dedicated to my gay friends...
I've not been here for quite a while. Over the last couple of years, my words have mostly been offered aloud in the intimacy of church community or during sessions of spiritual direction and prayer rather than to the blogging world. But yesterday, Good Friday, I intentionally made myself absent from all such services. I went to the church in the quiet of its preparations and prayed a blessing for all those who would attend those services, but I did not attend them myself. I gazed appreciatively at the beautiful displays, stations to commemorate the life of and death of Christ, but I slipped out quietly before attendees began arriving.
My heart was deeply troubled. I found myself echoing Job when he cried out, "O that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, that thou wouldst keep me secret until thy wrath be past, that thou wouldst appoint me a set time and remember me!" (Job 14:13)
I'd echo Job, but change one word. "O that thou wouldst hide me in the grace,"...But I see this is not the way things are structured in much of church life--not for you, and if I take an honest assessment, not for me either.
I know that the church is infamous for making the Bible "say things" through its cut-and-paste tactics
--The Lord is my Shepherd. (Psalm 23:1) Every shepherd is an abomination. (Gen.46:34.)--
I know the power of condemnation is drawn more from what is highlighted than what is left in the dark, (The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want...And Every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians.)
But, I also know there are passages that read condemnation when taken at face value. I know your hearts ache over how to hold those passages in holy reverence. My heart does, too.
If they say your sin is an abomination with a capital A, they should say the same of mine.
You see, I wear the capital A of adultery.
Every day.
I am a woman divorced and remarried.
What the church should quote to me is Matt 19:9: "Whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery: and whoso marrieth her which is put away doth commit adultery."
(I know you could squint and nit-pick over allowances, like "I'm a woman, and this verse applies to men, etc." But all such allowances seem to slap the spirit of the verse in the face. At that point, arguments are not made for Biblical law, but for justifying allowances.)
The church should tell me--of my 22-year, deeply committed marriage (as it tells you of yours)--that it must end and the children being raised in this home be disregarded for any recognition as part of a family.
The church should tell me I must do this before I am serious enough about being sinless, serious enough to join the ranks of those fit for holy corporate worship.
But most of the Church doesn't tell me that, and frankly, I'm in awe of the fact that you don't hold me up as a scapegoat. I'm amazed you don't point to me in confusion as people of faith say their commitment to Biblical law is the primary way they express their love to God, and thus they feel obliged to consider you second-class citizens in the kingdom. I do not doubt their sincerity, but I am surprised you don't highlight this glaring discrepancy.
Why don't you ask why? "Why is she 'ok' for faith-based intimacy and respect, and I'm not?"
You could ask this--the capital A thing, you know--but you don't. So I ask it.
I step out of the sanctuary, and I ask why.
I allow myself to feel deeply this alienation. I explore this aching mystery of living inside a human love that grows a family and seems to honor the defining characteristics of love--apart from one thing. (For you, the "one thing" is your capacity for literal physical reproduction as that love's expression into the future; for me, the "one thing" is that I must look into the past and see a sanctioned-by-the-church marriage that ended and that I replaced with another love that I refuse to set aside. Never mind that the church sanctioned it, too. That must have happened on a day when these things didn't matter so much.)
I go to God in my office now. I go to God looking out my own window. I pray Psalm 130:
Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord,
Lord hear my voice: let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications.
If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?
But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be revered.
I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.
As I pray, I see the place where charity leaks away. For my marriage continues--as does yours. Is it that we stand as reminders of the nature of things? Has the Church come to believe an underlying falsehood: that our need for grace carried us to the day we made a profession of faith, but then our commitment to holiness retained our position? What of those of us who stand in these places under designated beacon-lights of sin, ones that never go away this side of the grave?
Why does the target group change, but the spirit of rejection remain?
(Before you, it was me. Before me it was interracial couples, etc)
I do not know the answer to these questions, but this verse I leave with you, and hold for myself, too:
Above all things, have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins. Use hospitality one to another without grudging. As every man hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. --1 Peter 4:8-10.
I want you to know, I recognize your fervent charity toward me. I pray you feel it from me, too.
Saturday, April 04, 2015
Monday, January 06, 2014
Beginning to Begin
My posts to this blog have dwindled over the years, until last year I posted only once.
But I'm feeling drawn back to this blog again, like an artist to a long-abandoned attic studio.
And my heart aches for a place to play poetic again.
So I'll pull the white dust cloths back and clean the windows.
I'll gaze out on the street of a new year.
Then I'll look for a blank canvas, waiting in a pile against a stone wall.
But I'm feeling drawn back to this blog again, like an artist to a long-abandoned attic studio.
And my heart aches for a place to play poetic again.
So I'll pull the white dust cloths back and clean the windows.
I'll gaze out on the street of a new year.
Then I'll look for a blank canvas, waiting in a pile against a stone wall.
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
What Do You Call Your Calling? (...On Seeing Foam)
I set out this morning on a quick run to the farm store. I needed carrots to make some slaw. That's all.
But I found myself instead driving to the place I often take walks. And almost as if some mystical invitation had prompted me, I thought, "Why not a walk? For once, I have the time to do something spontaneous." I parked the car and set out.
I was wearing flip-flops, so I took them off and walked the trail barefoot. (I read somewhere that's good for you.) I simply walked and marveled at the wonder of walking comfortably barefoot in October. And, I breathed deeply, smelling the mixed aroma of living things in their spicy submission to the onslaught of the season of decay.
I thought about how hard the last few days have been for me.
Though the selfless love of my husband is a deep and abiding presence in my life, there are others who are not so loyal to me. There are those who for whatever reason choose to believe that any goodness or value they see in me must surely rest on some secret foundation that is selfish, even devious and malicious in its driving force. One of those people--one I had considered a friend in ministry--approached me with harsh accusations. Life had interrupted our ministry together for the last month or so, and this--our first time to serve together again--was painfully cold and standoffish. I was shocked, devastated by the change in her toward me. With almost involuntary vulnerability, I burst into tears. Then it was my friend's turn to be shocked and dismayed. While she had refused to speak to me of our ministry together before she'd unleashed her accusations, nevertheless she stopped me then, before I could run out the door weeping; and she finally let me talk a bit about my own heart, too. Eventually, we considered (delicately) the possibility that a third-party jealousy was attempting to intrude, maybe even to ruin my reputation with her, my friend. We talked of Gospel parables making themselves "real" in this instance and in our not-so-little little circle. We left the moment friends yet again, praying that God would protect our unity.
But, her suspiciousness of my motives drove me to the throne of God anyway. Was I deceiving myself? Did I covet influence with powerful people? I thought I was content with the approval of God alone, that He had no competition in terms of setting the parameters of my value. I won't say I haven't been tested in this. I have. But I have passed that test every time it presents. Am I to be condemned for even taking the test? Still...was I lying to myself in all this?
So I opened myself to that glaring scrutiny. I steeled myself for desolation, plucked up my courage lest I should hear that He found me lacking. Then He came with words of love and comfort. Instruction, yes; but not scathing condemnation. Not like humans often seem to try to assign to me. He was God that way.
Then I read the September 30 entry in My Utmost for His Highest, and these words felt penned for me:
"...He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be his call for us. And for one radiant, flashing moment we see His purpose, and we say 'Here am I! Send me..."
(That was the second of three times that particular verse from Isaiah has come across my path from diverse sources over the past four days.)
Chambers continues: "This call has nothing to do with personal sanctification, but with being made broken bread and poured out wine. Yet God can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us..." But, O God, my friend? Did You have to crush me with my friend? "We must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom. If we are going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed--you can not drink grapes..." Thy will be done...
I walked, finally at rest again after those hard days. I enjoyed the peace of clarity, like fresh air after a sudden violent storm.
Then, I saw a path down to the water's edge, and I felt a beckoning. So I went down, and I saw this:
Like being struck by a bolt of lightning, I remembered the dream...
I had it a long time ago. I thought I was finished with it.
I wasn't.
In this dream, God sent me on assignment. I visited many churches, specifically to check the level of soapy foam on the floor. (Surely I've spoken of this dream here before.) I did as I was assigned. And eventually, I reported back to God. I was able to tell Him that while the foam was still present, it was dissipating. And this was good news. When I first had it, the dream made me chuckle.
Some days after that dream, I came across this verse in Jude, in a section about recognizing false teachers and false teaching. The verse is one in a series that defines the characteristics of false teachers. They are marked as ones who are like "wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame..." (vs. 13) One commentary I read described this as a type of storminess that lifted a shame that false teachers could not even recognize within themselves.
This...this is what I was sent out to assess in the churches. It was nothing to chuckle at anymore.
