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.
Showing posts with label "what do you call..." series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label "what do you call..." series. Show all posts
Saturday, April 04, 2015
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."
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Where Are You 'Under the Sun'?
I'm posting a little puzzle here. I want you to read the following, and then I'll share some of the details that prompted my quoting it. Hopefully, it will be as much of a jaw-dropper to you as it was to me.
Prayer is attractive enough when it is considered in a context of...sunny, joyous country churches. And as a matter of fact, the Church means all this. It is a class religion, the cult of a special society and group, not even of a whole nation, but of the ruling minority in a nation. That is the principal basis for its rather strong coherence up to now. There is certainly not much doctrinal unity, much less a mystical bond between people many of whom have even ceased to believe in the Sacraments. The thing that holds them together is the powerful attraction of their social traditions, and the stubborn tenacity with which they cling to certain social standards and customs, more or less for their own sake. The Church depends, for its existence, almost entirely on the solidarity and conservatism of the ruling class. Its strength is not in anything supernatural, but in the strong social and racial instincts which bind the members of this caste together; and these cling to their Church the way they cling to...a big, vague, sweet complex of subjective dispositions regarding the countryside, baseball, apple-pie, 4th of July parades and fireworks...and all those other things the mere thought of which produces a kind of a warm and inexplicable ache in the national heart.
I got mixed up in all this...and it was strong enough in me to blur and naturalize all that might have been supernatural in my attraction to pray and to love God. And consequently the grace that was given me was stifled, not at once, but gradually. As long as I lived in this peaceful hothouse atmosphere...I was pious, perhaps sincerely. But as soon as the frail walls of this illusion broke down again--...and I saw that underneath their sentimentality, these were just as brutal as the others--I made no further effort to keep up what seemed to me to be a more or less manifest pretense...
...It is a terrible thing to think of the grace that is wasted in this world...
First, I should admit to modifying the foregoing quote in one part--the imagery series that spoke of apple pies and holiday parades. The original would have given away the fact that it was not written about our time or our people, even though I say it IS written for our time and for our people. No, the original spoke of castles and games of cricket and pipe-smoking. The Church mentioned was the Church of England and the text referred to the state of affairs as the author saw it in the 1920's--reaching back nearly 100 years ago. These are the reflections of Thomas Merton, a protestant turned Trappist monk, in his autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain. I don't know about you, but I find it rather ironic that the very church from which our forefathers sought religious freedom, braving much hardship for that cause--this is the very church we today take for a model in so many ways, if Merton's observations be at all accurate.
Before we can even begin to hope to make beneficial choices about our faith-walk we must first throw off the lie that we are facing pertinent issues...the issues are not the issue. The issues change like a suit of clothing, but the body that gives them shape while being worn, that body must be recognized as ever the same old body. And the health of that body can not be changed by donning an ever more trendy and glamorous costume. Health is best assessed by standing naked before a mirror under a strong light and making careful examination of what we see.
Prayer is attractive enough when it is considered in a context of...sunny, joyous country churches. And as a matter of fact, the Church means all this. It is a class religion, the cult of a special society and group, not even of a whole nation, but of the ruling minority in a nation. That is the principal basis for its rather strong coherence up to now. There is certainly not much doctrinal unity, much less a mystical bond between people many of whom have even ceased to believe in the Sacraments. The thing that holds them together is the powerful attraction of their social traditions, and the stubborn tenacity with which they cling to certain social standards and customs, more or less for their own sake. The Church depends, for its existence, almost entirely on the solidarity and conservatism of the ruling class. Its strength is not in anything supernatural, but in the strong social and racial instincts which bind the members of this caste together; and these cling to their Church the way they cling to...a big, vague, sweet complex of subjective dispositions regarding the countryside, baseball, apple-pie, 4th of July parades and fireworks...and all those other things the mere thought of which produces a kind of a warm and inexplicable ache in the national heart.
I got mixed up in all this...and it was strong enough in me to blur and naturalize all that might have been supernatural in my attraction to pray and to love God. And consequently the grace that was given me was stifled, not at once, but gradually. As long as I lived in this peaceful hothouse atmosphere...I was pious, perhaps sincerely. But as soon as the frail walls of this illusion broke down again--...and I saw that underneath their sentimentality, these were just as brutal as the others--I made no further effort to keep up what seemed to me to be a more or less manifest pretense...
...It is a terrible thing to think of the grace that is wasted in this world...
First, I should admit to modifying the foregoing quote in one part--the imagery series that spoke of apple pies and holiday parades. The original would have given away the fact that it was not written about our time or our people, even though I say it IS written for our time and for our people. No, the original spoke of castles and games of cricket and pipe-smoking. The Church mentioned was the Church of England and the text referred to the state of affairs as the author saw it in the 1920's--reaching back nearly 100 years ago. These are the reflections of Thomas Merton, a protestant turned Trappist monk, in his autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain. I don't know about you, but I find it rather ironic that the very church from which our forefathers sought religious freedom, braving much hardship for that cause--this is the very church we today take for a model in so many ways, if Merton's observations be at all accurate.
Before we can even begin to hope to make beneficial choices about our faith-walk we must first throw off the lie that we are facing pertinent issues...the issues are not the issue. The issues change like a suit of clothing, but the body that gives them shape while being worn, that body must be recognized as ever the same old body. And the health of that body can not be changed by donning an ever more trendy and glamorous costume. Health is best assessed by standing naked before a mirror under a strong light and making careful examination of what we see.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
What Do You Call Tradition?
Dear God...I miss really "belonging" to a church. When my son comes home from college, I wish he could happily anticipate a homecoming welcome he would invariably receive from a church family he knows, rather than only having the familiarity of the building and the assurance of a good sermon to look forward to. I know You called us to this massive church for a reason, but please help me understand why these disappointments blind-side me. Is it enough to know that this is still the cry of our hearts? Are we now strong enough to re-join such a church, even though our eyes are now wide open to how great is the potential to be wounded by embracing such a membership?
One friend says: hmmmm.... I don't have any answers.
Another: Amen, and Amen. Right there with ya.
Me again: So here is my prayer--lead us to a church, O God, where people don't get suspicious, but trust YOU when we tell them You're leading us to something they don't immediately understand. Take us someplace where the people don't bite at us out of their own shame when we happen to learn things about them they didn't really want us to know. And finally, help me to allow You to re-define my take on a "valuable church life" for my children if that is part of the point of this long time in the desert.
