Credo ↔ Oratio

A few years ago I wrote a short little essay on dirt and several people have asked me about it recently.  So, since I haven’t posted it here before, I thought I’d do so (minimally edited from the 2003 version).   Enjoy!

A Thought on Dirt

Until recently, I had never really taken the time to think about how amazing dirt really is. In the last couple of weeks however, as my church (and place of employment) broke ground and started construction on the second half of our facility, I’ve begun to see the beauty of this, the most basic, and yet infinitely complex of elements.

Of course, the modern world doesn’t consider dirt to actually be an element. We reserve that title for substances that are impossible to discern with the naked eye. Fortunately however, our propensity for making everything more complicated than it really should be didn’t stop the ancient world from recognizing the immense value of this unique substance.

As a boy in northwest Iowa, I was raised knowing the worth of good dirt. And even though I now live in Michigan, where the dirt will require another million years or so to reach the moist warmth of the black gold my homeland produced, I have yet to forget the lessons of my childhood.

We had a pile of dirt in our front lawn. Actually, it was my Dad’s pile of dirt, not mine, but in line with the traditions of most children, I quickly took ownership of it. I don’t know where it came from, but eventually that pile of dirt was to end up insulating one of the three walls of the house we built. (Of course, my Dad actually built it, but as with the dirt, that didn’t stop me from thinking it was mine either.) One day, as I bathed myself in the elemental beauty of that black playground, my hand broke through into a nest of baby gardners. It was amazing. Hundreds of green and yellow snakelets hissing and squirming burst out onto my lap like a clown’s peanut can at a birthday party. With the swiftness of animal instinct, I hurled myself away from the roiling mass, but not without learning a very important lesson: Dirt is the root of all life.

God knew that. The book of Genesis tells the story of God creating dirt, and then, as if he had created it just for that purpose, on the sixth day, he played in it. You don’t believe me? Check it out. Genesis chapter 2, verse 7. Just a couple of pages into the sacred scriptures, God is playing in the dirt. Imagine the tiny divine sand castles God might have built on the shores of Lake Michigan or the gourmet mud pies carefully crafted from the best the world has to offer. Then, as if growing bored with inanimate objects, God built an adult. Knees, feet, fingernails, earlobes, nose hairs, lungs, appendix – everything but a bellybutton (if childhood jokes are to be trusted) and liking it, God took a deep breath and blew into it. The dirt became a man, and humanity was created.

Jesus liked dirt too. One apocryphal story from his childhood tells of him making small birds in the soil of his childhood homeland, and upon being chastised for playing during the Sabbath, he breathed into them and they flew away. Later, in the course of his public ministry, he healed a blind man with dirt and a little spit. Not to mention, the famous incident where he stooped to the ground and wrote the mysterious words that would set an adulterous woman free and silence her accusers.

Unfortunately, as humanity has “progressed,” dirt lost its position of favor among those of us who were created from it. Now, as if denying our own history, we participate in innumerable personal and familial rituals to rid ourselves of this primal element. Although perhaps providing a certain degree of freedom from disease, the side-effects of a germ-free society are devastating. Why? Well, it can all be sifted down to one very simple equation: E=D.

Enjoyment = Dirt.

The level of enjoyment one has in his or her life is relative to the amount of dirt one encounters. In other words, the more we play in dirt, the happier we are. The opposite seems to be true as well: the less we play in dirt, the less we enjoy life. As a matter of proof, let me direct your attention to two groups of people: Lawyers and 3-year olds. Lawyers encounter a minute amount of dirt in their daily lives, while 3-year olds practically sweat the substance. Let me ask you, who seems to enjoy life more? Is it the executive lawyer with a multimillion dollar office and a cleaning staff to protect her from dirt, or, is it the 3-year old who pulls of his shirt in the summer heat and paints “war-strips” on his chest after tracking down a “hippopotamus” in the grove?

The answer is simple: the child.

Jesus told us to be like little children, which according to pastors and scholars, was in the context of teaching about faith. Could it be possible, though, that faith is only part of what Jesus was talking about. I think so.

I think Jesus was talking about dirt too. Of course, I probably won’t mention that on Sunday morning. After all, if everyone ran outside to play in the dirt during worship, my Consistory might not be very happy – let alone the people who are signed up to clean the church next week. But maybe – just maybe, it’ll happen some other time. Hours after everyone has gone home from worship, and hours before anyone might call for a visit or a counseling session. In those quiet moments just before the moon rises or shortly before the sun peeks its face over the eastern horizon. Maybe, I’ll throw on some old blue jeans, a T-shirt and some sandals and carefully sneak out to the pile behind the church to explore what’s hidden depths of one of God’s most popular playgrounds.

