Monday, July 27, 2009

My Goodness

2 Thessalonians 1:11-12

I’ve been cleaning up my office, trying to get it in shape for Craig before I go on vacation. Last week I found this little book—it’s a reprint of a little manual for proper behavior from back in the late 1800s. The title is simply: ‘Don’t’

Some of the rules have to do with table manners, like this one: “Don’t tuck your napkin under your chin, or spread it upon your breast. Bibs are for the nursery.”

Others have to do with personal hygiene. “Don’t cleanse your ears, or your nose, or trim and clean your fingernails in public. These should be done in the privacy of one’s apartment only.”

Some of the rules are downright strange: “Don’t have the habit of smiling or grinning at nothing. Smile or laugh when there is occasion to do either, but at other times keep your mouth shut and your manner composed. People who laugh at everything are often capable of nothing.”

Another says: “Don’t be over familiar. Don’t strike your friends on the back, nudge them in the side, or give other physical manifestation of your pleasure. Don’t indulge in these familiarities, or submit to them from others.”

Women come in for some special rules: “Don’t over-trim your gowns or other articles of apparel. The excess in trimmings on women’s garments, now so common, is taste little less than barbaric, and evinces ignorance of the first principles of beauty.”

And finally, the author decides it’s important to comment on women’s diets: “Don’t indulge in confections or other sweets. It must be said that American women devour an immense deal of rubbish. If they would banish from the table pickles, preserves, pastry, cakes, and similar indigestible articles, and never touch candy…we would see their cheeks bloom like a rose.”

Too often we define goodness—being good—with a list of things that we don’t do. Some of you will remember the saying—it might actually be a parody of a real saying: ‘I don’t drink, smoke or chew, or go with girls who do.’ I actually did go out with someone who tried some of my chew in my wilder days, but we’ll leave that for another time.

The point is that as we think about goodness as one facet of the fruit of the Spirit, we’re going to have to get away from thinking of it as simply following a list of ‘don’ts’.

11With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith. 12We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

On the front of your bulletin you’ll find the text that’s guiding us through this summer series. The fruit of the Spirit is a new way of life, redeemed through Christ’s work and empowered to live in a new way through the Holy Spirit. The ‘fruit’ here is singular—it’s a list of nine qualities or behaviors that work together as an expression of what the Holy Spirit does in our lives—how God’s spirit shows in us as we grow in faith and service.

Notice that these are relational qualities—the Spirit’s fruit teach us how to live with God and with each other—with family and friends and even strangers. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control—all of these together describe a radically different way of relating to each other.

But it’s still important to remember that these are a package deal—there’s no picking and choosing here. It’s all or nothing.

The fruit of the Spirit—shown in all nine of these qualities—is the result of us allowing God to show us how to live in a different way.

Today we’re going to focus on where ‘goodness’ fits into this package deal.

The apostle Paul was the founder of the Thessalonian church, which was in a major port city in Roman-controlled Greece. There are two surviving letters to this church community, and in this one there are two important themes that he’s trying to communicate.

The first has to do with the Hebrew idea of the ‘Day of the Lord,’ the day when God would come and complete his plan for the salvation of his people. There was a disagreement in the church about whether or not this had already happened, and Paul spends part of his time helping them to understand.

But the other part of the letter has to do with living honorable lives as followers of Christ in a culture that was hostile to the faith. That’s where our passage comes in. Paul is praying for the Thessalonians—praying that they will live and behave in a way that reflects their relationship to God—that their actions would flow naturally from their faith in Christ.

We’ve been talking about these nine qualities that Paul calls the ‘fruit of the Spirit.’ That’s what he’s calling his readers to in our text today.

Think about the image of the fruit of the Spirit. The fruit of anything is the product that comes from the blending of ingredients or parts into something new—it’s what comes from the actions and reactions of all those pieces.

An apple isn’t simply made up of ground up seeds, water and fertilizer—who’d eat that? An apple comes out of the process that takes a fertilized seed, the right amount of water and nutrients and sunshine, and grows them into something completely different—something new and useful and delicious.

