Each year all of the STM volunteers and staff meet at the camp a day early for orientation and training, which culminates in a commissioning service a few hours before the families arrive.

This was the third time I’ve been a part of a family retreat so I had a general idea of what to expect. 

During the commissioning service, they usually have a hand-washing – the JAF staff washes the volunteers hands to symbolize servant hood and pray over the STMs.. It’s a pretty powerful visual in which I (conveniently) miss due to providing background music. “Noodling”, is what we call it. As I noodled, the hand-washing line diminished and the JAF Greater Philadelphia director, Jerry Borton began to commission the group.

I should mention too that the theme of the week was from Nehemiah 8:10, “The joy of the Lord is my strength”. We all had t-shirts with this verse written on the back.

As Jerry talked, my noodling gave way to a specific progression. Not complicated, but competent to carry the mantra, “The joy of the Lord/the joy of the Lord/the joy of the Lord is my strength”.

Jerry continued his benediction by having everyone look to their right and then to their left, to illustrate that they were all in this together.

As I repeated the lines “The joy of the Lord…” to myself, the first verse poured right from Jerry’s mouth through my guitar. I found out later from Jerry that what he was saying was off-script. He was just feeling led by the Spirit and speaking from that honest space.

Sometimes, as a songwriter, I labor over words and notes for years before a song is carved and refined into existence. Other times it feels like a picture has been snapped by a Polaroid and my role is to vigorously shake the photo until i realize, along with everyone else what it is I’m looking at.

This experience was the latter. Jerry took a picture of what the Spirit was doing in that room and I was blessed enough to see the photo and pass it around for the rest of the week.

This is “My Strength”

The joy of the Lord/The joy of the Lord/The joy of the Lord/Is my strength

There will be trials/There will be pain/When your strength is gone/His remains

Look to your left/Look to your right/You’re not alone/In this fight

The joy of the Lord/The joy of the Lord/The joy of the Lord/Is my strength

He’s gone before /He stands behind/Legions of angels/Are by you side

You have been sealed/You have been freed/You are adopted/Into the King’s family

The joy of the Lord/The joy of the Lord/The joy of the Lord/Is my strength

My Strength – this is a very rough demo that I recorded with my phone. I usually would not post something this rough, but there is something special to me about capturing this minutes after the commissioning service – you can even hear the STMs in the background preparing for their camper families to arrive.

http://youtu.be/bklNWWoJyzE

Author’s note: It was all I could do to not title this post “12 Years a Banker” with a photo-shopped picture of myself in the place of Chiwetel Ejiofor from this poster… You may now applaud my maturity in discerning from such bad taste.

There are at least three reasons that this is big news for us. The first being that full time ministry has been something that Jess and I have been praying about and working towards for some time now. This opportunity is a huge answer to prayer for us!

Another reason this is a big deal for us is that it will be very difficult to leave our current church home, Upper Perkiomen Community Church. It has been almost 6 years now that we have been a part of this ministry in some form. We relocated to the Upper Perk area to be closer to the community. We watched our boys take their first steps here. Not to mention the relationships built through the church and community. Believe me, as excited as we are about this opportunity, it was not an easy decision to make to leave.

The last reason is, that after all these years I am going back to the church that I grew up in. The youth group that had such an impact on me is now the youth group that I will help lead. The musicians that gave me piano lessons and showed me how to play guitar (at least some good, bluegrass guitar), will be some of the musicians I get to play alongside of. At the end of my interview, one of the elders asked me how it felt to be back after all these years. I said good, but also weird! Never had I dreamt that I’d stand on that stage to lead worship– let alone with a drum set and electric guitar behind me!

One of the songs that I got to lead while I was going through the interview process at Faith was “Come As You Are” by Crowder (not Cobain…). A line in the chorus is, “Oh wanderer, come home. You’re not too far”. I have to admit that it gave me chills when I sang those words in that sanctuary. To think that all this time, God had been putting together this plan. While our true home can never be completely found in a church, spouse or geographical location, it is still comforting to know that all of our wandering (as believers) is still within God’s perfect plan. Andrew Peterson phrases is it this way “But not everyone who wanders is lost, cause every road I walk is in the palm of Your hand.” Amen!

Social media has certainly changed the way we interact with each other as a community.  I will let you all argue over the positives and negatives of that, but this particular story is positive. A few years back I had this idea for a song based on the idea in Scripture that we love because Christ first loved us.  My wife and I are part of a church plant that really desired to demonstrate Christ’s love to each other.  We had witnessed first-hand how the church community sought to be there for each other, whether it be providing dinners for a family that had just welcomed a newborn into their home, or buying a brand new refrigerator for a family’s whose just broke down. We were in a church community that was looking out for each other.  I thought about that a lot and considered how it all stemmed back from Christ’s love for us – His love initiated our love for Him and each other.

