A Little Child Shall Lead...

Some kids destroyed M's pumpkin bucket last night. She'd been making 'mud cakes' outside, and last night someone kicked the bucket, shattering it.

On the phone today she told me, "I want to tell them what Jesus would, 'I still love you, but you hurt my feelings by doing that. But I forgive you."

Haven't I read something somewhere about a little child leading....

The Coming Evangelical Collapse

I was blessed yesterday when one of my best friends pointed me toward an interesting piece. In a thought provoking, though slightly over-the-top, article in the Christian Science Monitor, Michael Spencer suggests that an "anti-Christian chapter in Western history is about to begin." The article is interesting in thinking about the relationship between church and culture and how to imagine what it means to be the people of God in a changing world.

Here are some of my initial, very quick and not fully developed responses to Spencer's piece and some questions my friend asked regarding its implications:

That was the sentence that I was just captured by as well. ("The integrity of the church as a countercultural movement with a message of 'empire subversion' will increasingly replace a message of cultural and political entitlement.") The grammar of imperial subversion, the rhetoric of kingdom of God is all over Scripture. (To proclaim that Jesus is "lord and Messiah/Christ" is to say firmly and boldly that Caesar is not.) This is a real problem for a church system that tries to cling to the imperial system. It has been since the Constantinian shift. This has been especially difficult in American society, when the attempt of "evangelical faith" to have a place at the table has been to align itself closely with a particular political ideology. (This is not a value statement or an attempt to say whether or not it chose the correct political side. To align and partner fully with either the right or the left, IMHO, is poor form.)

I think that the continuing marginalization of the church could be a wonderful impetus for it to regain its prophetic voice and, as the missional church folks like to say, "to cultivate what is necessary because we have left what was familiar for an uncertain and unknown future with God." Like the author here, I think that this is not a time about which to fret, clinging to that which needs to pass, but for hopeful reimagination of what God might be doing here. Everything that God's people need for God's future is among the people of God. We just have to be humble and daring enough to embrace it.


In an article/chapter I was reading yesterday, the author talked about moving from the American church culture of sham worship, worship based on a consumer mindset where God and the experience are manipulated to meet consumer demand (albeit Christian consumer demand!), to dangerous worship where we are forced to encounter God on God's terms to become formed and shaped to learn God's language and begin to think about the world according to the story of God (celebration) rather than God according to the story of the world (consumerist consumption). It was a powerful article that hits some of the challenges here.

I think that one of the questions that Jeff asked is very important: "What weakness do we face if we turn out to have a weak theology (knowledge of God) but a strong ecclesiology (knowledge of church)?" I think that a strong ecclesiology must be rooted in a strong and healthy theology. I think that has been one of the inherent weaknesses of the Churches of Christ. We have a decent ecclesiology (though far too individualistic, IMHO), but it is a house built on a weak foundation, a weak understanding of the Triune God. In light of this, many Churches of Christ, and those who have been shaped and formed on this anemic vision of God, have few resources with which to address the major things facing us in the midst of this shift. An important dialogue between orthodoxy (right thinking) and orthopraxis (right acting) must take place in our church communities, engaging our culture, our experience, and Scripture, in order for us to survive this.

Alright, I have much to do and need to get back to it, but am thankful for this quick, though wonderful little chance to think about this stuff with y'all. Sorry for my nonsensical ramblings above. Feel free to hit delete at this point, if you hadn't already long before making it here!

I followed this response up with this thought that came to me while driving to lunch....

I think that an important reason for the evangelical movement to start with theological reflection here is that far too often the evangelical movement has thought of itself as "god" (at least among the various Christian streams). Why is this theological reflection then important? Because the way you think about God matters in how you imagine yourself. If the evangelical movement continues to grope after power and lord it over others in the way that "the lords of the gentiles do", then they are working against the rich christian tradition of a crucified God/messiah. The question for the evangelical movement in America is whether or not they will willingly choose to walk the way of the cross, to choose the path of "foolishness", trusting that the God of resurrection will bring something beautiful and new out of it. Or will they choose to continue to exploit power according to the world's standards and fight for supremacy and primacy in the palace. So, theological reflection has the potential to guide the choices and decisions here, especially if a rich theology of God as Creator can help replace fear, which leads to groping for power, with hope and trust in the "God who raised Jesus from the dead."

There is a reason that Christianity has been at its best when its a religion of the marginalized and that its been at its worst when it is a tool of those with power.

Again, these are just initial reactions to the piece that are, admittedly, not well developed. What are your thoughts about Spencer's article as it relates to your experience of the church and society? What do you think about my initial reactions?

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).

A quote for the day...

We participate in the possibility of becoming faith mentors by opening our lives to God at work in us and nurturing our own spiritual journeys. We live as if we are faith mentors, and we use our skills and faith on behalf of others in the hope that God will work through us for their growth in faith. With humility, we provide guidance and discernment for those who are seeking for meaning in their lives. And we live in the hope that others will experience us as faith mentors, knowing it is not a title we may claim for ourselves.

- Sondra Higgins Matthaei

Prayers of Thanksgiving in a Cynical, Critical World

[This is the final installment of my follow-up emails I've sent to parents of the 3rd to 6th graders in my Wednesday night class. We just finished a 6-week module on prayer.]

Vocatus atque non vocatus, dues aderit.