That’s how we can understand the goodness that comes from God—the goodness that enters into us by his Holy Spirit—the Christ-like goodness that joins with our gifts and skills and personalities to become something new and unique and precious.

When we think about it that way, ‘goodness’ becomes so much more than just following a list of rules.

Goodness becomes that way we live differently because of what God has done for us.

Goodness becomes the way God himself works in and through us.

Goodness ends up being the best way we communicate the truth of the Gospel to a world that doesn’t believe it anymore, but needs to hear it anyway.

Earlier this year I met someone at a party. We talked for a while, and then the host came by and introduced me as the minister here. The guy looked at me and blurted out something about how the church had no place teaching morality to contemporary society, because it had done a poor job of it in the past. Now I think he couldn’t have been more wrong, but I understood his point.

We have a lot to say about personal and social morality—about ethics and goodness—we just tend to say it poorly. When we focus on the rules we miss the chance to talk about the radical, transforming power of God in our lives—of what it means to have the God who made us and redeems us and gives us hope—to have that same Savior living and working in us and through us.

That’s what it means to be good—to show that part of the fruit of the Spirit that we call ‘goodness.’

But I know this isn’t easy. Being an agent of goodness in a world that would just as soon trample you as allow you to help is a hard thing. This past week I was rereading part of Stephen Carter’s book called Civility—it was published in the mid-90s. Carter is a law professor at Yale who writes on issues of ethics and morality, and also faith and public policy. Listen to how he described this concept of goodness in the context of Christ’s command to love our neighbors.

“In both Christianity and Judaism, the ability of the human to love other imperfect humans is a symbol of God’s love for his creation. That is the significance of Jesus’ calling on his followers to love one another as he has loved them. The idea that we are called upon to love because God loves is more solid, more satisfactory than the competing secular moral ideal of compassion…And yet, whether our motivation for treating our neighbor well is religious devotion, secular moral understanding or even simple self-interest, the one thing that remains crystal clear is that loving our neighbor is hard work.”

That’s true, isn’t it? Loving our neighbor—being good—showing the goodness of God in our lives and relationships—that’s all hard work. But it’s also a key part of what it means to be a Christian—to be a mature and maturing disciple of Jesus Christ.

When Germany occupied France in WWII, the Nazis forced local governments to turn over all Jewish citizens so they could be moved to concentration camps. Most of the towns and villages complied with the order, but in the little village of Le Chambon something very different happened. A minister in that town led his congregation, which represented most of the community, to resist the order and hide hundreds of Jews from the Nazis. This wasn’t just a household here and there, but virtually everyone in town played a part in the conspiracy. For the people of Le Chambon it was more important to live out their faith than it was to preserve their own safety—even their own lives.

After describing the terrible risks those people took to save their neighbors—to protect innocent lives even when it would have been easier to let the Nazis have their way—after telling the story of how a group of French villagers came to be examples of good in the world, the author who researched the story said this:

“Goodness is the simplest thing in the world, and also the most complex—like opening a door.”

Being agents of goodness in the world can be a challenging thing—because it’s hard—because it can be complicated sometimes. Goodness is challenging, but let’s be honest—few of us will ever have to face the same sort of challenges as the people of Le Chambon. But still, it’s a core part of what it means to be a follower of Jesus—it comes naturally, even when it’s hard—it flows naturally out of our belief that Christ is who he said he is, and that he’ll do what he promised he would do. It happens when we open the door to living life in a different way.

One writer said that this kind of discipleship-based goodness “is the visible proof that a [person] has really and gratefully grasped the new opportunity for existence” as a follower of Christ.

What does that mean for us? What does it mean for us to grasp a new opportunity for existence? Do you feel like you’ve grasped that new existence in your own life?

It goes against our mindset to hear what I’m about to say, but I’m convinced that it’s not only true, but that it’s the only way true goodness and the rest of the Spirit’s fruit can be present and active and flowing from our lives.

Are you ready for this?

The only way for this to work is to remember that the fruit of the Spirit is the Spirit’s fruit and not ours.