And so, I did as I was assigned. Not so much intentionally. We entered a phase of life in which visiting a variety of churches happened naturally. Not until we were months into it did we realize that we--my husband and I--were walking out the dream assignment. Eventually, we asked God to give us rest from the wandering. We were growing weary so we asked to be planted somewhere. He sent us to a place where we could abide, and we've been there a good year.
I assumed that planting meant the assignment was finished, but it wasn't. I simply didn't realize I was still on duty until He took me down to the water today and showed me the foam again.
But my friend and I had already found a measure of restoration.
And I had grown in my understanding of my own calling by vast measure in these last few days. I still don't know who was the source of those ugly waves. I only saw the froth that floats in to shore, giving evidence of this violent work. It doesn't matter. What might have been meant for my condemnation, what might still mean my martyrdom in the place where I am now, this only clarified my calling and highlighted His defense of my value to Him. He was God to me that way.
As far as the state of things between my friend and me, I am thankful I can say the dream proves true all the way to its ending.
Yes, the foam was there...but it is dissipating.
But I found myself instead driving to the place I often take walks. And almost as if some mystical invitation had prompted me, I thought, "Why not a walk? For once, I have the time to do something spontaneous." I parked the car and set out.
I was wearing flip-flops, so I took them off and walked the trail barefoot. (I read somewhere that's good for you.) I simply walked and marveled at the wonder of walking comfortably barefoot in October. And, I breathed deeply, smelling the mixed aroma of living things in their spicy submission to the onslaught of the season of decay.
I thought about how hard the last few days have been for me.
But, her suspiciousness of my motives drove me to the throne of God anyway. Was I deceiving myself? Did I covet influence with powerful people? I thought I was content with the approval of God alone, that He had no competition in terms of setting the parameters of my value. I won't say I haven't been tested in this. I have. But I have passed that test every time it presents. Am I to be condemned for even taking the test? Still...was I lying to myself in all this?
So I opened myself to that glaring scrutiny. I steeled myself for desolation, plucked up my courage lest I should hear that He found me lacking. Then He came with words of love and comfort. Instruction, yes; but not scathing condemnation. Not like humans often seem to try to assign to me. He was God that way.
Then I read the September 30 entry in My Utmost for His Highest, and these words felt penned for me:
"...He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be his call for us. And for one radiant, flashing moment we see His purpose, and we say 'Here am I! Send me..."
(That was the second of three times that particular verse from Isaiah has come across my path from diverse sources over the past four days.)
Chambers continues: "This call has nothing to do with personal sanctification, but with being made broken bread and poured out wine. Yet God can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us..." But, O God, my friend? Did You have to crush me with my friend? "We must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom. If we are going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed--you can not drink grapes..." Thy will be done...
I walked, finally at rest again after those hard days. I enjoyed the peace of clarity, like fresh air after a sudden violent storm.
Then, I saw a path down to the water's edge, and I felt a beckoning. So I went down, and I saw this:
I had it a long time ago. I thought I was finished with it.
I wasn't.
In this dream, God sent me on assignment. I visited many churches, specifically to check the level of soapy foam on the floor. (Surely I've spoken of this dream here before.) I did as I was assigned. And eventually, I reported back to God. I was able to tell Him that while the foam was still present, it was dissipating. And this was good news. When I first had it, the dream made me chuckle.
Some days after that dream, I came across this verse in Jude, in a section about recognizing false teachers and false teaching. The verse is one in a series that defines the characteristics of false teachers. They are marked as ones who are like "wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame..." (vs. 13) One commentary I read described this as a type of storminess that lifted a shame that false teachers could not even recognize within themselves.
This...this is what I was sent out to assess in the churches. It was nothing to chuckle at anymore.
And so, I did as I was assigned. Not so much intentionally. We entered a phase of life in which visiting a variety of churches happened naturally. Not until we were months into it did we realize that we--my husband and I--were walking out the dream assignment. Eventually, we asked God to give us rest from the wandering. We were growing weary so we asked to be planted somewhere. He sent us to a place where we could abide, and we've been there a good year.
I assumed that planting meant the assignment was finished, but it wasn't. I simply didn't realize I was still on duty until He took me down to the water today and showed me the foam again.
But my friend and I had already found a measure of restoration.
And I had grown in my understanding of my own calling by vast measure in these last few days. I still don't know who was the source of those ugly waves. I only saw the froth that floats in to shore, giving evidence of this violent work. It doesn't matter. What might have been meant for my condemnation, what might still mean my martyrdom in the place where I am now, this only clarified my calling and highlighted His defense of my value to Him. He was God to me that way.
As far as the state of things between my friend and me, I am thankful I can say the dream proves true all the way to its ending.
Yes, the foam was there...but it is dissipating.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
I Am Entitled
"...to be afraid of oneself is the last horror..." C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce
I am entitled...
...to live unsettled and ever striving;
...to lose myself as a side-kick in other people's story, to show how serious I am about Your demands for servanthood;
...to never be at peace where I am, because there is always a better place where You could take me;
...to live a life praiseworthy, because when others praise me I can say demurely, "Not me, His is the glory." Never seeing that I am covet-beckoning all the more;
...to punish myself before You get to it, because Your punishment might not be severe enough.
I am entitled...
...to have the concept fail.
...to have the convictions falter.
...and then...
I am entitled...
...to find the treasure in the darkness
as the sun sets to a moonless night;
...to cling in the cleft on the cold barren mountain.
But most of all and in the end, I am entitled
...to remember what it is to be the child of a Father
who smiles.
I am entitled...
...to live unsettled and ever striving;
...to lose myself as a side-kick in other people's story, to show how serious I am about Your demands for servanthood;
...to never be at peace where I am, because there is always a better place where You could take me;
...to live a life praiseworthy, because when others praise me I can say demurely, "Not me, His is the glory." Never seeing that I am covet-beckoning all the more;
...to punish myself before You get to it, because Your punishment might not be severe enough.
I am entitled...
...to have the concept fail.
...to have the convictions falter.
...and then...
I am entitled...
...to find the treasure in the darkness
as the sun sets to a moonless night;
...to cling in the cleft on the cold barren mountain.
But most of all and in the end, I am entitled
...to remember what it is to be the child of a Father
who smiles.
Monday, November 05, 2012
What Do You Call Prayer
I can't define prayer but with a story.
I took a walk today, and as I walked along my favorite trail I passed a man who walked the opposite direction. Bald, in a grey hoodie and wearing sunglasses, he traveled with a walking stick in hand. We smiled and nodded to each other, and I walked on around the circle.
About a mile around the loop, in a broad open place, I came upon him again.
He smiled, "We meet again."
I smiled, "That happens when you walk a circular trail." I took one headphone bud from my ear. The music still played faintly in my other ear.
"Is this trail about 3 miles?" he asked.
"I believe the last mile marker says 1.7 miles, so you could make it a little more than 3 miles if you do the circle twice, " I answered.
"I usually walk the other trail, but this time I decided to do this one," he explained.
I raised my eyebrows, "There's another trail?"
He pointed. "On the other side of the parking lot there is one."
I smiled again. "I might try that one next time. I could use some new scenery!"
He smiled, again, "Exactly." Then, turning and reaching out with his walking stick, he said, "God bless."
I put my headphone back to my ear. "Thanks!" I said.
My eyes pricked with tears as a new song began to sound in my ears. How simply he gave that final salutation, and to a stranger after just a smidgen of conversation. Then I began to wonder whether I'd met a man at all, wondered if instead I'd entertained an angel, as the saying goes. And a little thrill went through my soul as I replayed our exchange from a more transcendent perspective, for the nudge from God told me that even if I really had met a man, I had nevertheless met an angel.
And right then, it was all prayer.
So prayer...
it is a listening.
A watching.
A knowing things differently.
A seeing that all in this life is but a sort of shadow, and yet understanding the beautiful mystery:
something makes that shadow.
And finally, it is a responding.
The next time I visit that park to take a walk,
I'll be trying the other trail.
I took a walk today, and as I walked along my favorite trail I passed a man who walked the opposite direction. Bald, in a grey hoodie and wearing sunglasses, he traveled with a walking stick in hand. We smiled and nodded to each other, and I walked on around the circle.
About a mile around the loop, in a broad open place, I came upon him again.
He smiled, "We meet again."
I smiled, "That happens when you walk a circular trail." I took one headphone bud from my ear. The music still played faintly in my other ear.
"Is this trail about 3 miles?" he asked.
"I believe the last mile marker says 1.7 miles, so you could make it a little more than 3 miles if you do the circle twice, " I answered.