One friend again: I miss most the sense of community from our old church, and the traditions. Sometimes I missed it so much I found myself trying to reconnect, but having such a strong discernment that I was wrong when I tried. I know we are in the right place for my family... I think my work situation makes it so very hard for me to feel part of the community of our church... much less even try to penetrate and get involved. I was able to actually go today, and I was already grieving the fact that I can only go one more Sunday before fall back into my weekend routine again. My prayer is aligned with yours... with a request to find community within my own church throughout the week.
A third friend: I will pray with you. More than 10 years ago God led me to the congregation I am part of now. IT IS A BLESSING EVERY DAY TO BE A PART OF THEM. He will lead your family to the green pastures that will satisfy your needs and longings. Love you.
And a fourth: I am so with you! We still haven't found a place to call home. It makes me sad!
Me again: Years ago in my hometown, my testimony of church life was just like yours is now. I long for that again so much! Ans, Erin, my heart goes out to you. I know what you mean, wondering what God's after in the way church figures in the walk you and family make as you go about following Him. Sometimes it is so hard to be in that time when you know you're learning, you just don't know quite WHAT you're learning yet. For now, I have to be content to wait for the epiphany. :D
This was a Facebook conversation that basically reached into the heart of my pining for tradition and its blessings on myself and those others who respect it. I shared that pining with caring friends and with my Maker.
I've known something was afoot in this even before I had this conversation, and prayed to understand it. The first layer peeled on this spiritual onion, and the deadest layer, came in the form of a devotion I read. In that devotion, the author reflected on how great an impact it made on his young soul when he heard his WWII-era school teacher pray her Thanksgiving prayer despite having just lost her husband in the battles.
It occurred to me that my own elementary school days in the 60's were already beyond the era when teachers prayed public prayers in public schools. I did not have that "location" as a place for God to speak into my spirit in ways that would last a lifetime. I'm sure this devotion author could have constructed the same dirge I did, only about prayer in schools. I (having never experienced it) never fully understood all the "fuss" about the loss of prayer in schools other than as a territorial loss in the land of the spirit. I understand better now.
More importantly, I see that the Spirit of God simply found other venues to speak into my heart, venues to replace the one I never even suspected existed, let alone lost. Should my children lose what I once knew as the beauty of church-life, I can now rest assured that God is clever and resourceful enough to find another venue to permeate their souls with grace as well. Didn't I always know it? Yet, God sends gentle reminders when my misty eyes beg them.
Quoting the book of Job, I can now say with all the greater appreciation:
All the while my breath [is] in me, the spirit of God [is] in my nostrils; Psalm 27:3
The best "tradition" of all is simply the tradition of God finding an inroad to the human heart. This is a beginning of peace.
One friend says: hmmmm.... I don't have any answers.
Another: Amen, and Amen. Right there with ya.
Me again: So here is my prayer--lead us to a church, O God, where people don't get suspicious, but trust YOU when we tell them You're leading us to something they don't immediately understand. Take us someplace where the people don't bite at us out of their own shame when we happen to learn things about them they didn't really want us to know. And finally, help me to allow You to re-define my take on a "valuable church life" for my children if that is part of the point of this long time in the desert.
One friend again: I miss most the sense of community from our old church, and the traditions. Sometimes I missed it so much I found myself trying to reconnect, but having such a strong discernment that I was wrong when I tried. I know we are in the right place for my family... I think my work situation makes it so very hard for me to feel part of the community of our church... much less even try to penetrate and get involved. I was able to actually go today, and I was already grieving the fact that I can only go one more Sunday before fall back into my weekend routine again. My prayer is aligned with yours... with a request to find community within my own church throughout the week.
A third friend: I will pray with you. More than 10 years ago God led me to the congregation I am part of now. IT IS A BLESSING EVERY DAY TO BE A PART OF THEM. He will lead your family to the green pastures that will satisfy your needs and longings. Love you.
And a fourth: I am so with you! We still haven't found a place to call home. It makes me sad!
Me again: Years ago in my hometown, my testimony of church life was just like yours is now. I long for that again so much! Ans, Erin, my heart goes out to you. I know what you mean, wondering what God's after in the way church figures in the walk you and family make as you go about following Him. Sometimes it is so hard to be in that time when you know you're learning, you just don't know quite WHAT you're learning yet. For now, I have to be content to wait for the epiphany. :D
This was a Facebook conversation that basically reached into the heart of my pining for tradition and its blessings on myself and those others who respect it. I shared that pining with caring friends and with my Maker.
I've known something was afoot in this even before I had this conversation, and prayed to understand it. The first layer peeled on this spiritual onion, and the deadest layer, came in the form of a devotion I read. In that devotion, the author reflected on how great an impact it made on his young soul when he heard his WWII-era school teacher pray her Thanksgiving prayer despite having just lost her husband in the battles.
It occurred to me that my own elementary school days in the 60's were already beyond the era when teachers prayed public prayers in public schools. I did not have that "location" as a place for God to speak into my spirit in ways that would last a lifetime. I'm sure this devotion author could have constructed the same dirge I did, only about prayer in schools. I (having never experienced it) never fully understood all the "fuss" about the loss of prayer in schools other than as a territorial loss in the land of the spirit. I understand better now.
More importantly, I see that the Spirit of God simply found other venues to speak into my heart, venues to replace the one I never even suspected existed, let alone lost. Should my children lose what I once knew as the beauty of church-life, I can now rest assured that God is clever and resourceful enough to find another venue to permeate their souls with grace as well. Didn't I always know it? Yet, God sends gentle reminders when my misty eyes beg them.
Quoting the book of Job, I can now say with all the greater appreciation:
All the while my breath [is] in me, the spirit of God [is] in my nostrils; Psalm 27:3
The best "tradition" of all is simply the tradition of God finding an inroad to the human heart. This is a beginning of peace.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Third Time's a Charm; on What Do You Call Giving?
In the end, this is the crossroads where I stand: and ironically, I've found my way to it thanks to the caring input of some pastors' wives. ;)
I'm excited to have a new way to look at "marrying" a church--it may mean that we stay where we are or that we leave--but this is it: if you can't trust a church with 10% of what you make, then you need to find a different church. We've never allowed money to be a factor in church selection. Now it looks like we're being told to make it a leading factor. Interesting.
