"I Want You"

In his timely book, which probably should be required Christmas reading for all followers of Jesus, Christmas is Not Your Birthday, Mike Slaughter quotes Alan and Deb Hirsch who point out in their book Untamed: “Of all the ways culture influences the church, nothing has had more of an impact on us than that of a consumerist vision of society. We have all been impacted by the powerful experience of society that is preoccupied with the acquisition of consumer goods. From good old Santa Claus (a religious symbol co-opted to disciple children in thorough-going materialism from early childhood on) to the complete ubiquity of niche marketing, we are daily being nurtured in the worldview generated by late capitalism of the twenty-first century—consumerism.” (Untamed: Reactivating a Missional Form of Discipleship. Baker Books, 2010, 137).

We could elaborate on how this cultural influence can be seen in the ways that we approach worship, build and equip our worship places, buy “Christian” brands, gauge our success as churches by how many people we get in the seats, etc. But since they mention Santa, let’s just focus on Christmas.

I often get the feeling these days that I am not a very good American, not a patriot, because I am not consuming as much as I should. After all, the daily drumbeat of the news, with its constant eye on the Dow Jones, is a reminder that it is Christmas that makes or breaks the retail market, and, by implication, the health of our economy and country.

I just refuse to play that game. If I read the Gospels correctly and listen to the witness of the church, Christmas is a reminder that in the midst of all the “stuff” the world promises us, gives us and surrounds us with, what we really need is God’s love. First John puts it this ways: “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to clear away our sins and the damage they've done to our relationship with God. Dear Friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another” (1 John 4:9-11)

A while back I came across the story of a little girl who had to spend some time in a hospital. She came from a very well-to-do family, and her family show¬ered her with expensive gifts during her stay in the hospital. There were large overstuffed toys, including a 6 foot tall giraffe, dolls and a dollhouse, games of every description. The mother, who was well known in social circles brought something new every time she came to see the little girl. But she never stayed long because she always had to get to some luncheon or party. But she never failed to bring a gift. The nurses com¬plained about the enormous amount of toys that made it difficult for them to move about in the child's room. One day the little girl was particularly unhappy in the midst of all her many gifts, and held desperately to her mother as her mother tried to break free so that she wouldn't be late to a bazaar she was scheduled to attend. The mother tried to divert the child's attention to the new toy she had brought. "Mommy," cried the little girl, "I want you." Surrounded by gifts, surrounded by “stuff”, she wanted the most important thing of all, her moth¬er's presence and her mother’s love

I wonder how long it will take for us to realize that about Christmas, in fact, our total pursuit of the “good life”? What we really need is not just more stuff, but love. What we need most is not the promised security of things, whether it be a healthy bank account or a well-armed military to protect our “stuff”. What we need most is a meaningful personal relationship with the God who loves us and cares for us. And as a result of knowing that love, the ability to love others and to be loved by others.

Christmas IS first and foremost about love. Christmas tells us that God has come into our broken and lonely world to love us and show us what true love is. It is a love that is not based on how good we are or how smart we are, or how well connected we are, but simply because we ARE. Experiencing the love of God and allowing that love to wash over us and through us to others is one of the greatest experiences we can have this Christmas. Will it be yours and mine?

Bypassing Advent

A few years back, Stanley Grenz wrote an article that appeared in Christianity Today entitled “Drive Through Christmas.” Here is an adaption of what he wrote:

“On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me." Tony Bennett's voice wove its subtle magic throughout the shopping mall. How appropriate, I thought, as I watched the shoppers scurry from store to store. The advertisements promised "just the right gifts at just the right price," allowing us to "give like Santa and save like Scrooge."

As I listened, I was struck with how we have turned Christmas around—not so much by commercializing the season, but through something deeper. Our McWorld of drive-through expectations has replaced patient waiting, followed by heartfelt joyous celebration, with the idolatry of instant gratification.

As members of the fast-food generation, we have become so eager to get to Christmas that we bypass Advent. Whereas an earlier generation encouraged fasting and reflection, we try to enjoy days filled with more Christmas festivities than we can endure. Christmas has displaced Advent on our calendars.

But our bypassing of Advent runs deeper—altering our attitude to the story of Christ's birth. We know how the story ends. Knowing the end of the story so well, we want to rush through the long and tortuous details of how God prepared a people—of how "God sent his Son…when the time had fully come" (Galatians 4:4). Rather than entering into the sense of expectation lying at the foundation of the story of Christ's entrance into human history, we read only the story's glorious climax. Rather than savoring the plaintive mood of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," we immediately want to hear a robust version of "Joy to the World, the Lord Is Come." In short, we have our Christmas early and create a drive-through Christmas."

What Grenz is lamenting is the reality that for many people there is no time or room for Advent, those four weeks preceding Christmas. It gets in the way. Like kids who just want to get to the dessert, we want Christmas.

But Advent is important. That is why the church for centuries has been observing it. With its emphasis on expectation and hope, peace and joy and the need for and discovery of real love, Advent helps prepare us for Christmas. It helps get us ready to fully appreciate and celebrate the real significance of Christmas and to see it in the grand scope of God’s plan for the universe.

In our home, for decades we have lit an Advent wreath. Each day of the four weeks, beginning with the fourth Sunday before Christmas, we pause in the evening to light the appropriate candle for the week (Hope/Expectation, Peace, Joy, and Love), read a passage of Scripture and a brief meditation on the passage in the light of that week’s theme, and pray. For me, this practice sanctifies time and reminds us that Christmas is more than decorations, parties, hectic shopping and gift giving. It is a time to rest and allow the profound truth that God, the Sovereign God of the universe, because of love, enters into the drama of our human lives and history in the person of Jesus. God comes as a vulnerable baby, dependent on others.

Advent helps me to see that in a world so often devoid of hope, peace, joy and love, that God comes to give us these gifts. Yes, Christmas carols and songs and some of the trimmings of Christmas can remind us of this truth. But spending four weeks reflecting and preparing for the celebration of Christmas can allow us to enter more deeply into the profound joy of the season.

As I write this we are already into the third week of Advent. In those three weeks, Connie and I have enjoyed the opportunity to pause, ponder and prepare. Advent reminds us, through its readings and emphasis on hope, peace, joy and love that no matter how much the culture around us wants to redefine these words through its hype and suggestions that these things come in neatly wrapped boxes from department stores, real love, joy, peace and hope are only found in opening ourselves up to the gift of relationship that God gives us in Christ.

So, let me encourage you to not “bypass Advent.” Savor it. Enjoy the four weeks leading up to the celebration of Jesus’ coming. Let this time bathe your soul and help you to really enter into the joy of the celebration of God’s greatest gift. Happy Advent!!

Incarnation and Wonder

Albert Einstein, one of the greatest minds of the 20th century, once said: “One who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe is as good as dead.” Perhaps we could say, “If we can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, our spirituality is as good as dead.” There is a definite link between having a sense of wonder and living the Christian faith—so much so that it’s fairly safe to say that a sense of wonder is an essential trait of a healthy, maturing spirituality. Wonder is often the prelude to as well as result of meeting God.

The Bible reminds us how wonder can lead us to a meeting with God. For example, there is the story of Moses and his encounter with God in the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-17). Moses is overwhelmed by the sight of a bush that is burning, but not consumed. As he comes closer, God speaks to him and reminds him of the sacredness of life and the holiness of God. Out of that encounter Moses is transformed and called into service. Something happens in Moses’ life. He is sent into the world to bring God’s redeeming, liberating, life-changing word to his people and through them, the world.

We might ask ourselves: what would have happened if Moses had not noticed the bush in the first place? What if he had been so preoccupied with his work of tending the sheep that he never even saw the bush? Or what if he saw it but felt he couldn’t afford to take the time to go and have a closer look? Way too busy watching those sheep! The answer is both clear and sobering: Moses would have missed an opportunity to meet God. I think there is a reminder here for all of us. An attitude that often stifles wonder is one that is too preoccupied or too busy to pay attention to things. Our sense of wonder is nourished by our periodically laying aside our preoccupations and our work in order to pay closer attention to our world and the people around us. It is when we learn to sloooow down, to open our eyes and really look and be attentive to the world around us and especially to the indications of God’s presence in the drama of life that we cultivate and experience wonder.

For me, this is one of the things that happens in the four weeks of Advent and at Christmas when I think about the mystery of the incarnation – God coming to us—God becoming “enfleshed” in the person of Jesus-- “God with us.” This is grace. This is wonder. This is the mystery of Christmas.

