Peace to Your House!

“Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide…. Do not move about from house to house.” –Luke 10:5-7

This week I’ve been wrestling with this verse. Better yet, through this verse God has been wrestling with me. It’s been doing some work on me, as I’ve been forced to think about what it means to be a person of peace. (That’s the holy danger of living with a text for a while. It’s sort of like Jacob wrestling with God all through the night by the river Jabbok. You’ll probably get a blessing, but it could come with a limp!)

What has really captured me this week, or, better, what has convicted me this week is the instruction to “remain in the same house.” I think that it is easy for most of us to come and proclaim peace, but it’s another thing altogether when we are called to remain somewhere for a while.

What Jesus envisions here is not a flash-mob approach to peace, where we invite someone to give peace a chance and then are on our way. This is about abiding, about remaining, about dwelling. Others will learn what peace looks like as we remain with them over a prolonged period of time. God’s peace is revealed through the habits and patterns of life as we live together.

And not only that, the way we interact with one another and with others reveals something about the ways in which we connect with God. In her book Sacred Rhythms, Ruth Hallie Barton puts it this way:

“Our patterns of intimacy or nonintimacy with other human beings are the very same patterns we bring to our relationship with God, whether we are conscious of it or not.”

That idea is doing some serious work on me this week. I want to be a person of peace. I want to connect deeply with God. I want to be in life-giving, intimate relationships with other people. I am sure that you do too. What I am coming to realize is that these things are all deeply connected.

My prayer today, flowing from dwelling in this Word, is that God will transform this community of believers into people of peace, as you remain together in this church house, eating together, drinking together, and creating a rich life together in the Spirit of the One who has called you and sent you ahead of him into the world!

Peace to this house! -ERM

The Guest

Today I read this wrenching and probing poem by Wendell Berry. Like all of Berry's work, it hits too close to home and challenges my feeble attempts to follow the way of Jesus daily. This is especially challenging as we move into the season of Advent and remember that our God is always coming, sometimes as a pregnant young girl looking for a room, sometimes as a "guest" encountered on the street, sometimes in our neighbor, and sometimes in the form of family, who no matter how close always remain strangers and guests to us....

God, as you continue to come into your world and walk into our lives, give us the grace to see you and the strength to refuse "to remain strange" to the threshold of our heart and a seat at our table.

The Guest

Washed into the doorway
by the wake of the traffic
he wears humanity
like a third-hand shirt
—blackened with enough
of Manhattan’s dirt to sprout
a tree, or poison one.
His empty hand has led him
where he has come to.
our differences claim us.
He holds out his hand,
in need of all that’s mine.

And so we’re joined, as deep
as son and father. His life
is offered me to choose.

Shall I begin servitude
to him? Let this cup pass.
Who am I? But charity must
suppose knowing no better,
that this is a man fallen
among thieves, or come
to this strait by no fault
—that our differences
is not a judgment,
though I can afford to eat
and am made his judge.

I am, I nearly believe,
the Samaritan who fell
into the ambush of his heart
on the way to another place.
My stranger waits, his hand
held out like something to read,
as though its emptiness
is an accomplishment.
I give him a smoke and the price
of a meal, no more

—not sufficient kindness
or believable sham.
I paid him to remain strange
to my threshold and table,
to permit me to forget him—
knowing I won’t. He’s the guest
of my knowing, though not asked.

- Wendell Berry

Unity in Diversity

“Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me…. The Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (John 14:11, 26).

God has called us to unity, to share a deep, sacrificial love with all who “abide” in God (John 17: 21-23; 13:34-35). This unity in love is a high calling, a true witness to the world of the creative power and love of God. In my lifetime, though, I have noticed, as you likely have, that we seem to struggle to understand the difference between unity and uniformity. Christians are especially prone to separate ourselves from others based on our differences and preferences, rather than be drawn together with one another. Yet, the church is designed to be the reflection and image of God on earth. And what is God? As we see in the passages from John above, God is inherently three-in-one, a unified diversity. The church must find a way to reflect the God it worships, to live together as a 'mosaic' of humanity that is unified in the midst of its diversity (racially, ethnically, politically, theologically, etc.).

