Driving toward Rainbow Bridge on a wind-swept evening in late June, as the sun yawned and was nearly hung for bed, three of us, amongst the other residents in the car, remarked on the steady imprint the Tahoe Resident Leadership Program had already impressed upon us merely one month in. The genuinity in our remarks spilled into one another ‘s hearts, threading us more tightly together in Christian bonds and pride-bending vulnerability. We call this friendship, that forgotten doctrine of love. I recall saying that living amongst this most charitable community of God-fearers that usher us into labors for the gospel, a grasping for the heart of sinners, inquiring what has grasped ours, and how we could be ever-more offered unto God is like “dreaming with your eyes open.” Some wit may accuse me of an overly-romanticized heart for this place. My own wit does. Yet, may we never call “overly-romanticized” that which abides in authentic, God-glorifying affection within us. Indeed, our salvation is the daughter of a radical romance, that of Christ and His beloved spouse, the Church. This church, Tahoe Forest Church, has taken her love for Christ and distributed its sweetness to each and every one of us. As for me, I entered into the program with a healthy optimism. It was then greeted with the cheerfulness of Ryan Aldrich, Director of Operations & TRLP. Ryan, that man of heart, throughout this program has influenced me on how to lead by serving others with unprecedented grace. So much so that I once spilled frozen yogurt in his car and can report I was still able to remain in the program (and finish my frozen yogurt). He coordinates this program with a contagious smile that has truly reformed my understanding of a leader, that he is not always standing on the shoulders of others but lets others stand on his. The lead pastor, Terrence Sutton, that man of iron, has biblically guided me every Sunday with sermons of relentless vigor that has caused my love for scripture to flower even more. Spiritually, he has been an image of perpetual surrenderance to Christ, seemingly always binding his Isaac. In ministry, he has done what no one else has done before: cause me to be secretly enamored to the pastoral office (not so secretly anymore). I first saw him preach at my university. Once I saw him walk up there with all mountain-glory, I thought, “That is the mustache of mustaches.” He said things in that sermon I still take with me today. He had also opened up his home to the residents for a topical series every Wednesday. I once asked him where all his books were so I could quickly covet them. He told me a story of years ago how his U-Haul was stolen and everything garnished, including his books. A theologian losing his books? Job had elementary afflictions. Though he chews rocks in various challenges, he has an inflexible fixation on the furtherance of the gospel. The executive pastor, Jordan Marsland, that man of thought, has caused a very–unique sway in my spirit. He possesses a captivating and vaguely frustrating ability to say more by saying less. A calm theologian, he cares in a thinking posture, cracks steel with sincerity, and crushes dreams with Jefe De Jefes (let the reader understand). Jordan, in relation to others, has paradoxically tutored me to have a louder alliance to silence, and that silence does not necessarily mean less words, but less of you in them. Did that make sense? I don’t know. But this he is also currently teaching me: At times, you may live not knowing, and that’s okay. Know that. As you can likely tell, he is a compelling man to look up to. I certainly do. All in all, it would be much too long if I were to present each way it has all influenced me here. There are numerous things I could have discussed, such as the City Impact trip, the Awaken trip, Kate Sutton, Juliana Elia, Lulana Heron etc. My own mentor, Seth Warren, is another man of integrity I have the most warm admiration of. We exchange our hearts over a Truckee-priced cup of coffee, with items of conversation unsuited for public glare but ever-sweet in brotherly companionship. Likewise for the other residents here with me. Our accidental closeness is a bizarre splendor, the kind that remains. Thus, here I am mid-way through the Tahoe Resident Leadership Program. It has not ended yet. I don’t think it ever does.
TRLP Mid-Program Reflections; Maximus Lucero