"I usually walk the other trail, but this time I decided to do this one," he explained.
I raised my eyebrows, "There's another trail?"
He pointed. "On the other side of the parking lot there is one."
I smiled again. "I might try that one next time. I could use some new scenery!"
He smiled, again, "Exactly." Then, turning and reaching out with his walking stick, he said, "God bless."
I put my headphone back to my ear. "Thanks!" I said.
My eyes pricked with tears as a new song began to sound in my ears. How simply he gave that final salutation, and to a stranger after just a smidgen of conversation. Then I began to wonder whether I'd met a man at all, wondered if instead I'd entertained an angel, as the saying goes. And a little thrill went through my soul as I replayed our exchange from a more transcendent perspective, for the nudge from God told me that even if I really had met a man, I had nevertheless met an angel.
And right then, it was all prayer.
So prayer...
it is a listening.
A watching.
A knowing things differently.
A seeing that all in this life is but a sort of shadow, and yet understanding the beautiful mystery:
something makes that shadow.
And finally, it is a responding.
The next time I visit that park to take a walk,
I'll be trying the other trail.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
What Do You Call a Liberal Christian?
"The LORD is in his holy temple, the LORD'S throne is in heaven: his
eyes behold, his eyelids test, the children of men." Psalm 11:4
What do we do with our breaches? When the enthroned Lord beholds in us a thing that makes Him show us His eyelids, testing our hearts while His eyes are veiled, what do we display? What should we do? He tests, but not how we gather up in our similarities. He tests how well we navigate our differences.
And so, this post is written for a very specific group of readers.
It is for those who cannot conceive how a person can be a political liberal and still call himself a Christian. But, it is written for them only if they genuinely want to understand these brothers in Christ and not just hate them.
So...what forms the political mind of the liberal Christian?
This post is long but rather narrow, be forewarned.
It quotes Scripture.
It reveals hearts, but it leaves much as yet unexamined. A large breach in a fort's wall can't be closed all at once. It is repaired a brick at a time; therefore while it is typical to argue specifics concerning the various platforms on the liberal's shopping list of philosophical postures, I share here ones that are hopefully a little different. These have the potential to be actual bricks in the hole. These are the high points, the staples on the Christian liberal's list that keep him embracing the liberal label. Even at that, these high points are honed down to a specific few. They touch primarily the spiritual implications of the economic policy of the liberal. It is very important to keep this in mind in order to achieve understanding. Touch and consider this one element first, and then move on to ones more inscrutable. This one is very straightforward. But if understanding is not your goal, you should stop reading. If you're feeling argumentative and are looking for temples to topple, you should stop reading.
The following is meant to be breach repair.
Liberals and Conservatives both have told me behind closed doors in whispered tones that they aren't completely comfortable with everything they're told they must believe in order to wear their chosen label, but they dare not share that chink of disloyalty publicly. For them, this post explains one of those things that is not a shadowy "wish we felt different about that" point. This is foundational to why the Liberal feels his is even yet the political position that offers certain soul-things to his society that do not appear to sufficiently significant in Conservative policy; and why, by embracing this position, he believes he can stand clean before God even when God shows His eyelids over certain Biblical passages. Passages like the following.
Oh...and they take this very seriously: (italics mine)
The things in italics above, the Liberal does not feel the Conservative party adequately addresses. To the Liberal Christian, it is not enough to say: "Well, those are private matters between a person and his God. Those are things for individuals and churches to cover." But the talk of oppression of workers points the finger too obviouslyat the attitude of the infamous One Percent and their level of seriousness about their societal responsibility. Liberal Christians do not fear addressing these verses communally. As this passage above introduces itself: if you're going to promote yourselves as a righteous nation, certain things are required of you...But the things of this passage are not the ones Liberals hear pressed as significant by our society's religious right. We are a righteous nation in some respects, the Liberal feels, but we are electively blind in the things of this passage. We say we are the Body of Christ, but in these matters we far prefer to be a collection of body parts that hopefully function as a whole to get the job of a body done. More than anything, the Liberal Christian feels the hatred of the Conservative because the Liberal displays how hopeless is this expectation of functionality from this dis-embodied, headless heap of limbs and organs. The Liberal, because he calls for Plan B--a government that gets the job done--may be naive for thinking any comtemporary human government could accomplish this goal, considering none in all history ever has done so and maintained it; still this is not why he is hated by others around him. He is hated because he reveals how much we as a society have failed at embracing Plan A: Christ as the Head, love as the goal.
He pokes at the nation's pus pocket of the soul, and here it is: Protect your wealth against the schemes of the lazy. This is what he hears promoted, and it chafes against passages like the one above for him. When he must weigh this Conservative policy of personal wealth preservation at all costs against the passage above--especially considering that it concludes with "I, the Lord, have spoken!"--he feels caught in a vise. Such closure in the Word of God should be sobering to any Christian.
For is it really a truism: that all the poor are lazy and selfish? Do we really believe what we say when we say that? Do we even hear ourselves saying that? Should we not, given we call ourselves a righteous nation, concern ourselves with their needs anyway? Are we really spiritually exempt from addressing poverty and need corporately? If so, then what does it mean to be a Christian nation? Is it really just a credal badge, without any accompanying action?
Jesus often spoke figuratively of groups being called to "rise up and judge" certain segments of His society. He called up the likes of Sodom and Gomorrah, Nineveh and the Queen of Sheba. Would He not, in our day, call up the widow with her two mites to answer that philosophical question? How would she respond to the statement that the poor are lazy and selfish and should be forced to fend for themselves overall? If you think I go too far with that, then consider how she would judge our policies for addressing the needs of our corporate poor on this presumption of lack of motivation in the poor of our society, again given that we choose to wear the badge "Christian Nation"? Would she not ask, "How many actual poor have you personally known in order to form this opinion? Which poor people in your own community can you name who have taught you that this is an overarching truth?"
And so, many a Liberal Christian has stopped going to church and walks in the despair of the reproached. But, he considers Psalm 73. He gazes through the lens that defines who is who in our society. This is where the Liberal Christian's heart goes when he feels ostracized, when he tries to go to Church USA and yet remain true to his understanding of Isaiah 58:
And so the Liberals are beginning to congeal and find sanctuaries for themselves. When they are considered senseless beasts by those around them--even taught to call themselves this, they are remembering to say, "And yet I am yours" to their God. For this they are considered anathema to the "prosperous wicked," who court the most eloquent Conservative pundits against these new gatherings--particularly because of the spiritual side of the authority and power shifting around in all these things. It is one thing to have to deal with protestors in a chaos of tents. It is another thing entirely to deal with those who consider themselves God's chosen champions for the poor and the oppressed--especially when they gather together and reflect on the verses that tell them the result of their dedication to His cause. They may not have it all exactly right, but they are beginning to pay attention to the the apples of God's eye in an orchard long neglected. The halls of entrenched power respect the lessons of history enough to make great efforts to shroud such things in darkness and disdain, for these are the things of successful revolution. The Powerful would hide their "let them eat cake" derision in Our Day before it is processed by potential revolutionaries.
Does all this make the Liberal Christian the emblem of perfection? Hardly, for while the Liberal might bear this verse on his bumper sticker:
Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you.
he, nevertheless, would hesitate to have his pundits prate over this one any more that the Conservatives would:
For if you love those who love you, what reward have you?
Do not even the tax collectors do the same?
Indeed. Here we are stuck. We love those who love us. We say we love others but hate their sin, and so God test us in that. And time under God's eyelids proves it: "...there is none righteous, no not one..." For now, we are not hating each other's sin. We are hating each other's beliefs. We are moving in to the core territory, and love is waning.
But, even as we, hopefully, humble ourselves to accept our falling-short across the board, God does not forget. Nor does His grace fall insufficient. One day, we will acknowledge that it is He who sets the intricate balance of human economy, of seed to sower and bread to eater.
In the day we stop worshiping the work of our hands we will know:
What should we say to the closed eyelids?
"I desire you more than anything on earth." That is what He is waiting to hear.
In as much as it depends on you: repair the breach, touch His heart.
And ask Him to open His eyes on you and your brother again.
What do we do with our breaches? When the enthroned Lord beholds in us a thing that makes Him show us His eyelids, testing our hearts while His eyes are veiled, what do we display? What should we do? He tests, but not how we gather up in our similarities. He tests how well we navigate our differences.
And so, this post is written for a very specific group of readers.
It is for those who cannot conceive how a person can be a political liberal and still call himself a Christian. But, it is written for them only if they genuinely want to understand these brothers in Christ and not just hate them.
So...what forms the political mind of the liberal Christian?