One of the most challenging books I’ve read on this subject is Mark Cunningham’s These Three Are One: The Practice of Trinitarian Theology. In it he suggests that the church must reflect the unity we see in the Trinity. He uses three wonderful terms to describe this little dance between Father, Son, and Spirit that help us reflect on unity in the Body of Christ: participation, particularity, and polyphony. Participation refers to the mutual, intimate interaction between people that allows us both to know and to be known by those in the church. That kind of knowing brings us together as one body, united in our differences. Particularity highlights the fact that we are all different, but we only really know and appreciate our own identity, as well as that of others, when we stand next to and with other people. True unity highlights our differences, our particularity, just as the characteristics and beauty of an individual piece of colored glass is made clearer when it is placed next to other pieces of varying colors in a mosaic. Finally, polyphonic is a musical term that refers to the bringing together of diverse sounds into one symphonic piece. (Some of you may know the term from the indie musical troop The Polyphonic Spree, which brings together a wide range of unique vocal and instrumental sounds to create some amazing music.) The church unites in our uniqueness and differences so that God, the Master Conductor, can weave us into a beautiful symphony of his love in the world.

My mind was captured by this beautiful picture of our unity in diversity this morning as I was shifting the chairs slightly, so that we can see one another a little more clearly as we worship and break bread together. Today, as we are called together by the Father, as we gather around Table to receive the hospitality of Christ, as we center ourselves in the Word, and as we are drawn together by the power of the Spirit who abides with us, may we strive for true unity in the midst of diversity. And may that unity in love be a living witness of God to the world (John 17:21).

Seeking Wholeness in Life

We live in a society that makes it far too easy to buy into the temptation of living a divided life. The internet welcomes an encourages us to become different people online, creating a "second life," a disembodied existence that may bear little, if any, resemblance to the embodied life we live each day, filled with incongruous posts, photos, comments, and snarky remarks that belie the story we claim to live in our "real" lives. Our churches too often encourage us to leave the realities of life kindly at the door, tucking our pains, frustrations, and despair, not to mention our distressing doubts about God, into our coats with our winter hats and gloves. "Hang them in the coat closet before entering the sanctuary, please. You won't really need those in here. Those are private things, not public."

Today, I was encouraged and challenged by this little quote from Henri Nouwen on the ways in which the most personal things are actually the most universal. Like most of Nouwen's material, the beauty of a short simple phrase is only reinforced when you stop and spent time reflecting on the deep and rich implications of what he's suggesting. There are a lot of posibilities here for growth, for healing, and for transformation of individuals, communities, and the world.

We like to make a distinction between our private and public lives and say, "Whatever I do in my private life is nobody else's business." But anyone trying to live a spiritual life will soon discover that the most personal is the most universal, the most hidden is the most public, and the most solitary is the most communal. What we live in the most intimate places of our beings is not just for us but for all people. That is why our inner lives are lives for others. That is why our solitude is a gift to our community, and that is why our most secret thoughts affect our common life.

Jesus says, "No one lights a lamp to put it under a tub; they put it on the lamp-stand where it shines for everyone in the house" (Matthew 5:14-15). The most inner light is a light for the world. Let's not have "double lives"; let us allow what we live in private to be known in public.

Life Together: A Community “in Christ”

“Entering into friendships in Christ… is not simply an added benefit of the Christian life; it is constitutive of the Christian life.” – Stephen Fowl

Throughout this week I’ve continued to reflect on the nature of Christian community and friendship. Community is at the heart of Christian life. In fact, Fowl is right when he suggests that “entering into friendships in Christ… is constitutive of Christian life.” There is no such thing as private, individual faith, for we are all bound together in Christ Jesus by connections and bonds that are forged in our baptism. And these are not voluntary bonds; we do not get to choose our brothers and sisters in Christ. Through our baptism we are drawn by God into a deep communion with God and with all of those who are in Christ. As Rowan Williams puts it, “the event of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection… has created a different sort of human community; professing commitment to Jesus as Lord connects us not only to Jesus but to one another in a new way.” We don’t choose one another; Christ chooses us!