Of course, you’re welcome to join me. I’ve gotten over my childhood need to pretend everything is mine. But please don’t tell the Consistory or the people signed up to clean next week. It’s a lot easier to explain if they think the kids did it.

(c) 2003, 2010 Tim TenClay

Grace and Peace,

`tim

My dear wife gave me a Nook for Christmas.  (No… that isn’t something dirty.  See this link if you don’t know what a Nook is!  Don’t worry, the link is family appropriate!)

Anyhow, the poor little guy has spent the last month clothes-less.  Nook cases are expensive and my first attempt at creating a felted one failed miserably.  (Actually, it turned out great, it just didn’t felt down small enough to use for the Nookster.)

Attempt number two, however, turned out exactly how I wanted it to.

For those who care about these things, here are the details:

• Needles: US6 DPNs
• 50 stitches cast on in the round, bottom was whip stitched rather than kitchenered
• The cables are 3-stitch cables  (1 cable row followed by 3 knit rows, repeated)
• The flap is seed stitch
• Yarn: Filatura Di Crosa Fancy by Aliseo (75% Wool, 15% Alpaca, 10% Acrylic)
• Color: 11
• Buttons: Bella Buttons by Dritz (Item #BB402)

Grace and Peace,

`tim

The Reformed Church in America traces its history in North America back 1628. We are the oldest continuous denomination on the continent, and yet in that time we have never adopted a new confession.

It is no small thing, then, that for the first time ever, we are going through the process of potentially adopting a new confession – the Belhar Confession. You see, the RCA is a confessional denomination. We currently have three standards of unity (the Heidelberg Catechism, the Belgic Confession, and the Canons of the Synod of Dort). We also confess three creeds (the Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene Creed, and the Athanasian Creed).

That sad reality is that, despite our confessional identity, there seems to be very little understanding of what it means to be such a body. Many believe the RCA is, like most pentecostal or baptist churches, a “no creed but Christ” denomination or a merely sola scriptura entity. We are not. Every minister in the RCA, alongside affirming the “Word of God as the only rule for faith and life,” also confirms that they hold our confessional documents to be “historic and faithful witnesses to the Word of God” (Declaration for Ministers of Word and Sacrament).

As far as I know, there is no “industry standard” as to how these statements are to be interpreted. In other words, there is no universal understanding of what it means to be confessional Christians. Some of my colleagues read the Declaration with a heavy emphasis on “historic and faithful witnesses….” Others clearly confess that the standards are “historic and faithful witnesses….” I tend toward the latter… many of my friends toward the former.

So, what does it mean to be confessional Christians? What are “confessions?” What is their authority? How are they related to the scriptures?

Here’s what I think:

I believe the confessions are documents from specific historic times and places. They were originally written to specific people in specific contexts. Unlike many theological documents, however, the creeds and confessions speak outside of their original context. While their authority is not equal to that of the scriptures, as with scriptures, a solid understanding of their original context(s) enables us to appropriately embrace them into our own time and place.

The confessions, while always subservient to the Bible, provide accurate and faithful distillations of the gospel. They offer us with the essential touch points of the Christian faith. These documents help us understand what is most important and give us a solid paradigm within which to interpret the parts of the Bible that are unclear or difficult to understand.

All of this helps explain why I believe the RCA should adopt the Belhar Confession.

Unlike some of my colleagues, I do believe the Belhar’s affirmation of God’s preferential option for the poor. I do believe that a faith which proclaims unity, justice and reconciliation but fails to live them, is no faith at all. If God stands with the “least of these” and all who suffer (and I believe God does!) then God’s people must as well. Failure to do so reveals us as Christian-like, rather than truly Christian.

In many ways, our current confessions handle Paul’s writings well, but they fail to adequately express the life and ministry that Jesus lived and taught. The Belhar helps rectify that.

The next two and a half months will show whether or not the RCA is ready to embrace the aspects of the scriptures that the Belhar lifts up as essential. I couldn’t be more pleased that Zeeland Classis and the other 5 who have currently voted on the issue have followed General Synod’s example and voted to embrace the Belhar.

