we finally got the idiotnet working at home!
Land o'Goshen, it's paradise!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
1st Sermon of Internship
Sermon for Sunday, August 17, 2008
Pentecost +14
Text: Matthew 15:10-20, 21-28
"God help me."
How many times have you heard that? Does it even have meaning anymore, or is it a catchphrase – a line quoted by actors who want to emotionally ‘sell’ a moment – or even just an empty expression, like people who will use the name of Christ to convey exasperation or anger?
Even in churches sometimes, it seems like the expression ‘with the help of God’ becomes just another line of the liturgy that we repeat ad infinitum without really paying attention. It’s part of our baptismal liturgy, our wedding liturgy, and even this morning as I was installed as Vicar, my vow was "I will, and I ask God to help me."
God directly intervening in life to help people is an idea that we often brush off onto the more exuberant expressions of the Charismatic churches – mainline churches tend to want to talk more about God helping people through the actions of others, rather than God helping people directly. Sometimes, it seems like it cuts down on the disappointment when our wishes aren’t granted.
Of course, not everything we wish for coincides with the will of God. But how do we reconcile that with the stories in the New Testament, where those who seek out God are healed, cleansed, forgiven, and relieved?
Glossy Christian pop culture often points out that ‘if’ you have faith, then obviously you will receive from God whatever you ask, and if you don’t get what you want you don’t have ‘biblical’ faith – faith that obviously leads you to do whatever Jesus tells you to do, through the Bible.
But is faith as simple as doing what the Bible tells you?
During my undergraduate years, I heard Pastor Wally Gartke tell a story about a man who was a deeply dedicated Evangelical christian. This man lived and breathed the Bible. Ask him a question, and he could quote chapter and verse, an answer to a unbiblical question. In fact, this is largely how he made decisions in his life.
If he had a big decision to make, he would take his Bible, hold it, pray over it, and them open it seemingly at random to a page. The first verse he saw, he would interpret as God’s will in his situation as to how he would act.
For those who are interested, this is called bibliomancy.
So, the story goes that this young man met a young woman, and things progressed as they’re bound to. After a while though, the relationship started to hit a rocky patch, so the man sought solace in Scripture.
So he took his Bible out, raised it above his head, and prayed. Then, placing it on the table before him, he opened it, and read aloud the first passage he saw: "Genesis 9:21," he said, "Noah drank of the wine, and drunk, lay uncovered in his tent."
Perplexed, he tried again.
So again, he took the Book, raised it, prayed over it, and again he set it down and opened it. "Matthew 27:5: Judas took a rope and hanged himself."
By this time he was certain that he wasn’t sincere enough in his searching. So he took more time to prepare himself.
So again, deep breath, prayer, and he set the Book down on the table, and opened it. "Luke 10:37," he read, "Jesus said: go thou and do likewise."
Trying to always be perfect and follow Jesus to the letter isn’t an easy task. To turn the words of the Savior into a religious system is to shoehorn them into a mould for which they were not intended. Living faith isn’t faith in the Bible or in a religious system, it’s a faith in the saving grace of Christ. But even the disciples lose sight of this. As do we.
_________________________________________________________
She’s poor. She’s ragged. She’s disgusting and dirty, and desperate. Her little girl is tormented by a power so evil that none of the gods of her ancestors can’t seem to help her, nor any of their gods. So she turns to the One that she’s heard about, or maybe even heard herself, because her exclamation is not directed to a learned teacher, but to a Savior:
"Have mercy on me Lord, O Son of David!"
And Jesus says not a word. The disciples stop, look at each other. They’re uncomfortable, being seen with the revered teacher while this woman from Canaan caterwauls at their feet. She’s outside of their system, off their radar, and they don’t care.
And what is Jesus doing? He not saying a bloomin’ thing! There are uncomfortable looks between the men. Nudges. Then, finally, one turns to Jesus and, red with embarrassment, says "Jesus! She’s causing a scene! People are looking, man – tell her to go away!"
Naturally, they don’t want anything to do with her. She’s unclean. She’s dirty, filthy, and worse yet, she talked to Jesus like she actually believed in him. She’s not even a proselyte – a converted follower of the Jewish law.