The Christian life cannot be lived alone. We have all been caught up together into the larger drama of God’s ongoing work and dealings in the world. We can see this in Paul’s letter to the Philippian Christians, where Paul’s encouragement assumes and presupposes a community of people (Phil 2:1-5). The question, then, is “What does it mean to live together as an authentically Christian community?”

Paul’s answer begins with having “the same mind” (2:2, 5). This does not mean that we must think the same things or have identical doctrine before we can live together in community. This idea actually flies in the face of what Paul is trying to say. We have already been brought together in Christ, so by suggesting that we have the “same mind,” the “mind of Christ,” Paul is saying that we must share in Christ’s approach to life, his way of thinking about living. The power of what Paul is suggesting is precisely a function of its daring improbability. As Richard Hays would say, Paul is “inviting the readers to see their own lives as corresponding to the gracious action of the Lord whom they acclaim in their worship.”

At the root of our unity and common life, then, is God’s story, which takes its most concrete shape in the story of Jesus’ self-emptying, self-giving, status-renouncing love (Phil 2:6-11). This is the “mind of Christ.” These are the dispositions that must form and direct our friendships with each other. Paul exhorts the Christian community in Philippi to have this mind, to live cruciform lives, shaped by the story of Christ who chose the way of the cross. Paul encourages them to think, feel, and act according to the cross-shaped way of Jesus.

Over the next two weeks, I want to look at a two of the many facets of Paul’s understanding of Christian community as a life together in Christ from Philippians: accountability and story-telling.

Commun(ion/al) Experience

At the end of a brief reflection on a conversation he led at the state gathering of Disciples of Christ in Tulsa, OK recently, Alan Roxburgh made this observation about his communion experience:

One final observation of a personal nature - it’s a bit of a strange one. For the past several years I’ve been part of an Anglican church. We go forward together at communion to receive the bread and wine (a real chunk of bread and real wine). I sometimes find my self standing in this little line as we move toward the altar with my little grandchildren beside me - it’s one of those moments when you are rooted in the ordinary and everyday in the midst of the mystery of God. Today, as we had communion I was aware of sitting in a pew as the plastic cups of grape juice were passed along followed by little pellets of hard bread. I suddenly felt quite alone and isolated in this moment of the body of Christ.

Roxburgh's important observation should cause those of us in the Churches of Christ, as those who share Stone-Campbell DNA with our brothers and sisters in the Disciples, about our own practice of the Lord's Supper.

How does our practice of the Supper impact our theology of the Lord's Supper?

Which comes first, the chicken or the egg? In other words, how do our exegesis/theology of the Eucharist and our experience dialogue with, interact with, and transform one another?

Does our practice of the supper actually reinforce the idea that faith is a private experience and interaction between and individual and God or does it connect us to the greater Body of those "in Christ"? Are we "alone and isolated" or "together and unified" when receiving and experiencing the Supper?

How does our LS practice shape us to be the people of God in the world?

Do we receive the hospitality of God in our experience? Do we truly receive the O/other?

Alright, just a few questions that popped into my mind while reading Roxburgh when taking a break from reading student exams this morning.

Affirming in the Present What We Hope to Be Tomorrow

For nearly a year, N and I have been serving on a Vision Committee at LOCC. We've spent a lot of time thinking, praying, processing, assessing, evaluating, synthesizing, and dreaming. Instead of quickly popping out a list of "brick and mortar"-ish items to be checked off over the next several years, we wanted to create a spiritual vision of who we long to be, bringing together the best of who we are as a congregation with God's intentions for the church and the world in Scripture. To help achieve that goal, we used a process called appreciative inquiry. (Branson's book Memories, Hopes, and Conversations: Appreciative Inquiry and Congregational Change was an invaluable resource to us on our journey.)