I hope and dream for a world where Christians confess and live into the realities of unity, reconciliation and justice. This is, I believe, a small – but very important – step in that direction!

Grace and Peace,

`tim

Ok… Here’s the ax I’m grinding. I keep running into Christians who are angry about the use of the “Holiday Season” or “Happy Holidays” rather than saying “Merry Christmas” – which, they insist, is a more “Christ-centered” wish.

Fine, I’ll admit that the word “Christmas” actually includes the word “Christ,” and so at some level, not using the word “Christmas” actually does stop using a word with “Christ” in it… on the other hand, “Holidays” merely means “Holy + Days,” and that is most certainly appropriate for Christians!

Here’s why I think Christians should use the phrase “Happy Holidays:”

it refers to a time in our yearly cycle in which several holidays take place.

“Merry Christmas” ignores Thanksgiving; it ignores St. Nicholas’ Day (a big one in my family); it ignores Old/New Years’ celebrations, and it ignores Epiphany (a far more ancient holiday for Christians than Christmas). Equally as problematic, most people say “Merry Christmas” during the Advent season, not during the Christmas season.

“Happy Holidays” is a far more inclusive wish for one another; it is far more seasonally encompassing, and it is liturgically appropriate for all of the involved seasons.

On top of that, I’d suggest that we use the phrase the “Holidays’ Seasons” instead of the “holiday season;” it is, after all, several seasons of the Christian year.

Referring to the “holidays” doesn’t secularize the Christmas (we’ve done an stand-up job of doing that regardless of what verbiage we prefer); perhaps, indeed, it could help us recapture the real MeaningS of the SeasonS.

Grace and peace,
`tim

I’m afraid I haven’t had much time for blogging lately, but December 6th is just around the corner and since St. Nicholas’ day is unquestionably my favorite minor holiday, I wanted to remind everyone.

In my family, wooden shoes get set by the door before bed on the 5th with a small treat for St. Nicholas’ horse.  ”St. Nicholas,” living out God’s generosity and grace in a joyful and tangible way ensures that they are filled with goodies when the house wakes up the next morning.

This year, for the first time in my ministry, I’ll be using St. Nicholas feast-day readings for the sermon on Sunday morning.  It seems to me that we do well emulate those who came before us and provided excellent examples of what it means to be faithful.

If you’re unfamiliar with St. Nicholas, Let me STRONGLY encourage you to check out the St. Nicholas Center at:

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/

There’s also a wonderful (albeit rather old) DVD out called “Nicholas, the Boy who became Santa” that I’d recommend.  Our current copy is in Spanish (although language options on the DVD enable us to play it in English) – we picked it up at Walmart for about $4.  You can pick up a copy here, if you can’t find it anywhere else.

Grace and peace,

`tim

Of the many things a minister does with his or her time, the one we are most often judged on is our presence in the pulpit and/or time spent leading worship. That makes sense, of course, since most of what we do is either in small groups or with individuals, and worship services are one of the few things that even the least-involved and least-connected people in a congregation still occasionally attend.

There are a variety of ways ministers and congregations tend to imagine a pastor’s job description…

There is a sense of truth to each of these views (and several others). Lately, however, I’ve been struck with the image of “conductor” or “facilitator” – particularly within the context of worship. Why? Because the biggest failure each of the above-mentioned positions tends to promote (with the possible exception of the fourth) is that, at a very basic level, they tend to imagine the minister as the primary do-er of ministry in the congregation. Something that, as far as I can see, has absolutely no biblically backing whatsoever.

If the minister is the primary do-er, then the minister’s role is to be the primary worship-er… the primary pray-er… the primary engage-r of the scriptures. If, on the other hand, the pastor’s role is that of “conductor” or “facilitator,” the s/he is charged with helping those on the other side of the pulpit and communion table to worship… and pray… and engage the scriptures.

That doesn’t mean that a minister isn’t worshiping and praying and engaging the scriptures as an individual (and as part of the body). Indeed, in a very real sense, s/he ought to have a certain expertise, experience, and training in exactly those things (as the Reformed tradition has consistently, albeit decreasingly, demanded). However, conducting a choir is a very different thing than singing in one (although most conductors can and have sung under the leadership of other conductors). A facilitator’s role, rather than trying to get a group to come to a particular conclusion, is to help the group discern a particular direction (often even something very different than the facilitator would have individually concocted.)