The traditional interpretation of this passage is that Jesus is being rude or dissmissive to the woman. But change the tone of the story at this part, and you have a different exchange. You don’t have a rebuke, or an argument. She sees in Jesus what the disciples only catch little glimpses of – they see a man, she sees a Savior. So in their exchange, the greatest gift of God’s grace is illuminated for all to see.
Her faith is to see that grace through Christ can move and change our own reality. Her reality at home a demon with which she contests every day. As much as her daughter is a prisoner in her own body, her mother is caught in a nightmare. So in her despair she calls to the Savior.
"Lord, help me!"
Jesus stops, looks at each of his disciples. Twelve men, casting glances at each other like schoolboys afraid somebody will see them talking to the girl with braces. Looks at the woman, kneeling on the ground before him, pleading for the soul of her little girl.
"I wasn’t sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." After all, all of his disciples are Jews, aren’t they?
But again that insistence, that certainty: "Lord, help me!"
Looking again at the disicples: "but it’s not good to take the bread I offer and give it to those who are unclean."
And her reply: "but your bread is so good I only ask for a little bit."
She broke the code. In all the lectures, lessons, parables, and preaching that Jesus has done for the disciples, this one desperate woman sees.
"great is your faith! Your daugther is healed!" For grace is for all who see, who believe, and who ask.
"Lord, help me." How many times have you prayed that same prayer? Have you knelt at your bedside, the bedside of your parent, the bedside of your child, and begged God to be with you? When all channels are exhausted, when every prayer written in the worship book has been prayed, and all learned scholars and teachers have gone, when you are alone in your life, how many times have those words escaped your lips? And known that you had nothing left?
"Lord, help me."
And maybe you’ve heard the Savior’s reply: "I am with you".
For Christ is always with us. In our long, dark night of our souls Christ is with us. We are not forsaken, because Christ himself bears our burdens and offers us peace, and rest. This is the faith that the same Christ who suffered and died for us suffers with us now, and even as he rose from the dead so too will our sorrows be ended in newness of abundant life.
When we walk with Christ, he doesn’t lead us to a religion, to a system, to a certain doctrine. Through a a very personal invitation he leads us to the means of his grace, to a cup that overflows, to bread that gives life abundantly, and to a font overflowing with the water of life.
Through that invitation we exchange our own burdens for the freedom of life in Christ, we find our sins are forgiven, we come together as a community to share in that good news, and we are sent forth to proclaim that good news to a world that is desperate to hear it.
As we journey together in these next months, it is my prayer that we may walk beside each other, and help each other learn more about that invitation.
That we may together take up the yoke of the Savior and learn from him, so that we may all find rest for our souls.
May God help us all.
May this be so among us, Amen.
Pentecost +14
Text: Matthew 15:10-20, 21-28
"God help me."
How many times have you heard that? Does it even have meaning anymore, or is it a catchphrase – a line quoted by actors who want to emotionally ‘sell’ a moment – or even just an empty expression, like people who will use the name of Christ to convey exasperation or anger?
Even in churches sometimes, it seems like the expression ‘with the help of God’ becomes just another line of the liturgy that we repeat ad infinitum without really paying attention. It’s part of our baptismal liturgy, our wedding liturgy, and even this morning as I was installed as Vicar, my vow was "I will, and I ask God to help me."
God directly intervening in life to help people is an idea that we often brush off onto the more exuberant expressions of the Charismatic churches – mainline churches tend to want to talk more about God helping people through the actions of others, rather than God helping people directly. Sometimes, it seems like it cuts down on the disappointment when our wishes aren’t granted.
Of course, not everything we wish for coincides with the will of God. But how do we reconcile that with the stories in the New Testament, where those who seek out God are healed, cleansed, forgiven, and relieved?
Glossy Christian pop culture often points out that ‘if’ you have faith, then obviously you will receive from God whatever you ask, and if you don’t get what you want you don’t have ‘biblical’ faith – faith that obviously leads you to do whatever Jesus tells you to do, through the Bible.
But is faith as simple as doing what the Bible tells you?
During my undergraduate years, I heard Pastor Wally Gartke tell a story about a man who was a deeply dedicated Evangelical christian. This man lived and breathed the Bible. Ask him a question, and he could quote chapter and verse, an answer to a unbiblical question. In fact, this is largely how he made decisions in his life.