That is why at this time of the year, and maybe especially this time of the year, we should slow down, spend time refocusing and giving attention to the spiritual meaning of this Good News about God showing up in our world in the person of Jesus. What does it mean and what can mean for my life and my world? It is easy to relegate this sort of reflection to our Sunday morning worship experiences or to the Christmas Eve or Christmas day service. But as Herbert O’Driscoll reminds us: This paying attention should take “place in the ongoing events of my life. This task I may be doing now, this person I am with now, this joy or pain I am feeling now, this work of art I am experiencing now—each of these can become the context of the spiritual, each can become the meeting place with the extremely contemporary Christ. This is what the mystery we call the Incarnation means, that the Christ comes...in the seemingly ordinary fabric of today’s events and tasks.” (Prayers for the Breaking of Bread, p. 3)

If we can learn to pay attention to the God who not only came, but continues to come, we can cultivate a sense of awe and gratitude and are given a new vision, a new hope and strength to go back out into the world to live and witness to the ever new, ever liberating good news of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom into the world. And when that happens, the wonder of God with us is not just a Christmas experience, it can become an everyday experience of wonder.

Prayer: Lord, we admit that so often, as we make our way toward Christmas, we are distracted by the busyness that is taking place around us and the stress and chaos that is happening within us. The period of waiting that is Advent and the celebration that is Christmas often leave us without a real sense of wonder. Instead of looking for your wondrous coming to us in the events of our daily lives, we are more focused on presents and deadlines, busy schedules and all the trappings of the shopping season. We find ourselves resentful of all the pushing and shoving, and before we know it, Christmas has come and gone. We missed it. We missed the wonder of “God with us,” of the reminder that you so value us and our world that you entered it in Jesus. We are sorry and ask that you might help us to pause, focus, and pay attention to the wonder that is all around us – in the world, in the people that we meet, in the silence through which you speak peace into our hearts. Amen

“This is a difficult moment to treasure!”

Charlie Brown’s team is behind 98-0, and he is standing on the pitcher’s mound, talking to himself: “Boy, I must be stupid to stand out here and take a beating like this! The other team is laughing at me; my own team hates me; I’m a lousy pitcher; my stomach hurts. I don’t know why I play this game. I must be really stupid!”

Lucy comes over to console him: “Charlie Brown, you can’t go on like this. You’ve got to change your attitude! The years are going by, and you’re not enjoying life at all! Just remember, Charlie Brown, that the moments you spend out here on this pitcher’s mound are moments to be treasured! We’re not going to be kids forever, Charlie Brown, so treasure these moments!”

Then Charlie Brown, with determination on his face, tugs at the bill of his cap, rears back, and fires a pitch toward the plate. The batter swings and rips a scorching line-drive back through the pitcher’s box, knocking Charlie Brown off the mound. His cap goes one direction; his glove goes another. Knocked right out of his shoes and socks, he lands flat on his back. Lying there, Charlie Brown studies the situation and says: “This is a difficult moment to treasure!”

Charlie Brown expresses what we all have experienced sometime in our life, maybe many times, —that many moments in life are “difficult to treasure.” Life can be painful, and no one is exempt from the pain. And when those times come – times of such pain and anguish that they grab our hearts and squeeze them until we want to cry out or break down in tears, we are confronted with the question of faith. Do I have a faith that will sustain me? Do I have a faith that sees beyond the pain and sorrow and darkness into the light?

To have this kind of persevering faith is something that needs to be nurtured long before the storms come. It doesn’t just come. That is at the heart of the spiritual journey and why we are called to give attention to the spiritual life. In our spiritual journey, we are creating the resources that will enable us to not just cope with the daily stresses and strains and challenges of life and the potentially life-crushing moments, but will also help us to live abundantly. We can admire Charlie Brown’s persistence, but we need more than persistence, we need persevering faith. And so the question is: Am I/are you developing that faith? The care of the soul is a life-long process. Is it important to you? Do you spend time working on it? And if we are, even in those moments that we feel overwhelmed or feel completely inadequate to face the challenges, we will find that God gives us the resources to cope and even grow.

Flora Slosson Wuellner, in an article entitled “When the Stars Begin to Fall”, reminds us that “The moment of our greatest fear, the moment when the ground shakes beneath our feet, is the very moment of God’s deepest presence and power within us. It is the moment of our new beginning.” But we might not recognize that presence and the giving of that power if we haven’t been seeking to walk with God in the sunshine and the daily routines of life. One of the things that prayer does is give us perspective and awareness.

Let me invite you to take some time to stop and reflect on your faith journey. Are you building up the spiritual resources you will need when the storms come?  Would you be able to recognize God’s presence and power in the dark night of your fear or when your foundations begin to shake?

Prayer: Dear God, like Charlie Brown, we all face moments that are hard to treasure. In fact, there are some things that we encounter in life that scare us, cripple us, and leave us dazed and confused. We ask that you will help us to cultivate that depth of relationship with you that not only lives gratefully in the sunshine, but can also recognize your presence and power in the darkness. We are weak people and we know that left to ourselves, that even in spite of our courage and persistence, we will fail. We thank you that you are always present and that your grace undergirds all of life. Help us to grow in the awareness of that gift so that at all times and in all places and in all circumstances we may experience its life-enabling power. Amen.

Caring Like Jesus

Shane Claiborne is a young Christian activist whose mission is to take Jesus and the message of the gospel seriously. Shane is one of the founding members of The Simple Way,  a Christian community in Philadelphia. Their mission is: "To love God. To love people. To follow Jesus." Shane has taken the gospel beyond the streets of Philadelphia to places the slums of Calcutta and the war zones of Iraq. In his book The Irresistible Revolution  (pp. 50-51), he describes how God revealed himself through the homeless.

I saw one woman in a crowd as she struggled to get a meal from one of the late-night food vans. When we asked her if the meals were really worth the fight, she said: "Oh yes, but I don't eat them myself. I get them for another homeless lady—an elderly woman around the corner who can't fight for a meal."

      I saw a street kid get 20 bucks panhandling outside of a store and then immediately run inside to share it with all of his friends. We saw a homeless man lay a pack of cigarettes in the offering plate because it was all he had. I met a blind street musician who was viciously abused by some young guys who would mock her, curse her, and one night even sprayed Lysol in her eyes as a practical joke. As we held her that night, one of us said, "There are a lot of bad folks in the world, aren't there?"
      And she said: "Oh, but there are a lot of good ones too. And the bad ones make you, the good ones, seem even sweeter."
      We met a little 7-year-old girl who was homeless, and we asked her what she wanted to do when she grew up. She paused pensively and then replied, "I want to own a grocery store." We asked her why, and she said, "So I can give out food to all the hungry people."
      Mother Teresa used to say, "In the poor we meet Jesus in his most distressing disguises." Now I knew what she meant.

The sad, but also wondrous, thing is that sometimes those outside of the church reflect the spirit of Jesus better than those in the church. What about us and our church? Do people see Christ in us? Do we care like Jesus? Do we serve like Jesus? Do we live like Jesus? This is what it means to be a follower of Jesus. It isn’t really complicated, but it is hard and it challenges our safety and security. It reminds us how much we need and are dependent on God’s grace. It is easy to fall into the routine of only looking out for ourselves or those who are closest to us. But Jesus calls us to be revolutionary and radical and inclusive with our love. Are we?

 Reflect: Who, in the church and outside of the church, most challenges you to live like Jesus? Why? As you look at your own life, what makes it hard to live like Jesus? Would you say that you care like Jesus? Love like Jesus? In what ways do you need to depend more on God’s grace and allow that grace to melt your heart and change your life so that you are more Christ-like? Why not start today?

 Prayer: Lord, it is hard to love! In fact, sometimes, it is even hard to care. Our lives are often overloaded and focused on other things. We ask that you will teach us to see through your eyes; feel with your heart; reach out and touch with your hands. Thank you for not giving up on us. Help us not to give up on ourselves or those around us. Reveal your love through me and through my church. May all who meet us know the reality of your grace. Amen