So I wrote a chorus.

We love because You first loved us

We give because it’s You we trust, oh Lord

You are the owner of all

We forgive because You first forgave

Rise up because You first were raised for us

And now we give You our all

Because

I was having a bit of trouble with the verses so it occurred to me that I should just ask the members of our church why they followed Christ.  So I took to Facebook. I went on our church’s page and posted the question – why do you follow Jesus? Within a few hours I had more than enough responses to complete the verses. And for the most part, the verses are pretty much directly taken from those responses.  Sure, I had to arrange some words here and there for rhyming purposes and yes, I did make some minor adjustments for the sake of sound theology.  But before I knew it, I had co-written a praise song with my church!

I had always wanted “Because” to be a song that we could sing together as a community, but had no idea how much of a community song it could be! Every time I hear it now, I’m reminded of that Facebook thread.  Brothers and sisters recounting the ways that God’s grace had become real in their lives.

You can listen to “Because” here.

But the best thing that happened today was that a co-worker asked me what Christianity was.  I immediately got nervous. I thought she was joking and asked her for clarity.  Her response was something like, “Well, you’re like a pastor right? So what is Christianity?”  (by the way, I really want to get business cards made up that say, “Dan Harney; Like a Pastor”). I got nervous-er.  My mind flooded with all of my social-media rhetoric of what Christianity is NOT.  But then, in a single moment of Spirit-led clarity I uttered, “It’s Jesus – It’s all about Jesus.  Christianity is the belief that Jesus was God in the flesh and died for our sins and rose from the dead so that we could be free.”

I was amazed that this subject just “came up”.  I am not much of an evangelist, yet here I was, talking about how much Jesus loves you and wanted a relationship with you. In our church, one of our core values is utilizing natural opportunities for evangelism.  I guess it doesn’t get more natural than somebody just asking you what Christianity is.

I hate to disappoint, but there was no alter call.  No tear-stained sinner’s prayers. In the end the only tears shed were my own. As I began to personally relay to my coworkers why I believed that Jesus was who He said He was, the story of the woman at the well came to my mind.  I felt my self getting choked up as I shared the story of how Jesus knew that this Samaritan woman’s heart thirsted for more than just what water from a well could offer.  She longed for more than what her past husbands and current boyfriend could offer.  Her heart cried for something eternal. Something real.  Something that only He could fulfill because He’s the one that created her with the vacuum.

In that instant I was overwhelmingly reminded how powerful this gospel is.  That while I couldn’t answer all of the questions my co-worker had about why God allows what He allows to happen, the question that the gospel does answer regarding the deepest need of our soul is far more profound than what is unknown.

As I write this, the words “Well I’m a long way from the hill of Calvary, and I’m a long way from where I was and where I need to be” are playing in my earbuds.  Amen Bono. Amen. I have no idea what seeds the Holy Spirit planted today, but I’m very thankful that God used the experience to remind me how powerful the gospel is.  I’m thankful that the process of where I was and where I need to be is in God’s hands and the same is true of my co-workers.

And I’m thankful for free U2.

Social Media is a blessing and a curse on a night like this.  On the very sad heels of the breaking news that Robin Williams has passed away, it is encouraging, on one hand, to see all the lives that one man touched over the years.  The many people that he brought laughter to.  The stories that were brought to life through the characters that he portrayed.  The many quotable lines we repeat to each other from the movies he was in. 

On the other hand, it took mere minutes for the other posts to begin rolling in.  Posts about how we shouldn’t be this upset about a Hollywood actor passing away. Posts about how sad it is that this guy’s getting all the press while true atrocities are going unnoticed. Posts about how Christians like me should repent of idolizing Hollywood and come back to the reality of the spiritual war I am amidst.

The thing is, I get it. And they’re right.  In the realm of eternity, an actor passing away, whom I never once met, is not the worst thing happening tonight.  The media does glorify stories like this while (purposefully, it seems) ignoring greater devastation in the world. And we are in the middle of a great spiritual war that I am all too often distracted from by the glorification of celebrity.

So I guess what I want to say in the midst of all these things being true, is that this one thing, Robin Williams passing away, still sucks.  I still miss and mourn a man that I never met. I’m still saddened by the loss of a great artist, whom I never knew. And I very much feel a sense of loss for the pain that his depression caused and the tragic decision he made to end it all.