If he had a big decision to make, he would take his Bible, hold it, pray over it, and them open it seemingly at random to a page. The first verse he saw, he would interpret as God’s will in his situation as to how he would act.
For those who are interested, this is called bibliomancy.
So, the story goes that this young man met a young woman, and things progressed as they’re bound to. After a while though, the relationship started to hit a rocky patch, so the man sought solace in Scripture.
So he took his Bible out, raised it above his head, and prayed. Then, placing it on the table before him, he opened it, and read aloud the first passage he saw: "Genesis 9:21," he said, "Noah drank of the wine, and drunk, lay uncovered in his tent."
Perplexed, he tried again.
So again, he took the Book, raised it, prayed over it, and again he set it down and opened it. "Matthew 27:5: Judas took a rope and hanged himself."
By this time he was certain that he wasn’t sincere enough in his searching. So he took more time to prepare himself.
So again, deep breath, prayer, and he set the Book down on the table, and opened it. "Luke 10:37," he read, "Jesus said: go thou and do likewise."
Trying to always be perfect and follow Jesus to the letter isn’t an easy task. To turn the words of the Savior into a religious system is to shoehorn them into a mould for which they were not intended. Living faith isn’t faith in the Bible or in a religious system, it’s a faith in the saving grace of Christ. But even the disciples lose sight of this. As do we.
_________________________________________________________
She’s poor. She’s ragged. She’s disgusting and dirty, and desperate. Her little girl is tormented by a power so evil that none of the gods of her ancestors can’t seem to help her, nor any of their gods. So she turns to the One that she’s heard about, or maybe even heard herself, because her exclamation is not directed to a learned teacher, but to a Savior:
"Have mercy on me Lord, O Son of David!"
And Jesus says not a word. The disciples stop, look at each other. They’re uncomfortable, being seen with the revered teacher while this woman from Canaan caterwauls at their feet. She’s outside of their system, off their radar, and they don’t care.
And what is Jesus doing? He not saying a bloomin’ thing! There are uncomfortable looks between the men. Nudges. Then, finally, one turns to Jesus and, red with embarrassment, says "Jesus! She’s causing a scene! People are looking, man – tell her to go away!"
Naturally, they don’t want anything to do with her. She’s unclean. She’s dirty, filthy, and worse yet, she talked to Jesus like she actually believed in him. She’s not even a proselyte – a converted follower of the Jewish law.
The traditional interpretation of this passage is that Jesus is being rude or dissmissive to the woman. But change the tone of the story at this part, and you have a different exchange. You don’t have a rebuke, or an argument. She sees in Jesus what the disciples only catch little glimpses of – they see a man, she sees a Savior. So in their exchange, the greatest gift of God’s grace is illuminated for all to see.
Her faith is to see that grace through Christ can move and change our own reality. Her reality at home a demon with which she contests every day. As much as her daughter is a prisoner in her own body, her mother is caught in a nightmare. So in her despair she calls to the Savior.
"Lord, help me!"
Jesus stops, looks at each of his disciples. Twelve men, casting glances at each other like schoolboys afraid somebody will see them talking to the girl with braces. Looks at the woman, kneeling on the ground before him, pleading for the soul of her little girl.
"I wasn’t sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." After all, all of his disciples are Jews, aren’t they?
But again that insistence, that certainty: "Lord, help me!"
Looking again at the disicples: "but it’s not good to take the bread I offer and give it to those who are unclean."
And her reply: "but your bread is so good I only ask for a little bit."
She broke the code. In all the lectures, lessons, parables, and preaching that Jesus has done for the disciples, this one desperate woman sees.
"great is your faith! Your daugther is healed!" For grace is for all who see, who believe, and who ask.
"Lord, help me." How many times have you prayed that same prayer? Have you knelt at your bedside, the bedside of your parent, the bedside of your child, and begged God to be with you? When all channels are exhausted, when every prayer written in the worship book has been prayed, and all learned scholars and teachers have gone, when you are alone in your life, how many times have those words escaped your lips? And known that you had nothing left?
"Lord, help me."
And maybe you’ve heard the Savior’s reply: "I am with you".
For Christ is always with us. In our long, dark night of our souls Christ is with us. We are not forsaken, because Christ himself bears our burdens and offers us peace, and rest. This is the faith that the same Christ who suffered and died for us suffers with us now, and even as he rose from the dead so too will our sorrows be ended in newness of abundant life.