Yesterday, the VT presented our vision to the congregation. We have yet to discover the congregational response, what steps our various ministry leaders will take to help us become the kind of church we envision, or how our members will covenant will God and one another to embody this vision in our life together before the world. But, we hope and pray that it will be an exciting journey of discernment and taking Spirit-guided, faithful risks for the sake of the kingdom of God.

Here are the "embodied callings" and "dreams" that we presented yesterday. (As with all statements like this, it was not created in a vacuum. We have dipped deeply into the vernacular of our own congregation, as well as the language of Scripture and missional church theology, and some helpful ideas from insights from other churches and thinkers.):

Embodied Calling Statements:

Affirming Today What We Hope to Be Tomorrow

As the body of Christ in north Oakland County we willingly submit to living under the reign of God for the sake of the world. We choose to live intentionally, committing to work with God in and through the church, to open our lives to the transforming work of God through the Spirit, and to walk the way of Jesus in our community.

Missional Outreach:

We believe that God’s kingdom is a present reality that continues to break into the world. As a people who have submitted to the lordship of Christ through baptism, we proclaim the gospel, the good news of the reign of God, through missional outreach. Through our participation in the mission of God we both strengthen the unity of the body and individually grow in discipleship by imitating Christ’s life of compassionate and sacrificial service to our local community. We serve expecting nothing in return, willingly taking risks for the sake of the kingdom of God.

Biblical Formation & Education:

We believe that the Bible is the narrative of the God who creates and interacts with humanity. The biblical story is our story. In order to better understand our place in God’s continuing action in the world and to grow as disciples, we pursue a greater understanding of faith and discipleship by engaging in the study of Scripture, listening to the proclaimed Word, and participating in classes and discussions with others. As we dwell in the Word of God both individually and communally, the Spirit continually shapes us to embody the mind of Christ in the world.

Loving Family:

We believe that the journey of faith is a shared journey. The church is the family of those who live in relationship with God and one another, a fellowship in and through Jesus Christ. We are a sincere, committed, loving family of Christians who work together to help those who are in need, whether or not they are a part of the Lake Orion Church family. We acknowledge, embrace, and accept diversity as a vital aspect of our life together, and we choose to extend grace in the freedom of Christ instead of judgment, breaking down the dividing walls that separate people, so that we might have a deep and real sense of connection and belonging with one another in the fellowship of the Spirit.

Worship:

We believe that worship is vital to the life of faith and the future of God’s people and all of creation. When we gather in worship, we commune with God and with each other and we re-enthrone God over our own lives and over the church. In worship we praise God for the mighty works God has done in our own lives and on behalf of a world that does not yet know how to praise.

· Singing & Praise:

We believe that God is enthroned on the praises of God’s people. The singing at the Lake Orion Church enhances the congregation’s corporate worship and individual spirituality. In our praise, we retrain ourselves for life in the world, recommitting ourselves to the way of Jesus and God’s mission. Song services are intentional, though open to spontaneity, and dip into the deep well of resources in the Christian tradition, including a blend of older and newer songs. The sincerity, energy, and passion of our worship leaders are a source of the vibrancy of the worship in song.

· Communal Prayer:

We believe that God hears and responds to our prayer. Communal prayer is a vital part of our corporate worship at Lake Orion. We regularly surround individuals and families to hold them up in prayer and bring their physical, spiritual, emotional, and relational needs to God. We also join together in times of celebration, giving thanks for God’s faithfulness. As we come together through prayer, we are strengthened and knit together as a church; we lay aside our differences and unite as one people in the presence of God.

· Preaching:

We believe that God continues to speak to the church through the proclaimed Word. The preaching at the Lake Orion Church of Christ anchors both the worship service and the overall health of the congregation in the Word of God. By intention, the sermon is united with the other elements of worship. In his sermons, the preacher connects with the members as individuals and as a body. His sermons are clear, practical, thoughtful, and edifying. His humility and genuineness are revealed through his openness to share both the strengths and weaknesses of his spiritual journey with the congregation.