“Bidden or unbidden, God is present” – Erasmus

“The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21b

Friends,

I am once again a few days late in composing and sending this email, but I think that it’s alright, since this entire week should flow well into last week’s lesson. On Wednesday, we concluded our six-week prayer module by discussing prayers of thanksgiving. (We’ll start a new module a week from Wednesday.) What a timely way to end our consideration of some of the different ways to imagine and practice prayer.

When things are at there best in my life, when I am the most spiritually nourished and the most in tune with myself, others, and God, I am practicing the spiritual disciplines, following a ‘rule of life’ that guides my training as an apprentice of Jesus and opens my life to the Spirit’s transformative presence. As a part of that rule, I try to intentionally cultivate the spirit of gratitude and thanksgiving in my life by: taking at least two minutes a day to pause to offer thanksgiving to God for blessings great and small, mundane and extraordinary; providing spiritual encouragement for another person each week; and providing a word of encouragement to someone daily.

I will be the first to admit that this is not an easy quality to cultivate. In fact, it’s time for confession. I have been struggling with a mini-depression over the past few months because the thanksgiving and encouragement have slipped out of my regular habit of disciplines! As I’ve been reflecting on my life and my spiritual health over the past week, I’ve realized that part of my current struggles are due to my inability to recognize God’s presence at all times, my inability to cultivate thankfulness and gratitude in all things.

Let’s be honest. It seems that most everything in our society conspires against that practice: television shows, commercials, billboards, water-cooler conversations at work, and dinner conversations at church small groups. It is difficult to navigate this labyrinth of ingratitude and find ourselves centered in thankfulness. A loss of thankfulness and gratitude plagues our lives and our families, and it has taken a destructive toll our churches, not to mention society at large. I can easily imagine reinterpreting Jesus’ parable about the soils in Mark 4 so that it speaks to the struggle of growing and sustaining seeds of thankfulness in our world today:

“The sower is the Spirit of God, tossing the seeds of thankfulness onto the hearts of God’s children. The seed that falls on the path are trampled underfoot by ingratitude and eaten by the birds of the comparison and critique. The seed that falls on the rocky ground struggles to find nourishing Living Water. The soil is shallow with no depth, and so are its roots. It sprouts quickly and looks promising, but then the sun of sarcasm and cynicism rises from the east. Its scorching heat bears down on the struggling sprout, and it quickly withers away to nothing. Other seed falls among the thorns of consumerism. For a short time sprout and the thorny weeds grow together and coexist. But in short time the thorns of discontent grew up, overtaking the seedlings of thankfulness, as the thorns of the cares of the world, the lure of wealth, the feelings of entitlement, and the insatiable desire for the latest and greatest toys and televisions, gadgets and golf clubs, cars and computers choke all life out of thankfulness. (There’s a good reason that the Friday after Thanksgiving Thursday has been affectionately dubbed “Black Friday”!) The good, fertile soil is constantly tended and watered and nurtured and weeded to protect the delicate seed, to curb critical tendencies, to treasure and value people as gifts, and to receive every experience and every thing as a gift rather an entitlement, a blessing rather than a right. The seeds of thankfulness take root there and grow into a living and active presence of God in all moments, experiences, and things. They blossom into a beautiful harvest in the midst of a bleak and barren world.”

The thankful heart requires constant nurture and cultivation, yet it carries with it an incredibly transformative potential. The potential is because gratitude helps us to realize and recognize that God is present. Thankfulness is rooted in the reality that “bidden or unbidden, God is present.” Adele Calhoun was correct when she wrote that “thankfulness is a thread that can bind together all the patchwork squares of our lives. Difficult times, happy days seasons of sickness, hours of bliss—all can be sewn together into something lovely with the thread of thankfulness.” If there is anything that our children, and all of us for that matter, need to remember, it’s that thanksgiving is possible because God is present, not because everything goes perfectly or the way that we would like or envision or imagine.

Take some time today to reflect on your own life. Where do you need to grow in thankfulness? Spend time reflecting on these questions from Calhoun’s Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices That Transform Us:

• How are you addicted to criticism, analysis and negativity? How might thankfulness be an antidote to a critical spirit?
• When have you found that in retrospect you could have been thankful for something that you were not grateful for at the time it was happening? How can this perspective inform your life now?
• How has a grateful person affected your own vision of what matters in life? How has someone who lives out of bitterness affected your life?
• How does your disposition influence your attitude toward gratitude?

Prayers of gratitude and thankfulness have the power and potential to bring healing to our churches, to bring hope to shattered relationships, to resurrect struggling marriages, and to bring new creation to our own dead and lifeless souls. It is a cure for cynicism, salve for sarcasm, a balm for our discouragement. It has the power to liberate us from the suspicion that holds us captive and to bring us to the Promised Land of joyful life in the Spirit of God. (Can’t you just imagine the incredible ways that thankfulness can help cultivate the Fruit of the Spirit in our lives!)

This week, in the midst of feasting on turkey and pumpkin pie, watching football, succumbing to the powers of tryptophan and serotonin, take some time to practice the discipline of thankfulness. Give some thanks on Thanksgiving! Try to practice one or more of the following spiritual exercises alone or together with your family this “turkey day.” (These have been modified and adapted from Calhoun.)