When we walk with Christ, he doesn’t lead us to a religion, to a system, to a certain doctrine. Through a a very personal invitation he leads us to the means of his grace, to a cup that overflows, to bread that gives life abundantly, and to a font overflowing with the water of life.
Through that invitation we exchange our own burdens for the freedom of life in Christ, we find our sins are forgiven, we come together as a community to share in that good news, and we are sent forth to proclaim that good news to a world that is desperate to hear it.
As we journey together in these next months, it is my prayer that we may walk beside each other, and help each other learn more about that invitation.
That we may together take up the yoke of the Savior and learn from him, so that we may all find rest for our souls.
May God help us all.
May this be so among us, Amen.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
here!
We arrived safely (but quietly) in Calgary, and I started at Hope on Friday the 15th.
The problem being, of course, that neither our telephone nor internet service began then. They should have, but the phone company was too busy searching for it's head, which was lodged firmly up its bottom.
We may have phone and internet by the weekend. Updates will then follow, when I'm not sneaking on the computer at the office.
Actually, it's not that hard. I try to look pious, devotional, and dedicated to my official vicarship whilst blogging away.
The problem being, of course, that neither our telephone nor internet service began then. They should have, but the phone company was too busy searching for it's head, which was lodged firmly up its bottom.
We may have phone and internet by the weekend. Updates will then follow, when I'm not sneaking on the computer at the office.
Actually, it's not that hard. I try to look pious, devotional, and dedicated to my official vicarship whilst blogging away.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
on the road again
This evening the we're on the road again -- starting the first step in our trip back to Alberta. I have never moved with two children before; and I had NO idea that we had accumulated that much stuff!
So, after work today I'll pick up the Uhaul, then we'll load everything and bid goodbye to the apartment that's been our home for the past two years. Then, off to Rosetown for a night on the road before pressing on to Calgary in the morning.
Whither thou goest....
Wish us luck, and that the drive may be boring, as all good long drives are.
So, after work today I'll pick up the Uhaul, then we'll load everything and bid goodbye to the apartment that's been our home for the past two years. Then, off to Rosetown for a night on the road before pressing on to Calgary in the morning.
Whither thou goest....
Wish us luck, and that the drive may be boring, as all good long drives are.
Friday, August 8, 2008
goin' home
In four -- count 'em, four -- days I will be back home.
Home, to me, is southwestern Alberta, where to the west the blue mountains form a wall that seem sometimes to mark the very edge of the world, but when to the east the prairies go on forever.
When the wind comes off the mountains, it makes the grass and crops in the fields ebb and flow like waves on the ocean. I don't much care for the ocean, but I love the prairies -- it's like living in a sea of wind.
When I'm stressed or sick, I dream of being back home with my friends and family. The biggest thing I miss is sitting in a pew at worship with Diana, then talking with friends and a big Sunday dinner.
Calgary may not be heaven. But it's in Alberta, and that's close enough for me!
Home, to me, is southwestern Alberta, where to the west the blue mountains form a wall that seem sometimes to mark the very edge of the world, but when to the east the prairies go on forever.
When the wind comes off the mountains, it makes the grass and crops in the fields ebb and flow like waves on the ocean. I don't much care for the ocean, but I love the prairies -- it's like living in a sea of wind.
When I'm stressed or sick, I dream of being back home with my friends and family. The biggest thing I miss is sitting in a pew at worship with Diana, then talking with friends and a big Sunday dinner.
Calgary may not be heaven. But it's in Alberta, and that's close enough for me!
thanks
As a friend recently blogged that her internship began this past Wednesday, and it got me thinking. My own starts next Saturday.
It's not secret that I've become a lot more cynical since I've begun the Seminary journey, and although my opinion of the process of this education has declined, my faith and admiration in those who teach and guide me on this path remain quite, well, devout.
So I'm beginning to think that at the end of the whole Seminary experience I'll not be a good pastor because I filled my head with all the right dreck in the concrete mausoleum of LTS, but because that building is filled with some of the best pastors I've ever had the privilege to study with.
For that matter, I think that all people at the Seminary can point to at least one pastor in particular who, to them, modeled his or her ordination vows in an inspiring way.