This post is long but rather narrow, be forewarned.
It quotes Scripture.
It reveals hearts, but it leaves much as yet unexamined. A large breach in a fort's wall can't be closed all at once. It is repaired a brick at a time; therefore while it is typical to argue specifics concerning the various platforms on the liberal's shopping list of philosophical postures, I share here ones that are hopefully a little different. These have the potential to be actual bricks in the hole. These are the high points, the staples on the Christian liberal's list that keep him embracing the liberal label. Even at that, these high points are honed down to a specific few. They touch primarily the spiritual implications of the economic policy of the liberal. It is very important to keep this in mind in order to achieve understanding. Touch and consider this one element first, and then move on to ones more inscrutable. This one is very straightforward. But if understanding is not your goal, you should stop reading. If you're feeling argumentative and are looking for temples to topple, you should stop reading.
The following is meant to be breach repair.
Liberals and Conservatives both have told me behind closed doors in whispered tones that they aren't completely comfortable with everything they're told they must believe in order to wear their chosen label, but they dare not share that chink of disloyalty publicly. For them, this post explains one of those things that is not a shadowy "wish we felt different about that" point. This is foundational to why the Liberal feels his is even yet the political position that offers certain soul-things to his society that do not appear to sufficiently significant in Conservative policy; and why, by embracing this position, he believes he can stand clean before God even when God shows His eyelids over certain Biblical passages. Passages like the following.
Oh...and they take this very seriously: (italics mine)
True and False Worship
1 “Shout with the voice of a trumpet blast.
Shout aloud! Don’t be timid.
Tell my people Israel [fn1] of their sins!
2 Yet they act so pious!
They come to the Temple every day
and seem delighted to learn all about me.
They act like a righteous nation
that would never abandon the laws of its God.
They ask me to take action on their behalf,
pretending they want to be near me.
3 ‘We have fasted before you!’ they say.
‘Why aren’t you impressed?
We have been very hard on ourselves,
and you don’t even notice it!’
“I will tell you why!” I respond.
“It’s because you are fasting to please yourselves.
Even while you fast,
you keep oppressing your workers.
4 What good is fasting
when you keep on fighting and quarreling?
This kind of fasting
will never get you anywhere with me.
5 You humble yourselves
by going through the motions of penance,
bowing your heads
like reeds bending in the wind.
You dress in burlap
and cover yourselves with ashes.
Is this what you call fasting?
Do you really think this will please the LORD?
6 “No, this is the kind of fasting I want:
Free those who are wrongly imprisoned;
lighten the burden of those who work for you.
Let the oppressed go free,
and remove the chains that bind people.
7 Share your food with the hungry,
and give shelter to the homeless.
Give clothes to those who need them,
and do not hide from relatives who need your help.
8 “Then your salvation will come like the dawn,
and your wounds will quickly heal.
Your godliness will lead you forward,
and the glory of the LORD will protect you
from behind.
9 Then when you call, the LORD will answer.
‘Yes, I am here,’ he will quickly reply.
“Remove the heavy yoke of oppression.
Stop pointing your finger and spreading vicious
rumors!
10 Feed the hungry,
and help those in trouble.
Then your light will shine out from the darkness,
and the darkness around you will be as bright as
noon.
11 The LORD will guide you
continually,
giving you water when you are dry
and restoring your strength.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like an ever-flowing spring.
12 Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your
cities.
Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls
and a restorer of homes.
13 “Keep the Sabbath day holy.
Don’t pursue your own interests on that day,
but enjoy the Sabbath
and speak of it with delight as the LORD’s holy day.
Honor the Sabbath in everything you do on that day,
and don’t follow your own desires or talk idly.
14 Then the LORD will be your
delight.
I will give you great honor
and satisfy you with the inheritance I promised to your
ancestor Jacob.
I, the LORD, have spoken!”
--Isaiah 58, NLT
The things in italics above, the Liberal does not feel the Conservative party adequately addresses. To the Liberal Christian, it is not enough to say: "Well, those are private matters between a person and his God. Those are things for individuals and churches to cover." But the talk of oppression of workers points the finger too obviouslyat the attitude of the infamous One Percent and their level of seriousness about their societal responsibility. Liberal Christians do not fear addressing these verses communally. As this passage above introduces itself: if you're going to promote yourselves as a righteous nation, certain things are required of you...But the things of this passage are not the ones Liberals hear pressed as significant by our society's religious right. We are a righteous nation in some respects, the Liberal feels, but we are electively blind in the things of this passage. We say we are the Body of Christ, but in these matters we far prefer to be a collection of body parts that hopefully function as a whole to get the job of a body done. More than anything, the Liberal Christian feels the hatred of the Conservative because the Liberal displays how hopeless is this expectation of functionality from this dis-embodied, headless heap of limbs and organs. The Liberal, because he calls for Plan B--a government that gets the job done--may be naive for thinking any comtemporary human government could accomplish this goal, considering none in all history ever has done so and maintained it; still this is not why he is hated by others around him. He is hated because he reveals how much we as a society have failed at embracing Plan A: Christ as the Head, love as the goal.
He pokes at the nation's pus pocket of the soul, and here it is: Protect your wealth against the schemes of the lazy. This is what he hears promoted, and it chafes against passages like the one above for him. When he must weigh this Conservative policy of personal wealth preservation at all costs against the passage above--especially considering that it concludes with "I, the Lord, have spoken!"--he feels caught in a vise. Such closure in the Word of God should be sobering to any Christian.
For is it really a truism: that all the poor are lazy and selfish? Do we really believe what we say when we say that? Do we even hear ourselves saying that? Should we not, given we call ourselves a righteous nation, concern ourselves with their needs anyway? Are we really spiritually exempt from addressing poverty and need corporately? If so, then what does it mean to be a Christian nation? Is it really just a credal badge, without any accompanying action?
Jesus often spoke figuratively of groups being called to "rise up and judge" certain segments of His society. He called up the likes of Sodom and Gomorrah, Nineveh and the Queen of Sheba. Would He not, in our day, call up the widow with her two mites to answer that philosophical question? How would she respond to the statement that the poor are lazy and selfish and should be forced to fend for themselves overall? If you think I go too far with that, then consider how she would judge our policies for addressing the needs of our corporate poor on this presumption of lack of motivation in the poor of our society, again given that we choose to wear the badge "Christian Nation"? Would she not ask, "How many actual poor have you personally known in order to form this opinion? Which poor people in your own community can you name who have taught you that this is an overarching truth?"
And so, many a Liberal Christian has stopped going to church and walks in the despair of the reproached. But, he considers Psalm 73. He gazes through the lens that defines who is who in our society. This is where the Liberal Christian's heart goes when he feels ostracized, when he tries to go to Church USA and yet remain true to his understanding of Isaiah 58:
1 Truly God is good to Israel,
to those whose hearts are pure.
2 But as for me, I almost lost my footing.
My feet were slipping, and I was almost gone.
3 For I envied the proud
when I saw them prosper despite their wickedness.
4 They seem to live such painless lives;
their bodies are so healthy and strong.
5 They don’t have troubles like other people;
they’re not plagued with problems like everyone
else.
6 They wear pride like a jeweled necklace
and clothe themselves with cruelty.
7 These fat cats have everything
their hearts could ever wish for!
8 They scoff and speak only evil;
in their pride they seek to crush others.
9 They boast against the very heavens,
and their words strut throughout the earth.
10 And so the people are dismayed and confused,
drinking in all their words.
11 “What does God know?” they ask.
“Does the Most High even know what’s happening?”
12 Look at these wicked people—
enjoying a life of ease while their riches
multiply.
13 Did I keep my heart pure for nothing?
Did I keep myself innocent for no reason?
14 I get nothing but trouble all day long;
every morning brings me pain.
15 If I had really spoken this way to others,
I would have been a traitor to your people.
16 So I tried to understand why the wicked prosper.
But what a difficult task it is!
17 Then I went into your sanctuary, O God,
and I finally understood the destiny of the wicked.
18 Truly, you put them on a slippery path
and send them sliding over the cliff to
destruction.
19 In an instant they are destroyed,
completely swept away by terrors.
20 When you arise, O Lord,
you will laugh at their silly ideas
as a person laughs at dreams in the morning.
21 Then I realized that my heart was bitter,
and I was all torn up inside.
22 I was so foolish and ignorant—
I must have seemed like a senseless animal to you.
23 Yet I still belong to you;
you hold my right hand.
24 You guide me with your counsel,
leading me to a glorious destiny.
25 Whom have I in heaven but you?
I desire you more than anything on earth.
26 My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak,
but God remains the strength of my heart;
he is mine forever.
