Glo was awesome. Really awesome! I laughed a lot, ate home-cooked meals, drank sweet iced tea, sat on the backporch swing, soaked in the hot tub, played the Wii, and enjoyed so much the company of old and new friends. I felt completely relaxed and completely at home, and I owe that to the hospitality and genuineness of everyone there.

My brother Josh and I were talking about my trip before I left, and how it's places like Tahoka that we would prefer to visit on vacation rather than the beach or the mountains or someplace exotic. It's the truth. Let me feast my eyes on the cotton fields, drive the open road, take in the vast night sky, stop at the John Deere dealership, and spend quality time with people I love, and I'll be a happy man.

Five years and counting

Last week marked my five year anniversary of living in New York. Different people will offer their opinions on what anniversary makes you a New Yorker: 2 years, 5 years, 7 years. I'm going with 5 years.

Here are some things I've learned after five years here in the city:

1) God goes before you and with you everywhere. The community I have in New York is unlike most I've encountered before.

2) The Lord works in powerful ways. Ask me five years ago if I would've thought I would be where I am today? No way.

3) Relationships are the key to survival here. The people I work with, go to school with, go to church with, eat with, and share life with are what makes living here wonderful.

4) 34th Street, the subway during rush hour, and Times Square are best to be avoided if at all possible.

5) Absence makes the heart grow fonder and stronger. I miss my family more than I can put into words. But my relationship with them is deeper and more precious than before.

6) The outer boroughs are the place to be. Brooklyn and Queens, you over a sanctuary for which I am so grateful.

7) The last five years would have been so much more difficult without Casey. We celebrate holidays and Tuesdays, laugh a lot, cry sometimes, and generally have a good time just being around each other.

8) Living here is cool. I still get excited when I see the Statue of Liberty at sunset or see the Chrysler building all lit up at night. What a great town.

Thanks to the BK, Central Park, the Daily News, the G train, bodegas, fresh mouths, shopping cart escalators, the Mets, immigrant populations, and so much more for keeping life interesting. Five years together and counting...

Happy Birthday, Mother

Today is my mother's 53rd birthday. For those of you who have not met my mother, Ruthie Jones, you should add it to your list of things to do.

She is love, she is peace, she is grace. She embodies home and family and the things in life that are good and true. She is a mother unlike most who I have met. The heart that she has for her sons is incredible. Her compassion for her fellow man is beyond measure. This is evidenced by her work as a hospital chaplain, and the way she conducts herself with those who are in need. Growing up, her prayer was often for God to "bless those who are sick, sad, or hungry."

The faith I have in God I attribute largely to the way she and my dad raised me. Trust in God, He is faithful to his promises. Never stop loving your brothers. You boys are each other's worlds. These are just some of the things she taught us growing up.

When I was in college, she would host weekly dinner's at her house on Tuesday night's for me, my brothers, and whoever we knew that needed a home-cooked meal. Ruthie Tuesdays, she called them. Her door was always open for anyone who needed anything. That's her way.

Mother, today Josh, Jen, Matthew, Sienna, Wilber and I honor you and celebrate your birthday with you. Break out the cake and the Blue Bell! It's time for a party!

What Does Your Heaven Look Like?

Heaven is totally overrated. It seems boring. Clouds, listening to people play the harp. It should be somewhere you can’t wait to go, like a luxury hotel. Maybe blue skies and soft music were enough to keep people in line in the 17th century, but Heaven has to step it up a bit. They’re basically getting by because they only have to be better than Hell.

-- Joel Stein, Columnist for the Los Angeles Times.

I appreicate this quote, because I've fantasized for many years about what heaven will be like. I'm of the mind that heaven is different things for different people. Eternal bliss may be we walks on the beach for some, rainy days with a good book for others, or for others still, singing the famed everlasting song.

I've given this a lot of thought, and my heaven looks like this, so far:

1) There is a dress code. White tops and khaki bottoms. Now, you can wear those colors in whatever garment you choose, but the dress code must be adhered to. It just looks sharp. Imagine, new people arriving in heaven every day, how impressed they'll be with how nice everyone looks. For my personal eternal ensemble, I'll be in khaki shorts and a white polo. Breezy, yet classic.

2) There will be an everlasting song, but you don't have to sing if you don't want to. The angel band (or, choir) will be singing forever. If you want to step on the risers and sing for awhile, then by all means do so. If you're not feeling like singing for eternity, don't feel obligated. Me, I'll be rotating in to sing at least once a "day".

3) The glory of the Lord will be revealed during the last couple of minutes of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. It's powerful, exciting, and triumphant. On the day I arrive, I'll be escorted into an auditorium where a symphony is playing. The Lord is the conductor and his back is turned to the audience. When the music climaxes toward the end of the piece (with the entrance of the low brass), He will turn around, arms outstretched, revealing His glory. The moment will be accompanied by pageantry unprecedented. Lights, fireworks, flags, cheers and applause. Afterwards, there will be appetizers, coffee and dessert served in the lobby.

What about you? Have you thought about it? What does your heaven look like?

"A Time To Embrace"

I recently finished reading William Stacy Johnson's A Time To Embrace: Same-Gender Relationships in Religion, Law, and Politics. I was contemplating reviewing the book here on this blog, but my friend Jen did a beautiful review in her own blog here, much more eloquent than I could do. Please, check out her review and please, read this book. It is very important.

Taylor, The Latte Boy

This is cute.

Only in New York

Last night, Wilber and I were out to dinner at this little sidewalk cafe not far from my apartment. All of a sudden, a blood-curdling scream comes from this woman across the street. This scream was such that I jumped up from my table and people inside the rest came running out to see what was wrong with this woman.

Turns out, she was walking her dog and passed this guy walking his dog and the two dogs got into it a little bit. They had somehow locked jaws. This woman was hysterical. "Get him off! Oh my God! Get him off! You're going to have to pay for this! You'll have to pay for this!"

The guy walking his dog was an older gentleman, so now he's all shook-up on account of this young woman's screaming. Now, add the furious woman who lives in the apartment building in front of where all of this is taking place. She comes out and starts yelling (in her best native-Brooklyn speak) at the young woman for making such a scene and drawing people out of their homes with her hysterics. The young woman proceeds to call 911 to report the whole situation. Not really sure what she's going to report, but she calls nonetheless. In two minutes time, NYPD shows up followed by an unmarked police car which speeds up to the scene, parks in the middle of the intersection, and the two cops bolt out of the car.

Wait, it gets better. Then the paramedics show up. Not kidding. The ambulance arrives and they hop out so now we have: the young woman in hysterics, the Brooklynite woman yelling at her, the older gentleman shaking his head, 4 cops, 2 paramedics, and street corners full of bystanders. It was really quite the scene.

After everyone collected themselves and the unmarked police car sped away squealing its tires (not kidding), the girl at the table to Wilber and me leans over and says, "I don't what the big deal is. Besides, that woman's dog probably said something bitchy to the other dog anyway." Only in New York, my friends, only in New York.