I don't think it's the stuff that I stuff my head with that will help me be a good pastor. Possibly in spite of all that book learning I'll be a good pastor -- because of the people who take the time along the journey to teach -- colleagues, classmates, professors, and pastors. And because I get to serve the greatest people in creation.
thanks.
It's not secret that I've become a lot more cynical since I've begun the Seminary journey, and although my opinion of the process of this education has declined, my faith and admiration in those who teach and guide me on this path remain quite, well, devout.
So I'm beginning to think that at the end of the whole Seminary experience I'll not be a good pastor because I filled my head with all the right dreck in the concrete mausoleum of LTS, but because that building is filled with some of the best pastors I've ever had the privilege to study with.
For that matter, I think that all people at the Seminary can point to at least one pastor in particular who, to them, modeled his or her ordination vows in an inspiring way.
I don't think it's the stuff that I stuff my head with that will help me be a good pastor. Possibly in spite of all that book learning I'll be a good pastor -- because of the people who take the time along the journey to teach -- colleagues, classmates, professors, and pastors. And because I get to serve the greatest people in creation.
thanks.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday to me!
I turned 27 today. I am married to THE most wonderful woman on the planet, and have the two most adorable boys, ever. Connect the first statement to the second, and you will likely, and correctly, surmise that said boys will keep being produced at regular intervals.
Hell, somebody has to build the church. And a man should have a hobby.
But seriously, I never would have thought, when I started my undergrad degree at the tender age of 20, that I would have a family of my own while I was still south of 30. Let alone a family old enough that my eldest will turn 5 shortly after I turn 30.
I married the only woman I've ever fallen in love with (or for that matter, ever will!). I have had the opportunity to dedicate my life to the service of Church which I love for the God to whom I owe my very being. I strive to be the absolute best father in the world, because my children damn well deserve it.
I could bring in more money doing other things but I just don't care to. I think it's more important to do what I love, love what I do, and let my family share in the love of vocation and place.
I live an incredibly blessed life; and the biggest blessing of all is being able to share that life with people all over the country.
So to all of you, from all of us -- may God's deepest, richest, kindest blessings and peace be upon your souls.
Verbum dominum manet in aeternum.
I turned 27 today. I am married to THE most wonderful woman on the planet, and have the two most adorable boys, ever. Connect the first statement to the second, and you will likely, and correctly, surmise that said boys will keep being produced at regular intervals.
Hell, somebody has to build the church. And a man should have a hobby.
But seriously, I never would have thought, when I started my undergrad degree at the tender age of 20, that I would have a family of my own while I was still south of 30. Let alone a family old enough that my eldest will turn 5 shortly after I turn 30.
I married the only woman I've ever fallen in love with (or for that matter, ever will!). I have had the opportunity to dedicate my life to the service of Church which I love for the God to whom I owe my very being. I strive to be the absolute best father in the world, because my children damn well deserve it.
I could bring in more money doing other things but I just don't care to. I think it's more important to do what I love, love what I do, and let my family share in the love of vocation and place.
I live an incredibly blessed life; and the biggest blessing of all is being able to share that life with people all over the country.
So to all of you, from all of us -- may God's deepest, richest, kindest blessings and peace be upon your souls.
Verbum dominum manet in aeternum.
on the blog front
Through a series of bizzare coincidences yesterday, I stumbled upon a new blog.
Gunfighter: A Modern Warrior's Life is the blog of a fellow Lutheran (ELCA) from the Virginia area. He's a devout Christian, a Democrat (go Obama!) and gets to use guns frequently and blow shit up.
He also runs Real Dads, a place for dads to celebrate Fatherhood.
Boy, I'm movin' south of the border. A few people have told me that working my way through my undergrad as a nightclub bouncer gave me some solid skills for church committee meetings. Think of how much better prepared if (like Gunfighter) I'd joined the Marines first....
Check him out -- well worth the trip. Leave a comment, and let him know where you're from and how you found his site.
Keep the faith.
Oh yeah, and as long as it seems like everyone else has a cool blog name, I'm thinking of renaming mine "The Zen of Kicking Ass: From Bouncer to Pastor in Nine Easy Years".
or: "The Alien Word: How to Kick Ass and Save Souls at the Same Time." (little Lutheran joke there.)
or even something edgier: "Mastication and Regurgitation: Life in the Family Trenches"
Thoughts?