27 Those who desert him will perish,
for you destroy those who abandon you.
28 But as for me, how good it is to be near God!
I have made the Sovereign LORD my shelter,
and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things you
do.
And so the Liberals are beginning to congeal and find sanctuaries for themselves. When they are considered senseless beasts by those around them--even taught to call themselves this, they are remembering to say, "And yet I am yours" to their God. For this they are considered anathema to the "prosperous wicked," who court the most eloquent Conservative pundits against these new gatherings--particularly because of the spiritual side of the authority and power shifting around in all these things. It is one thing to have to deal with protestors in a chaos of tents. It is another thing entirely to deal with those who consider themselves God's chosen champions for the poor and the oppressed--especially when they gather together and reflect on the verses that tell them the result of their dedication to His cause. They may not have it all exactly right, but they are beginning to pay attention to the the apples of God's eye in an orchard long neglected. The halls of entrenched power respect the lessons of history enough to make great efforts to shroud such things in darkness and disdain, for these are the things of successful revolution. The Powerful would hide their "let them eat cake" derision in Our Day before it is processed by potential revolutionaries.
Does all this make the Liberal Christian the emblem of perfection? Hardly, for while the Liberal might bear this verse on his bumper sticker:
Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you.
he, nevertheless, would hesitate to have his pundits prate over this one any more that the Conservatives would:
For if you love those who love you, what reward have you?
Do not even the tax collectors do the same?
Indeed. Here we are stuck. We love those who love us. We say we love others but hate their sin, and so God test us in that. And time under God's eyelids proves it: "...there is none righteous, no not one..." For now, we are not hating each other's sin. We are hating each other's beliefs. We are moving in to the core territory, and love is waning.
But, even as we, hopefully, humble ourselves to accept our falling-short across the board, God does not forget. Nor does His grace fall insufficient. One day, we will acknowledge that it is He who sets the intricate balance of human economy, of seed to sower and bread to eater.
In the day we stop worshiping the work of our hands we will know:
| Isa 55:8 | For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the LORD. |
| Isa 55:9 | For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. |
| Isa 55:10 | "For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and return not thither but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, |
| Isa 55:11 | so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and prosper in the thing for which I sent it. |
| Isa 55:12 | "For you shall go out in joy, and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. |
| Isa 55:13 | Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall be to the LORD for a memorial, for an everlasting sign which shall not be cut off." |
"I desire you more than anything on earth." That is what He is waiting to hear.
In as much as it depends on you: repair the breach, touch His heart.
And ask Him to open His eyes on you and your brother again.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
"There is a way that seemeth right to a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death..." Proverbs 16:25
The way of death is like a man who conquers a mountain of ice.
But what is ice?
A faulty solid,
Utterly dependent on the climate of the day.
He plants his flag, but soon
A warm wind blows, and ice becomes water
And water steam.
And the wind takes it away
While he and his flag
Are left behind
Looking silly...
The way of death is like a man who conquers a mountain of ice.
But what is ice?
A faulty solid,
Utterly dependent on the climate of the day.
He plants his flag, but soon
A warm wind blows, and ice becomes water
And water steam.
And the wind takes it away
While he and his flag
Are left behind
Looking silly...
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
What Might I Say to an Athiest
If you want to understand me:
spend time with monks who live under a vow of silence;
watch a fistful of sand blow through your fingers on a craggy cliff;
listen to a single snowflake, and then to a chorus of them;
And finally, permit yourself to set aside
textbooks and treatises,
mirrors and tools.
Fill their place
WIth poetry.
And as you do, consider the possibility:
You ARE the poetry in the hidden places.
Do these, and I might begin to seem less ridiculous.
spend time with monks who live under a vow of silence;
watch a fistful of sand blow through your fingers on a craggy cliff;
listen to a single snowflake, and then to a chorus of them;
And finally, permit yourself to set aside
textbooks and treatises,
mirrors and tools.
Fill their place
WIth poetry.
And as you do, consider the possibility:
You ARE the poetry in the hidden places.
Do these, and I might begin to seem less ridiculous.
Monday, January 02, 2012
What Do You Call Forgiveness?
Today I read prayers, composed by the Kalahari Bushmen--written long before missionaries ever found their tribes.
(You are the master)
Lord, Lord, you are the Lord.
You created all things.
You are the master of the forest.
You are the master of the animals.
You are our master, and we are your servants.
You are the master of life and death.
You rule, we obey.
(For protection against snakes)
When the foot in the night stumbles,
Let the obstacle not rear up and bite.
There are many branches strewn across our path
Which threaten no harm to the clumsy foot,
Protect against those sharp-toothed branches
That spring to life and kill.
(On a journey)
Keep us safe from every ill,
Every mishap, every pain.
Let no men or animals attack us.
Lord, bring us safely home.
But my own prayer on reading these was not as confident as the prayers of these Bushmen, whose prayers I've been taught to disdain as the prayers of the unsaved.
Lord, I don't pretend to understand the full mystery of the way you as Son of God instate the conditions of forgiveness, but something feels shallow in my belief if I am to espouse the idea that You would look upon such a prayer and shrug and say, "Sorry. Too bad no one came along to tell you My story. I could have done something for you then, but as it stands I can do nothing with your request for a safe trip home, for safety from the snake, and I cannot esteem your obedience..."
We (those blessed to hear Your story from our cradles) can comfort ourselves by thinking, well such prayers brought missionaries...but what of the ones who prayed these before the missionaries ever arrived? It seems to me that to believe them collateral damage is to believe You a slave to time and chance, and that simply cannot be! You may allow that man's free will should limit Your power, but to allow time and chance to rule Your eternal availability is something else entirely, is it not? I would rather believe that I've walked under faulty teaching than to believe that You are so happily treacherous and cavalier with destiny. I know You are God and can do what You like, but doesn't that maybe mean that You could choose to do good though my eye might see evil?
And so, I wondered if I thus blasphemed myself right out of my own right-standing--ever to have a hip out of joint, at best.
But later, I read something else in a book called Christy. It's a semi-biographical novel about a young woman who, in 1912, left a cosmopolitan world to enter remote mountain life as a mission-school teacher. In the story, she is asked to prepare a newborn's corpse for burial as no other mission employee is available. She discovers that the mother unintentionally killed her child, never realizing her own hand dealt the death. The baby, according to the mother, was "liver-growed" which meant that while one infant hand could cross the body and touch the foot from one side, it could not from the other side. Even to the "modern mind" of 1912, this pointed to profound internal organ issues; but to the mountain woman it was something else entirely.
Don't be afraid to ask questions if they are soul questions and not just some argument springing from an idle mind or a secret lack of courage. Now, here is better question to ask yourself: is it likely that a 19-year-old girl completely out of her element in the throes of her first exposure to profound and permanent loss, loss due to ignorance--that even this young girl should have more compassionate wisdom at her disposal than I am able to generate?
"...Opal McHone had not known what she did. And I had to understand and forgive her on that basis, otherwise I could be no comfort to her at all..."
If it is all about happening by chance to know the the right things at the right time or else suffer eternal torment, then where in the world does charity find a resting place? It is a thing to think about...
SO here is my prayer, from Romans 2, help me to understand the mystery:
(You are the master)
Lord, Lord, you are the Lord.
You created all things.
You are the master of the forest.
You are the master of the animals.
You are our master, and we are your servants.
You are the master of life and death.
You rule, we obey.
(For protection against snakes)
When the foot in the night stumbles,
Let the obstacle not rear up and bite.
There are many branches strewn across our path
Which threaten no harm to the clumsy foot,
Protect against those sharp-toothed branches
That spring to life and kill.
(On a journey)
Keep us safe from every ill,
Every mishap, every pain.
Let no men or animals attack us.
Lord, bring us safely home.
But my own prayer on reading these was not as confident as the prayers of these Bushmen, whose prayers I've been taught to disdain as the prayers of the unsaved.
Lord, I don't pretend to understand the full mystery of the way you as Son of God instate the conditions of forgiveness, but something feels shallow in my belief if I am to espouse the idea that You would look upon such a prayer and shrug and say, "Sorry. Too bad no one came along to tell you My story. I could have done something for you then, but as it stands I can do nothing with your request for a safe trip home, for safety from the snake, and I cannot esteem your obedience..."
We (those blessed to hear Your story from our cradles) can comfort ourselves by thinking, well such prayers brought missionaries...but what of the ones who prayed these before the missionaries ever arrived? It seems to me that to believe them collateral damage is to believe You a slave to time and chance, and that simply cannot be! You may allow that man's free will should limit Your power, but to allow time and chance to rule Your eternal availability is something else entirely, is it not? I would rather believe that I've walked under faulty teaching than to believe that You are so happily treacherous and cavalier with destiny. I know You are God and can do what You like, but doesn't that maybe mean that You could choose to do good though my eye might see evil?