Its Not About Me

We live in a complex world and there are many, many things that compete for our affections. Sometimes the temptation is frontal, heads on; sometimes it is much more subtle. But either way, our hearts easily become divided or filled with things and affections other than God. It is not that we don’t want to follow Christ and be a Christian, it’s just that we want to do other things as well, and God falls to second place or below. It’s a consumer world and God is just one more commodity, and he often isn’t very high on our “I want” list. Marketplace thinking permeates every aspect of our lives, having the power even to shape our commitments – our marriages, our family time, how we use our money, time and resources. It shapes our perception of what is valuable and important.     
      We live in a world that is preoccupied with SELF. It’s all about ME: my goals, my wants, my needs, my preferences. Some of us may have been socialized not to say it out loud, but it is there nonetheless. For almost all of us, it is all about taking care of number one and those who matter to me. This means security and happiness and satisfaction and joy. Or so we think and act.
       But the truth is that being busy producing, pursuing, and consuming can be a substitute for facing the deeper questions and realities of life. The testimony of Jesus and the Scriptures and countless millions of others is that, in truth, God is the only reality that ultimately matters. The real antidote for the busyness of our lives and the answer to our deepest questions has to be sought outside the consumerist world. God is the only one that can really satisfy life’s deepest hunger and desire for meaning and contentment. All the other idols of life will ultimately fail. And they fail because all of today’s false gods—pleasure, success, entertainment, popularity, wealth, etc.—bring momentary happiness but impoverish and fragment the soul.
       Early in his ministry Jesus described this focus on God when he said: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8). For Jesus, the “heart” was not simply a pulsating organ inside your chest, but the truest self. The heart is that part of you that desires, feels, grieves, hungers, delights. The heart is that place where you exercise your freedom, where you decide. The heart is the place where you meet God or avoid meeting God. Purity of heart means that our primary focus and allegiance is to be given to God and God alone. The pure of heart do not let themselves be torn apart in a thousand different directions; they are singular, they are focused on one thing. As Brother Lawrence wrote so long ago: The heart must be empty of all other things, because God will possess the heart alone; and as he cannot possess it alone without emptying it of all besides, so neither can He act there, and do in it what he pleases, unless it be left vacant to Him.
       Recognizing that it isn’t all about me, that life is about what place God has in my life and how my life is lived in relationship to God brings liberation and clarity. It breaks the bondage of consumerist thinking and opens us up to the wonder and the awesomeness of life. Purity of heart is not doing good things or avoiding sin, it is about cultivating a relationship with God that touches every area of life.
       There is a story, probably just a legend, but a powerful one, that when Thomas Aquinas, one of the most profound theologians the church has ever had, was on his deathbed, a voice was heard from somewhere above: Thomas, you have written well of me. What reward would you ask for yourself?” And Aquinas replied, “Nothing but yourself, O Lord.” The pure in heart love God and want nothing more than to grow in that loving relationship. And as they do, it is reflected in the way they treat others and the world.
       Reflect: Does God seem distant and irrelevant in your life? Have you ever prayed for God to show himself to you, to let you know that he is in fact at work in your life? When God seems absent or shrouded in mystery and we can’t seem to feel or know God’s presence, we have to stop and consider whether it is because God is absent or because our hearts are not pure. This doesn’t mean that we have to be sinless to have the blessing of God’s nearness and friendship. That is not what the Gospel says. But if we want to know God, we need to ask God to search our hearts. He knows what’s there – do we? Are we willing to have him show us what stands between us and him, whatever it may be? To those who pursue God wholeheartedly, God promises the greatest of all blessings: Himself.
      “Lord, you have examined us and you know us. You know everything we do; from far away you understand all our thoughts. You see us, whether we are working or resting; you know all our actions. Even before we speak, you already know what we will say. Examine us, O God, and know our mind; test us, and discover our thoughts. Find out if there is any evil in us and guide us in the everlasting way. Create in us a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within us.” [Psalm 139:1-4, 23-24; psalm 51:9-10 (Adapted)]

Choices

“Holiness” is not a word that many of us use very often. It has a sanctimonious sound to it and makes us uncomfortable. But the word, for the follower of Jesus, basically means becoming like Christ. And it begins in recognizing that it is achieved over time, through training, a long process of little decisions and adjustments of thought. C.S. Lewis onc...e wrote these words in Mere Christianity:

People often think of Christian morality as a kind of bargain in which God says, “If you keep a lot of rules I’ll reward you, and if you don’t I’ll do the other thing.” I don’t think that is the best way of looking at it. I would rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all of your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow-creatures, and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.
 
“Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.” This is an awesome and somewhat uncomfortable picture of what it means to be human. It means that I am responsible before God for what I do with my life and for what I am becoming. Granted, some people find themselves in extremely difficult circumstances created by the decisions of others. But even there, I am able to choose – free to choose to play the victim or the fighter. The problem is that most of the time we don’t recognize the power of our choices and the way they may be taking us. Other times, we know how serious decision-making is, but we refuse to make a choice (of course, this in itself is a choice). Karl Barth once wrote: “Better something doubtful or overbold, and therefore in need of forgiveness, than nothing at all.”
      For the believer, to become a heavenly chooser, to grow in holiness, to become more and more like Christ is something that must be learned and practiced. Worship is one of those places where we learn what it means to please God, to have the mind of Christ, to find our deepest satisfaction and meaning. Other resources are prayer, bible study, community, discussions with friends, etc. But this training in holiness is a process, a process that requires our choice and commitment. Notice that it doesn’t mean that we will be perfect or that we will never fail in this journey. Thank God for forgiveness (1 John 1:9). I think that fundamentally what God desires from us is the turning of our will in his direction. This desire to please God does please him. And if we will accept it, God places at our disposal all that we need to continue on the journey. Second Peter 1:3-4 says: “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.” Holiness, a life pleasing to God and us, is not impossible. God has made available all the resources that are necessary. But the choice is up to us.

Reflect: What kind of choices am I making and what kind of person am I becoming? Do I make a conscious effort to understand what a choice that honours God really looks like? When I look at my life, do I find that in my heart of hearts I really desire to please God in all areas of my life? If I am a follower of Christ and God has made available all the resources I really need to live a godly life, am I making use of those resources? If not, why not? If so, what progress have I seen in my life?

"All This for Me"

A few months back Connie and I and our daughter’s family went to see a circus that had come to town. It was the first live circus that two of our granddaughters had ever seen. Their reaction, especially that of the four year old, reminded me of this story.    

A few years ago, a father took his three-year-old daughter, Amy, to her first circus. Before the event her father tried his best to describe the exciting atmosphere of the big top. She asked lots of questions along the way. Would she get to pet the elephant? Could she swing on the trapeze? Would the clowns come and talk to her? The night before, she could hardly sleep. She woke her parents with: "Daddy, Daddy, come on. We can't be late."
     As they drove to the circus grounds, Amy's eyes sparkled. When they finally arrived, he had to hold her hand tightly to keep her from running ahead of him. He bought her peanuts and Cracker Jacks before taking their seats in the stands. Amy giggled as her father put the ring in the Cracker Jack box on her finger, pointing out the three rings in the center of the tent.
     "When's it going to start, Daddy? When's it going to start?" she asked again and again.
     Finally it began.
     Amy clapped her hands to the music and squealed with delight as she watched the parade of animals and performers. Her eyes darted back and forth, not knowing which of the three rings to watch.
     Suddenly, Amy became very still and quiet.
     "What is it, Amy?" my friend asked.
     "Daddy," she said, her voice filled with awe, "They did all this just for me."

This is how I often feel when I think about grace and life – “All this for me!” And, like the little girl in the story, I am filled with awe.
      It is easy to get jaded or cynical about life. And when that happens, the awe and wonder of life quickly fade.
      And we can think of many reasons to get cynical or angry or tired or frustrated or jaded with life. We don’t care for our job, our relationships are less than satisfying, finances are tight, the world seems to be going in directions that stress, worry and frighten us. There seem to be plenty of reasons to lose that awe that once gripped us. And before we know it we have slipped into a weary, hopeless routine. We have lost wonder. We have forgotten grace.
       I’m not sure, if, as adults, we will ever see the world the same way a small child sees the circus. We have seen too much, experienced too much, and maybe thought too much. But if we stop and look deep inside we discover that we really want to recover an appreciation for the awesomeness of life.
       Occasionally it slips up on us – the kindness of a stranger for no apparent reason, the sacrifice of a parent or friend, a sunset, the wonder of birth, the tender, unconditional love of a lover, etc. And when that happens, we feel something, a sense of awe and wonder at the gift of life. And maybe like the little girl we are moved to silence and realize that the giftedness of life and love are grace and grace is the awareness that “all this is for me.” It is the realization that God is the great gift-giver and that in the midst of all the things happening in my life and around me, there is the awesomeness of Grace.
       That is not something that comes easily, but there are hints and intimations of it all through life if we have eyes to see. Maybe that is why Jesus encouraged us so many times to “behold” things. Behold the lilies of the field…behold the birds of the air…behold the bread rising…behold the wine fermenting. Maybe Jesus wants us to learn how to see again with eyes that have been graced.
       And when we do, we are reminded that we are loved in our lostness, that we are cared for in our loneliness, that there is hope in our confusion. It reminds us that in the midst of all the smoke and mirrors, false illusions of this world, that the reality of God’s love and grace is a gift that God wants to give each and every one of us in Christ.

Reflect: Have I been amazed or dazzled by God lately? What can get in the way of wonder? What can you do about them? Abraham Heschel once prayed:” I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder. And you gave it to me.” Have you asked God to give you a sense of wonder, awe for the graciousness, the gift of life? Think of someone you know who has a sense of wonder. In what ways does this person give evidence of a sense of wonder?