When I was young – like-junior-high-young – I didn’t do too well socially.  I was insecure, chubby, and was raised by (very loving) grandparents that were at least two decades behind in my fashion options.  And I know, this time of life wasn’t a picnic for anyone, but it always seemed that everybody else had that something to get them through it – like sports, girlfriends/boyfriends, looks, etc…  Since I didn’t have those things, I leaned on the only thing that I did have – a sense of humor.  So while everyone else was trying out the latest acne medication or getting new Bugle Boys, I was staying up late watching the masters.  Billy Crystal, Jerry Seinfeld and, of course Robin Williams.  For better or for worse these were my best friends during those years. I’d watch their shows and movies over and over again and then reenact them in the mirror of my bedroom.  I’d try out the jokes in school the next day (not always the best venue for some of the material…) and at the very least find the courage to let myself go – do whatever it took for the laugh.

Years later, when I started to somewhat balance out socially, I discovered the dramatic arts.   I began to appreciate those artists that could immerse themselves in a character for the greater purpose of telling a story. Some of those stories changed my life and helped me to understand truth more clearly.  As I write this, Robin William’s portrayal of a community college psychology professor comes to mind (so much so that I was compelled too re-watch Good Will Hunting just now).  While I had always known that relationship, mentorship and vulnerability were essential to life, I never quite saw it demonstrated as well as I did in that movie. Sean Maguire’s empathy and transparency with Will modeled to me what true friendship and accountability could look like.  In many ways, it reminded me of men already in my life that had gone out of their way to offer me direction and support. 

For me, it doesn’t really feel like some random Hollywood actor died.  It feels like I lost a friend – or as my friend Matt Martinez put it, at least an uncle.  Someone whom, despite me not personally knowing, still impacted me in very real ways. And I realize that this loss won’t affect everyone in the same way and that’s okay. I also realize that there are a great many other things in this world that deserve our prayers and attention.  But tonight, I remember Robin Williams.

In conclusion:

“Bangarang” 

“Oh Captain my Captain”

“It was a drive-by fruiting”

“It’s not your fault”

“You’re the shepherd” (this one works best in a Boston accent)

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about that widow in the Old Testament – the one who was visited by Elijah… or Elisha… always get those guys confused. Anyway, she is asked by the prophet to prepare him something to eat.  She responds that she only has enough ingredients to make her and her son their last meal.  But the prophet asks her to make them all something to eat and assures her that in the days to follow they will never run out of oil and flour.  Sure enough, each time the widow went back to her oil jar, there was enough to make food for her and her son.

I’m not sure how long that miracle lasted for the widow and her son (a week, month, forever…), but I wonder if she ever lost sight of the miracle and got distracted by how dependent it made her on God.  I wonder if she ever got proud and wished to herself that she just had enough money to buy the food she needed for her and her family instead of relying on the daily ration that this miracle provided.  Even as I type this I’m annoyed by that line of thinking – how arrogant to not appreciate this gift from God!  Scripture doesn’t lead us to believe that she ever struggled with those thoughts, but I have to be honest in saying that I have been struggling very much with that kind of pride.

2013 was a rough year for our family.  We experienced stresses that we had never encountered as a family before, at least financially. Yet every time we thought that maybe we were at the end of ourselves there seemed to be just enough oil in our jars. When our finances seemed to be unmanageable, someone volunteered to help us formulate a budget.  When our dryer broke and we had no idea how to replace it, our church bought us a brand new one. When we ran out of heating oil unexpectedly we received an anonymous financial gift that covered the expense to purchase more (and yes, the “oil” metaphor is not lost on me).

I’m ashamed to say that even amidst all of these miraculous blessings, my pride crept in.  I don’t want “charity”.  I don’t want to have to depend on others to provide for my family. I don’t want to keep going back to the same oil jars to find “just enough”.  I want to be comfortable and self-sufficient. 

I was expressing some of these thoughts to my friend, Scott Roth over breakfast this morning.  He brought up an interesting point that I didn’t get right away but has come back to haunt me in the hours since (as does much of what Scott says to me…).  He said that when Jesus prayed for God to “give us this day, our daily bread”, perhaps that was to acknowledge our daily, reoccurring need for God to sustain us.  Yes, it is a thank-you to God for providing, but also an understanding that we need that provision from him constantly. Our comfort is not God’s priority, but our conformity to Christ is.  Jesus didn’t concern himself with where the next meal was coming from because he knew that God would provide it (that, and he could do that cool trick with bread and fishes…).  But Jesus did concern himself with God’s mission.  And since the mission of God is to bring about His Kingdom, as long as we seek that Kingdom first, the rest will be provided.