And so, I wondered if I thus blasphemed myself right out of my own right-standing--ever to have a hip out of joint, at best.
But later, I read something else in a book called Christy. It's a semi-biographical novel about a young woman who, in 1912, left a cosmopolitan world to enter remote mountain life as a mission-school teacher. In the story, she is asked to prepare a newborn's corpse for burial as no other mission employee is available. She discovers that the mother unintentionally killed her child, never realizing her own hand dealt the death. The baby, according to the mother, was "liver-growed" which meant that while one infant hand could cross the body and touch the foot from one side, it could not from the other side. Even to the "modern mind" of 1912, this pointed to profound internal organ issues; but to the mountain woman it was something else entirely.
"What do you do then?" I asked.I read the prayerbook intending to pray and found I couldn't; I read the novel just for fun and found myself praying for You linked them in my mind.
"You got to force the hand and heel to tech. When I pulled, the baby hollered and went as limp and white as a new-washed rag doll. Never could do nothin' with her after that. Give her tea all night long, but nothin' holped. Jest afore the sunball come up, we heerd the death tick in the wall. Jest quit breathin' then, she did."
The woman had started crying quietly, wiping her eyes with the edge of her apron. She led us inside the house and pointed to the little waxen body lying in the middle of a large bed, a white cloth over the tiny face.
The horror of this sickened me. The baby must have had cruel internal injuries. Yet Opal McHone had wanted this baby daughter. She was not a callous, indifferent mother but had acted out of love, love mired by her ignorance and by the superstition handed down to her.
At that time, for the first time in my life, I knew grief. I had had childish disappointments, yes. Hurt pride, often. A sense of loss, sometimes. But compared to what I was feeling now, these had been superficial emotions because they were so self-centered. On my tongue now was the first bitter taste of a grief not my own. My heart was mirroring back from the world's pain just one episode from all the endless woes and infamies caused by the not-knowing and the not-caring. Opal McHone had not known what she did. And I had to understand and to forgive her on that basis, otherwise I could be no comfort to her at all.
Don't be afraid to ask questions if they are soul questions and not just some argument springing from an idle mind or a secret lack of courage. Now, here is better question to ask yourself: is it likely that a 19-year-old girl completely out of her element in the throes of her first exposure to profound and permanent loss, loss due to ignorance--that even this young girl should have more compassionate wisdom at her disposal than I am able to generate?
"...Opal McHone had not known what she did. And I had to understand and forgive her on that basis, otherwise I could be no comfort to her at all..."
If it is all about happening by chance to know the the right things at the right time or else suffer eternal torment, then where in the world does charity find a resting place? It is a thing to think about...
SO here is my prayer, from Romans 2, help me to understand the mystery:
For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before
God, but the doers of the law who will be justified.
| |||||
| Your law, O God, is that I love You with all my heart and my soul and my mind, and love my neighbor as myself. Whatever You would have me know of the mysteries of our salvation, may I never be the cause for Your name to be blasphemed. Amen. |
|||||
Monday, August 08, 2011
What Do You Call Unique?
This morning, I've been inundated with this message from You, the One who pours scented oil on my soul: approval at a point of accomplishment in a time of testing.
Two cardinals danced in my garden as the sun rose. I tried to capture them with a photo, but neither the camera nor the birds would cooperate. Then it occurred to me that You didn't want their picture taken. What those birds did as heralds to my heart was for me and me alone. I allowed that it should be that.
Then later, thoughts of Our relationship in that private room of my soul--the journeys we've taken there, the hopes crystallized, the dreams defined...for the past few years, I've been "proving" I was ok with those things never being acknowledged outside that room, never being recognized in a larger context than what my own paltry human mind is able receive. That, despite the lie that they are too big to retain within one person, nevertheless it is enough that I and I alone pay homage to the wonder of the alchemy of my courage as it is incorporated into Your grace. This then was the test, and the definition of the accomplishment--for certain, a covered cup until the very moment I was to drink it. Until I was willing to allow all that loveliness to remain essentially private, "it" would always carry the patina of selfish honor desired honor, of settling for a recognition more immediate but from a less pure source.
So often, the idea that You are no "respecter of persons" becomes a theme used to discourage people from the inhabiting of such rooms in their hearts; but to my thinking, it is truer that if You made each of us unique in so many ways, then You must surely desire uniqueness in Your relationship with each and every one of us. It is in this way that You are no respecter of persons--that You have given every one of us such a place, a place of co-habitation between creator and created. But once therein, the relationship is allowed to become intensely personal.
Though a surface glance might call it paradoxical, sincere co-operative endeavors are only really possible--at least in the long run and in their most effective results--when they spring from who we learn we are in that place, and according to who You say we are when we commune with You there. This is the only way spiritual community works well and long-term.
My prayer: May we learn to uphold the sanctity of each other's private bell towers, each other's craggy nests, and rather than become envious should someone's joy overflow into pulic basking in the beauty of that spirit-home, may we instead be inspired to likewise open our own hearts to Your invitation. For I believe You ever whisper to Your creation: "Leave that common rookery and learn who you are in the place I designed uniquely for you. I promise nothing will delight you more than to go exploring what I have made for you here, all I humbly ask is that you explore it...with Me."
Two cardinals danced in my garden as the sun rose. I tried to capture them with a photo, but neither the camera nor the birds would cooperate. Then it occurred to me that You didn't want their picture taken. What those birds did as heralds to my heart was for me and me alone. I allowed that it should be that.
Then later, thoughts of Our relationship in that private room of my soul--the journeys we've taken there, the hopes crystallized, the dreams defined...for the past few years, I've been "proving" I was ok with those things never being acknowledged outside that room, never being recognized in a larger context than what my own paltry human mind is able receive. That, despite the lie that they are too big to retain within one person, nevertheless it is enough that I and I alone pay homage to the wonder of the alchemy of my courage as it is incorporated into Your grace. This then was the test, and the definition of the accomplishment--for certain, a covered cup until the very moment I was to drink it. Until I was willing to allow all that loveliness to remain essentially private, "it" would always carry the patina of selfish honor desired honor, of settling for a recognition more immediate but from a less pure source.
So often, the idea that You are no "respecter of persons" becomes a theme used to discourage people from the inhabiting of such rooms in their hearts; but to my thinking, it is truer that if You made each of us unique in so many ways, then You must surely desire uniqueness in Your relationship with each and every one of us. It is in this way that You are no respecter of persons--that You have given every one of us such a place, a place of co-habitation between creator and created. But once therein, the relationship is allowed to become intensely personal.
Though a surface glance might call it paradoxical, sincere co-operative endeavors are only really possible--at least in the long run and in their most effective results--when they spring from who we learn we are in that place, and according to who You say we are when we commune with You there. This is the only way spiritual community works well and long-term.
My prayer: May we learn to uphold the sanctity of each other's private bell towers, each other's craggy nests, and rather than become envious should someone's joy overflow into pulic basking in the beauty of that spirit-home, may we instead be inspired to likewise open our own hearts to Your invitation. For I believe You ever whisper to Your creation: "Leave that common rookery and learn who you are in the place I designed uniquely for you. I promise nothing will delight you more than to go exploring what I have made for you here, all I humbly ask is that you explore it...with Me."
Friday, July 01, 2011
Reality Check: Who Do You Worship?
Lately, a few in my prayer circle are being hurt by those closest to them. We are all "broken vessels" as the saying goes, but sometimes it is good to look at the vessel that was broken by forces without, not within...so as to renew our faith, hope and charity.
The Resurrection
1 Saturday evening, when the Sabbath ended, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went out and purchased burial spices so they could anoint Jesus’ body. 2 Very early on Sunday morning, just at sunrise, they went to the tomb. 3 On the way they were asking each other, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” 4 But as they arrived, they looked up and saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled aside.
--Their greatest perceived problem was borne of weak faith melded to great devotion. They were loving their fallen prophet even to the end as they perceived it, even to the last rites of burial. Rather than simply appearing in the upper room and completely side-stepping their point of greatest concern (how do we get past this great stone to do him this service?), He used that distress as a gateway for the first miracle given for their loving discovery. This is the friend-respect in the heart of the One we worship.
5 When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a white robe sitting on the right side. The women were shocked, 6 but the angel said, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Look, this is where they laid his body.