"The Gladdest Thing of All"

In his book A Forgiving God in an Unforgiving World, Ron Lee Davis , tells the following story:
Walking by a pet shop on his way to school, a young boy stopped and stared through the window. Inside were four black puppies playing together. After school he ran home and pleaded with his mother to let him have one of the puppies. "I'll take care of it, Mom, I will. If you can just give me an advance on my allowance, I'll have enough money to buy one with my own money. Please, Mom, please."
      The mother, knowing full well the complications having a new puppy would bring to a busy household, could not resist her son. "Okay, you can get the puppy, but I will expect you to take care of it."
      " Yes, Mom, I will." Filled with excitement, the little boy ran to the pet shop to buy his new puppy.
      After determining that the boy had enough money, the pet shop owner brought him to the window to choose his puppy. After a few minutes, the young boy said, "Um. . . I'll take the little one in the corner."
      "Oh no," said the shop owner, "not that one; he's crippled. Notice how he just sits there; something is wrong with one of his legs, so he can't run and play like the rest of the puppies. Choose another one."
      Without saying a word, the boy reached down, lifted his pant leg to expose a chrome leg brace to the owner.
      "No," he said firmly, "I think I'll take the puppy in the corner.

It turned out that what disqualified the puppy from being chosen by others is what most qualified him to be chosen by the little boy. The boy saw something in the puppy that others wrote off.
      God’s grace is like that. In First Corinthians 1 the Apostle Paul has this to say about the makeup of the church – “Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 1:26-29 in Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase, The Message).
      Now, of course, we know that there were some well-educated, well-heeled, socially recognized individuals in the early church (e.g. Theophilus, Philemon, Apollos, etc). And while Paul is probably emphasizing the extraordinary action of God in choosing what many people in society think are “nobodies” and that “the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses” because he hopes to temper the arrogance and boasting of some members of the Corinthian church, Paul is also bringing out something that we see in the ministry of Jesus and throughout the New Testament and early church – God, in his mercy and love, often chooses what most people have disqualified, overlooked, undervalued and discounted. And the New Testament calls this “Grace”.
      Most people familiar with the Christian gospel know about grace, “amazing grace”. We sing about it, preach about it, read about it, talk about it, and even say that we have experienced it. But it always amazes me how few of us really believe in the unqualified grace of God. Down deep inside, we still somehow feel that, “Yes, God loves us, as long as I’m good and whole and have it relatively together.” The reality is that we will never ever be that way and God’s grace doesn’t wait until we are to find us. If the gospel is to be believed, it turns out that what would seem, to us, to disqualify you and me from knowing the love of God – the mess of our lives and our “crippledness” and brokenness—is what most qualifies us to experience the grace of God. In the midst of his own weakness and brokenness, the Apostle Paul heard God’s hope-infusing words: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect (i.e. fulfilled, accomplished) in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). And maybe that is why Paul had empathy towards others. Like the little boy in the story above, he knew what it was like to be “less than perfect.” And so Paul saw us all in the same boat – all needing God’s grace and all called to live by God’s grace.
      The question for each of us is:Can you accept and live in that Grace? “Faith,” writes Brennan Manning, “is the courage to accept acceptance.” An as author, Frederick Buechner reminds us, to believe the Gospel, to accept the life that Jesus offers, to respond to the grace of God is to “turn around and believe that the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and that to believe in the good news, to live out of it and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all.”

St. Francis -- A Holy Fool

October 4 is known on the liturgical calendar of many Christian churches as “The Feast of St. Francis”. Most people know the name of St. Francis, a thirteen century follower of Jesus, and are probably familiar with the peace prayer attributed to him that goes: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
      They may also know that that there are many, many stories and legends about Francis that relate his love for nature and his speaking, even preaching, to the animals (a sort of ecclesiastical Dr. Doolittle). And these quirks might lead some people to see Francis as a somewhat strange character. Well, they wouldn’t be too far off. Francis was strange in his day and he is even stranger in ours.
      Francis is what I would call a “Holy Fool.” Back in the fourth century, a church leader by the name of John Chrysostom said: “Only a fool would attempt to change the world with a simple message of love and peace. So we can conclude that Jesus was a fool. Only fools would agree to follow such a man…So we can conclude that all of us are fools…So let all happily admit that we are fools. Then we will happily commit ourselves to change the world.”
      Before Chrysostom, the Apostle Paul had referred to himself as “a fool for the sake of Christ” (1 Corinthians 4:10).The Gospel is so counter-cultural that it appears as foolishness to those who are caught up in a culture that is obsessed with pragmatism, efficiency, relevance, status, materialism, and respectability. For those who are committed to living out the values of the Kingdom of God and the Gospel, it must look like foolish to most of the world. It was that way in the first century and it is the same in the twenty-first no matter how much lip service we pay to Jesus and claim that we are a “Christian” nation.
      Francis was one of those followers of Jesus who really thought that Jesus wasn’t kidding when he invited people to “follow” him. Francis actually believed that Jesus really expected those who called him “Lord” to take him seriously. And so when Francis dramatically came to know the love and grace of Christ, he sought in all things to be like Jesus. The writer G.K. Chesterton called him a mirror of Christ—in the same way the moon reflects or mirrors the light of the sun. Murray Bodo has written: “It is easier to rationalize and dismiss Jesus than Francis, because Jesus, after all, is divine and so far above us. But Francis is only a human like us. What he is, we can become” (The Way of St. Francis, 1984:105-106).
      “What he is, we can become.” Really? The Apostle Paul, writing in Philippians 3, points out the importance of models in the Christian life. “Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us” (Philippians 3:17). Francis is a model of what it means to be committed to Jesus.
      Now, unlike Francis who gave up wealth and comfort and social standing to become a monk who dedicated himself to the rebuilding of Christ’s church, we may be called to live out our Gospel life in the school, home, job we are in (cf. 1 Corinthians 7:17-24). No vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. No retreating from the world to spend your life in a monastery dedicated to prayer, work and study. That is probably how it is for most of us. But all of us are called to be “holy fools” for Christ’s sake.
      Holy Fools often jar our sensibilities of respectable Christianity. They make us uncomfortable. They rattle our spiritual complacency and make us stop and take a look at how much our life really is a reflection of the Gospel. These God-passionate, Spirit-drunk, Christ-focused men and women call us to walk a path that leads from mediocrity to abundant life. And just as holy fools like Francis challenge us, we as followers of Jesus are to be “holy fools” challenging others. Many of those around us who claim to be followers of Jesus have grown numb, dull, comfortable and apathetic. The role of each believer is “to provoke one another to love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24).
      The Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard reminds us that: “The greatest danger to Christianity is…not heresies, heterodoxies, not atheists, not profane secularism—no, but the kind of orthodoxy which is cordial drivel, mediocrity served up sweet.” It is against this weakened, distorted, powerless-to-redeem understanding of the Gospel that Holy Fools are called to bear witness.
      Thank God for Francis and for all those “fools” who continually remind us that our life can and should be much more. Are you a fool for Christ’s sake?

Journeys

This morning while I was sitting out in the backyard enjoying my tea on a beautiful, breezy, but sunny, Pacific Northwest morning, I began to think about journeys. Maybe it is because I know of so many friends who are undertaking journeys: There is the friend who just lost her father to cancer; another whose mother is in hospital in a touch-and-go condi...tion; there is the relative whose daughter is expecting her first child any hour now; a friend who has moved clear across the country to pursue law school because she is passionate about justice, especially for those who are under-represented and marginalized; a granddaughter who just began pre-kindergarten; a former colleague and his new bride as they travel across Italy on their honeymoon. All of these people, and really everyone, is on a journey. Some of them are segments of the larger life journey and, although they are not of our choosing, we journey them anyway. Others are intentional, although they may be wonderful and frightening at the same time. And then there came to mind a passage from J R R Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring in which the Hobbit Frodo, who is about to undertake a journey, remembers that his uncle Bilbo composed a “walking song” to give him courage and determination when he will be very much tempted to veer off the Road on his journey.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet,
And whither then? I cannot say.