• Develop a family thanksgiving journal. Spend time together listing and recording the incredible gifts of God that have come to you this past year in the form of people, experiences, blessings, struggles, challenges, successes, and failures. (Or create a scrapbook with photos and pictures. Write short prayers of thanksgiving next to each one.) Spend some time thinking and talking about how these things have changed you and what it means that God has been present in all of them.
• Read Psalm 136 together as a family. Choose one person to read the first half of each verse and then have everyone respond together: “His steadfast love endures for ever!” Continue with your own litany of praise, inviting everyone in the family to call out something for which they are thankful. After each one, everyone in the group should respond, “His steadfast love endures forever!”
• Write a letter of thanks to someone who has touched your life in the past year, the past month, and the past. If you do this together as a family, take time to prayer for each person, thanking God for each person by name and thanking God for being present in your lives through each of those people.
• What sorts of things tend to encourage you in thankfulness? Praise songs? Worship? Prayer? Time spent with friends? Time alone in solitude and reflection? Giving and receiving presents? Helping the poor or disenfranchised? What tends to discourage you or make thankfulness more difficult? When do you sense comparison, sarcasm, cynicism, and discontentment taking root in your soul? Plan ways to incorporate the things that encourage thankfulness into your life on a regular basis. Try to find ways to remove the things that are an impediment to having thankful heart.
• Hold a thank-you party. Invite the people you want to honor with a thank you. Create and send out personalized invitations and spend the time celebrating and honoring them. (It might be a little uncomfortable for them at the time, but I think that they’ll leave being incredibly blessed and encouraged!)
• Notice your tendency to make comparisons that result in feelings of dissatisfaction or entitlement. Practice abstaining from comparative statements about what you don’t have. Instead give thanks for what you do have.

Whatever else you may do this week, take advantage of the chance to give thanks! Help cultivate a spirit of thanksgiving in your children. May God help us all as we grow in thankfulness.

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.

Thought for the Day...

Here's a thought for the day on the spiritual life from the spiritual autobiography of Thomas Merton...

In one sense we are always traveling, and traveling as if we did not know where we were going.
In another sense we have already arrived.
We cannot arrive at the perfect possession of God in this life, and that is why we are traveling and in darkness. But we already possess Him by grace, and therefore, in that sense, we have arrived and are dwelling in the light.
But oh! How far have I to go to find You in Whom I have already arrived!

The Seven Storey Mountain, 419.

Reflect on your own life. Do you feel, like Merton, that you are traveling to an unknown destination at which, ironically, you've already arrived? How does this describe your spiritual experience, your faith journey? How is it different?

Long time...

Well, it's been a while since I've posted here. My world has been pretty hectic of late. I don't say that pridefully, for I know firsthand the results and impact of the sin of busyness and "overcommittedness."

Though I am missing my girls TERRIBLY!, this has been a good weekend, on the whole. I've gotten a lot of work done, though it seems there's always more to do. I've been on a television fast since Friday morning, which has been incredibly trying (strange for a guy who didn't even watch television several years ago). I've been able to go and "be"with people from LOCC, feeling fully present in a way that I often don't. I spent yesterday morning at a funeral of the father of a dear woman in our church. I was able to grab her seven-year-old son, give him a hug (at least as close to a hug as you can give a 7yo!), and validate all of the strange things that are going on inside of him. I spent about seven hours with friends from LO at a cookout. We ate, laughed, shared stories and life, played volleyball and horseshoes, and fellowshipped in the Spirit of God. It was a gift to be able to receive others fully yesterday, and by doing so to receive the presence of God in them. I got a lot of work done toward my sermon for today. (I don't think I've ever "finished" a sermon; I continue to edit and modify until the moment I am in the pulpit. Then the editing is done on the fly!) It was prep work for sermon that was not to be, at least not or today. The wonderful afternoon of fun gave me a nice flare up of seasonal allergies that attacked me all night long. In order to spare my class and the congregation having to watch my nose leak and listen to me cough all the way through the sermon, I called in the replacements. (Thank goodness for people who will bail you out at the last minute!)

I've also been able to do a good bit of reading this weekend. I read some from O'Day's brilliant commentary on the Gospel of John in the New Interpreter's Bible. Wonderful stuff! I also read Darryl Tippens' new book, Pilgrim Heart: The Way of Jesus in Everyday Life. I highly recommend this read to you. It's a wonderful and very accessible look at the Christian journey as the cultivation of a "worldly spirituality." It is a helpful book that I am hoping to start reading with my elders soon. I think that it does a good job making the spiritual life accessible, especially to our tribe, when other volumes on the spiritual life might seem a little too difficult to use in our everyday lives. Tippens is deeply grounded in the Scriptures and the Christian spiritual tradition.

He wants us to hear Jesus invitation to "Follow me." He writes, Jesus' invitation reflects how the Christian life is rather simply, at one level. It is a matter of rejecting the allure of the sedentary life in order to get out on the road and seek God. The saints through the ages can be recognized by their searching spirits. They live as strangers and foreigners on the earth. "[T]hey desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them" (Hebrews 11:14-16). A faithful heart is always a passionate pilgrim heart, ever on the road, ever moving forward--searching for understanding, seeking the face of God (198).