As I reflect on that idea, I know that I have tithed consistently when I have been in churches where I've personally known leadership and pastors, in those cases giving while knowing that in part my gift pays to keep them leading me, has been an honor.
I've tithed where I've deeply known the people, where I know my giving supports their ministry passions as well as my own.
I've tithed where I've had the invite to hear the hearts of the finance committees as they hash out their budgets, for I can believe they want to be responsible with my gift seeing I am allowed to watch as they handle it.
But I've only been to a couple of churches where that scenario was the case, and it's been quite a while. These are the churches where giving 10% might have been challenging, but not because I worried I was being irresponsible as I gave my tithe. In those places, I wasn't ignorant of how it was being used. Those places weren't such large-scale business operations that money moved like a monsoon rather than a gentle rain. Maybe I'm not built for mega-church life. Maybe my past hurts go deep enough that I need to be more than just one of thousands of bricks in the financial wall of my local church. Maybe one of the reasons God led me to this place was to reveal where I'm needy in this way. At least for a season, I'm needy. So now my prayer is God help us find a place where we can really trust those around us (which implies really knowing them.)...trust that even if people really "see" us they'll stay in relationship with us and will continue to trust us, as well! I know it is in my heart to support the ministry passion of someone whose heart I deeply know, I'm just not mature enough to "cheerfully" support one that offers me no more access to its reality than just one block in a brochure and an envelope for my gift.
I'm realizing that as we went close to a year searching for a church home, we experienced a season in which we had the freedom to do our giving wherever the Spirit led for we had no real home to be called to support, and this has revealed another area where I need to do some poking. You see, I find I like gift-giving, but I hate just giving a gift card. And now that we're looking at seriously building an attachment with a church again, Idiscover that my attitude toward the rule of giving is selfish. The "rule" is you have to give a "10% giftcard" first--needed, but highly impersonal. Then with any extra money you have you can consider the kind of gift-shopping that has a personal touch. For me, the "sacrificial giving" part of starting to tithe to a specific church again will be sacrificing that joy I find in shopping, wrapping and presenting. May God find another source for any giving I've been doing that will now have to be abandoned as this era of free-giving comes to a close. (Or at least goes on hiatus until He multiplies my opportunities after I prove myself faithful, eh?)
I know when I was in church leadership, it never occurred to me that members were making this type of "sacrifice" when they filled out their envelopes, week after week, but I'm starting to see it now. I wish I could go back and thank them from that direction specifically. I know we could do this sort of giving, though. It's just a matter of rebuilding trust. I shared with Scott the story of the open air church that built its facilities with its priorities set on giving 50% of what came in to missions. I agree with my husband when he immediately and whole-heartedly said, "I could give 10% to that church!"
At least I know God is using "time and chance" (as Solomon put it) toreveal something wonderful and new to us. I'm reading Swindoll's words on being a servant (got from a garage sale) and two books on relationships with the homeless (on loan from a friend.) I'm attending a volunteer orientation at the end of the month about helping the teen homeless population downtown (learned of the group from the church newsletter) and to my wonder I'm serving on a Discipleship Walk in the fall alongside someone who moved downtown to start a church and do work with the homeless and impoverished. I don't know her yet, but I can't wait to be introduced! It's all starting to come into focus.
As we stand at this Crorssroads, may the wind of Your Spirit drive us in Your chosen direction; and if its not too much to ask, may that route lead us to a church of worthwhile industry where we might do more than just sojourn for a while. More interesting time and chance stuff: the service in which my husband played drums last week is designated as the Sojourn service at our current church. Sojourn by definition means, "a temporary stay." Indeed, I do feel a breeze kicking up. ;)
Commentary on this one was all my own, although some comments had moved to the private message domain. Certainly a topic people don't hesitate to discuss "outside" the church anyway.
Deborah Way: as I told a friend, "when I left my ranting and went to my servanthood Bible study, today's chapter had verses that seemed hand-picked by God for me today." Here's a sample:
10 By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. 11 For no one ... See Morecan lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. 12 If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, 13 his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work. 14 If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. 15 If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames. I Cor 3. (Swindoll points out that "We humans are impressed with size and volume and noise and numbers...God's eye is always on motive, authenticity, the real truth beneath the surface." This seems to be a sharpening lens on the question of is bigger [mega-church] always better, or rather is it always more deserving?)
"...these may forget, but I [God] will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me..." Isa 49:15-16. (I think of the walls He's pointing out in me.)
And finally, if all else fails and we can't find that place where the "giving is good," I have this to consider: For God is not unjust so as to forget your hard work for him, or forget the way you used to show your love for him--and still do--by helping his children. (Hebrews 6:10)
SO, if we remain locked to churches where tithing feels sadly like little more than a form of enslavement, then God says, Take heart!
(Eph 6:7) Work with enthusiasm, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people. 8 Remember that the Lord will reward each one of us for the good we do, whether we are slaves or free.
9 And in the same way, you masters must treat your slaves right. Don't threaten them; remember, you both have the same Master in heaven, and he has no favorites. 10 A final word: Be strong with the Lord's mighty power.
"A final word," eh? I guess we're done here. ;)
I'm excited to have a new way to look at "marrying" a church--it may mean that we stay where we are or that we leave--but this is it: if you can't trust a church with 10% of what you make, then you need to find a different church. We've never allowed money to be a factor in church selection. Now it looks like we're being told to make it a leading factor. Interesting.
As I reflect on that idea, I know that I have tithed consistently when I have been in churches where I've personally known leadership and pastors, in those cases giving while knowing that in part my gift pays to keep them leading me, has been an honor.
I've tithed where I've deeply known the people, where I know my giving supports their ministry passions as well as my own.
I've tithed where I've had the invite to hear the hearts of the finance committees as they hash out their budgets, for I can believe they want to be responsible with my gift seeing I am allowed to watch as they handle it.
