Reflections of a Running Reverend

Taking-off from Mile 6 - Photo by: West Gateway Trails So I ran the Winter Solstice Marathon in Willow this past weekend. And like I said in my previous post, I was doing it as a prayer run. I was " running for those who can't ." On the solstice, the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, I was running for those who are in the darkest times of their lives and longest nights of their souls. A colleague of mine said she felt the prayers. She even mentioned a specific time of the day when she felt it! I have also been getting emails and messages from friends, thanking me for running the dark path with them.   On the eve of the race, I sent a text message to a friend with a link to my blogpost and the words: "I'll be running for you tomorrow." My friend texted back with a heartfelt message expressing thanks and ending with, "Now I know... I will never be alone."   Now I know I will never be alone. Isn't that the good news...

I am running the Willow Winter Solstice Marathon this Saturday. It will be another prayer run for me. This time, I'm running for those who can't. Let me explain. From its name, the Willow Marathon is held on a Saturday closest to the winter solstice, the day when the darkness is longest. In some churches, a Longest Night or Blue Christmas service is held and is specifically planned to minister to those who are in the midst of darkness during this season of joy and cheer. It is for those to whom Christmas is a burden because of certain life situations they are in. For those of you who are in the longest nights of your souls, for you who are living in the darkness of your life situations, I dedicate this run to you. This is for you who have lost loved ones, and you who are going through difficult times. This is for you who are going through painful divorces, you who are worn-out trying to work it out and you who are going through stressful life transitions. This is for...

There is no other time I feel more disconnected from the Philippines, than at Christmas time. It's just not the same! Now don't get me wrong. Celebrating Christmas here in Alaska over the past 6 years has been meaningful. But there are certain nuances, certain traditions and ways of celebrating that are unique to my homeland that I truly miss and crave. And the disconnect from friends and loved ones back home is truly magnified during this season. Listening to Filipino Christmas carols in my car or from my computer usually brings tears to my eyes as my soul acknowledges this disconnect. Thankfully, the wonders of technology allow me and my family to connect with our loved ones across the seas. Being disconnected is a reality we have to deal with as residents of Alaska. In my traveling to the different ministry contexts around the state, the reality of isolation became very evident, more so in the contexts like Nome and Unalaska. Yet even in churches on the road system, it...

A couple of years ago, I was asked to write an article about Advent on the Faith Blog of the ADN (then Anchorage Daily News). I was asked to reflect on the theme: Advent as an Antidote for Acquisition or Consumerism. I thought I'd share that with you today as we begin our Advent waiting. Advent provides an alternative to the commercialism that has come to define the holidays. It calls us to a time of waiting. It is a time of preparation, calling us to focus on what we truly celebrate during Christmas – the birth of Christ. More than just a countdown to Christmas, the progressive lighting of candles on an Advent wreath give us themes meant to light our way through the season. We are called to HOPE. And it’s not just hoping for gifts under the tree. Advent calls us to dig deep within and name what it is our hearts are truly hoping for. We are also called to find PEACE, which is an antithesis to the hustle and bustle of the season. As my m...

I am a first generation immigrant from the Philippines. My wife and I, together with our older son, came to America in 2008 when I was appointed to serve the United Methodist Church of Chugiak here in Alaska. Our younger son was born here. As an immigrant family, adjusting to life and ministry in a foreign land had its challenges. Transitioning to ministry here was the easy part, almost seamless, thanks to the United Methodist connectional system which makes us do things in distinct, almost similar or at least recognizable ways wherever we are in the world. It was adjusting to American culture and lifestyle that was a little more difficult. When we first got here, we had to apply for social security numbers, driver's licenses and other documents that established our identity and our residency. It felt like starting from scratch, that we never existed prior to coming here. Coming from a cash-based economy, we had to apply for credit cards and learn how to use them. We had to e...

Bishop Hagiya commissioning new Alaska Clergy in 2013 It takes a special breed of person to live in Alaska and call it home. It also takes a special breed of person to serve as a pastor here. It is a beautiful land with unique ministry settings, each with its own set of joys and challenges. In my role as Superintendent, I have received and continue to receive applications to serve here in Alaska. Some of them are legit and worth considering. But some of them, I feel, are for the wrong reasons. Some say they love to fish & hunt and so Alaska would be a great fit for them. Some say they love the outdoors. Some say they love to hike and ski. Some say they want to be away, to live in extreme, isolated settings. While these are good skills and interests to have for one who is serving in Alaska, these, in my opinion, shouldn't be the primary reasons to come here. One has to feel called to serve in any of our settings . Here are two stories of two such people I am honored to c...

One of my biggest learnings so far in this new role is this: "Anchorage is not Alaska." Its part of it, but its not the whole of it. The more I travel to our different ministry settings around the state, the more my eyes are opened to the reality that there is more to life and ministry in Alaska than my experience of it as pastor of a bedroom community of Anchorage has given me. There are different ministry contexts with unique opportunities and challenges. When I visited Southeast Alaska a couple of months ago, my mind was opened to the realities of air travel in that part of the state. I became acquainted with terms such as "fly over" and "milk run". A "fly over" happens when it is too stormy, or too windy, or too foggy for an airplane to land and so it flies over and goes on to the next destination in the "milk run" which is a chain of airport stops a airline flight needs to make to pick-up and unload passengers and cargo before ...