I also loved this quote, especially in light of my work with college students and young adults and couples who are struggling with the hard questions of life and faith which are too often not welcome questions in "the church": Through the years I have been blessed by faithful friends who have not merely tolerated, but welcomed, my questions. In their hospitable company something quite unexpected happened. The doubts grew less fierce in the warm glow of their welcome. When I saw that my toughest questions did not rattle or unsettle them, I became more settled and less doubtful. Airing the doubts, I have found does not enlarge them--just the reverse....Wondering and wandering may be necessary to spiritual discovery whereas making doubts taboo only ensures that they grow stronger (196). (I like the "wondering and wandering! I should have gotten that trademarked! ;-) )

He goes on to say something that I may pass out to several godly and wonderful parents at LOCC: When we desperately want others, especially those most dear to us, to believe, it is often hard to grant them the space to question and to work things through. We want to see them arrive at the shining destination by the shortest route. Yet one of the finest gifts we can give strugglers is the freedom to take the long way 'round. Jesus promises us that if we ask, we will receive; if we search, we will find; if we knock, the door will be opened (Matthew 7:7-11) A good question to ask ourselves is this: Do we trust Jesus on this point? (191)

Here are three quotes that Tippens mines out of the writers of the spiritual tradition that captured my attention today:

From Soren Kierkegaard (in Tippens' chapter on discernment): What I really need it to be clear about what I must do, not what I must know....What matters is to find a purpose, to see what it really is that God wills that I should do; the crucial thing is to find a truth which is truth for me, to find the idea for which I am willing to live and die....[O]f what use would it be to me to be able to formulate the meaning of Christianity...if it had no deeper meaning for me and for my life?

From Flannery O'Conner (in Tippens' chapter on suffering): I think there is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe. I know what torment this is, but I can only see it, in myself anyway, as the process by which faith is deepened....What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe. If you can't believe, you must at least do this: keep an open mind. Keep it open toward faith, keep wanting it, keep asking for it, and leave the rest to God.

From Thomas Merton (in Tippens' chapter on seeking): My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following you will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Well, after writing this I still miss my girls. I get to seem them around noon tomorrow. Tomorrow come quickly!

Thoughts on the journey from old friends...

Prayer must penetrate and enliven every department o four life, including that which is most temporal and transient. Prayer does not despise even the seemingly lowliest aspects of man’s temporal existence. It spiritualizes all of them and gives them a divine orientation. But prayer is defiled when it is turned away from God and from thee spirit, and manipulated in the interests of group fanaticism.

In such cases, religion is understood to be at least implicitly misdirected, and therefore the “God” whom it invokes becomes, or tends to become, a mere figment of the imagination. Such religion is insincere. It is merely a front for greed, injustice, sensuality, selfishness, violence. The cure for this corruption is to restore the purity of faith and the genuineness of Christian love: and this means a restoration of the contemplative orientation of prayer.

Real contemplatives will always be rare and few. Butt ht is not a matter of importance, as long as the whole Church is predominately contemplative in all her teaching, all her activity and all her prayer. There is no contradiction between action and contemplation when Christian apostolic activity is raised to the level of pure charity. On that level, action and contemplation are fused into one entity by the love of God and of our brother in Christ. But the trouble is that if prayer is not deep, powerful and pure and filled at all times with the spirit of contemplation, Christian action can never really reach this high level.

Without the spirit of contemplation in all our worship—that is to say without the adoration and love of God above all, for his own sake, because he is God—the liturgy will not nourish a really Christian apostolate based on Christ’s love and carried out in the power of the Pneuma.

The most important need in the Christian world today is this inner truth nourished by this Spirit of contemplation: the praise and love of God, the longing for the coming of Christ, the thirst for the manifestation of God’s glory, his truth, his justice, his Kingdom in the world. These are all characteristically “contemplative” and eschatological aspirations of the Christian heart, and they are the very essence of monastic prayer. Without them our apostolate is more for our own glory than for the glory of God.

Without this contemplative orientation we are building churches not to praise him but to establish more firmly the social structures, values and benefits that we presently enjoy. Without this contemplative basis to our preaching, our apostolate is not apostolate at all, but mere proselytizing to insure universal conformity with our own national way of life.

Without contemplation and interior prayer the Church cannot fulfill her mission to transform and save mankind. Without contemplation, she will be reduced to being the servant of cynical and worldly powers, no matter how hard her faithful may protest that they are fighting for the Kingdom of God.

Without true, deep contemplative aspirations, without a total love for God and an uncompromising thirst for his truth, religion tends in the end to become an opiate.

- Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer, 115-116.

The world says, “When you were young you were dependent and could not go where you wanted, but when you grow old you will be able to make your own decisions, go your own way, and control your own destiny.” But Jesus has a different vision of maturity: It is the ability and willingness to be led where you would rather not go. [See Jn 21:18.] Immediately after Peter has been commissioned to be a leader of the sheep, Jesus confronts him with the hard truth that the servant-leader is the leader who is being led to unknown, undesirable, and painful places. The way of the Christian leader is not the way of upward mobility in which our world has invested so much, but the way of downward mobility ending on the cross. This might sound morbid or masochistic, but for those who have heard the voice of the first love and said yes to it, the downward-moving way of Jesus is the way to the joy and the peace of god, a joy and peace that is not of this world.

Here we touch the most important quality of Christian leadership in the future. It is not a leadership of power and control, but a leadership of powerlessness and humility in which the suffering servant of God, Jesus Christ, is made manifest.

- Henri Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus, 81-82

On Loving God: Lessons on the Life of Faith from Twelfth Century Clairvaux

It is strange the way the Spirit of God moves and converges at times. I have wanted for a while now to tease out a way to share some thoughts gained from one of the greatest Christian spiritual classics I have read. While I would love to find a prayer group or a Sunday class to read and discuss the piece, now, in the wake of GP’s powerful sermon two weeks ago and in light of KM’s article in the Shepherds’ Corner the same day, seems like a perfect time to share briefly some thoughts from On Loving God by Bernard of Clairvaux.