But I've only been to a couple of churches where that scenario was the case, and it's been quite a while. These are the churches where giving 10% might have been challenging, but not because I worried I was being irresponsible as I gave my tithe. In those places, I wasn't ignorant of how it was being used. Those places weren't such large-scale business operations that money moved like a monsoon rather than a gentle rain. Maybe I'm not built for mega-church life. Maybe my past hurts go deep enough that I need to be more than just one of thousands of bricks in the financial wall of my local church. Maybe one of the reasons God led me to this place was to reveal where I'm needy in this way. At least for a season, I'm needy. So now my prayer is God help us find a place where we can really trust those around us (which implies really knowing them.)...trust that even if people really "see" us they'll stay in relationship with us and will continue to trust us, as well! I know it is in my heart to support the ministry passion of someone whose heart I deeply know, I'm just not mature enough to "cheerfully" support one that offers me no more access to its reality than just one block in a brochure and an envelope for my gift.
I'm realizing that as we went close to a year searching for a church home, we experienced a season in which we had the freedom to do our giving wherever the Spirit led for we had no real home to be called to support, and this has revealed another area where I need to do some poking. You see, I find I like gift-giving, but I hate just giving a gift card. And now that we're looking at seriously building an attachment with a church again, Idiscover that my attitude toward the rule of giving is selfish. The "rule" is you have to give a "10% giftcard" first--needed, but highly impersonal. Then with any extra money you have you can consider the kind of gift-shopping that has a personal touch. For me, the "sacrificial giving" part of starting to tithe to a specific church again will be sacrificing that joy I find in shopping, wrapping and presenting. May God find another source for any giving I've been doing that will now have to be abandoned as this era of free-giving comes to a close. (Or at least goes on hiatus until He multiplies my opportunities after I prove myself faithful, eh?)
I know when I was in church leadership, it never occurred to me that members were making this type of "sacrifice" when they filled out their envelopes, week after week, but I'm starting to see it now. I wish I could go back and thank them from that direction specifically. I know we could do this sort of giving, though. It's just a matter of rebuilding trust. I shared with Scott the story of the open air church that built its facilities with its priorities set on giving 50% of what came in to missions. I agree with my husband when he immediately and whole-heartedly said, "I could give 10% to that church!"
At least I know God is using "time and chance" (as Solomon put it) toreveal something wonderful and new to us. I'm reading Swindoll's words on being a servant (got from a garage sale) and two books on relationships with the homeless (on loan from a friend.) I'm attending a volunteer orientation at the end of the month about helping the teen homeless population downtown (learned of the group from the church newsletter) and to my wonder I'm serving on a Discipleship Walk in the fall alongside someone who moved downtown to start a church and do work with the homeless and impoverished. I don't know her yet, but I can't wait to be introduced! It's all starting to come into focus.
As we stand at this Crorssroads, may the wind of Your Spirit drive us in Your chosen direction; and if its not too much to ask, may that route lead us to a church of worthwhile industry where we might do more than just sojourn for a while. More interesting time and chance stuff: the service in which my husband played drums last week is designated as the Sojourn service at our current church. Sojourn by definition means, "a temporary stay." Indeed, I do feel a breeze kicking up. ;)
Commentary on this one was all my own, although some comments had moved to the private message domain. Certainly a topic people don't hesitate to discuss "outside" the church anyway.
Deborah Way: as I told a friend, "when I left my ranting and went to my servanthood Bible study, today's chapter had verses that seemed hand-picked by God for me today." Here's a sample:
10 By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds. 11 For no one ... See Morecan lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. 12 If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, 13 his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work. 14 If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. 15 If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames. I Cor 3. (Swindoll points out that "We humans are impressed with size and volume and noise and numbers...God's eye is always on motive, authenticity, the real truth beneath the surface." This seems to be a sharpening lens on the question of is bigger [mega-church] always better, or rather is it always more deserving?)
"...these may forget, but I [God] will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me..." Isa 49:15-16. (I think of the walls He's pointing out in me.)
And finally, if all else fails and we can't find that place where the "giving is good," I have this to consider: For God is not unjust so as to forget your hard work for him, or forget the way you used to show your love for him--and still do--by helping his children. (Hebrews 6:10)
SO, if we remain locked to churches where tithing feels sadly like little more than a form of enslavement, then God says, Take heart!
(Eph 6:7) Work with enthusiasm, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people. 8 Remember that the Lord will reward each one of us for the good we do, whether we are slaves or free.
9 And in the same way, you masters must treat your slaves right. Don't threaten them; remember, you both have the same Master in heaven, and he has no favorites. 10 A final word: Be strong with the Lord's mighty power.
"A final word," eh? I guess we're done here. ;)
Take Two on What Do You Call Giving?
I'm still burdened for the one I called the "wounded giver". But I see I need to define him a little more clearly. He is not grossly selfish, nor is he mistrustful of God, but he is an enigma. Many people have been richly blessed as a result of their giving, so they often don't notice him; or if they do, they don't really understand him. He is the church pew equivalent of a homeless man. Often, people figure he must be "doing something wrong" in his giving. Nevertheless, he exists, often continuing to try to give. But he is the one for whom giving is like being told to put his hand on a hot stove...again and again. For some, the stove eventually proves too great a deterrent. I agree that giving is obedience and worship, so help me understand these two more wounded giver stories?
1) A pastor uses profanity with the receptionist at the BMW dealership where his car is being repaired. Is it obedience to promote his employment as God's representative if this is the norm of his "outside the pulpit" lifestyle? (Shall we make allowances that it was a bad day? That even those who choose to be held to the exemplary standard of the life of the cloth have bad days? Shall we also make allowance for the fact that, when confronted with his profanity as he picked up his car he most likely lied when he said it was actually his brother who was cursing on the phone, not him.)
2) Finally, after all these second-hand stories, I'll speak for myself. Some years ago, I had my tithe automatically deducted from my paycheck once by the church-school where I worked. I missed three Sundays straight when my eldest son was a toddler because he was in Ft. Worth Children's Hospital during that time. I didn't know about the deduction until I saw my depleted check and inquired. "We knew it was what you would want to do," was the answer I got. They were right, but they destroyed my opportunity for obedience, for how is it obedience if you don't have a choice? And is it worship if you only come aware of it after its done for you? (I was too young and naive to know that what they did was illegal. And, that they would shamelessly do something financially illegal doesn't speak too well of their sense of responsibility toward being trustworthy either.)
Trust lost, honor misplaced. What to do about it?