--a young man fled naked from the scene of Jesus' arrest, leaving behind the linen cloth he wore, fleeing his very garment as it was clutched in the grasping hands of those who sought to capture anyone who did not forsake Jesus quickly enough. (Mark 14:51-52) But in this place, a young man sits robed in white to profess the glorious state of things as they are now. These women who began their morning distressed over how to accomplish their God-given assignment to perform decent Hebrew burial now find shock and alarm layered over the already heaped-up gloom..and maybe guilt. (Could we have done more to convince Him not to enter Jerusalem this Passover?) Reassurance and detailed information come immediately at their moment of greatest need through this specifically-assigned messenger. This is the comforting hand of the One we worship.
7 Now go and tell his disciples, including Peter, that Jesus is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you before he died.”
8 The women fled from the tomb, trembling and bewildered, and they said nothing to anyone because they were too frightened.
--"...including Peter..." An assignment: to bring the most tender and intimate level of His forgiveness, to bring his invitation to follow where His Resurrected Self now goes. Meditating on the honor of such a task is breath-taking. The trust He has in our fulfilling it is mind-boggling. This is the priority of the One we worship. "You will see Him there, just as He told you before He died." This is the trustworthy transparency of the One we worship.
[Shorter Ending of Mark]
Then they briefly reported all this to Peter and his companions. Afterward Jesus himself sent them out from east to west with the sacred and unfailing message of salvation that gives eternal life. Amen.
(New Living Translation) Mark 16:1-8
--"Afterward Jesus Himself sent them out from east to west..." What we may expect from the on-going story of that state of worship: personal interaction with the One, and not just with His messengers. And, for our task: to take again that messenger bag, now no longer filled with letters of good news addressed merely to a specific few. Rather, the bag holds letters of invitation sent to so many that only cardinal directions can categorize the finding of them. This is the heart-longing of the One we worship. This is the kinship offered.
Holy Father, we wish to be strong as one clinging to a rock when the rushing flood waters buffet us, when time and chance and people who do us harm would utterly mar the "image of God" aspect of humanity around us; so grant us grace and revelation, Lord, that we may always love others according to the example of the Worthy One, and not simply to love this One according to the example of others...Amen.
The Resurrection
1 Saturday evening, when the Sabbath ended, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went out and purchased burial spices so they could anoint Jesus’ body. 2 Very early on Sunday morning, just at sunrise, they went to the tomb. 3 On the way they were asking each other, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” 4 But as they arrived, they looked up and saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled aside.
--Their greatest perceived problem was borne of weak faith melded to great devotion. They were loving their fallen prophet even to the end as they perceived it, even to the last rites of burial. Rather than simply appearing in the upper room and completely side-stepping their point of greatest concern (how do we get past this great stone to do him this service?), He used that distress as a gateway for the first miracle given for their loving discovery. This is the friend-respect in the heart of the One we worship.
5 When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a white robe sitting on the right side. The women were shocked, 6 but the angel said, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Look, this is where they laid his body.
--a young man fled naked from the scene of Jesus' arrest, leaving behind the linen cloth he wore, fleeing his very garment as it was clutched in the grasping hands of those who sought to capture anyone who did not forsake Jesus quickly enough. (Mark 14:51-52) But in this place, a young man sits robed in white to profess the glorious state of things as they are now. These women who began their morning distressed over how to accomplish their God-given assignment to perform decent Hebrew burial now find shock and alarm layered over the already heaped-up gloom..and maybe guilt. (Could we have done more to convince Him not to enter Jerusalem this Passover?) Reassurance and detailed information come immediately at their moment of greatest need through this specifically-assigned messenger. This is the comforting hand of the One we worship.
7 Now go and tell his disciples, including Peter, that Jesus is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you before he died.”
8 The women fled from the tomb, trembling and bewildered, and they said nothing to anyone because they were too frightened.
--"...including Peter..." An assignment: to bring the most tender and intimate level of His forgiveness, to bring his invitation to follow where His Resurrected Self now goes. Meditating on the honor of such a task is breath-taking. The trust He has in our fulfilling it is mind-boggling. This is the priority of the One we worship. "You will see Him there, just as He told you before He died." This is the trustworthy transparency of the One we worship.
[Shorter Ending of Mark]
Then they briefly reported all this to Peter and his companions. Afterward Jesus himself sent them out from east to west with the sacred and unfailing message of salvation that gives eternal life. Amen.
(New Living Translation) Mark 16:1-8
--"Afterward Jesus Himself sent them out from east to west..." What we may expect from the on-going story of that state of worship: personal interaction with the One, and not just with His messengers. And, for our task: to take again that messenger bag, now no longer filled with letters of good news addressed merely to a specific few. Rather, the bag holds letters of invitation sent to so many that only cardinal directions can categorize the finding of them. This is the heart-longing of the One we worship. This is the kinship offered.
Holy Father, we wish to be strong as one clinging to a rock when the rushing flood waters buffet us, when time and chance and people who do us harm would utterly mar the "image of God" aspect of humanity around us; so grant us grace and revelation, Lord, that we may always love others according to the example of the Worthy One, and not simply to love this One according to the example of others...Amen.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The Spectre Explored and Returned
Time passed and that one I'd first known as a Spectre
that one who was now a dear brother-son
came back to visit me.
I'd had quite a revelation since our last communing.
For I'd learned
He was the fulfillment of an earlier dream-event.
I recorded it back in November of 2007 in a journal:
What happens after faith finds level ground? Naturally, faith faces its next challenge. For me, it came in the form of a dream again. In this one, I stood to the left of my Lord Jesus. One of His adversaries--I hesitate to ascribe it to Lucifer himself at this point--looked at Him and said, "I'll give You them for her."
I didn't know who "they" were, but hearing mention of them put me in mind of a dream Nolan had one time when he was very small. He doesn't even remember it now, but he told me then of a dream in which people were riding on a roller coaster through space on their way to heaven. But then he said, some people accidentally fell out, but they were ok because they were given some sort of pillow to land on so the fall wouldn't hurt them. Somehow this "they" reminded me of Nolan's dream.
I looked at my Lord then to see what He would say to His enemy, but He simply looked at me. Thunderstruck, I realized this was for me to decide. For several years now, I've had a deeply interactive relationship with Him. He speaks to me with "birds and lilies" with sunrises and sunsets so intimately I melt. I have been deeply joyful under His authority, secure despite all circumstances. Now as I considered this interchange, all I really understood about it was that I would be willingly stepping out under another authority--one whose benevolence was hardly certain.
I looked at my Lord and said, "I need to know Your heart in this." (I didn't realize I thus fulfilled prophecy insuring my future protection, as one who inquires of the Lord. The fingers of discernment reach deep into my inward places; may it ever be so. Amen.) Then He looked at me and planted more than my son's dream in my head. He reminded me that the "accidental falling" of my son's dream had an ancient-law reflection point: in Leviticus.
Lev 4:22
When a ruler hath sinned, and done [somewhat] through ignorance [against] any of the commandments of the LORD his God [concerning things] which should not be done, and is guilty;
Lev 4:23
Or if his sin, wherein he hath sinned, come to his knowledge; he shall bring his offering, a kid of the goats, a male without blemish:
Lev 4:24
And he shall lay his hand upon the head of the goat, and kill it in the place where they kill the burnt offering before the LORD: it [is] a sin offering.
Lev 4:25
And the priest shall take of the blood of the sin offering with his finger, and put [it] upon the horns of the altar of burnt offering, and shall pour out his blood at the bottom of the altar of burnt offering.
Lev 4:27
And if any one of the common people sin through ignorance, while he doeth [somewhat against] any of the commandments of the LORD [concerning things] which ought not to be done, and be guilty;
Lev 4:28
Or if his sin, which he hath sinned, come to his knowledge: then he shall bring his offering, a kid of the goats, a female without blemish, for his sin which he hath sinned.
Somehow, this distinction between ruler and common, between male and female offered--this figured into the moment, as well as the element of inadvertence--a sin that was not intentional rebellion toward God. Then I remembered two other interchanges with my Lord that sobered me about the prospect of going through with this offering: in one, my Lord looked at me, wistfully almost, and said, "One day, you will leave me." "Oh, no!" I cried. "Never voluntarily! I love you, and our relationship--well, surely nothing could lure me away from what I have with You now." But He pressed the point, "But you must. Because you love me--this is why I can come after you." This should bolster my courage, but also haunting me was the remembrance of the dream in which my Lord looked at me with almost anguished eyes, took hold of my shoulders and said, "I hope you can forgive me for this--" and I thought of how the Father and Son must have dealt with those moments in Gethsemane. The interim time--would my heart break beyond repair in that time? Would I be able to hang on to my desire to do His will at all costs? A cost to be counted indeed.