While not perfect, Bernard was one of the greatest leaders in the history of the Church. Bernard was born in Fontaines-les-Dijon, France, in 1090, and at the age of 22, he entered the monastery of Citeaux as a novice. Just three years later he was appointed to begin a new monastery at Clairvaux, where he would guide and supervise a group his fellow monks. His deep spirituality, combined with his personal magnetism and gift as an eloquent speaker, opened many doors to higher positions in the church, but he turned them down to serve his brothers in Clairvaux. Bernard played a major role in the spiritual revival and restoration of the church in the twelfth century and beyond, and he continues to challenge Christians today, driving them to prayerful introspection and reflection on their own relationships with God.

Whether you know Bernard’s name or not, you have likely been theologically shaped and spiritually molded by his work and legacy. Some of you obsessively observant types may recognize his name. A year or two ago, JW mentioned Bernard during some thoughts around the Lord’s Table. Others of you will recognize him as the author of several theologically rich and spiritually powerful hymns that we love, like “O Sacred Head,” “Jesus, Thou Joy of Loving Hearts,” and “Jesus, the Very Thought of Thee.” His pastoral work and spiritual legacy are powerful. I hope that these reflections on his best known writing will encourage you on your spiritual journey.

Today, I simply want to leave with you an excerpt from the first chapter of this marvelous reflection on loving God. In it he begins to remind us of the centrality of love in the life of faith. In a world were we far too often elevate other things to place of first importance, whether projects, preferences, or even doctrinal purity, his work is a welcome and needed plea to return to loving God “in purity of heart, in sincerity of soul, and in holiness of life.”

You ask me, “Why should God be loved, and how much should we love him?” I answer: the reason for loving God is God himself; and the measure of love due to him is immeasurable love. And why should God be loved for his own sake? Simply because no one could be more justly loved than God, no one deserves our love more. Some may question if God deserves our love or if they might have something to gain by loving him. The answer to both questions is yes, but I find no other worthy reason for loving him except God himself.

God is entitled to our love. Why? Because he gave himself for us despite the fact that we are so undeserving. What better could he have given? If we ask why God is entitled to our love, we should answer, “Because he first loved us” (1 Jn 4.19). God is clearly deserving of our love especially if we consider who he is that loves us, and how great was his love.

For who is God? Is he not the one to whom every spirit bears witness: “Thou art my God: my possessions are nothing to Thee” (Ps 16.2)? His true love is precisely this: that it does not seek its own interests (1 Cor 13.5). And how much does he love us? He so loved the world that he gave his only Son; he laid down his life for us (Jn 3.16). This is the claim that God the holy, the supreme, the omnipotent, has upon humanity. (fr. Bernard of Clairvaux, On Loving God

The Apophatic Way

Recently I've been rediscovering the apophatic way. I don't have much time to describe it now, but suuffice it to say that apophaticism is an acknowledgement that God is mystery, beyond our full comprehension, beyond the captivity of our limited language. I have been taking this journeying with some old friends: St. John of the Cross, Bernard of Clairvaux, Julian of Norwich, Thomas Merton. I've also been journeying with a new friend, Belden Lane. Lane wrote a wonderful book the subject entitled, The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality. I hope to write some reflections on this book more in the future, but that will have to wait for another time. Today, I want to sahre with you a prayer from Merton that caught my rekindled apophatic attention....

"Teach me to go to the country beyond words and beyond names. Teach me to pray on this side of the frontier, here where these woods are.

I need to be led by you. I need my heart to be moved by you. I need my soul to be made clean by your prayer. I need my will to be made strong by you. I need the world to be saved and changed by you. I need you for all those who suffer, who are in prison, in danger, in sorrow. I need you for all the crazy people. I need your healing hand to work always in my life. I need you to make me, as you made your Son, a healer, a comforter, a savior. I need you to name the dead. I need you to help the dying cross their particular rivers. I need you for myself whether I live or die. I need to be your monk and your son. It is necessary. Amen."

Thomas Merton. A Search for Solitude. Journals, volume 4. Lawrence S. Cunningham, editor. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996: 46-47

Wisdom for the season from Nouwen

I celebrated my 32 birthday on Saturday. When I was in Tulsa for the Workshop, my aunt, uncle, and 4 full-of-life cousins gave me Henri Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership as a birthday gift. I love Nouwen's work. He is one of the few authors I reread, as I find his words both a continual challenge to my inner-struggles and a source of strength and empowerment for the journey of faith. This book is definitely an example of that dichotomy.

Today, is Tuesday in Holy Week. I find myself at the height of Lenten introspection and reflection, which leads to the Spirit's revelation of personal struggle and sin. Just now, in the wake of writing a confessional email to my parents about some of my own inner compulsions and struggles in my vocational calling, God spoke to me through the little introduction to this short book. I want to leave you with a few of the lines that have challenged me today....

I asked myself, "What decisions have you been making lately and how are they a reflection of the way you sense the future?" Somehow I have to trust that God is at work in me and that the way I am being moved to new inner and outer places is part of a larger movement of which I am only a very small part. (p. 19)

After twenty-five years of priesthood, I found myself praying poorly, living somewhat isolated from other people, and very much preoccupied with burning issues. Everyone way saying that I was doing really well, but something inside was telling me that my success was putting my own soul in danger. I began to ask myself whether my lack of contemplative prayer, my loneliness, and my constantly changing involvement in what seemed most urgent were signs that the Spirit was gradually being suppressed. It was very hard for me to see clearly, and though I never spoke about hell or only jokingly so, I woke up one day with the realization that I was living in a very dark place and that the term "burnout" was a convenient psychological translation for a spiritual death.