So I guess the kingdom-reality that I am ever realizing is that there really is no such thing as my money. Or your money.  There is just God’s grace and He distributes that as He sees fit.  Sometimes monetarily. Sometimes through a word of wisdom shared over a cup of coffee. Sometimes through a dryer or heating oil.  But if I have to resolve anything for 2014 it is that I try not to lose sight of the miracle again.  Every day I need to go back to those oil jugs and thank God for what he has provided in whatever way he chooses to provide it.

The other night I had a dream that I got to meet members of my favorite band, U2. I was asking them questions about songs and sharing how much their music meant to me – it was truly a great dream! But in my dream, Bono was unable to be there. I remember reasoning with myself during the dream that it’s understandable that he wouldn’t be there – he’s probably having lunch with the Pope or digging wells in Africa or something like that. But after I woke up and throughout that day, it really started to bother me that he wasn’t there. Not necessarily that Bono was too busy for my dream, but that my subconscious was unable to suspend enough reality for him to show up in my dream too. I mean, it was just a DREAM after all!!

So I’m going to try to work on my regularity with this blog.  I owe it to you, my loyal readers and subscribers – both of you.

For my first step to this goal, I thought that I would throw out some ideas for future blog subjects.  Please let me know what you think about them.

1. A Behind the Song Series – I’ve been wanting for some time to document the origins of the songs I have written.
2. A Behind the Politics Series  – One of the things that I think is most destructive about the polarized, political culture we live in is that we often forget  about the human being behind the ideal.  That their personal journey led them down a road to believe a certain set of principles. We will never all agree, but I think we owe it to each other to attempt to understand the different perspectives.
3. A Song of the Week – this may just be a song that I like and want to share, or perhaps a song that you’d like to introduce me to in hopes for it to become the song of the week.   Not sure exactly what else we coulddo  with this.  I love hearing why people like the songs and artists that they do, so perhaps we will include those stories as well

I’m open to any ideas that you might have as well, so please share them with me. Ultimately, a blog is only as good as the conversation it starts.  That is what I’m interested in and hope that some blog regularity can achieve.

I have the privilege of co-leading a men’s group from our church. This past week we had one of our first meetings and I was excited to host it at our home. Jess and I don’t have a large living room, but we figured that the space we had could comfortably handle four or five people. We also knew though, that if we were going to have anyone over, we would have to do something that neither of us excelled at – clean.

So on Monday we set out to make the Harney home acceptable in the sight of our peers (at least the rooms we knew they’d be in…). One of the biggest areas of concern was the bathroom, and I must say that Jess took on that challenge and did a great job! But I was more worried about some of the “stuff” that can sometimes be found in the bathroom. You know, all those embarrassing medications and/or ointments that can sometimes not find their way back into the medicine cabinet. This problem gets worse by the way, when you have kids – cause they find things and leave them all over the house. I once found a pregnancy test (unused and wrapped, thankfully) underneath my 2 year-old’s bed!

All of this cleaning had me running a little late, so as I was taking one last patrol of the restroom to make sure that any incriminating evidence was concealed, I noticed something. A small, container of… well… anti-inflammatory pads, was left out in plain view. I thought to myself, “phew – that could’ve been embarrassing! What if the guys saw that and thought they were mine and not just something I had purchased for a senior citizen friend of mine. I sure am glad that I don’t need that stuff!!” (that’s right, I thought all of that). As I looked around to relocate the item, I noticed some towels that were out of place. As I mentioned before, I was running late and in a hurry, so in tending to the towels, I forgot all about the container and left it in a far more visible place than it had been. (as seen above)

I didn’t notice my mistake until the next day, and Jess and I had a good laugh about it. That is also when it occurred to me that my little hygiene-product mis-step was a metaphoric betrayal to the very kind of men’s group that I was trying to lead. Here I am running around like a dork trying to hide any embarrassing truth about myself, and at the same time I was asking my fellow group-mates to not hold back and strive to keep it real with each other – when I can’t even own up to having problems of my own.

Please know that I’m not advocating that we advertise our “bathroom” problems to the world (advice that should’ve been considered prior to me blogging), but that we can’t expect real, heart to heart connections if we’re not willing to leave our emotional and spiritual medicine cabinets open.

It’s difficult to conclude a post like this, so I pray that my point got across and it was of some value to you. I also wanted to note that it took great restraint and personal discipline to not litter this blog with off-color puns and potty-humor. Sure, it may have scratched an immediate itch, or soothed the burning of my pride to do so, but I’ve always thought that it is much classier to simply state your point out-right. Readers would be squirming uncomfortably in their chairs if I were to pile on the jokes, and no one wants those… I mean that. I just mean that we all want a comfortable end – ending!

Amen