Indeed, I haven't heard it preached on in this setting, so I'm going out on a limb here. I have no theology to base this upon, just an instinct. Hopefully a spiritual one. For a person to share what God has entrusted to his or her care, this is a condition of relationship; and whether the church accepts this or not, it is thereby in a damageable relationship with a tither. The more the tither's income hovers near bare sustenance levels, the greater the potential for that damage.
Any therapist can tell you the steps for rebuilding trust in a damaged relationship. Here are the first few that I know:
1) Admit that the wounded party has a valid reason for mistrust. Don't be defensive, don't project and don't turn the tables on the tither in a passive-aggressive fashion.
2) Quit using "It all belongs to God" to minimize or even discount entirely the fact that the giver had a choice. In a "human" relationship such marginalization would be considered emotionally abusive.
3) Be financially transparent during the rebuilding stage if such a stage can occur and legitimately receptive to observations made by the wounded party during that stage.
4) Allow that it might take some time to get to that place where you both want to be.
Wishful thinking...but at least maybe I'll sleep now..
Commentary for this one read:
Deborah Way: a friend sent me this in a msg. Sharing it because it is a better conclusion than I have been drawing, but allowing her to remain anonymous:
"I fully agree with your premise. There ARE pastors who abuse their responsible position. I have definitely witnessed it here at a large church in FW. However God has intervened and the church is basically ... See Moregone now.. It is too complicated to go into all the details but God will NOT be mocked and people cannot continue to use God's children, I just want the decisions about whether to stay or go to be based on Truth and God's specific leading rather than on appearances. I trust you. I was just making a point. Thanks for listening and God bless you as you decide."
Sadly, when the "church" gets the blame for abuses, you can't sift out the good pastors and pastors' wives and set them aside so they don't have to hear something you've repressed over the years and need to get out. Only by a sad warping of the Gospel are people taught to share the pains affecting their personality...except wherer those pains relate to the church, then they are still taught to be ashamed to speak of them. Thanks to my friends who have walked this path of self-discovery with me--listening deeply, but telling me where they think I'm wandering off into the brush. Writing a last note on this...what good is Armageddon without a New Jerusalem?
Steven M Grochowsky: I like what you're writing and am interested in seeing where it goes further... for the nonce, I think I'll withhold any comment out of personal experience, but I will pass along a wonderful lyric from Mary-Chapin Carpenter that seems relevant:
I sat alone in the dark one night, tuning in by remote
I found a preacher who spoke of the light but there was brimstone in his throat
He'd show me the way according to him in return for my personal check... See More
I flipped my channel back to CNN and I lit another cigarette
I take my chances, forgiveness doesn't come with a debt...
Deborah Way: Yo, Steve. I put a last note of "where it goes further" on this morning. Dare I say, that lyric is the song of exactly the people for whom I'm feeling the burden to speak.
Steven M Grochowsky: "The church is still a sinful institution," a Benedictine monk wrote to me when I was struggling over whether or not to join a church. "How could it be otherwise?" he asked, and I was startled into a recognition of simple truth. The church is like the Incarnation itself, a shaky proposition. It is a human institution, full of ordinary people, ... See Moresinners like me, who do and say cruel, stupid things. But it is also a divinely inspired institution, full of good purpose, which partakes of a unity far greater than the sum of its parts. That is why it is called the Body of Christ.
Kathleen Norris, "Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith."
1) A pastor uses profanity with the receptionist at the BMW dealership where his car is being repaired. Is it obedience to promote his employment as God's representative if this is the norm of his "outside the pulpit" lifestyle? (Shall we make allowances that it was a bad day? That even those who choose to be held to the exemplary standard of the life of the cloth have bad days? Shall we also make allowance for the fact that, when confronted with his profanity as he picked up his car he most likely lied when he said it was actually his brother who was cursing on the phone, not him.)
2) Finally, after all these second-hand stories, I'll speak for myself. Some years ago, I had my tithe automatically deducted from my paycheck once by the church-school where I worked. I missed three Sundays straight when my eldest son was a toddler because he was in Ft. Worth Children's Hospital during that time. I didn't know about the deduction until I saw my depleted check and inquired. "We knew it was what you would want to do," was the answer I got. They were right, but they destroyed my opportunity for obedience, for how is it obedience if you don't have a choice? And is it worship if you only come aware of it after its done for you? (I was too young and naive to know that what they did was illegal. And, that they would shamelessly do something financially illegal doesn't speak too well of their sense of responsibility toward being trustworthy either.)
Trust lost, honor misplaced. What to do about it?
Indeed, I haven't heard it preached on in this setting, so I'm going out on a limb here. I have no theology to base this upon, just an instinct. Hopefully a spiritual one. For a person to share what God has entrusted to his or her care, this is a condition of relationship; and whether the church accepts this or not, it is thereby in a damageable relationship with a tither. The more the tither's income hovers near bare sustenance levels, the greater the potential for that damage.
Any therapist can tell you the steps for rebuilding trust in a damaged relationship. Here are the first few that I know:
1) Admit that the wounded party has a valid reason for mistrust. Don't be defensive, don't project and don't turn the tables on the tither in a passive-aggressive fashion.
2) Quit using "It all belongs to God" to minimize or even discount entirely the fact that the giver had a choice. In a "human" relationship such marginalization would be considered emotionally abusive.
3) Be financially transparent during the rebuilding stage if such a stage can occur and legitimately receptive to observations made by the wounded party during that stage.
4) Allow that it might take some time to get to that place where you both want to be.
Wishful thinking...but at least maybe I'll sleep now..
Commentary for this one read:
Deborah Way: a friend sent me this in a msg. Sharing it because it is a better conclusion than I have been drawing, but allowing her to remain anonymous:
"I fully agree with your premise. There ARE pastors who abuse their responsible position. I have definitely witnessed it here at a large church in FW. However God has intervened and the church is basically ... See Moregone now.. It is too complicated to go into all the details but God will NOT be mocked and people cannot continue to use God's children, I just want the decisions about whether to stay or go to be based on Truth and God's specific leading rather than on appearances. I trust you. I was just making a point. Thanks for listening and God bless you as you decide."
