Tag Archives: fatherhood

Gift 17 – Hibernal Man Fires and the Like

Posted on by under Posts, Uncategorized

A “Hibernal Man Fire”—That’s what we called it.

Ingredients are as follows:

– 1 large circler pit dug out of the 3 feet of snow in our backyard.

– 1 bonfire in the middle of the clearing.

– 5 guys bundled in hats and coats gathered around the fire to read classic short stories.

– 1 full moon.

The guys and I had the idea for this “Hibernal Man Fire” while sitting in the library at school. We had all been feeling a little stir-crazy as the bitter winter months drudged slowly on, so we decided to do something about it. Yes, some good stories told around a fire in defiance of February’s crappiness was exactly what was needed (Plus, who doesn’t love fire any time of the year?).

It is random outbursts of craziness and life such as our “Hibernal Man Fire” that turn into wonderful traditions. In fact, we’re hoping to have another short story/bonfire combo soon (stories on deck: “The Machine that Won the War”; “The Most Dangerous Game”; “By the Waters of Babylon”; “Leiningen vs. The Ants”; “Lamb to the Slaughter”; “The Man by the Window.”)

Traditions are so important because they are always relational—they are things we do together, usually to celebrate, or to remember, or to simply to keep life from becoming mundane. And frankly, our culture stinks at them. What do we do to celebrate important milestones?… hmm…get wasted on our 21st birthday?

Oh. Great.

Son, it’s up to us to create traditions that nurture good things, admirable things, life-giving things, Dangeruss things. Here are a few ideas…

1. A 15-year-old Adventure. This means that when you or any of your siblings turn 15, we’ll plan a weeklong trip in the wild. Maybe we’ll canoe down Michigan’s Jordan River, or hike the Porcupine jordanMountains in the Upper Peninsula, or explore South Manitou Island, but wherever we end up going you can count on being challenged—and you might just learn a thing or two about the outdoors (and maybe about yourself, too). We’ll bring a book (preferably one of the Chronicles of Narnia ☺) to read around the fire at night before crawling into our really cool Cabelas Alaskan Guide tent (which I’ve already purchased in anticipation of our camping adventures).

2. Birthday gifts. This may sound fairly typical, but let me explain. I learned a few years ago that expecting great gifts is a surefire way to have a disappointing and/or insignificant birthday. It is way more fun to give awesome gifts to the people you care about (or to complete strangers…either way). So, while your mom and I will still probably give you a present or two, your main gift will be $100 to spend any way you choose, as long as it’s for other people. Be creative. Be generous. Have fun. (But be careful, this is how our family ended up with our crazy dog, Piper).

3. It’s-Not-About-You Trip. I heard about my principal’s family doing this and definitely want to copy their idea. When you turn a certain age, your mom and I want to take you on a mission trip to spend a week serving others. It’s easy for young teens to think that the world revolves around them…but it doesn’t. In fact, your life isn’t even about you. Seeing the conditions in which so many live around the world will challenge you to examine our culture’s concepts of entitlement, materialism, and self-centeredness.

4. Cousin Olympics. Ever since we had our first Cousin Olympics almost ten years ago I’ve been excited to plan this annual extravaganza for the next generation. We’ll spend three days at grandpa and grandma’s competing in all kinds of team activities such as archery, board games, relay races, swimming, dodgeball, kayak races, and many more. Traditions like this contribute to strong and healthy friendships between family members—friendships that last a lifetime.

5. Rite of Passage. Your uncles and I have been talking about having some kind of ceremony when you reach a certain age. Here’s the general plan: you’ll have about three hours to round up as many downed limbs from the woods as possible to collect in a giant pile. When time’s up, we’ll light the mound on fire (safely, of course ☺) and spend the evening gathered around sharing stories and advice. Each adult will tell one “success” story and one “failure” story as a way of offering guidance and advice to the younger one(s). At the end of the night we’ll give a blessing and welcome the new adult into the tribe.

There are so many other great traditions I want to start with our family and friends that I don’t have space to write them all down here (Note: Please feel free to comment below with traditions you currently have or hope to start in the future).