Nouwen spends the rest of this little volume discussing the movement from three temptations to three new disciplines: 1) from relevance to prayer; 2) from popularity to ministry; and 3) from leading to being led. (In that way, this will likely be similar to his The Way of the Heart) I look forward to finishing these challenging and insightful words from one of my author-mentors in the faith.

“Everyone Who Thirsts, Come to the Waters…”

“Everyone Who Thirsts, Come to the Waters…”

Third Sunday in Lent, 2007: 11 March 2007

Ps. 63:1-8; Isa. 55:1-9; 1 Cor. 10:1-13

The weather is finally warming up. The snow pack is starting to disappear. Green grass is beginning to appear. Signs of spring are all around us. Spring is the time of year when new life begins to blossom out of the cold death of winter. For me it’s a reminder that Easter is near, and as I prepare to celebrate the crucifixion and resurrection, it is a season of reflection, repentance, and confession. Call it a little spiritual spring cleaning. It is a time of restoration, during which I set to refocus my vision on Christ as the model for life. Spring is a season of introspection. Introspection is rarely easy and often painful, because most of us prefer to not examine the dark places of our own lives and souls. Instead, we try to forget how far we are from the calling of God, ignoring our shortcomings, our failures, and our sin. It’s much easier to remain intellectually focused, ritually and doctrinally sound, and emotionally detached from faith and the object of our faith. But I can’t do that in the spring. Something about the new life blossoming out of winter opens my life and allows God to confront me with Scriptures that dare me to look deep within myself and to allow God to heal the brokenness that I find there.

That is what this passage has done to me this week. I have spent everyday this week reading this passage from Isaiah 55 several times and opening my heart to the Spirit to let it do its work on me. It hasn’t always been fun, much less pretty, but there is such a strong word of hope and life here, that it has been worth the journey. It is a reminder that spring is a herald of Easter, where the God of resurrection brings about new creation and breathes new life into that which was dead.

[Pray.]

As we step into the world of our text this morning, we are ushered into a street scene. My mind immediately rushes to Proverbs 9, where we hear the competing calls of Woman Wisdom and the Foolish Woman. They send their girls out to the streets of town and have them call out from high places to all who pass by, “You who are simple, turn in here for water and wine and bread!” These sirens call out in the marketplace. They seem to know our desire, our need, our craving, our emptiness, our striving, our longing.

I have spent time among the street vendors in the African or Thai marketplace, listening to their competing voices offering up their wares. I watched consumers and clients, patrons and pilgrims bartering for the best deals, trying to get the best bang for their buck. (Okay, I confess that I have been one of those barterers!) The vendors call to us tempting us with fragrant foods and beautiful merchandise and colorful goods.

But the venders in life are not simply about handmade trinkets or cheap souvenirs. Their call strikes at the heart of that very longing and offers to fill our need. Here in this country we’ve made a multibillion dollar industry of playing on people’s needs and desires, dreams, longings, fears, and insecurities. We continually work to offer the next best thing that promises to fill the void, to solve the problem, to quench our spiritual, emotional, and relational thirst.

But all of these things are hollow, like the empty calories that we eat, hoping to feed our hunger, only to find that we are hungrier and more malnourished than we were before we ate them… As people, we struggle with the temptation of constantly striving for the next thing to satisfy our desires, to get our fix. We look to quench the deep thirst of our souls, to slake our hunger in so many places, in so many things, in so many people…. And far too often we buy into the lies; we keep the madness going. “We spend our money for that which is not bread, and our labor for that which does not satisfy” (55:2).

Anne Lamott is one of my favorite writers on faith. I like her because her coming to faith has been a very long and colorful journey. Her writing is not for the faint of heart. It is honest, probing, reflective, and at times incredibly raw. In a book of some of her reflections on faith, Lamott writes some compelling thoughts on her battle with her own “thirst.” It seemed to fit so well with our Scripture for today that I was drawn back to it all week. She writes,

“I knew by the time I was twenty that I was an alcoholic, even though I was not quite sure what that meant. I liked being an alcoholic; I liked drinking and getting high or drunk with other people like me—I thought of us as being like everyone else, only more so. More alive. Deeper.… And all sorts of other [lies] we tell ourselves when we have lost the ability to control our drinking.

“One day in 1985, I woke up so hungover that I felt pinned to the bed by centrifugal force…. I was literally glued to my pillow by drool. I decided to quit drinking. And I was doing quite well, in fact, until five o’clock that first night. Then the panic set in. Thankfully, I had a moment of clarity in which I understood that the problem was not that I drank so much but that I drank too quickly. The problem was with pacing. So I had a good idea. I would limit myself to two beers a night. Two beers! What a great idea.

“I went to the market, which was one block away, and got two beers—two beers, sort of. What I bought were two sixteen-ounce Rainier Ales…. I took the two Rainier Ales home, and I drank one. I got a little high, but it was only 5:30. And I realized I was going to have to make the second sixteen-ounce Rainier Ale last until bedtime. So after I put on my thinking cap, I realized that if I was going to pace myself successfully, I might need a little… supplement.