Sadly, when the "church" gets the blame for abuses, you can't sift out the good pastors and pastors' wives and set them aside so they don't have to hear something you've repressed over the years and need to get out. Only by a sad warping of the Gospel are people taught to share the pains affecting their personality...except wherer those pains relate to the church, then they are still taught to be ashamed to speak of them. Thanks to my friends who have walked this path of self-discovery with me--listening deeply, but telling me where they think I'm wandering off into the brush. Writing a last note on this...what good is Armageddon without a New Jerusalem?
Steven M Grochowsky: I like what you're writing and am interested in seeing where it goes further... for the nonce, I think I'll withhold any comment out of personal experience, but I will pass along a wonderful lyric from Mary-Chapin Carpenter that seems relevant:
I sat alone in the dark one night, tuning in by remote
I found a preacher who spoke of the light but there was brimstone in his throat
He'd show me the way according to him in return for my personal check... See More
I flipped my channel back to CNN and I lit another cigarette
I take my chances, forgiveness doesn't come with a debt...
Deborah Way: Yo, Steve. I put a last note of "where it goes further" on this morning. Dare I say, that lyric is the song of exactly the people for whom I'm feeling the burden to speak.
Steven M Grochowsky: "The church is still a sinful institution," a Benedictine monk wrote to me when I was struggling over whether or not to join a church. "How could it be otherwise?" he asked, and I was startled into a recognition of simple truth. The church is like the Incarnation itself, a shaky proposition. It is a human institution, full of ordinary people, ... See Moresinners like me, who do and say cruel, stupid things. But it is also a divinely inspired institution, full of good purpose, which partakes of a unity far greater than the sum of its parts. That is why it is called the Body of Christ.
Kathleen Norris, "Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith."
What Do You Call Giving? (part 1)
Last Sunday we heard the following preached: Americans only give 2% to their local churches, and God says it all belongs to Him, so since He said we should be giving 10%, then we should be giving 10%. Everyone oohed and aahed about what amazing things the church was doing with that 2% and just imagine what it could do with 10? All that is true. But the service felt like it presented a fine piece of unfinished furniture for display. So here's my letter about that to the pastor:
Dear Pastor,
I really appreciated the sermon on generously giving, cheerfully giving. I appreciated the inserts from the financial planner who helps us to feel empowered to do that cheerful, generous giving; but there are a couple of points that I don't think made it into the 4-week series, and I would love to see them addressed.
1. "Americans don't give" is an assumption that can not be made based simply by considering the stat that only 2% of earnings are going to the local church. As of January, American's had, in fact, given $3 million via text messaging to the Red Cross for Haiti relief.
( http://www.dailyfinance.com/story/americans-give-record-3-million-via-text-messages-for-haiti-rel/19316813/ )
The point to dwell on is not "why don't Americans give" because they do; the point to labor over is "why don't Americans trust the church to be the clearing house for their giving the same way they trust the Red Cross?" But that smacks of self-examination on the part of the church, a stance rarely taken during stewardship drives. ;)
2. You outlined traits of various non-givers. Many fail to give, you said, either because they weren't sure how to start charitable giving and/or they lacked the faith to give sacrificially. Then, of course, there are those who simply don't believe it really IS all God's, who worked hard for what they have and are justified in being selfish with it. But I believe you missed a large demographic group. If I were to give them a label, I'd call them the "wounded givers". They've given sacrificially, consistently, even cheerfully, and been horrifically burned. Here are some shapshots of their lives:
In things natural, it wounds people to learn that, while they're eating balogna sandwiches in order to write checks to the church, the money they put in the offering goes to pay for the twin Jaguars that Pastor and Mrs. Pastor use to toodle around town. (Pastor and Mrs. Pastor won't touch balogna.) These Givers hear a sermon about "It's all God's," and the first thing to hit the poor schmucks is guilt for having enabled such irresponsible usage of their offering. Even that response depends on their getting past wearing the blinders they've been commanded to wear as their spiritual leaders claim, "My wealth IS my witness. People see how well God is taking care of me, and they want to know more about Him." There are more laymen out there in churches like these than you'd ever imagine! But if they poke their heads out of that rabbit-hole, they're quickly trounced for being irreverent.
In things supernatural, it wounds people to hear "Test God. See if He doesn't give back into your coffers, heaping them up to overflowing!" So these tentative, hopeful givers give all they have. We don't like to follow their story beyond the offering bucket, buit if we do, we might easily see that within 3 days they are mysteriously robbed, the victims of burglars for the first time in their lives. What's more, several things they can't afford to fix or replace break in that same week, expensive things, necessary things. If you take the time to ask them, and if they trust you enough to give you a straight answer, they'd probably tell you that in the end, you were right. He did give back an abundant blessing. But the frontload of testing God looks deeply dangerous, and the backload of blessing--why it might not be monetary at all, although the blessing and riches were worth more than money. Most of us don't hear this part of the story because by the time these wounded givers realize the way God works, they've likely moved on from talking to the one making tunnel-vision promises anyway. Their way of giving fought and defeated its enemy alone--by human measure, and on a supernatural plane. Now their giving activity--while quite real--could hardly be classified on a spread sheet or even perceived by many. Nevertheless, when they were land-locked and still learning, why didn't anyone tell them the real parameters of "giving and receiving" in the first place?
So, when the concluding question of the sermon series came up, "Do you trust God enough to give? It's His money anyway." it just felt like the wrong question. Here's the question I want to hear sermonized and then left for me to ponder: "Do you trust people enough to give them the part of God's money that's been entrusted to you?" To simply think people don't give is naive and self-deluding.
I genuinely believe and have full confidence that if you took the time to meditate and seek God's mind on this topic, this question; we'd hear something deeply powerful from you!
Sincerely yours,
...from one who direct-gives to charities and as the wind of the Spirit leads and sometimes to church, but mostly anonymously with cash.
Commentary ran as follows:
Kari Hallett Miller: I'm pretty hardcore about this. I believe that scripture is pretty clear that the tithe belongs to the church, and above and beyond offerings can go anywhere you want.
I also don't belive we give to God to get financial awards. We give because it is an act of obedience and worship.
I would also posit that perhaps people are not in the right body if they cannot trust the leadership to deal well with their money.
2 people liked this response
Me: Kari...I agree. As pastors, you and Paul are the saving grace that counter balances these churches of excess I describe. And they aren't a fabrication. I have personally attended a few of them! And I agree that a tithe is a tithe, it's just sometimes you wonder whether you're really pouring it into a "church" or into something else. I wish that question and what to do about it got talked about more often than it does! Then maybe people would start giving their "millions" back to the church to distribute.