Our culture has lost its sense of ritual; we no longer think of identity in terms of community, but only as individuals. Creating traditions is a way of bringing us back together, of shaping a culture that values people more than things, and of making memories with the people we love. A good tradition can be a mini-revolution of life and friendship, and all the other good things in life worth coming together to celebrate.

Gift 1 – A Dangeruss Name

Posted on by under Favorites, Posts, Uncategorized

I remember waiting in the bathhouse with ten or so impatient campers.  We had an hour set aside to wash up before breakfast, but since there were only three working showers, the majority of time was spent standing around.  I had just finished shaving and had a good-sized gob of shaving cream left in my hand, so I decided to put it to good use.  “Line up!” I said; the awkward adolescents made their way over to see what I was going to do.  I went to the first boy, smudged my thumb with cream and began drawing lines on his face in what I hoped would look like some kind of native design.  “You are Wild Wolf,” I said in a deep voice, “Brave and true, a defender of the weak.  You will be a great leader of men…” and on and on.

I went on like this down the line of boys, giving each one a different shaving cream “war paint” design and a new name to go along with it.  I was improvising.  I was playing.  But I quickly discovered that they were not.  The young men hushed and drew close to hear what name I would say, to find out what kind of identity I would see and call out in them.  Each boy lifted his face to meet the “paint” while drinking in my words greedily, some even ran back to the cabin to grab a pen and page so they could remember their new name word for word.

What was happening?  Why had this little time-passing game taken on such meaning to these kids?  I quickly realized something I had been seeing all summer as a camp counselor: young people, boys especially, are desperate to find out just who they really are.  And if there’s no one there to show them the way, to see something good and alive and even daring in them; to call it out and nurture that identity, then surely they will look for a name somewhere else.

So I want to give my son a name.  I want to give him an invitation to be someone who has something real and important to do.  A few hundred years ago our communities needed young men, without whom they couldn’t survive.  Now all we need from them is to sit still until the bell rings.  And they know it.  So they go where they’re needed, even if they know it’s not right or even real.  Everything from gangs to video games—after all, aren’t most video games just a way of temporarily being someone else who has a significant role to play in an important story?

A good name is like a path in all this wandering wilderness—an invitation, a summons, a call to go a certain way.  Granted, a road still has to be walked for it to make any difference, but even so, it’s a start.  Names have been used like this in cultures all around the world for thousands of years, most famously in the biblical Hebrew culture, and I want to carry on the tradition.  That’s why my son’s middle name will be “Danger.”  And yes, I’m serious.  First, because what little boy wouldn’t want to be able to say that Danger is his middle name and actually be telling the truth?  And second, because I want my son’s name to be a constant reminder of God’s call and claim upon his life.  To be a doer.  To be an active participant in Christ’s unfolding Kingdom.  To be filled with the Holy Spirit of Jesus that is always dangerous and destructive to the Enemy’s causes.

Looking around (and I must confess, looking in the mirror), it seems we are under the impression that a Christian man is simply someone who thinks certain things, who believes certain things, who has certain “Christian” opinions.  But no matter how much we’d like to believe it, I don’t think our Enemy shutters at our opinions.  I don’t think he is threatened, dare I say, even by our beliefs.  It is only when the power of Christ’s boundless love takes root in one’s hearts that the fruit of action burst up all over to threaten the dominion of darkness.  This is dangerous.   And sadly, this is rare.

Being dangerous doesn’t always look how you’d think it would.  In a culture that prizes quick fixes and easy-way-out-solutions, it might simply mean being in one place for a while.  It might mean leaving your comfort zone to do the right thing.  It might mean being mocked and laughed at while going out of your way to befriend the friendless.  It might mean having the courage to tell the truth when telling a lie would produce better results.  It might mean being vulnerable so that others can lower their guard and feel safe.  Whatever it looks like, my son’s name will be a constant call to follow The Dangerous One, who relentlessly threatens the seeds of loneliness, despair, isolation, hatred, shame, and sorrow planted by our Enemy.  I want my son to know that being a follower of Jesus means being dangerous.