We are all on a journey, every day of our lives. It begins with birth. Sometimes the journey is easy and enjoyable, other times it is mysterious and even frightening. Sometimes it seems like it is just mundane, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to make it to the end of the day. But if we stop and look at our life as a part of an overall picture (“some larger way”), we see that each segment of the journey is part of the quest that is our life. And maybe that is why we like stories like The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars or the countless other tales that are not just a part of Western literature, but also the folk literature of the world. We are all on a journey.
      The Bible sees the Christian life as a journey as well. Beginning with the Call of Abraham and ending with the culmination in the Book of Revelation, we are on a journey. And those of us who have come to know God in Christ and are called to follow Jesus interpret our life within the larger, paradigmatic Gospel story of Jesus and discipleship. It is a story of Jesus’ call to follow him as God continues to work in our life and world inviting others to join us on this journey where we experience the abundant life that is offered in Christ.
      There are times of rest and renewal on this journey, but we don’t stop for long. Sometimes the path is straight and clear, other times the road winds through uncertain and difficult terrain. But all the while, as we mix our story with God’s larger story, we are aware that God goes with us. We may not always be immediately aware of God’s presence or God’s supporting grace, but it is there because God has promised that it will be. And many who have been on the road longer than we have, can and have testified to God’s sustaining presence.
      And so, my friend, my fellow traveler on the journey, let me wish you a safe and rich journey. Travel with your eyes and heart open to what God is doing and wants to do in your life and in your world. As Paula D’Arcy reminds us: “God comes to you disguised as your life.” And as you journey, remember to take some time to be still. It may come as you gaze into the face of a sleeping child, listen to a beautiful piece of music, take a walk on a clear, crisp morning, are held in a warm embrace, or just sit to reflect on some segment of your life’s journey. The Psalmist reminds us to “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). In this stillness, in the midst of our journey, we meet the mystery of God. When we are still, we cast our trust on God, and in that stillness God’s healing power ministers to us and helps us see our journey a bit clearer.

Love is Our Measure

The other morning I was struck again by a passage from one of Thomas Merton’s journals. What hit me was the forthrightness of the language and how shocking it seems in our day. Of course, he isn’t saying anything that isn’t already there in the teachings of Jesus (Luke 12:13-21; Matthew 6:33; Luke 14:25-33), but in our North American, sanitized, domesticated, culturally-influenced understanding of the Gospel, it leaves one shaking the head and repeating over and over again: “It’s not possible. It’s too hard. It can’t be right”   
     Here is what Merton wrote on September 3, 1941: "The measure of our identity, of our being (the two are the same), is the amount of our love for God. The more we love earthly things, reputation, importance, pleasures, ease, and success, the less we love God. Our identity is dissipated among things that have no value, and we are drowned and die in trying to live in the material things we would like to possess, or in the projects we would like to complete to objectify the work of our own wills. Then, when we come to die, we find we have squandered all our love (that is, our being) on things of nothingness, and that we are nothing, we are death. But then, most of all, in the terrifying light of pure Being and perfect Love, we see the hatefulness of nothingness, of death. But if we have loved Him, and lost ourselves in Him, we find ourselves in Him, and live forever in joy.
      But tribulation detaches us from the things of nothingness in which we spend ourselves and die. Therefore, tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.
      Let me then withdraw all my love from scattered, vain things—the desire to be read and praised as a writer, or to be a successful teacher, praised by my students, or to live in ease in some beautiful place—and place it all in Thee, where it will take root and live, instead of being spent in barrenness.
      My life is measured by my love of God, and that, in turn, is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation." (Thomas Merton, Run to the Mountain: Volume One, 1939-1941 [entry for September 3, 1941])

The passage begins and ends with “love for/of God” and in between are words and images that describe what happens when we forget that primary call – “our identity is dissipated,” “we are drowned and die,” “squandered,” “nothingness,” “tribulation,” “barrenness”. Not the kind of things we like to hear or associate with our lives. Now, it is easy to write off Merton as a fanatical, out-of-touch monk; a kill-joy. But the reality is that Merton was very much involved in life. He loved life and people and to laugh. He wasn’t a somber, cheerless stoic. His pictures, poetry, teaching and writings show that he found pleasure in the world. But his life was also a struggle. He struggled most of his life with maintaining that focus on love for God above everything else. He knew that it was that center which gives focus to life and helps us to see our lives in a greater, more fuller, richer context than simply pursuing the “American dream” or following the siren call of consumerism or unfettered capitalism or passively accepting our society’s often twisted understandings of success.

      Merton, like the Christ he loved and followed, wants us to see our lives in the context of our inevitable end – death and its judgment on the totality of our life. And it is here that he found something positive in “tribulation” – difficulties, trials, suffering, pain. Like C.S. Lewis who once wrote: “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world”, Merton paradoxically reminds us that pain/tribulation reminds us of our humanity, our finitude, our need for priorities in life. In that sense, “tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.” And the “life” he is referring to here is abundant life, life with an eternal meaning/being.

      Now I think that that is an important lesson to learn, but it is hard. It is so counter-cultural. But do we really want anything else? Richard Rohr quotes the poet Rainer Maria Rilke:”When we are victorious over small things, it leaves us feeling small.” In other words, we need a worthy opponent, challenging goals, to realize our identity, our being, our destiny and purpose. Our life is measured by our love for God. And so we push on, trying to understand the will of God for our lives, for the society in which we live, and for the world.

      And Merton reminds us, as did Jesus and John and James (Mark 12:28-34; Matthew 25:31-46;1 John 4:7-21; James 2:1-13), that my love for God “is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation.” In other words, one measure of our growth in our relationship with God is the tangible sharing in the humanity of those around us, especially their pain. Here is a challenge to expand our circles of concern and to realize that our relationship with God, our spirituality, is always more than simply me and God together on the journey.

Eyes Wide Open

I am always surprised by the ways God shows up or makes himself known or tries to reveal something to me. I am also just as surprised at how thick I can be at missing the message.
      This morning during my devotional time I was reading a passage from one of Thomas Merton’s journals. The piece was written in September 1958 and reflects one of the themes that keeps coming through Merton’s works – the search for contentment. He writes: “When you accept what you have, you see all you have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed. I desire other things because I fear to be content with what I have—I fear it is inglorious. In the last few days I have seen what matters is to be humble enough to admit I am content with just this. Leave the rest to God.”
      As I reflected on Merton’s words I began to think about other things that I have been reading recently and over and over again they all seem to have been dealing with the theme of contentment. Of course, this isn’t a new issue for me. But just when I think I have it settled and I am on the right road, I discover that I have lost my way, again.
      I guess I should take some comfort from the fact that the Apostle Paul wrote that he had “learned to be content” (Philippians 4:11). And from reading his letters, I get the impression that it wasn’t an easy lesson for Paul. It never is. In the previous chapter (Philippians 3) Paul talks about pressing on, straining forward. It sounds like Paul, like the rest of us, realized that contentment doesn’t simply happen. It does require something of us. But Paul is quick to make clear that his sufficiency/contentment came not from external resources or achievements or any innate ability, but grew out of his deepening relationship with Christ. And that is true for all of us.
      Richard Rohr in his recent book, Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, describes us well: “We are more struggling to survive than thrive, more just “getting through” or trying to get to the top than finding what is really at the top or was already at the bottom.” And then he cites Merton: “Thomas Merton, the American monk, pointed out that we may spend our whole life climbing the ladder of success, only to find when we get to the top that our ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.” I often feel that way when it comes to the search for contentment/satisfaction/joy.
      And that is why Thomas Merton’s words written almost fifty years ago are like a slap in the face and bring me up short. They remind me that one of the ways, perhaps the chief way, that God teaches me contentment is to learn to start with the givenness/giftedness of life. “When you accept what you have, you see all you have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed….” That is not always easy, especially if we feel that life has dealt us a bad hand or we are anxious and worried over what is ahead. But that is precisely what Merton is trying to get us to see, that learning to rest in the preciousness of the moment and to give thanks for what is, helps us to learn contentment. Of course, Merton isn’t talking about simply accepting injustice or abuse or resting in the status quo, especially if that is a condition that is dehumanizing like poverty. His own life and writings reflect that.
      But Merton is reminding us that, in our desire for more or our haste to keep pace with our contemporaries or our general dissatisfaction with what we don’t have in life, we miss out on much of the wonder and awesomeness of life. Learning to be humble and content with the everyday wonders of life and leaving the rest to God is not a flight from engagement in and with the world, but is a way of resting in God as we make our way through the world, living as Kingdom citizens and seeking to understand and do the will of God along the way.
      So let me offer these guidelines. The next time you find yourself discontented: 1) Focus: Paul wrote: “For me to live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21; cf. Galatians 2:20). Recognize that in Christ you have all that is essentially needed for your happiness and contentment (Ephesians Ephesians 1:3; 3:14-21; 2 Peter 1:3-15). But your relationship with Christ can’t be an addendum to your life, a side commitment, but needs to be the focus of your life; 2) Cultivate Gratitude: Sometimes that is hard because we are bitter or distracted, but stop and reflect on the things that really are precious to you. If you are having a hard time thinking of them, ask someone you love to help you; 3) Quit Comparing: If your happiness is compared to others or to what others have, it is hard to be content. The reality is that there will always be people who are richer, prettier, more influential, more dynamic, etc. God has created you as a unique human being. God does not evaluate you in comparison to anyone else. Accept who you are and make the most out of the person God desires for you to be; and 4) Live With Your Eyes And Heart Open, that is, Cultivate Awareness. David Stendl-Rast has written: “Even the predictable turns into surprise the moment we stop taking it for granted.” He goes on to say in his book Gratefulness that one of the problems we face is that we leave the house each day with a mental list of what we will be grateful for in the day ahead. He suggests instead, throw away the list and be grateful for the many gifts that have been missing in life. Be awake, be alert to the presence of God in your life and world and open to the daily gifts you are given.
      If you can do learn to do that, than, like Merton, you will realize that what you “have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed” and you can “leave the rest to God.”