Pull the image over into ministry and all sorts of light bulbs begin going off in the thought-bubbles over our heads. A minister’s role is to bring together the body of God’s people and help them unite together in worship and prayer… to help bring them to the point where they are individually and communally engaging the scriptures.

What use is it if a minister gets in front of a congregation on Sunday morning to worship on their behalf… and pray on their behalf… and engage the scriptures on their behalf?

My answer: None!

I can do all of those things in the privacy of my own office or living room without the bother and distraction of a congregation watching me. If, on the other hand, a congregation gathers together each week (or even, dare I suggest it, more often!) and joins together to do each of these things as a gathered body, then something far greater is taking place. A minister, in this sense, is charged with making sure the congregation joins (metaphorically, if not literally) in on the same song… the same verse… the same words; a pastor is to help pull together the dozens of diverse and sometimes divergent souls and help weave them – even if for a short time – into a single tapestry of worship, prayer and word.

The problem? This view of ministry doesn’t give the pastor great power and prestige (which, in my experience, many ministers want and are hesitant to give up) and it doesn’t give congregations the ability to sit back and simply let it happen around them (which, in my experience, many congregations have become quite used to and are hesitant to change).

Those two problems alone (not counting the fact that minister-as-primary-do-er is an entirely unbiblical concept) are enough to ensure that minister-as-conductor or pastor-as-facilitator aren’t frequently-embraced images – from either side of the pulpit!

I wonder what it would take to change that?!

Grace and Peace,
`tim

Tonight was my first time presiding over a Classis meeting. It went well, I think!

Here’s a copy of what I said in my “report”:

October 20, 2009
Zeeland Classis Fall Meeting

I stand before you this evening with an uncertain mixture of both excitement – at the privilege of leading us through our business today, and terror, as I recognize that our gathering has the potential to be heavily influenced by a handful of restless elephants in the room. It seems to me, that there are a half-a-dozen or so topics that threaten to hijack us not only this evening but in the coming years. Each with the potential to quietly, but undeniably, trample us into corners of defensiveness, narcissism, and disunity. So I wanted to begin this evening by simply naming the reality that, like any other creature, us humans – when we feel cornered – often act out in ways that look very different from the priorities of God’s kingdom that we claim to uphold. Part of our responsibility as Christians is to resist that temptation, as natural as it may be.

We gather this evening as Elders, Deacons, and Ministers to do the business of God’s church and become, increasingly, the people of God. We gather, not merely to represent our constituencies or simply to get our own particular pet-projects through the system, but rather, that through what we do here, the world around us may see what it’s like when God’s people work together – even in the midst of difficulty…. even when we disagree.

Zeeland Classis is not the same Classis it was when I came into it 9 ½ years ago….

There are reasons for all of these things – good reasons, even. Historic reasons… economic reasons… psychological reasons… even, of course, spiritual reasons. Some of which are far easier to discern than others. The world, after all has also changed. Politics, today, are immensely more polarized than they were 10 years ago. The economy is, even after whatever recovery we may have experienced lately, still uncertain. The world, to many of our congregations – as you well know – has changed from a place of relative comfort, to a place of danger.

We no longer trust that when we turn on our TV’s or log into our blog readers, we’ll find something good or encouraging… instead, we fear – reasonably – that we’ll hear of another terror attack or school shooting or pandemic outbreak.

All of this, of course, means that Christians can no longer pretend that the world is our oyster – even here in Zeeland Classis. We can no longer imagine ourselves as part of a global Christendom. Children no longer grow up knowing the basics of the faith. Many of them – even here in Southwest Michigan – don’t know the difference between Abraham and Paul… or between the Gospels and the Psalms. God’s kingdom has not yet come in all of it’s fullness and we do not yet experience it fully here on earth as it is, even now, in heaven. We live today, perhaps more than any time in the past century, in a world increasingly like that of the scriptures.

And yet, as new as this reality may be to us, it is nothing new to Christianity. The Christian faith has often grown and flourished in cultures like the one ours is becoming. History has shown over and over that hardship almost-universally forces us to figure out what’s important and to work together collegially, even, perhaps especially, when it’s difficult…. or we will not survive.

Today, the words of the scriptures ring a bit more loudly in our Classis than they once did:

…you are [chosen], a royal priesthood, [holy], God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.

Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people;
Once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

Beloved, (the author so powerfully writes) I urge you as aliens and exiles to abstain from the desires of the flesh that wage war against the soul. Conduct yourselves honorably among the Gentiles, so that though they malign you as evildoers, they may see your honorable deeds and glorify God when he come to judge. 1 Peter 2:9-12 (NRSV)

Imagine, if Zeeland Classis could somehow become known as an entity that was so honorable in what we do and how we do what we do, that those around us would see us as an outpost of God’s kingdom.

Imagine, if Zeeland Classis would somehow live into our calling so fully that, even the world around us would find itself driven, eventually, to Glorify God.

Finally, all of you, (the author of 1st Peter continues a chapter later) have unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind. Do not repay evil for evil or abuse for abuse; but on the contrary, repay with a blessing. It is for this that you were called…. 1 Peter 3:8-9 (NRSV)

Let us pray.

I’ve wondered, for quite some time now, why some of the least pleasant people I know are those who claim to be Christian. Shouldn’t the exact opposite be the case? The scriptures, after all, call us to “not let any unwholesome talk come out of our mouths” (Eph. 4:29) and to “live such good lives, among the pagans that… they may see your good deeds and glorify God….” (1 Pet. 2:12) Why is it that the opposite seems so often the case in Christian circles? A USA Today, survey found that 72% of U.S. adults say the church is “full of hypocrites,” and 44% agree with the statement “Christians get on my nerves” – that, most certainly isn’t living in such a way that people “see our good deeds and glorify God!”

Of course, it isn’t that there aren’t unpleasant non-Christians, obviously there are! It’s that, Christians claim to hold the scriptures up as our standard – a standard which unquestionably calls us to love, faithfulness, unity, and peace … not just purity (which seems the overarching obsession for so many). Of course, even a desire for purity (as admirable as it is) is no excuse for the horrifying behavior of many.

Why write this? Well, the current health care debacle is one reason (there is, after all, no excuse for the fear mongering, yelling, name calling and violence exhibited by those often claiming a Christian position). Another is the kind of behavior I see on Christian blogs and in churches. In none of these situations do people merely disagree… instead, they accuse and condemn. The first response, all-too-often, seems to be to go for blood and there is nothing Christian about it.

Let me be clear – I’m not arguing a specific position here in the health care debate (although I most certainly believe there is a correct one!) I believe it’s possible to hold a variety of positions on the issue and still be faithfully Christian (it certainly isn’t true that those in favor of a federally facilitated health care plan are “Nazi’s!) I also believe it’s possible to disagree on a variety of other issues (most, as a matter of fact) and still recognize each other as Christians and even biblical (rather than, as I read on a recent blog comment, condemning people as “liberal (read: weak on scripture, aggressive on moralistic good works)” – notable, whether one is condemned for being either heretically “conservative” or heretically “liberal” depends on which is the opposite of whatever the writer assumes himself or herself to be). For some reason, disagreement, between Christians, quickly turns into condemnation. Similarly, Christians all-too-frequently use condemnation and name-calling when condemning anyone they disagree with. Why?

Well, honestly, it doesn’t matter.

Such behavior has no place.

One of the underlying realities taught by the scriptures is that our actions matter (not for salvation, of course, but in response to salvation). Another is that we cannot justify inappropriate actions by our presumably admirable “ends.” In short, potentially good “ends” do not justify bad “means” – and fear mongering, name calling, condemnation, etc. are bad means.

Ghandi’s famous quote comes to mind here.

I’ll be the first to admit that I like a good argument as much as the next person (more than many), but even the most intense argument can be done within the bounds of Christian charity and kindness.

Imagine if we (Christians) were recognized for that!?

Grace and peace,
`tim

One of the best things about the Reformed tradition, in my opinion, is the fact that, throughout the ages, it has placed a heavy emphasis on educated pastors. This emphasis has become less and less important over the past several decades, yet the normative preparation for a minister in the Reformed Church in America still requires a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree, and this – to at least a certain degree – helps prevent (at least to some degree) churches from putting idiots in the pulpit. It also has allowed ministers to sit at the table with other professionals, like social workers, psychologists, lawyers, doctors, etc.

This professional collegiality becomes less of a reality as the qualifications for being a minister diminish (for example, up to 10% of a seminary’s students in a master’s program aren’t required to have a bachelor’s degree — we don’t want doctors who didn’t bother with college, but apparently it’s ok to have ministers who aren’t willing to take the time….) [For the record, I understand that this is meant as an "exception" but I've yet to see it invoked with someone who couldn't get a bachelor's degree.]