Small Groups:

We believe that small groups are vital to the formation of people on the journey of faith. Small groups provide a unique avenue to experiencing a deeper connection with other individuals and with the greater church family. By consistently gathering together with a small group of other disciples, we create and cultivate an intimate, non-judgmental atmosphere that fosters growth in the Spirit through relationships of trust and accountability. Together we share our dreams and our fears, we celebrate our successes and strengths, we confess our failures and weaknesses, and we learn to address and resolve conflict, while seeking the counsel and support of others through conversation, prayer, and the exploration of the Scriptures.

Youth Faith Formation:

We believe that children are an integral part of the life and future of the church. As a congregation we recognize the importance of maintaining an active and welcoming youth program to nurture the growing faith of our children and teens and to empower them to follow Jesus. Through Bible study and discussion groups, we foster an environment that encourages enduring friendships and develops leadership within the group. We invite our youth to join us on the transformative journey of discipleship through shared experiences in missional outreach, fellowship, and worship.

As members of the family of God at the Lake Orion Church of Christ, we covenant with one another and with God to embrace and live into this vision in our life together with God for the sake of the world.

“Our Dream”

We dream of a church…

…where the gospel is not just something taught, but is a reality in and through which people live out God’s intentions for the world; where God’s new creation is breaking into the world; where evangelism and mission are the way of life for all believers.

…where the Spirit of God is present and active in calling us to be the people of God, transforming us and strengthening us as individuals and a community; where people take risks for the sake of the kingdom of God; where people are empowered to live through the Spirit.

…where God’s word becomes a source of hope and life; where Scripture is studied with expectation, taught with relevance, heard with anticipation, and obeyed with passion; where the gospel story lives in us and we live out the story of Jesus in the world.

…where biblical hospitality is a way of life; where God’s beauty is made real in the lives of broken people; where humanity is restored to those who have been dehumanized; where the oppressed and disenfranchised are welcomed and embraced as Christ; where salvation comes and changes us all; where all people and all of God’s creation are blessed through us.

…where people find real help, experience real change, and encounter real answers; where people discover healing, wholeness, and hope; where people find liberation from sin and its enslaving power of destructive choices, habits, and addictions; where grace is both accepted and extended; where forgiveness is offered, divisions are repaired, and reconciliation is experienced in every aspect of our common life.

…where both unity and diversity are expected, received, and honored as gifts of God; where our love for one another springs from our love for God; where diversity empowers deeper discipleship; where comfort, complacency, and seclusion give way to inclusion, welcome, and embrace.

…where God is vibrantly and joyfully worshiped; where worship transforms individuals and the church community to be the people of God in the world; where individuals discover freedom to express their love for and commitment to God, while also honoring and respecting others in the family of faith; where the rich resources of our tradition are celebrated and embraced and form the foundation for the future.

…where prayer forms the rich soil that nourishes everything we do; where prayer leads us both to the heart of God and to the heart of human struggle; where individuals come together to form a visionary community of discernment.

…where growth in radical discipleship is anticipated and expected; where people are free to stretch their wings in faith; where men, women, and children work together to become imitators of God; where transformation into the image of Christ is empowered and the Fruit of the Spirit is cultivated in all people.

…where families are strengthened and marriages flourish; where husbands and wives learn to love one another as Christ loves the church; where children discover the creative and life-giving presence of God; where all people, young and old, are invited to explore life in Christian community.

…where every member is trained, empowered, and entrusted to be a minister; where people embrace their baptismal calling and live the baptized life, life in the self-emptying, self-denying pattern of Jesus.

…where people come together regularly to fellowship in the Spirit and the Word; where small groups and prayer groups form a vital part of our growth in discipleship.

…where people continue to search for God and re-imagine how the gospel speaks into our time and culture; where we serve our neighbors, expecting nothing in return; where we are a necessary resource for our community, both physically and spiritually; where those who are not-yet-Christian find a safe place to ask difficult questions and to explore God, faith, and spirituality; where new church-communities are being planted as people come to embrace the way of Jesus and the life of discipleship.