Deborah Way ...but you give me something to think about. Is it time to look at the trust factor we have for our church. To be really bare naked about it, I have a difficult time hearing someone tell me to give them money and quit being so consumption-minded when he just hopped out of a Lexus. I need to pray about whether that's something that's wrong with my attitude or something wrong with where we're attending. Keep me honest, Kari! I love you...
Kari Hallett Miller: Keep thinking! When I worked at CPC we had a program where people donated cars. Our two top executives drove Lexus' that had been donated...why? Because, when dealing with multi-millionaire donors they wouldn't even be heard without a status car...pretty sad, but true. I guess with the pastor I would ask, was the car a gift, a dream he has been... See More saving for for years and paid cash, is it used and he got a fantastic deal, or is it an outlandish expenditure? Ask to take a look at the church financials. How much are they giving to missions? How much is being given to run ministries in the church? How much to salaries? All are part of spreading the gospel, but it should give you some idea of a balance.
That being said, one of the reasons I love the head guy of the Indiana Assemblies of God is that even though he is the "top of the foodchain" so to speak, he still drives his Chevy Malibu. That makes me trust him a little more.
I know the excesses exist. I see them. I know churches that embody them. However, don't let that stop you from obeying God. Even if you have to examine they whys and wheres of how you can do that.
Me: Thanks, Kari...I think I'm getting a little closer to what I was actually wanting my words to say. I'm doing a part 2 on that note. I still feel a burden for those "wounded givers" I mentioned. Sharing what God gave to you is very much like a personal relationship--and that's the real place that I need to examine.
Dear Pastor,
I really appreciated the sermon on generously giving, cheerfully giving. I appreciated the inserts from the financial planner who helps us to feel empowered to do that cheerful, generous giving; but there are a couple of points that I don't think made it into the 4-week series, and I would love to see them addressed.
1. "Americans don't give" is an assumption that can not be made based simply by considering the stat that only 2% of earnings are going to the local church. As of January, American's had, in fact, given $3 million via text messaging to the Red Cross for Haiti relief.
( http://www.dailyfinance.com/story/americans-give-record-3-million-via-text-messages-for-haiti-rel/19316813/ )
The point to dwell on is not "why don't Americans give" because they do; the point to labor over is "why don't Americans trust the church to be the clearing house for their giving the same way they trust the Red Cross?" But that smacks of self-examination on the part of the church, a stance rarely taken during stewardship drives. ;)
2. You outlined traits of various non-givers. Many fail to give, you said, either because they weren't sure how to start charitable giving and/or they lacked the faith to give sacrificially. Then, of course, there are those who simply don't believe it really IS all God's, who worked hard for what they have and are justified in being selfish with it. But I believe you missed a large demographic group. If I were to give them a label, I'd call them the "wounded givers". They've given sacrificially, consistently, even cheerfully, and been horrifically burned. Here are some shapshots of their lives:
In things natural, it wounds people to learn that, while they're eating balogna sandwiches in order to write checks to the church, the money they put in the offering goes to pay for the twin Jaguars that Pastor and Mrs. Pastor use to toodle around town. (Pastor and Mrs. Pastor won't touch balogna.) These Givers hear a sermon about "It's all God's," and the first thing to hit the poor schmucks is guilt for having enabled such irresponsible usage of their offering. Even that response depends on their getting past wearing the blinders they've been commanded to wear as their spiritual leaders claim, "My wealth IS my witness. People see how well God is taking care of me, and they want to know more about Him." There are more laymen out there in churches like these than you'd ever imagine! But if they poke their heads out of that rabbit-hole, they're quickly trounced for being irreverent.
In things supernatural, it wounds people to hear "Test God. See if He doesn't give back into your coffers, heaping them up to overflowing!" So these tentative, hopeful givers give all they have. We don't like to follow their story beyond the offering bucket, buit if we do, we might easily see that within 3 days they are mysteriously robbed, the victims of burglars for the first time in their lives. What's more, several things they can't afford to fix or replace break in that same week, expensive things, necessary things. If you take the time to ask them, and if they trust you enough to give you a straight answer, they'd probably tell you that in the end, you were right. He did give back an abundant blessing. But the frontload of testing God looks deeply dangerous, and the backload of blessing--why it might not be monetary at all, although the blessing and riches were worth more than money. Most of us don't hear this part of the story because by the time these wounded givers realize the way God works, they've likely moved on from talking to the one making tunnel-vision promises anyway. Their way of giving fought and defeated its enemy alone--by human measure, and on a supernatural plane. Now their giving activity--while quite real--could hardly be classified on a spread sheet or even perceived by many. Nevertheless, when they were land-locked and still learning, why didn't anyone tell them the real parameters of "giving and receiving" in the first place?
So, when the concluding question of the sermon series came up, "Do you trust God enough to give? It's His money anyway." it just felt like the wrong question. Here's the question I want to hear sermonized and then left for me to ponder: "Do you trust people enough to give them the part of God's money that's been entrusted to you?" To simply think people don't give is naive and self-deluding.
I genuinely believe and have full confidence that if you took the time to meditate and seek God's mind on this topic, this question; we'd hear something deeply powerful from you!
Sincerely yours,
...from one who direct-gives to charities and as the wind of the Spirit leads and sometimes to church, but mostly anonymously with cash.
Commentary ran as follows:
Kari Hallett Miller: I'm pretty hardcore about this. I believe that scripture is pretty clear that the tithe belongs to the church, and above and beyond offerings can go anywhere you want.
I also don't belive we give to God to get financial awards. We give because it is an act of obedience and worship.
I would also posit that perhaps people are not in the right body if they cannot trust the leadership to deal well with their money.
2 people liked this response
Me: Kari...I agree. As pastors, you and Paul are the saving grace that counter balances these churches of excess I describe. And they aren't a fabrication. I have personally attended a few of them! And I agree that a tithe is a tithe, it's just sometimes you wonder whether you're really pouring it into a "church" or into something else. I wish that question and what to do about it got talked about more often than it does! Then maybe people would start giving their "millions" back to the church to distribute.