Gunfighter: A Modern Warrior's Life is the blog of a fellow Lutheran (ELCA) from the Virginia area. He's a devout Christian, a Democrat (go Obama!) and gets to use guns frequently and blow shit up.
He also runs Real Dads, a place for dads to celebrate Fatherhood.
Boy, I'm movin' south of the border. A few people have told me that working my way through my undergrad as a nightclub bouncer gave me some solid skills for church committee meetings. Think of how much better prepared if (like Gunfighter) I'd joined the Marines first....
Check him out -- well worth the trip. Leave a comment, and let him know where you're from and how you found his site.
Keep the faith.
Oh yeah, and as long as it seems like everyone else has a cool blog name, I'm thinking of renaming mine "The Zen of Kicking Ass: From Bouncer to Pastor in Nine Easy Years".
or: "The Alien Word: How to Kick Ass and Save Souls at the Same Time." (little Lutheran joke there.)
or even something edgier: "Mastication and Regurgitation: Life in the Family Trenches"
Thoughts?
Friday, August 1, 2008
kids
For those of you who want kids but don't, as of yet, have them, be aware.
They are an incredible blessing. They are wonderful, incredible little human beings.
They also wake you up at 4:48 in the morning to get them a cup of juice.
It starts when your Boy gently pokes your eyeball, to see if it's open. Then, because he's unfortunately smart, he realizes that daddy can't actually see anything unless daddy's wearing his glasses.
So you get those, and then poke daddy in the eye with them. Satisfaction! Daddy groans, and rolls over.
But then goes back to sleep. So you sit on the edge of the bed and snuggle daddy for a little bit. Just in case there's hard feelings from the night before last. When you came unexpectedly into the bedroom.
And found him and mommy in the midst of a vicious wrestling match.
without (ahem!) pants.
and you grabbed daddy's big toe to save mommy, and screamed, and cried, and were generally inconsolable that your daddy would be so heinous as to attack mommy! So you've slept in their bedroom the last couple of nights, just to prevent further violence and out of concern for mommy's welfare.
But after a few snuggles you realize that daddy may just need pants. So you grab the first pair you find. and give them to daddy, but because you know that daddy's not wearing his glasses, you need to put them close to daddy's face.
So you throw daddy's ugly, stinking work pants (that daddy, because he is a dumbass, did not put in the hamper upon changing) on his head.
That achieves your preferred goal. You get your juice.
And then climb back onto the bed beside mommy, being careful to take up all the room, because you just can't really trust daddy around mommy. Then you fall back asleep.
And daddy mutters something about taking 'holy orders' and goes out to the couch for a few extra minutes sleep.
They are an incredible blessing. They are wonderful, incredible little human beings.
They also wake you up at 4:48 in the morning to get them a cup of juice.
It starts when your Boy gently pokes your eyeball, to see if it's open. Then, because he's unfortunately smart, he realizes that daddy can't actually see anything unless daddy's wearing his glasses.
So you get those, and then poke daddy in the eye with them. Satisfaction! Daddy groans, and rolls over.
But then goes back to sleep. So you sit on the edge of the bed and snuggle daddy for a little bit. Just in case there's hard feelings from the night before last. When you came unexpectedly into the bedroom.
And found him and mommy in the midst of a vicious wrestling match.
without (ahem!) pants.
and you grabbed daddy's big toe to save mommy, and screamed, and cried, and were generally inconsolable that your daddy would be so heinous as to attack mommy! So you've slept in their bedroom the last couple of nights, just to prevent further violence and out of concern for mommy's welfare.
But after a few snuggles you realize that daddy may just need pants. So you grab the first pair you find. and give them to daddy, but because you know that daddy's not wearing his glasses, you need to put them close to daddy's face.
So you throw daddy's ugly, stinking work pants (that daddy, because he is a dumbass, did not put in the hamper upon changing) on his head.
That achieves your preferred goal. You get your juice.
And then climb back onto the bed beside mommy, being careful to take up all the room, because you just can't really trust daddy around mommy. Then you fall back asleep.
And daddy mutters something about taking 'holy orders' and goes out to the couch for a few extra minutes sleep.
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