“Luckily, I had a Nike box full of prescription pills…. I took one blue Valium that night—so little, so helpless, smaller even than a tic tac—and washed it down with part of the second sixteen-ounce Rainier Ale. Twenty minutes later I began to feel better, a little calmer. More whole. More like God.

“So I was able to fall asleep that night at a nice early hour, like 7:30, and I slept like a baby and woke up twelve hours later, completely refreshed. Wow! I thought. This is fantastic: no hangover, no being glued to the pillow. Whenever people called that morning and asked how I was, I said I felt great, which was true, and that I was on the wagon, which I believed I was, in the reform sense of the phrase….

“By the fifth day, though, after drinking the first of my sixteen ounce Rainer Ales, I began to resent anyone’s attempts to control me—even my own. And so, as an act of liberation, I bought a fifth of Bushmills Irish Whiskey and had drunk it all by dawn.

“It only took me one more year to admit that I could no longer control my drinking. And finally on July 7, 1986, I quit, and let a bunch of sober alcoholics teach me how to get sober, and stay sober….

“Early on I heard a sober person say, ‘Religion is for people who are afraid of hell; spirituality is for people who have been there.’… I love to listen to [sober alcoholics] tell their stories of ruin; I’m a sucker for a good resurrection story. And I love to hear of their efforts not to see what was as plain as day…. I love these stories because they show where we began, and therefore how far we have come, from the blame and delusions of our drinking days to the gentle illusions by which we stay sober.” (Traveling Mercies, 184-189)

It would be easy to dismiss Lamott’s account of her attempts to quench her deep thirst with alcohol as someone else’s problem, as something to which we are immune, inoculated by some special vaccine that protects us from our own longings, our own compulsive cycles of sin and addiction. But none of us is immune to the longing to fill the restlessness of our hearts. We all find ourselves settling for cheap substitutes, for that which doesn’t give life. At times we all put in enormous “effort not to see what was as plain as day.” To one degree or another, we all suffer from the disease described by Augustine, who, after reflecting on all the things he did to find peace and fulfillment in his life, prayed, “God, you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

We try to fill the emptiness and restlessness with that which is not bread and that which does not truly satisfy (55:2)….. For Israel in exile, it was a deep fascination with Babylonian power and the Babylonian gods. They thought that they could be their source of hope, security, and life. The contemporary exilic prophet Jeremiah put it this way, “My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and dug out cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that can hold no water.” (Jer 2:13) It is such an unnatural response: the people of God turning from the fountain of living water to go after that which doesn’t satisfy, putting their trust in cisterns that can’t even hold stagnant water, much less flow with living water.

For us it may be different, but we struggle with compulsion nonetheless. We may try to fill our emptiness with an addiction: alcohol, prescription meds, work, food, gambling, sex, pornography. People use all of these things to still the restlessness of their hearts. It may be material things. You may be enslaved by a consumer driven society to buying the newest and the latest, the hottest items that promise to make life better and more worthwhile to live. It may be your relationships with people. You may be sucking the life out of your friends or your children or your spouse because you are asking them to fill a place and a need that only God can fill. Or maybe it’s power, which feeds us the false sense that we are dependent on nothing other than our own prowess, pride, proficiency and prestige, that in some way we are our own god.

We could even be trying to quench our thirst with something that is as seemingly innocuous, or even beneficial, as religion itself. But that may be the most dangerous compulsion, possibly far more dangerous than the enslavement to alcohol that Lamott describes. Spiritual things can become another commodity that we use to try to quench what only the life giving water of God can fill. Sometimes it comes in our need to get the next religious ‘fix,’ where we feed off of spiritual highs and need to have the next new religious experience in order to feel alive. Or, it can be the prideful need for right religious observance or doctrinal purity, where our faith is often placed in our rightness instead of God’s righteousness and our life is found in our purity rather than in God’s pure living water. Both of these are equally as dangerous and empty of what gives real life. They are religion as a drug, an “empty food” that doesn’t nourish or satisfy.

And it is here, it is here that our text encounters us, scrutinizes us, critiques us, and summons us to something new, something better, something real, something that satisfies and gives life (55:3), offering us something to quench our thirst and sate our hunger. But this is not just another cry from any ordinary vendor. The voice of street vendor crying out in our text is none other than the voice of Yahweh.

God calls us to give up our fascination with power, with possessions, with both lifeless religion and empty attempts at spirituality, and to return to the free, gracious, and compassionate gift of the only one who can give true life, who can deliver us from our enslavement to ourselves and to the principalities and powers of the present evil age.

God has moved and provided the grace, that which gives life. He offers us an alternative, a new vision of the world, where the priceless things that truly satisfy are given freely and abundantly. He offers us the chance to change and grow, to stop spending our money for that which is not bread, and our labor for that which does not satisfy. God offers us the knowledge and love of another on terms other than those of our own fear and compulsion. Will we continue in our idolatry, persist in our sin? Will we keep trying to feed our hunger with what doesn’t satisfy or nourish, drink that which doesn’t quench our thirst?

Thirst. Everyone who thirsts, come. Thirst. Thirst is all that is required. All you need is to admit your thirst. Give up the illusion that you can find something to quench your own thirst. Then come; don’t wait; come, buy and drink from the deep wells of God.