This is one of those places—one of those times in our lives of discipleship individually and as a community of faith—this is one of those times where we have to acknowledge that only God can make this happen. It’s one of those times when we have to step aside and allow the Spirit of God to do God’s work in our lives.

My prayer for us not only during this series but always, is that we’ll be wise enough and faithful enough and brave enough to allow the Holy Spirit to work in us and through us to shape us into the people we were meant to be all along.

My prayer for this place is the same one Paul prayed for the Thessalonians:

“We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Amen.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Kindness: Real 'Haute Couture'

Colossians 3:12

The Guardian ran a story a week or so ago on haute couture—on high fashion. Now I’m even less qualified to talk about fashion than I was last week to talk about patience—I’m a Men’s Wearhouse/Tie Rack kind of guy. But you know what I’m talking about. It’s that strange line of designer clothing that makes the news every year—designers spend millions on the dresses and shows, even though historically haute couture lines never turn a profit. I know I’m supposed to understand or at least appreciate this sort of thing as an art form, but to me it tends to look like tall women in enormous hats and tiny dresses, all looking as though they wish they could be somewhere else.

The comments I usually hear, even from people, even those who appreciate this stuff more than I do, go like this:

Where could anyone really wear an outfit like that?
When would I ever wear that?
Is that really useful?

Keep those questions in mind as we hear our text this morning. This passage comes in the middle of one of my favorite books in the New Testament. Paul’s letter to the Colossians is a guide to faith and practice not only in the 1st century, but today as well. In the 3rd chapter of the letter Paul is talking about how we align our lives to our faith in Christ (notice that it’s not the other way around). He’s encouraging his readers to set our hearts and minds on Christ as a regular part of our decision-making—as a part of the discipline of living in families and communities and society.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

On the front of your bulletin you’ll find the text from Galatians that is guiding us through this summer series. The fruit of the Spirit is a new way of life, redeemed through Christ’s work and empowered to live in a new way through the Holy Spirit. The ‘fruit’ here is singular—it’s a list of nine qualities or behaviors that work together as an expression of what the Holy Spirit does in our lives—how God’s spirit shows in us as we grow in faith and service.

Notice that these are relational qualities—the Spirit’s fruit teach us how to live with God and with each other—with family and friends and even strangers. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control—all of these together describe a radically different way of relating to each other.

But it’s still important to remember that these are a package deal—there’s no picking and choosing here. It’s all or nothing. The fruit of the Spirit—shown in all nine of these qualities—is the result of us allowing God to show us how to live in a different way.

Our text today shows us an important facet of how all the fruit of the Spirit function in our lives. Our text today reminds us that in the covenant relationship we enjoy with God, sometimes something is demanded from us.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

My friend Cameron preached on this passage a few years ago. He used the image of looking into a closet, trying to decide what to wear—how to look—what to communicate about ourselves—to the people with come into contact with. His point was that we have to choose how our lives will reflect God’s presence in us.

One of the fun parts for me of working through these nine qualities we call the ‘fruit of the Spirit’ has been seeing how the individual words have been used in other parts of the Bible. The word that Paul uses to mean ‘kindness’ evolved from a word in classical Greek that meant suitable and proper and…useful. The word was often used to describe a nice, mild wine, and more broadly, any food that was pleasing and satisfying.

In the Old Testament the word was used to describe the qualities of God—how he sustains us gently and lovingly, even when we’re less-than-perfect followers of him.

In the New Testament we return to an old use of this word. Luke uses it in his parable about new wine in old wineskins, and again later as a way of describing how generous we’re called to be to others—in light of how generous God has been with us.

But I’m drawn to this link between kindness and being useful.

Not just in a practical sense. There’s an important difference between usefulness and utilitarianism, where people and things are valued and defined by their function. The usefulness here is more like the experience of a good meal—something tasty and filling and nourishing and communal. Kindness, as Paul uses it, accomplishes something important for the body—for the church—for the Kingdom. By using this word for ‘kindness’ Paul is describing a sort of holy usefulness.