23 February 2007

“Silence has become God’s final defense against our idolatry. By limiting our speech, God gets some relief from our descriptive assaults. By hiding inside a veil of glory, God eludes our projections. God deflects our attempts at control by withdrawing into silence, knowing that nothing gets to us like the failure of our speech. When we run out of words, then and perhaps only then can God be God. When we have eaten our own words until we are sick of them, when nothing we can tell ourselves makes a dent in our hunger, when we are prepared to surrender the very Word that brought us into being in hopes of hearing it spoken again—then, at last, we are ready to worship God.

“Only an idol always answers. The God who keeps silence, even when God’s own flesh and blood is begging for a word, is the God beyond anyone’s control. An answer will come, but not until the silence is complete. And even then, the answer will be given in silence. With the cross and the empty tomb, God has provided us with two events that defy all our efforts to domesticate them. Before them, and before the God who is present in them, our most eloquent words turn to dust.”

- Barbara Brown Taylor, When God Is Silent, 38-39, 80.

It was ten years ago today: February 23, 1997. I was sitting in a computer lab at the Pryor Science Building at Harding University, feverishly fighting with a C++ program that refused to do what I was telling it to do. It was the spring semester of my senior year, and I was finally taking an entry level computer programming course that was required on the Biochemistry degree plan. (To this day I am certain that it was the computer's fault. Without a doubt, I had a deft mastery of this computer programming language less than two months into my only semester of studying it. But that is a different story.)

It is funny how consumed and perturbed we can become when things do not seem to go our way. At 10:30 that Sunday night, I was engrossed by the need to make this computer do obeisance at the commands of my finger tips. The computer had another idea. I was Nebuchadnezzar to the PC’s was Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Like the times our black lab decides defiantly to ignore the voice of my command, it would not cooperate. I was frustrated, confused, and angry....

How quickly things change. How quickly a single moment trivializes what once seemed so important. It is amazing how clear the events of the evening still are in my mind. Instead of bowing to my commands, the computer finally convinced me that it was king. I left the room of defiant 486s and headed back to what were known as the East Side Apartments. (I think they were torn down recently.) You could safely say that I was in what some might call a aggravated huff. When I walked through the door, I basically bypassed my roommate of almost four years with the insincere pleasantry of "How are things going?" He said almost nothing. I went back to the bedroom and tossed my bag on the bed. When I came back he stayed unusually quiet, even for an accounting type, sitting silently, pensively on the couch.

Within minutes our phone rang. It was not a normal ring, but the shorter, broken ring, that signaled it as an off campus call. By the time I picked up the phone, silent CPA was already gone, out the door like a flash of lightening. “Hello.” On the other end of the phone my dad's voice broke an uncomfortable silence. “Eric, I want you to know that we are all alright.” It was an instant tip off that something was, in fact, not right in the world. To this day I am not sure whether that was the right way for my dad to start the conversation, but I cannot think of any other, more appropriate way to start it. (My parents will always be much wiser than I!)

Over the next few minutes, my parents told me that my cousin Brian, one of my best friends, had been killed in a car accident on the way back to York College. He was a freshman youth ministry major and the starting goal keeper for their soccer team. He had a heart for the people of Zimbabwe and planned to return to the Nhowe Mission to work with the students there. Brian’s life touched thousands of people, simply because he lived the life of Christ. There were over 1,200 people who came to celebrate and honor his life at the funeral. At least two opposing soccer teams from the Wichita, Kansas area, guys that he had played against for years, came to the funeral to honor the way he lived his life because he emulated the life of Christ.

When my parents were finished, I dropped the cordless phone, hit the door with both fists (hard enough that my watch popped off of my left wrist), and fell like a sack of grain to the floor. Within seconds, my best friends were around me, laying hands on me, listening to me wail, and holding me in the midst of my pain. As soon as the phone rang, Brent, the silent accounting student, had stepped out to get Jeff and Kile from across the breezeway.

There are no words to describe my love for those guys. They were and are my community of faith. They entered my suffering that night in a profound way. As I sit here now, I am still unable to find the words to thank them for what they did for me that night and in the weeks and months following. They were Christ in the midst of my brokenness and despair.