The cry of our hearts must echo the cry of the Psalmist from our call to worship today: “Oh God, you are my God. I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Ps. 63:1)

And God hears our cry and replies: “Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters… Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear to me, and come to me; listen, so that you may live!” (55:1, 2b-3a)

Can’t you just hear the voice of Jesus saying to the woman at the well, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water, water that will truly quench you thirst. The water I give will become in those who drink a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (John 4:10, 14).

But this morning, maybe we need to hear the call again. Maybe you find yourself compulsively going after things that do not satisfy. Maybe you feel the emptiness of a life nourished only on that which is not true bread. Maybe your soul is parched and thirsty for God, as “a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Hear the cry of God above the voices of the other street vendors this morning, “Everyone who is thirsty, come to the waters…. Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let the return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon” (55:1, 6-7).

Thirst is all that is required. If you are thirsty, come, seek and find the Lord.

Lent and the Love of God

“Fear nothing and never be afraid; and don’t fret. If only your penitence fail not, God will forgive all. There is no sin, and there can be no sin on all the earth, which the Lord will not forgive to the truly repentant! Man cannot commit a sin so great as to exhaust the infinite love of God. Can there be a sin that would exceed the love of God?

“Think only of repentance, continual repentance, but dismiss fear altogether. Believe that God loves you as you cannot conceive; that he loves you with your sin, in your sin. It has been said of old that over one repentant sinner there is more joy in heaven than over ten righteous men.

“Now go, and fear not. Be not bitter against men. Be not angry if you are wronged. Forgive the dead man in your heart what wrong he did you. Be reconciled with him in truth. If you are penitent, you love. And if you love, you are of God. All things are atoned for, all things are saved by love.

If I, a sinner even as you are, am tender with you and have pity on you, how much more will God. Love is such a priceless treasure that you can redeem the whole world by it, and expiate not only your own sins but the sins of others.”

- from Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

We are all wired differently. We engage the spiritual life, the life of faith, in different ways. Some of us thrive on solitude, silence, and prayer, while others long for the boisterous clamor of fellowship or the emotive power of rich worship. Some crave the intense, intentional study of the Word, while others are filled with life by emptying themselves for the sake of others in service. Now, ideally we will find ourselves moving into fluidly between each of these spheres, as we see modeled in the life of Jesus, but most of us have a tendency to gravitate naturally to one or another. That is one of the reasons that we need community. We need to be in relationship with those who thrive on different aspects of the spiritual life because it will help all of us be more holistic in our faith; we need others like ourselves to remind us that we are not alone, to encourage us on the journey of faith.

That is one reason that I am so thankful that many in the Churches of Christ are (re)discovering the beauty of the Christian calendar. Growing up I remember listening to people preach about the resurrection at Christmas and about the birth of Christ on Easter Sunday. It was always a little strange to me, out of place, like eating turkey and dressing on the Fourth of July. Even then, at that early age, there was something inside of me, something about my wiring, that needed the natural movement of the Christian calendar to help make sense of the seasons of my spiritual journey. I am neither smart enough nor disciplined enough to live into all of the depth and beauty of the Christian life each and every day. I needed the ebbs and flows of the Christian year as a vital part of my spirituality to help me on my journey. I need the birth of Christ at Christmas after the season of anticipation called Advent, the resurrection on Easter after the season of fasting, repentance, and preparation called Lent.

This week we find ourselves right in the middle of the season many Christians call Lent. While for many of us this may just bring up memories of “fishy Fridays” in our elementary school cafeterias, Lent is much more than that. Lent is a season of personal and corporate reflection and introspection, of repentance and confession. (This is important in a tradition like ours that has often minimized “confession” to be a statement of our belief in Jesus before baptism.) It is a time of restoration, during which we our refocus our vision of Christ as the model for our own lives. It is a time of solidarity, where we seek to refocus our vision for the “least of these.” So, during this time we reflect on God’s work in the world, on Christ’s cruciform (cross-shaped) life and mission, and we reflect on how our own spiritual journey can grow more into a reflection of his life in the world.

From very early in the history of the church, Lent developed as a season of introspection and repentance for those who were studying and preparing for baptism. The early church understood the deep commitment that came with baptism, and they did not want anyone to enter the baptismal waters lightly or haphazardly, so this season of fasting and commitment was vital to those who were counting the cost of taking up their cross and following Jesus. It was also a time when the baptized community looked deep within their own hearts to consider their own lives, their commitment to and their failings in answering the call of Christ. All of this led to the renewal of their baptismal commitments during the celebration of Easter, a recommitting of their lives to the way of Jesus.

That is why this forty day season is so important to me. This is a time of deep reflection and introspection for me. It is a time of confession and repentance. It is a time during which I try to commit myself to dying to sin, to seeking the way of the cross, to hungering and thirsting for God, to living for the sake of others. It is a time of preparation for me, when I set my mind to reconsidering the intense and all encompassing claims of my baptism on my life and prepare to recommit myself again to walking in the way of Jesus.

I guess that is one reason that I love Dostoevsky’s words on the deep wells of the love of God that exceed all of my sin and failings. As I live in “continual repentance” for these forty days of Lent, his words serve as an empowering reminder: “Fear nothing and never be afraid; and don’t fret. If only your penitence fail not, God will forgive all. There is no sin, and there can be no sin on all the earth, which the Lord will not forgive to the truly repentant! Man cannot commit a sin so great as to exhaust the infinite love of God. Can there be a sin that would exceed the love of God? Think only of repentance, continual repentance, but dismiss fear altogether. Believe that God loves you as you cannot conceive.”