Tomorrow we remember the 40th anniversary of the first people to walk on the moon. I met Buzz Aldrin here in London a few weeks ago—he still looks like he could take on another moon mission. The anniversary of the moon landing is bringing back my childhood memories of that day. I can remember all of us gathered around our state-of-the-art black and white TV, listening to Walter Cronkite describe the events taking place. I can remember Neil Armstrong’s words about small steps and giant leaps.

But my favorite memory of that day came after my friends and I got bored watching the news reports and cooked up an idea for turning it all into a game. The three of us got backpacks and our football helmets (mine was in the old blue and white colors of the LA Rams), and went to the park to re-enact the landing. What I remember most is walking very slowly, pretending we were trudging along in zero gravity. I’m not sure how we decided who was who, or what we did with the third kid. Maybe we had him circle the park as Michael Collins. I do remember that we had a great time doing it.

Hard to imagine that was 40 years ago—getting back to the moon seems like such a remote possibility these days. One of the main reasons the US and other nations stopped going to the moon is the enormous cost of planning and executing missions like that. But so many of the inventions that came from the space program have become central to our lives—so many useful things came out of the research that made space exploration possible.

Have you ever seen the list of inventions from the space program that improve our lives today?

Baby food, satellite dishes, padding for shoes, high-resolution body scans, the ear thermometer, smoke detectors, firefighter protection, cordless tools like dustbusters and drills and saws. We have the space program to thank for the joystick controllers we use in our video games, the Teflon that prevents so many kitchen disasters, and also for pens that will write in zero gravity. Now about the pens, NASA spent something like $25000 developing a pen that would write in space. The Russians simply gave their cosmonauts pencils.

But apart from that, so many useful things came out of the creativity and enormous investment that it took to send those astronauts into space.

In our text today, and in the list of the fruit of the Spirit, what we see is a call to live as people who have received a great gift from God—a gift that came at a huge cost—the call to show a genuine, useful sort of kindness as a mirror or reflection of the kindness God has shown us. One writer said that Paul’s “purpose is to show the meaning of kindness in the life of a [person] whom Christ has grasped…As a direct outworking of God’s love, it is always alive and active, breaking out spontaneously in the life of a [person] who is led by Christ.”

How often do you feel “grasped” or “led” by Christ?

How often do you see this useful, nourishing sort of kindness breaking out spontaneously in your life?

I don’t think I experience this nearly enough, and yet it’s so central to the life God calls us to—it’s so central to the life we can live when the Spirit gets in and starts to work in us and through us. But it begins with us making a choice to clothe ourselves, as God’s people, holy and dearly loved, with “compassion, kindness, gentleness and patience.”

I went to the National Prayer Breakfast here in London a few weeks ago. All around Westminster Hall there were church and political leaders talking about big programs and all the great things they wanted to do. At one point a young Irish folk singer named Foy Vance went up front and sang for the entire gathering.

The song was called “An Indiscriminate Act of Kindness,” and it told the story of a desperate young woman who stumbled into a hotel tired and cold and broke. She asked for a room, but made in clear that she had no way to pay for it. The concierge showed compassion to her and gave her a room, dried her off, and sat with her as she cried.

In the morning the young woman says to the concierge: “What you did for me was hard to believe.” But he said back to her: “I was only doing what was right. No one who knows love could leave you out there on such a night.” If you can help someone, bear this in mind, and consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness.”

There’s a temptation for us to see ‘kindness’ and the rest of the fruit of the Spirit simply as nice personal qualities to have, like clean hands or fresh breath. When we do that we miss the point. We miss the radical, transforming power of relating to each other and the world in a new way. We miss the way that all nine of these examples of the Spirit’s work demonstrate the presence of the Kingdom of God in the world.

That takes me back to my friend Cameron, and his image of staring into the closet and deciding what to wear.

As followers of Jesus—as people who have known love—Paul’s words to the Colossians leave us with some questions:

How do we want to look to the people around us?

How do we choose a way to look and to be that communicates the work of God’s Spirit in each of our lives?

As we stand in front of the mirror and prepare to meet the world, what do we reflect about how God loves us, how he forgives us, and how his kindness changes our lives forever?