What happened to my cousin that night was not right. I was frustrated, confused, and angry... I believe that our God brings life out of death, that he is a God of resurrection and new creation. (Some amazing things happened in the wake of Brian’s tragic death that can only be attributed to the action of God’s breaking into the world in the midst of our chaos. As I look back on my own journey, I now realize that I would probably not be in ministry if it hadn’t been for the long chain of events that unfolded in the years after his accident. Ask me sometime, if you want to hear how it impacted my spiritual journey.) My faith rests on the belief that God is working for the restoration of his world. Yet, the waters of chaos still break in all too often for my comfort. I cannot explain why God chose to just set boundaries or limits on their movement. Why did he not choose to vanquish them altogether? I guess that is why God’s creative work is an ongoing process. At times chaos seems to reign and God seems too silent, but God is still in the business of restoring life out of the chaos and death that come, even when we may not see his creative work. I guess that is a part of living the life of faith.

Today is a reminder of that. It is a reminder I need in the midst of car wrecks, hurricanes, and malignant cells that overtake the bodies of the faithful. In those times God can seem far too silent, but sometimes the silence of God is our only hope. It is in that silence that we are reminded that we cannot domesticate God. It is there that we come to see God move and act in ways that surprise us, that go beyond all that we could ask or imagine. So, out of the silence, we cry out together, trusting that an answer will come. “Rise up, O Lord, make your face shine on us, so that we may be saved.”

-----------------------------------------

“So much has changed, and so much has happened these years.
But still I find that you are waiting here.
We have a bond that nothing can change
And still I find a peace of mind whenever I hear your name
And if I seem too quiet now there are no words to show you how
I love you.”

- Glen Phillips and Toad the Wet Sprocket, “Brother”

Describing Your Life...

This week Natalie and I asked a group of friends to reflect on their spiritual lives and to create a metaphor that they felt describes them. We then asked them to flesh out the metaphors and to help us understand the how and the why behind the intersection of the metaphor and their lives.

As I was listening to their metaphors and their descriptions, I was struck again with the power of metaphor and the power of our stories. There were so many rich layers of meaning and insight that became visible, but there were also a host of latent messages that whispered through the metaphors, keys to helping elucidate how these friends are currently experiencing and engaging God, the spiritual life, their hopes, fears, dreams….

Now, all metaphors have weaknesses. They are helpful but imperfect guides. They inherently are prone to limitations, misunderstanding and abuse. But I like metaphors. They stretch our imaginations and draw us into self-reflection and introspection. They also call us to discernment as we try to understand what they define, how they guide, and what are their limits and weaknesses.

They also summon us into life, both with God and with each other. They force us into reflection and engagement. They open up new worlds of insight and the understanding of others, but also the need for ongoing dialogue and discernment as those in relationship try to make sense of how the metaphors really define and describe the life of this person with whom they are in relationship. They are also a gift of grace, for they provide us a door into the soul, a small space to tread in the lives of others. And that is real estate upon which we dare not tramp frivolously. No, these are times to unstrap the sandals, slip off the shoes, and tread lightly, humbly, for we find ourselves on holy ground.

I was truly humbled by the metaphors our friends shared. I wanted to share them briefly with you. I know that something is lost in the medium, for you don’t know my friends, you weren’t a part of the conversation, and, therefore, you may read with more questions than answers. But, I think it just might be helpful as you think about how to describe your own life, how to find some metaphor that helps make sense of your spiritual journey.

You also need to understand that most of these folks are currently struggling on their journeys. That is part of the reason we get together. Natalie and I are trying to serve as guides and encouragers, as well as fellow sojourners, on the journey. As you read these metaphors you might discover how the same metaphor could fit multiple seasons of life, depending on the lenses through which you are experiencing and interpreting the metaphor. So, here they are. Read with reverence. You are standing on holy ground.