Contentment

There is a Native American story entitled “The Two Wolves.” In the story, an old Cherokee man tells his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said: “My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all. One wolf is “Evil.” It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, and superiority. The other wolf is “Good.” It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, faith…and contentment.”
      The grandson was amazed at this. You could see it in his face. You could also see that he was puzzling over what he had just been told. Finally, he could no longer restrain himself, he asked: “Which wolf wins?”
      The old grandfather smiled slightly and softly replied: “The one you feed.”
And that is so true, isn’t it. We are all faced with choices and the response is up to us. We are faced with news from the doctor that says our cholesterol level is too high and we need to make some choices about diet, exercise and medicine. Our job is becoming very demanding of our time and energy. We know that we are burning the candle at both ends and that if something doesn’t change, the present situation can’t go on. What are we going to do? We have to make a decision.
      This is true when it comes to the cultivation of character and habits, especially spiritual habits. What are we going to feed? What are we going to nurture?
      And this seems to be particularly true when it comes to that most elusive, but sought after, quality – contentment.
      Many of us are trying to cultivate contentment/peace/satisfaction/joy by going along with the crowd, buying into one of the many popular books or trends or voices that promise contentment. Usually they are things like: buy me, use me, own me, pursue this, etc. etc. But at the end of the day, we find ourselves either less satisfied or simply too tired from the pursuit. And contentment is nowhere to be to be found.
      If Jesus is to be believed that contentment is found in a relationship, a coming to him and learning from him (Matthew 11:28-30; John 10:10), then cultivating, feeding, this relationship with Jesus is what we are to be focused on. And what does Jesus says to us? He reminds us that contentment is not comfort or wealth or popularity, or satisfaction with our own accomplishments, but a learned conviction that grows out of a relationship with him about goodness, faithfulness and the sufficiency of God to meet the deepest needs of our heart. It is a contentment that is not subject to the circumstances in which we find ourselves; it is a contentment that is not focused on creating goals and objectives to obtain what we think will make us happy. As the psychologist and writer on the spiritual life Robert Wicks reminds us: “Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of what you already have” (Streams of Contentment, p. 93). And this something is the giftedness of life and the giftedness of life in Christ.
      At the heart of contentment is learning to be grateful and to make reflection on that gratitude a daily part of life. God has extended mercy and grace to all and that grace is enough. If I can remember that and be grateful for it, it will go a long way toward making me know the contentment that God can give. It is learning to feed that gratitude and awareness of God’s gift of life and life in Christ that brings contentment. It is not out in the future or in some imagined or desired circumstances, but here and now where I find myself, that I can also find contentment. It will require a reorientation of my thinking and focusing. And if I am really wanting contentment, it will be worth it and I will find that what I feed wins.

Give Me Grace to Follow

This morning in my devotions I was brought back to an old hymn I hadn’t seen in a while. It was written in the 19th century by a British clergyman, John E. Bode. The hymn “O Jesus, I Have Promised” is one that used to be sung a great deal in the Baptist churches of my youth. But I would venture to guess that many Christians today have never heard of it. And while I never really liked the traditional tune used with it because I found it slow and almost dirge-like, as I look beyond the music and the 19th century English, I find myself resonating with the images and prayer of this old hymn.      
       It is a hymn that takes the call to discipleship and the decision to follow Jesus seriously; and equally seriously it recognizes the struggles and temptations that beset the professed follower of Jesus. It recognizes that the decision to follow Jesus begins with a promise, an open-ended promise to “serve…to the end.” The discipleship journey can be a challenging and difficult one and there will always be a temptation to wander or shrink back from these challenges and the demands of following Christ. The hymn writer knows that following Jesus isn’t a cake walk, there are real enemies out there and inside us that contrive to subvert us and make us fail. It is especially those inner foes, the obsessions and infatuations and self-centered desires that can really sidetrack us and trip us up. When faced with these realities, we recognize that if our following Jesus is going to mean anything significant we need the nearness of Christ and to be attentive to his voice as he speaks above “the passion, the murmurs of self will.” We need grace to follow. We need God’s guidance, call, strength, and the awareness of his presence if we are going to stay focused on the goal of becoming like Christ. And while Jesus is described as Master, Guide, Guardian, Savior, it is the word “friend” that is used in this hymn more than any other description of who Jesus is and what he does. Maybe it is the realization that, like a good friend, Jesus is with us on the journey, he doesn’t desert us.
      David Rensberger, a modern day follower of Jesus, writing in the journal Weavings (Volume XXV, Number 4, p. 46) on the topic of commitment, reminds us: “Make a commitment, Jesus says, and you will find that God is also committed to you and will not let you lack what you require to carry out your commitment. Step forward without knowing where the resources will come from, without having all your birds of the air in a row, and the resources will find you.”
      Do we believe that? If we have heard the invitation of Jesus to “come and follow me” and have responded with a promise to follow, we are on a journey. We have been invited to make that journey in the company of Jesus who does indeed go before us, so that we can follow in his footsteps. The journey is not always easy and it isn’t always a straight one, but Jesus walks with us and gives us the resources we need to be faithful and complete the journey. His request? Stick close.

 Some things to reflect on:

1. As you reflect on the hymn below, think about its imagery. What images speak to you? Why? To what do they correspond in your own life? Can you feel the hymn writer’s desire? Can you sense his longing?
2. Of the terms “Master,” “Guide,” “Guardian,” “Savior,” and “Friend”, which one speaks more to you and your situation at this moment? Why?
3. What foes, around and within you, tempt you and keep you from fulfilling your promise to follow Jesus? How can the friendship and companionship of Jesus as he journeys with you help you, reassure you?


“O Jesus, I Have Promised”

O Jesus, I have promised to serve Thee to the end;
Be Thou forever near me, my Master and my Friend;
I shall not fear the battle if Thou art by my side,
Nor wander from the pathway if Thou wilt be my Guide.

O let me feel Thee near me! The world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle, the tempting sounds I hear;
My foes are ever near me, around me and within;
But Jesus, draw Thou nearer, and shield my soul from sin.

O let me hear Thee speaking in accents clear and still,
Above the storms of passion, the murmurs of self will.
O speak to reassure me, to hasten or control;
O speak, and make me listen, Thou Guardian of my soul.

O Jesus, Thou hast promised to all who follow Thee
That where Thou art in glory there shall Thy servant be.
And Jesus, I have promised to serve Thee to the end;
O give me grace to follow, my Master and my Friend.

O let me see Thy footprints, and in them plant mine own;
My hope to follow duly is in Thy strength alone.
O guide me, call me, draw me, uphold me to the end;
And then in Heaven receive me, my Savior and my Friend