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

That’s real high fashion—not the kind you see on the catwalk, and not the kind you’ll see in any magazine, but it’s the life we’re called to—the sort of life that changes the world one indiscriminate act of kindness at a time.

My prayer for us as we move through this season of looking at how the Spirit works in our lives—my prayer for myself and each person here, is that we’ll clothe ourselves with the love and compassion and useful kindness we see in the Scriptures. Not just so that we’ll be nicer people, but so we can share the blessings we’ve received from God to a tired, hungry world. Amen.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Patience: Waiting and Waiting

James 5:7-11

Samsung has a new handheld device on the market, and they’re pushing it with a splashy marketing campaign. The tag in the commercials and on the billboards is simple: “Impatience is a virtue.” Now we know that Samsung’s sales pitch is a twisting around of an old saying: “Patience is a virtue.’ That saying is one of a handful that seem as though they came from the Bible, but really didn’t. Like “God helps those who help themselves”, or “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” Neither of those is in the Bible…sorry.

But what about the saying, “patience is a virtue”? Does that mean anything for us? Isn’t the idea of ‘virtue’ a little outdated? And patience. Do we think of patience as an important behavior or has it lived out its usefulness for us? Samsung didn’t start their campaign without expecting to tap into a feeling out there—or in here—that will help them sell some phones. So what about it? Is patience a virtue?

One definition of patience reads like this: "Patience is the ability to endure waiting, delay, or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset, or to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties."

But patience is a lot more than just being able to do the Zen thing when we’re faced with a long line at the grocery store, or too much traffic on the roads. It’s more than just mindlessly waiting.

Patience is central to what it means to be a mature Christian—a follower of Jesus Christ who seeks to be an agent of his Kingdom. Let’s see what our text teaches about that.

7Be patient, then, brothers, until the Lord's coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains. 8You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord's coming is near. 9Don't grumble against each other, brothers, or you will be judged. The Judge is standing at the door!
10Brothers, as an example of patience in the face of suffering, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. 11As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job's perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy.


On the front of your bulletin you’ll find the text that is guiding us through this summer series. The fruit of the Spirit is a new way of life, redeemed through Christ’s work and empowered to live in a new way through the Holy Spirit. The ‘fruit’ here is singular—it’s a list of nine qualities or behaviors that work together as an expression of what the Holy Spirit does in our lives—how God’s spirit shows in us as we grow in faith and service.

Notice that these are relational qualities—the Spirit’s fruit teach us how to live with God and with each other—with family and friends and even strangers. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control—all of these together describe a radically different way of relating to each other.

But it’s still important to remember that these are a package deal—there’s no picking and choosing here. It’s all or nothing. The fruit of the Spirit—shown in all nine of these qualities—is the result of us allowing God to show us how to live in a different way.

The James who wrote our text is considered to be the brother of Jesus himself. He’s also the head of the Jerusalem Council, one of the earliest organizations of the Christian movement. It’s a pretty early letter—he describes a fairly simple order for leading a church, and he still refers to local congregations as synagogues instead of churches. The audience for the letter is clearly Jewish—the Christians who started out in Judaism before converting to Christianity.

The best known part of James’ letter is his teaching about the relationship between faith and action. Where most of the New Testament seems to place a higher value on what we believe over what we do, James pretty bluntly shifts the balance the other way. In the first chapter he says: “Don’t just listen to the word—do what it says.” He says in chapter 2 that “faith without deeds is dead.”

By the time we get to our passage, James has made a case for what life in the community of faith is supposed to be like. He makes a strong case against discrimination in the church, and sets faith and action as the only measures of value or status among the followers of Christ.

Right before our text James has some strong words for rich people who oppress the poor—people who hoard their wealth but neglect to treat their employees fairly. We won’t go into that part of the letter right now, but trust me, you don’t want to be that person.

The point here is that our passage was written in the context of a longer discussion about how we’re supposed to live and behave as people who enjoy God’s love and grace and forgiveness.

In our passage we see patience tied to the natural progression of things. James says: “See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its crop…and how patient he is?” It’s like the quote from Fred Brooks, a famous project manager, who reminds his clients that “the bearing of a child takes nine months…no matter how many women are assigned.”