Having said all of that, I also understand the key problem with our system. To even candidate for a position as pastor, one needs to have completed (or be very close to) a master’s degree. That means that for the privilege of even applying to be a pastor (one of the lowest paying “professional” positions in the country), one needs to have figured out how to pay for at least seven years of education following high school. In short, to be a pastor in the RCA you either need to be independently wealthy (you can pay for it with family money), really lucky (someone, for some reason, decides to pay for it), or enter into your gloriously-low-paying job with debt dripping from your ears.

In my case, it’s student loans. I don’t come from money and no one graciously offered to pay for my seminary education. Add my student loans and my wife’s and we pay a mortgage-worth of school debt every month… this, merely to reach the most basic qualifications for our jobs.

This is a problem.

Wealth (or debt) should not be qualifications for ministry. On the other hand, neither do I believe lowering our expectations is a good option (although I’d argue it’s the one we’ve flirted most intently with in the RCA).

Yet, let’s be honest, we are never going back to the days where seminary tuition is denominationally covered (as it was when my grandfather went through).

What are we to do?

Let me offer two ideas:

The “Pay if you Quit” Approach
I actually think this is immediately do-able. Essentially, you put an individual’s seminary tuition costs into a 10-year loan (or 15). If they stay in a local church for that period of time, their seminary tuition costs are forgiven; if not, the costs are pro-rated and payed back at a normative student-loan interest.

For example. Let’s take the 10-year plan. If it costs $20,000 worth of tuition per student (some are more, others less), that’s $2,000 a year. If you minister in a local church for 10 years, you don’t pay any of it back. If you only stay in church-based-ministry 5 years, you pay back $10,000 (with interest set at normative student-loan rates). If you never work in the church, the entire $20,000 becomes a student loan – no big deal.

Why working in a local church? Because I believe it’s ministers preparing for local church ministry that seminaries ought to be focusing on not pre-PhD students or people preparing for denominational positions.

The “University of the People” Approach
I actually love this idea! The University of the People is a free university (albeit, yet unaccredited). Cool huh?! Read about it in the NY Times. I’m not sure how well it’d work for a general university degree; after all, tuition and salaries are part of how we pay for professors’ education, etc. However, I am convinced this would work for a seminary. It would only require two things: (1) scholarly-proven pastors to teach a course once in a while, and (2) theological professionals to do a tiny bit of pro-bono work once in a while.

There are hundreds of doctorally-educated pastors serving in local churches. Many of whom would both love to teach an occasional course and be highly qualified to do so. Add to that, theological professionals (of which there are many!) who could do a bit of pro bono work here and there. I’m not talking about a class a semester, I’m talking maybe 1 course a decade… really.. that’s all. Lawyers do pro-bono work… doctors do pro bono work. If pastors and theologians are professionals, a bit here and there wouldn’t hurt us either.

Make it a distance-learning system (like Western Seminary’s DL Program); use Open Source software; demand excellence from high-quality students, professors, and education (making no exception on any of them).

In the long run I don’t believe it does us well to lower the expectations of those we put in the pulpit – and no, as important as “life-experience” is (and as much as many seminary students need more of it), I do not believe it is an adequate substitute for education. And yet, there is a problem with the way we pay for theological education. Wealth or debt ought not to be basic qualifications for ministry….

Grace and Peace,
`tim

Yep, it rained today. It was chilly and overcast until about 10am and then it took of and started spritzing. No complaints really – I think I’d rather a cool-ish day with spritzes as opposed to a 100 degree day with humidity. It only got miserable during the last 6 miles (and last 3 big hills) when it moved from a reasonably pleasant spritz to an outright rain and got cold.

That said, it was a long a hilly day (72 miles; about a mile worth of climb). Tomorrow is a bit longer (77 miles) but less climb – about one big hill less.

Rumor has it that thunderstorms are threatened for tomorrow. We’ll have to see – I’ve learned to believe about 10% of what I hear as rumors on the route!

High lights of the day?

I got my first peace of pie (Rhubarb) and it was AWESOME, and I got my first sweet corn on the cob of the week – it was great too, and only $1, so I got a second.

Low Point of the Day?

Things are going well. I’m having a good time. If you want to follow a few comments during the day, you can follow my twitter feed (username: teejtc) or my facebook status updates (the two are the same).

Grace and Peace,
`tim