Reflecting on the Day

Whenever I travel I check in with my wife. It is good to hear her voice or read her email. It keeps me connected to the one I love. I would also like to think that it contributes to the health and growth of our relationship.
      In the same way we need to check in regularly, actually daily, with God if our relationship is going to grow and remain a healthy one. For many, this happens with their daily devotional time or other times of prayer or reflection. Over the years one of the most common disciplines has been the Examen or Examination of Consciousness. It is pausing at the end of the day to reflect on the events of the day in the presence of God.
      One of the chief advocates of this spiritual health tool was Ignatius of Loyola. He encouraged all those who want to grow in their relationship with God and to strengthen their spiritual life to end the day with this awareness exercise. Basically, it means that at the end of the day, this exercise can provide an intentional time to reflect on the day, to give thanks for what may not have been noticed as gift, and to make amends for failures, and to rest, ready to resume the spiritual journey with the new day. It doesn’t have to be long, just intentional.
      Marian Cowan, in her book Companions in Grace, suggests that there are five statements that can guide us as we reflect on our day. They are the same statements/questions often used in a good human relationship: “Thank you,” “Help me,””I love you,” “Forgive me,” and “Be with me.”
      You can see how these five statements can help us as we exam our day. Thank you – As we look back on our day, we discover things that were sheer gift – an email or a letter from a close friend, health, a beautiful sunrise or sunset, a warm or cool day, a relaxing meal with family or friends. It is not enough to say a general “Thank you, God”. It is a time to pause over the particular gifts of the day and offer a heartfelt “Thank You, God for this and that….” Help me – What are your needs? What is it that you desire and need to ask God for? Maybe it is for the certitude that you are loved and a child of God? Maybe it is for growth in your spiritual life? Maybe it is for the healing of memories or a relationship? We name our need as we are aware of it and bring it to God. I love you – How has God been trying to show his love to you throughout the day? If grace is true and God is love, God’s love is always moving out towards us although we don’t always get it. We are too busy, too worried, too preoccupied, too … to notice the evidences of God’s love which are lavished on us each and every day. This is often true in our human relationships as well. Because we are so self-focused, we fail to see the overtures of love and care that come to us from the people around us. But when we are aware of them our response to these offers and expressions of love is love in return. It is expressed in words and actions. Pausing at the end of the day to reflect on God’s love for us and our expression of love for God and also for those around us can bring peace and a deep sense of joy. It can not only help us to sleep but also prepare us to be more aware of the love we are receiving and should be giving as we await the gift of another day. Forgive me – If Jesus were to come to you as you are reflecting on your day and ask you: “For what do you want forgiveness and healing?” what would say? What words, events, actions, thoughts of the day would come to mind? Being impatient? A curt word with a family member or a work colleague? Not bothering to spend time with someone you know is hurting or in need? Wasting time? Spending too much? Eating or drinking too much? As we become aware, we ask for forgiveness and know that God, who loves us and “delights in showing mercy” (Micah 7:18), forgives. Knowing that we are forgiven can also lead us to reflect on ways of making amends for our actions and being more patient and loving with others. Be with me –As we end our time of reflection we ask for the gifts and grace needed in the hours and days to come. In our request for forgiveness, awareness of God’s love, and acknowledgment of our need for healing and wholeness we recognize that we also need God’s presence for the journey. The one who promised that he would never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5; Joshua 1:5) is faithful and we can rest in that faithfulness knowing that the challenges and adventures of the new day are not going to catch God unaware. And because God is with us, we can ask for the patience, the love, the awareness, the grace we need for the new day.
      If you haven’t developed the discipline of ending your day with a period of reflection on your day’s journey, may God give you the grace and desire for such a time. It doesn’t have to be long, just intentional.

Showing Up

The spiritual director and pastoral psychologist William Barry relates a story about his dying mother. He says: “When my mother was dying of cancer, she said that she prayed every night that God would take her in her sleep. I asked her what God was like, and she answered, “He’s a lot better than he’s made out to be” (God and You: Prayer as a Personal Relationship, p.16).
      We can get an idea of who God is from reading, discussions, sermons, TV evangelists, or people who use God to justify their own personal cause. But to really know God, you need to make time to cultivate a relationship and that means prayer is a, if not, the key ingredient. Getting to know God is like getting to know another person. You have to spend meaningful time in their presence to really get to know them. In that conscious relationship there is sharing, especially if that relationship is going to be a deep relationship. I’m pretty sure that all of us have had the experience of being with someone and thinking that we were relating only to realize that the other person was really somewhere else. The sharing, such as it was, was superficial.
      Barry’s mother’s comment about what God is like is one that grew out of a lifetime of having spent time with God in prayer. It was a sharing of relationship.
      Perhaps another way to put it is to say that it is a sharing of centers. A center is what anchors our lives, that gives stability to our being. What is it that keeps you going? What is it that gives your life meaning? In the midst of this busy, driven world, often chaotic world, how do you keep your balance? What helps you live with integrity in the midst of the confusion and competing siren calls of the world? Whatever it is, it not only affects your understanding of who you are, but also affects your relationship with others, the natural world, and with God.
      The tragedy, of course, is that many people don’t really have a clear center. It is undefined, ill-formed, lacking integrity, contentment and peace. And so the chaos within is made worse by the chaos without. And this affects all areas of life and all our relationships.
      In one translation of Psalm 131:2, we read: “Enough for me to keep my soul tranquil and quiet like a child in its mother’s arms, as content as a child that has been weaned.” Reflect on that image – a maturing, growing child resting in the arms of its mother. The Psalmist has found peace and rest. He has found his center. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that: “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength” (Isaiah 30:15).
      In both of these passages we are reminded that when our center finds its center in God there is a harmony to life. The parts of one’s life seem to fit together like the pieces of a puzzle, revealing a wholeness and a picture that is the heart of each person. That doesn’t mean that there are no more struggles or painful situations with which we need to cope, but that underneath it all and at the center there is a quality of life and relationship that says “all will be well.”
      Cultivating that center is a process and it doesn’t simply happen overnight. But it does begin with “showing up”, that is, making time to be present with God who is at the center of all LIFE. Just as we give time to any relationship that is important to us, we give time to this most important and critical of relationships. It will mean a daily and regular time spent in quality prayer. That, of course, is the goal. But the thing about our gracious God is that God is there whenever we show up. But pretty soon, we realize that it isn’t enough to make time for God when we are desperate or needy or have nothing else better to do. As we cultivate that relationship with God and that relationship becomes the center of our life and begins to give order and contentment and peace and stability to every area of life, we will do more than “just show up”. We’ll realize that when we make regular time for God, that that loving use of time is a sign of the level of our centeredness – a centeredness that shapes our lives.
      “Come,” my heart says, “Seek his face.” Your face, Lord, do I seek” (Psalm 27;8)

"For A Child of God"

Jessica Powers was a diminutive, unassuming Catholic nun who wrote some of the most contemplative and moving spiritual poetry of the 20th century. As I read her poem below – “For A Child of God”, I was reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul: “Don’t you realize that you are God’s temple and the Spirit of God is living in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).
      Paul reminds us, and we need reminding, that one of the real mysteries of the Christian life is that God dwells deep within us, as in a tabernacle, a temple, a sacred place in the depths of our being. While all human beings possess the image of God and are due the respect and dignity that calls forth, those who have come to know God in Christ and experienced the transforming power of God, have become “the temple of the living God” (2 Corinthians 6:16). It is a powerful and intimate image. It means that forever, at every moment, God is at work in us, loving us, healing us, freeing us, inviting us into incredible intimacy. But for the most part, we are ignorant of what is taking place. Or if we try and grasp the theological (Oh, there is that word again!) truth of this divine promise, we find ourselves way out of our depth in trying to understand and express it. Maybe that is why the mystics (those who have been most keenly aware of the intimate dwelling of God within) have almost always reverted to poetry.
      In the poem below there are some powerful images. But the one that immediately catches my eye is the line: “None can assail you in that place save your own evil, routing grace.” It is a reminder that this intimacy of our relationship with God is a matter of grace, but so often we, not the external circumstances that surround us, not the dark forces of a fallen world, but our own doubt and forgetfulness, are there “routing grace”. And because we forget, and because we don’t make time to cultivate this intimacy we find ourselves confused and de-centered and desperately looking for someone or something thing that will fill this deep void which we have created in our souls.
      But the poem ends on a word of hope: “But there are days when watching eyes could guess that you hold Paradise. Sometimes the shining overflows and everyone around you knows.” Beautiful words. “But there are days….” This intimacy with God, this tabernacle within the soul, overflows in all its peace and goodness and love and people know that God is present.

“Child, has no one ever told you God is in your soul?”

======

The saints and mystics
had a name
for that deep
inwardness of flame,
the height or depth
or ground or goal
Which is God’s dwelling in the soul?

Heaven--
because God is there.

All day and when
you wake at night
think of that place
of living light,
yours and within you
and aglow
where only God
and you can go.

None can assail you
in that place
save your own evil,
routing grace.
Not even angels
see or hear,
nor the dark spirits
prowling near.

But there are days
when watching eyes
could guess that you
hold Paradise.
Sometimes the shining
overflows
and everyone
around you knows.

Child, has no one ever told you
God is in your soul?