The word that James uses for patience has a special meaning in the Bible. It doesn’t have anything to do with being passive, in fact, the root of the word is actually ‘wrath.’ That’s right. As strange as it sounds, the root of the word used to describe ‘patience’ as an expression of the fruit of the Spirit—that root is ‘wrath’ or ‘anger.’

But in the form we find it, the word that describes this special kind of patience in the New Testament actually means to restrain wrath, to put it off for a later date, to endure present troubles and sufferings and debts, and to hold off on claiming our right to punish—to show our wrath.

So the opposite of patience isn’t impatience or hastiness. The opposite of patience as a fruit of the Spirit is wrath—it’s retribution, it’s demanding a price for sin.

The other place we see this same word is in the parable of the Unmerciful Servant in Matthew 18. This is one of the parables of Jesus that focuses on forgiveness. A king is checking over his accounts and finds that one of his servants owes him 10,000 talents—an absurd amount of money—something like a billion pounds today—an amount he could never pay pack. When he can’t pay and is about to lose everything, he begs the king: “Be patient with me!” Literally: postpone your wrath.

The king says yes, but the servant goes out immediately and demands payment from someone who owes him a hundred denarii—maybe just a few pounds. When the man can’t pay and is about to be punished, he says the same thing.

In both cases the one who owes the debt says: “Be patient with me.” Postpone giving me what I deserve. Let me have more time. Hold back from taking out your wrath on me.

The point is that all of us have had a debt forgiven that we never could have paid back on our own. All of us have experienced the mercy of that servant who owed a billion pounds, only to have his debt forgiven. The point is that being a recipient of that kind of grace—that kind of patience—calls us to be generous and forgiving—to restrain our own wrath—to be patient—in our dealings with each other and with strangers.

Last night I watched Dr. Strangelove, one of the great dark comedies to come out of the Cold War era. A character in the film played by George C. Scott wanted to destroy the Soviet Union so bad he could taste it. In one scene he’s in such a rush to make his point that he falls down as he crossed from one side of the room to another. It was really an accident—George C. Scott was so into his character, so hell-bent on pushing the button, that he slipped and fell, and then he got up and kept going with the scene. Stanley Kubrick left the fall in the movie because it fit the point he was trying to make.

Patience isn’t just sitting serenely by, passively doing nothing in our relationships with God and each other and the world. Patience is the disciplined restraint we show to people who delay us or hurt us or wrong us. It’s the foundation for the line in the Lord’s Prayer where we say ‘forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.’

The implications of this are limitless. If true patience is holding off on claiming our rights or the claiming of a debt from someone who’s done something to us, then that has an impact on the way we treat people close to us—the way we treat strangers on the street or the bus—it even affects the values we choose in the people we elect to lead us.

Patience is so much more than just waiting. Patience is extending the same mercy and love and forgiveness to people around us as God has shown to us. It’s forgiving and withholding punishment, instead of being in such a rush to destroy that we fall all over ourselves in the process. That’s a huge thing. That’s a radical way to live and interact with our families and friends and communities. That’s what living life in the power of the Holy Spirit looks like and feels like and tastes like.

It may not make sense in the values of a world that’s rejected God—a world that thinks it might be too smart to believe in a God. But for those who have received mercy—for those who have experienced the forgiveness that comes from Christ’s atoning work for us—and for those who have allowed the Holy Spirit to work in and through their lives, this kind of patience is truly life-changing.

How would this kind of patience—this kind of waiting—change your life? How would it change your job? Your family? How would it transform the way you live and act in this city or anywhere?

My prayer for all of us as we make this journey together through the fruit of the Spirit, is that God will reach into each one of our lives, that he’d fill us with his Spirit, and make us into the people he made us to be. Amen.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Ian's First Climbing Lesson

Some friends here in London invited Ian to do a little climbing. I was wondering how he'd do (he said he didn't want to go at first), but he really took to it. There's a great climbing wall at a rec center near our house (Swiss Cottage), and that's where these pictures were taken.