Mountain with Thick Forest – while trying to scale to the spiritual peak, we discover that we are caught in a thick forest of religious duty and observance that traps and enslaves, keeping us from scaling to the heights. At times, through the thick foliage, there is a glimpse of the peak, a reminder that there is a timber line, there is a hope of escaping the trees and reaching the top, but more often than not, the thick forest envelops, overwhelms, and instills despair.

A Progressive Dinner – When life is a progressive dinner, you are graced by the hospitality and care of others. While at each house, you find yourself feeding not only from the goods on their table but from also from their lives, as they help invite you to learn and experience life. But you are always a stranger, on the margin of life in the family, simply invited for a time, always aware that the time will end and you will have to move on to the next home and start the process over again. One question constantly haunts the recesses of your mind: Will I ever host? Will I find a place of stability and belonging to which I can invite others and help feed them from the rich resources of my own spiritual life and hospitality?

Race Track – You circle round and round. You find yourself oscillating back and forth between the same questions, same struggles, same hopes, same failures. You vacillate between feeling that you are Christian, an atheist, and an agnostic. Is there a road that leads out? Where is the path that leads to escape from the cycle?

Great CD that You Put in Your CD Case – You’ve probably got one, maybe two. You buy it, knowing that there could never be any music that could be as sweet to the ears, as moving for the spirit, as inspiring to the heart. You listen not just diligently, but passionately, and you are changed a little more each time you hear it. But, after time, the CD finds its way into your CD case. It slowly works its way from the front, where it is among the frequently played, to the middle or maybe to the back of the pack. You pull it out occasionally and are once again inspired by its creative power on your soul, but relegate it to special times, moments, and seasons in life, even though you know deep down inside that this music is far too important to spend most of its time in the case.

Liberty Bell – The Liberty Bell. It’s a famous and favorite attraction. Many people come expectantly, hoping to see something awe inspiring. But, honestly, what do you do with the Liberty Bell? It is cracked. It’s not really good for much of anything. People have expectations, but is it really of any value other than as an historical point of intrigue?

Hamster Cage with a Spinning Wheel – There is something about the cage that is comfortable, safe. It doesn’t matter where you take the cage; the hamster is always at home, safe in its own environment, nesting in its wood chips and running on its wheel. But there is something deceptive about this safe haven, for it often leads to complacency and actually stunts growth. Sometimes the wheel actually tricks you into believing you are running and making progress, keeps you from exploring the dangerous, but liberating world.

What a gift to hear these metaphors and to try to unpack them with those who owned them. You can tell a lot about a person from their metaphor, and you can learn a lot about yourself. Sometime soon, try to find a group of people you feel like you know and trust. Ask them to think of a metaphor that describes their spiritual life. Then, spend some time together unpacking its meaning and import. I think that you will all be blessed and challenged as a result. (And you might just find yourselves a little bit closer as spiritual companions at the end of the conversation.)

Thoughts on Community

I continue to be challenged by the thought of living in authentic redemptive and reconciling community. It is something that we often discuss glibly in our churches, as though we embodied true community simply because we are "the church." Yet, it may be that this very talk, full either of self-confident hubris or blind denial, is actually the greatest obstacle to authentic community. It has become a barrier to true vulnerability, which is a place where the redemptive and reconciling work of God powerfully encounters our lives.

I was struck this morning (once again) by this convicting call to live in community from the Benedictine tradition. This excerpt is from a contemporary interpretation of Benedict's Rule:

“It is best to live one’s life with the support of a community which shares right values. When someone leaves such a community temporarily, let that person guard himself or herself. A human being is especially vulnerable when not supported by others.

"Let no one attempt to hide faults or to cover up for another. Hypocrisy is the result of such actions, and hypocritical living is false living. Humans live in groups, and honesty and candor are essential both to the health of the community and the individuals in it.

"Each day we must seek a forgiving heart, for without the cultivation of an attitude of forgiveness we will never be at peace. We will live in forgiveness only to the extent that we can truly become forgiving persons ourselves.”

From: “Community” in John McQuiston II, Always We Begin Again: The Benedictine Way of Living, 65.