Rust on the Soul

     A few years back while doing some teaching in the Republic of Georgia I was riding in a car with a friend. I was sitting in the passenger seat and felt something under the throw rug under my feet. Lifting it up I discovered a thin board covering a hole in the floor that had been eaten away by rust. The only thing keeping me from the road was a board and a rug.
      Rust -- corrosion that weakens the structure and integrity of the metal. Rust eats away, causing cracks that, if not treated, not only weaken a structure, but can destroy it.
      Now, there are ways to avoid rust and corrosion. Treating the metal and making sure that it stays clean, free of anything that will cause it to oxidize, can protect the metal. But this takes intentionality and care.
      In a similar way there can be “rust” on the soul. Compromise and half-hearted devotion can erode and eat away at that center of our life that is built around a relationship with God. Like rust, our half-hearted “yeses” to God weaken the fiber of our lives. And the real danger is that often we notice the effect only after much time has passed. Our compromises and half-measures are so plausible, so reasonable, that we don’t appreciate how they are negatively impacting our lives. They seem to make a lot of sense. In fact, we get pretty good at rationalizing and can even rationalize with great conviction. After all, we have to live in the real world. Our consumer-driven, efficiency-minded, success and result-oriented culture places pretty high demands on us. At least, so we rationalize. But deep in our hearts we know that something is not right.
      In the Book of Revelation, God says to the Church of Laodicea: “I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth” (Revelation 2:15-16). This vivid picture is a striking warning about deceiving ourselves. It a warning about the danger of saying an enthusiastic “yes” to God’s forgiveness and salvation, but only a qualified “yes” to the daily obedience that life requires.
      And while this self-deception and half-heartedness is a danger for all of us, it is especially true for those in leadership positions. There is a Hasidic story in which Rabbi Jizchak Meir said: “When one assumes a position of leadership, many things are required: yeshiva, an office, a desk, chairs, an administrator, a janitor, etc. And then comes the evil enemy and takes away the innermost point, but all the rest remains as it was and the wheel keeps turning, only the inner point fails.” The inner point is the relationship with God. The story reminds us that it is possible to have a thriving, prestigious, even well-thought of organization without the inner point. “Success” in the world’s sense of the term, is no evidence of faithfulness and approval by God. The tragedy in all this is that with the inner point, the center, the point of reference, gone, we are left spinning our wheels and have lost the meaning of our existence and the purpose of our activities. We can all point to colleges and universities that began as Christian institutions with strong convictions and commitment to the glory of God, only to abandon that allegiance along the way. They may still be famous, prestigious, lucrative institutions, but they have lost their inner point. It can happen to churches, mission organizations, para-church organizations, and the list goes on. And as tragic as that is, it is rust on the individual soul, yours and mine, that is the most disastrous.
      The Bible reminds us over and over again that in life there is always a danger of mistaken priorities. The first and greatest commandment remains: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:4-5; cf. Mark 12:30-31). To love God is to yearn for, desire, hope for, pray for, work for, strive for that which glorifies God and puts God in God’s place in our lives. To love others as we love ourselves is to desire and work for that which God desires for them. Jesus lived and proclaimed this and expects his followers to do the same. It is a call to a life of radical focus.
      We have heard this before. It was, or should have been, what we were told when we were invited to follow Jesus. Some of those who begin to live their lives this way can, after a while, lose their radical focus on God. Something or someone else slips into the center, perhaps something that began as a service to God and the church. But eventually this something becomes more important than God himself. Basically, a pious idol has set itself up in our life, perhaps without our even noticing it. We still pray, we still serve, we still read our Bible, but, as we look at our prayers, it seems that they are focused on asking God to bless our most important concern (my relationships, my desires, my ministry, my church, etc). Serving God has imperceptibly and unconsciously turned into making use of God. Rust begins to corrode our soul.
      For others, their faith has lost that radical orientation. They still profess faith in God and would probably identify themselves as a follower of Jesus, but the zeal and the passion are gone. So are those times of prayer and bible study. God sometimes feels close, especially at camp or a retreat or when the worship is really “happening.” But they have become consumers of religion rather than cultivators of the spiritual life.
      Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the center, the inner point, that commitment to knowing and doing the will of God, loses its place and something else becomes the center. And the peace and sense of mission and joy no longer seem to be there. The real tragedy is that we often don’t realize the true state until it is almost too late. I say “almost” because it doesn’t have to end in disaster. While we may need others to help us see the deterioration in our spiritual life, it is possible to arrest the decay and weakening of our relationship with God and the dislocation of our spiritual center. A good way to come to self-knowledge and renewal is to get back to basics by focusing on Christ and especially the cross. Jesus reminds us that we are loved and the object of God’s grace and that no matter how far we have wandered or the degree of decay or breakdown in our relationship with God, we can begin again. Acknowledgement, repentance, forgiveness and a new start – all of this is grace.
      So, what about you? Is there rust on your soul? What are you going to do about it?

The Love of God

A number of things (an email, a conversation, a song) came together the other day to set me thinking about the love of God, both in the sense of God’s love for us and our love for God. But it was the song, Charles Wesley’s “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling” that really got me thinking about love.
      Now, at the risk of having some of my friends come down on me, I have to say that while I like many contemporary worship songs, especially for their vibrant, upbeat music and simple, personal lyrics, and their commitment to connect and contextualize the faith for a new generation, I have a real affection for the hymns of the 18th century hymn writer Charles Wesley. And one of the concerns I have for those whose worship experience is only or primarily nurtured on contemporary worship songs and an almost complete absence of some of the great hymns of the church is that they miss out on some profound and powerful theology. I know it is requires a stretch and maybe even some interpretation to get passed the arcane language of some of these hymns, but their deep message is usually worth it. Again, I know that many people shrink from that word “theology”, but they shouldn’t because theology is inevitable. “Theology” is talking about God and the way God has revealed himself in Christ for the transformation of our lives and our world. “Theology” is the articulation of our experience with God. The only real question is whether or not the theology reflected in our songs (and sermons and worship as a whole) is good, robust, God-honoring or is it flawed, or weak or woefully myopic?
      And while I struggle with John Zundel’s tune that is often used, I never ceased to be amazed at the words of “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.” Its images of God’s love shown in Christ are powerful and reveal a compassionate, pure and unbounded, transforming and abiding love. It is a love that can give peace to a troubled heart, liberate a bound spirit, and empower us for life in a challenging world.
      It is no secret that our lives need love just as much as our bodies need air, water and food. Only when that love touches us and teaches us how to love can our loneliness be transformed into intimacy, fear into courage and anxiety into restful hope. And while genuine, self-giving, other-affirming love is possible in human love it has its limits. Whether those limits are determined by our environment, our sets of connections, or our own imperfect nature, human love is limited.
      God’s love is different from all human love. Human love is always limited and conditional even in the best of relationships. But God’s love is radically different. God’s love is based on nothing that we have or have done or can do. And while that sometimes makes me uncomfortable because as a driven, goal-oriented, achievement-based person I would like to believe that God loves me because I am so dedicated and unselfish or because of my personality or special qualities, the truth is that God’s love isn’t based on any of that. God’s love is based on nothing except God’s nature. You and I can do nothing, absolutely nothing to earn the love of God. It was there before we existed.
      And a great thing about this love which God offers to us is that it bottomless as well as unconditional. No matter how deeply we try to plumb it’s depth or are immersed in God’s love, we never reach the bottom, since that doesn’t exist. God loves unconditionally, completely and unreservedly because God is love. We can love and we do love, but God IS love.
      To sin is to refuse God’s love. When we sin – that is, ignore or reject God’s will and decide to go it on our own -- God doesn’t cease to love us. God doesn’t abandon us. God’s love remains. It is like the father’s love in Jesus’ story of the wayward child who finally returns to his father (Luke 15:11-32), except raised to an infinite degree. When the son returns, he finds the father waiting. In the same way, God waits, God hopes, God’s love remains. Only our ultimate rejection of that love in death severs that love, but only on our side. God’s love continues. It is a pained loved, a scorned love, but a constant love. It is a love that respects, however painful it may be, the decision to refuse to live in the love of God.
      It is this love, a love that excels all earthly love that seeks to embrace me and every person on this planet. To know that love, to live in that love, however imperfectly, is to know joy. It is a reminder that we are loved by God and because we are loved, we matter.
      I like a prayer by the spiritual writer Macrina Wiederkehr. She understands how difficult it is for some of us to accept that we are loved with the divine love that excels all other loves and so she prays: “O God, help me to believe the truth about myself, no matter how beautiful.” How about you?

 Love divine, all loves excelling,
joy of heaven, to earth come down;
fix in us thy humble dwelling;
all thy faithful mercies crown!
Jesus thou art all compassion,
pure, unbounded love thou art;
visit us with thy salvation;
enter every trembling heart.

Breathe, O breathe thy loving Spirit
into every troubled breast!
Let us all in thee inherit;
let us find that second rest.
Take away our bent to sinning;
Alpha and Omega be;
end of faith, as its beginning,
set our hearts at liberty.

Come, Almighty to deliver,
let us all thy life receive;
suddenly return and never,
nevermore thy temples leave.
Thee we would be always blessing,
serve thee as thy hosts above,
pray and praise thee without ceasing,
glory in thy perfect love.

Finish, then, thy new creation;
pure and spotless let us be.
Let us see thy great salvation
perfectly restored in thee;
changed from glory into glory,
till in heaven we take our place,
till we cast our crowns before thee,
lost in wonder, love, and praise.