Weighing all these in the balance, and while my courage was as yet unchallenged, I stepped across the chasm to stand beside the Adversary. Suddenly, many tiny points of soft light flew around from behind us--dots of brightness that launched across to the other side. I perceived much rejoicing ensued over their arrival.
that one who was now a dear brother-son
came back to visit me.
I'd had quite a revelation since our last communing.
For I'd learned
He was the fulfillment of an earlier dream-event.
I recorded it back in November of 2007 in a journal:
What happens after faith finds level ground? Naturally, faith faces its next challenge. For me, it came in the form of a dream again. In this one, I stood to the left of my Lord Jesus. One of His adversaries--I hesitate to ascribe it to Lucifer himself at this point--looked at Him and said, "I'll give You them for her."
I didn't know who "they" were, but hearing mention of them put me in mind of a dream Nolan had one time when he was very small. He doesn't even remember it now, but he told me then of a dream in which people were riding on a roller coaster through space on their way to heaven. But then he said, some people accidentally fell out, but they were ok because they were given some sort of pillow to land on so the fall wouldn't hurt them. Somehow this "they" reminded me of Nolan's dream.
I looked at my Lord then to see what He would say to His enemy, but He simply looked at me. Thunderstruck, I realized this was for me to decide. For several years now, I've had a deeply interactive relationship with Him. He speaks to me with "birds and lilies" with sunrises and sunsets so intimately I melt. I have been deeply joyful under His authority, secure despite all circumstances. Now as I considered this interchange, all I really understood about it was that I would be willingly stepping out under another authority--one whose benevolence was hardly certain.
I looked at my Lord and said, "I need to know Your heart in this." (I didn't realize I thus fulfilled prophecy insuring my future protection, as one who inquires of the Lord. The fingers of discernment reach deep into my inward places; may it ever be so. Amen.) Then He looked at me and planted more than my son's dream in my head. He reminded me that the "accidental falling" of my son's dream had an ancient-law reflection point: in Leviticus.
Lev 4:22
When a ruler hath sinned, and done [somewhat] through ignorance [against] any of the commandments of the LORD his God [concerning things] which should not be done, and is guilty;
Lev 4:23
Or if his sin, wherein he hath sinned, come to his knowledge; he shall bring his offering, a kid of the goats, a male without blemish:
Lev 4:24
And he shall lay his hand upon the head of the goat, and kill it in the place where they kill the burnt offering before the LORD: it [is] a sin offering.
Lev 4:25
And the priest shall take of the blood of the sin offering with his finger, and put [it] upon the horns of the altar of burnt offering, and shall pour out his blood at the bottom of the altar of burnt offering.
Lev 4:27
And if any one of the common people sin through ignorance, while he doeth [somewhat against] any of the commandments of the LORD [concerning things] which ought not to be done, and be guilty;
Lev 4:28
Or if his sin, which he hath sinned, come to his knowledge: then he shall bring his offering, a kid of the goats, a female without blemish, for his sin which he hath sinned.
Somehow, this distinction between ruler and common, between male and female offered--this figured into the moment, as well as the element of inadvertence--a sin that was not intentional rebellion toward God. Then I remembered two other interchanges with my Lord that sobered me about the prospect of going through with this offering: in one, my Lord looked at me, wistfully almost, and said, "One day, you will leave me." "Oh, no!" I cried. "Never voluntarily! I love you, and our relationship--well, surely nothing could lure me away from what I have with You now." But He pressed the point, "But you must. Because you love me--this is why I can come after you." This should bolster my courage, but also haunting me was the remembrance of the dream in which my Lord looked at me with almost anguished eyes, took hold of my shoulders and said, "I hope you can forgive me for this--" and I thought of how the Father and Son must have dealt with those moments in Gethsemane. The interim time--would my heart break beyond repair in that time? Would I be able to hang on to my desire to do His will at all costs? A cost to be counted indeed.
Weighing all these in the balance, and while my courage was as yet unchallenged, I stepped across the chasm to stand beside the Adversary. Suddenly, many tiny points of soft light flew around from behind us--dots of brightness that launched across to the other side. I perceived much rejoicing ensued over their arrival.
So I experienced then, and for 4 years now, I've lived and breathed under that watch, with little but the quiet, symbolic voice of the Spirit to guide my inner movements...and also these interchanges with the Spectre under the watch, I'd presume, of the Adversary. At the moment, I do not perceive them to be one and the same...but I may learn differently.
But a sudden knowing told me this: the things foretold were coming to be reality. He was but a firstfruit flash of all those points of light that were to know a joyful homecoming. If one could leap the chasm, then surely all predestined could come along with him. I don't know whether the one who bargained for me really believed this part of the prophecy would ever be fulfilled--I expect he believed rather that I was surely too weak and ignorant to run this mysterious race its full course, but it now appears that I did complete my "mission" and so I am pleased that my sacrifice, if you will, was not in vain! This I'd learned from the Spirit while that first star in passing had been flying about evangelizing and renewing acquaintances.
Upon his return, another revelation came as well--the happy conclusion of a heavy-hearted beginning; once again, spawn of a dream given years ago. I remembered the dream that first introduced me to the Spectre. After I saw him approaching in that starless black sky, I saw a circle of creatures praying, and there was a gap in their circle. One of them invited me to join then, and the hum of their voices sounded good to me, so I stepped into their circle; and it was as if I completed an electrical current there. I learned much after that about the call of a prophet being symbolized as that of abeing gap-filler, but at that moment of vision my only thought was, "Why this is nowhere NEAR strong enough to counter that great hulk of death-power that approaches!" And my heart has ever since carried the nugget of expectation that somehow that power would be increased.
This day, the vision of that circle, rarely one in my conscious mind of late, nevertheless returned full strength. Only now, I saw the next part of the story: I turned to the Beautiful Spectre now who stood behind my right shoulder, and I broke the circle to reach a hand of invitation toward him. His step into the circle was miraculous! That he received the invitation of vulnerable trust offered by those who once were set to defend against him--this was wonder enough; but greater still was what came of this unforeseen union! Sudden power, crackling and popping, arcing out in its excess, flaring too bright for eyes to comprehend even across the circle! Power so electrifying we almost could not hang on as it coursed from one hand to another.
I sobbed at this vision...breathing like one who is deeply shocked or else who has run a great race. "Oh, God...I never could have imagined this was what was to come!" I cried.
Your smiling response, solemn even as it was tender: "But isn't that how My work always goes?"
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
The Hike
(a fable for my husband...for Father's Day.)Once there was a man who went to a wooded park
to take a hike.
The park was large and filled with wonders
So much so that a map was drawn to guide
hikers in their rambles.
When the man arrived at the park
he received one of those maps,
and he took it to a little outdoor amphitheater
near the park's entrance.
Many people sat on wooden benches there
with all their maps spread out before them.
They discussed and debated their maps,
holding them all different directions.
They considered the best route to take.
They marveled at the nuances of the map's design
and anticipated how this would aid their hiking ventures.
The man listened for a while;
But then he grew restless,
Meanwhile the others began to argue over their maps.
They began to disagree strongly,
As some began to doubt the scale,
while others wondered
just how accurate the map could possibly be.
"Did any of you actually know the cartographer?"
Finally, some set the maps on the benches
and simply left the park entirely.
The man almost joined the arguers.Next he almost joined the leave-takers but then...
He saw a little boy,
A little boy just waiting.
"Has it always been like this?" the man asked the child.
The child looked around, assessing the atmosphere all around him.
"Pretty much," the child said, dropping his head back again
resting it on the wooden bench where he lay.
He went back to watching the clouds roll overhead.
"What do you see up there?"
the man asked, amused.
"The only thing that would look the same
if I were actually hiking," the child said.
The child's voice
--as much as his words--
gave the man thoughts of hope and sadness
Like two trees, appearing separate
but whose roots intertwine deep under the ground.
"Sometimes, I wonder how much good that map is really doing," the child observed dreamily.
"They're forgetting the point isn't the map. The map is a tool to point the way.
The point is the hike!"
The man grew adamant and became quite frustrated.
But just then, the child sat up eagerly.
"Are you going to actually...take the hike?" he asked.
"If you do, can I come along?"
And so they went.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
The Way of Treasure
Dear God...
I live in a world where people expect their pearls to float
their diamonds to be scattered across the surface of the mountain
and their gold to wash ashore on the waves.
Teach us to again the way of treasure.
I live in a world where people expect their pearls to float
their diamonds to be scattered across the surface of the mountain
and their gold to wash ashore on the waves.
Teach us to again the way of treasure.
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