Deborah Way ...but you give me something to think about. Is it time to look at the trust factor we have for our church. To be really bare naked about it, I have a difficult time hearing someone tell me to give them money and quit being so consumption-minded when he just hopped out of a Lexus. I need to pray about whether that's something that's wrong with my attitude or something wrong with where we're attending. Keep me honest, Kari! I love you...
Kari Hallett Miller: Keep thinking! When I worked at CPC we had a program where people donated cars. Our two top executives drove Lexus' that had been donated...why? Because, when dealing with multi-millionaire donors they wouldn't even be heard without a status car...pretty sad, but true. I guess with the pastor I would ask, was the car a gift, a dream he has been... See More saving for for years and paid cash, is it used and he got a fantastic deal, or is it an outlandish expenditure? Ask to take a look at the church financials. How much are they giving to missions? How much is being given to run ministries in the church? How much to salaries? All are part of spreading the gospel, but it should give you some idea of a balance.
That being said, one of the reasons I love the head guy of the Indiana Assemblies of God is that even though he is the "top of the foodchain" so to speak, he still drives his Chevy Malibu. That makes me trust him a little more.
I know the excesses exist. I see them. I know churches that embody them. However, don't let that stop you from obeying God. Even if you have to examine they whys and wheres of how you can do that.
Me: Thanks, Kari...I think I'm getting a little closer to what I was actually wanting my words to say. I'm doing a part 2 on that note. I still feel a burden for those "wounded givers" I mentioned. Sharing what God gave to you is very much like a personal relationship--and that's the real place that I need to examine.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
What Do You Call Transformation?
In the last week or so, I've come across the song, Ring of Fire, at least 3 times. It was quoted in a book, Elijah asked something about it, and they played it at the ballpark between innings.
Today in my Bible-reading, the theme of fire and brimstone raining on those who would gather against the Lord in the latter days showed up in several different places. SO even though this morning I type to the sound of the first good soaking rain of the summer season, a nourishing rain--still, I know the word of the day belongs to Johnny Cash:
Love is a burning thing
and it makes a firery ring
bound by wild desire
I fell into a ring of fire
I fell into a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
and the flames went higher
and it burns, burns, burns the ring of fire
the ring of fire
the taste of love is sweet
when hearts like ours meet
I fell for you like a child
oh, but the fire went wild
I fell into a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
and the flames went higher
and it burns, burns, burns the ring of fire
the ring of fire
Johnny Cash's daughter, Roseanne, says her mother wrote it as she was falling in love with Johnny, but was burdened by his drug and alcohol addictions. Of the song's legacy, she claims: "The song is about the transformative power of love and that's what it has always meant to me and that's what it will always mean to the Cash children."
Today in my Bible-reading, the theme of fire and brimstone raining on those who would gather against the Lord in the latter days showed up in several different places. SO even though this morning I type to the sound of the first good soaking rain of the summer season, a nourishing rain--still, I know the word of the day belongs to Johnny Cash:
Love is a burning thing
and it makes a firery ring
bound by wild desire
I fell into a ring of fire
I fell into a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
and the flames went higher
and it burns, burns, burns the ring of fire
the ring of fire
the taste of love is sweet
when hearts like ours meet
I fell for you like a child
oh, but the fire went wild
I fell into a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
and the flames went higher
and it burns, burns, burns the ring of fire
the ring of fire
Johnny Cash's daughter, Roseanne, says her mother wrote it as she was falling in love with Johnny, but was burdened by his drug and alcohol addictions. Of the song's legacy, she claims: "The song is about the transformative power of love and that's what it has always meant to me and that's what it will always mean to the Cash children."
Sunday, May 23, 2010
What Do You Call Prayer?
...and more pointedly does prayer "work" in the context of this world?
I've thought on this a lot lately. A postulate I should present a integral to my own evaluation, if you will, of prayer is that I tend to pull away when I look at this question...viewing prayer as a composite tapestry rather than as a collection of individual stitches. You can certainly point to this particular stitch or that one to evaluate the whole, but I think that is a disastrous method to decide prayer's effectiveness and thereby one's participation in it. So how does one rise up and see the whole scene? How does one pray, as Nouwen puts it, within a balance where prayer is personal enough to risk one's faith but broad enough to allow God room to move and create as He so pleases?
I look to one anecdote from my own experiences that defines for me the meaning of God "changing His mind" even within the context of His having perfect omniscience--for this is the rub for many thinking people. The example has to do with bubbles.
I've dreamed bubbles several times. Once I dreamed of a woman in a magnificent gown of bubbles, another time of churches filled with bubbles I was sent to observe (in this case it was more a foaming than a bubbling up) wherein I was pleased to announce to God that this foaming action was dissipating. And I dreamed of sleeping pigs locked in an almost solid foam that absolutely had to go away. What am I to make of all this bubbling imagery sent from God? Why is some good and some bad, almost in equal proportion?
Here is the crux of the matter. The bubbles are the omniscience; but their meaning and their playing out in my life, my actions and reactions are where changes and decisions--even on God's part--can occur. It all has to do with what the bubbles can mean based on the "word" God has given for the sake of interpretation.
Jude 1:13 addresses false teachers, those whose lives are self-centered, as being"Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever." The foam is bad. On the other hand, Psalm 145:7 says "They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteousness." Here, the word for 'abundantly utter' is more literally translated as 'bubble forth' so the image is good. Bubbles are the constant, but the interpretation is open to interpretation. Some would call this a dog chasing its tail, but I think it exemplifies the most primitive beauty of man, the most elemental elegance of the dance God makes with him.
As Neo in the Matrix so aptly puts it when his adversary finally raises the ultimate question: why do you keep fighting when you know it ends with your death? Neo says, "Because I choose to." Or as happened in another of my crazy dreams, one in which I was a chicken, of all things, in a crate on a truck. The devil asked me, "Why are you so happy? You know you're just headed to the slaughterhouse?" And I answered as I gazed out the airholes on the side, gazed at the fields passing by, "Because the view is so beautiful on the way."
Of all creation, we are the ones gifted with the largest access to the concept of choice, therefore we are the ones most susceptible to deception on that front. We've been given a broad umbrella under the rain of God's omniscience in the context of time and chance, but many choose to perceive themselves as clowns on bicycles, running around under mini-umbrellas. But then, this, too, just proves my point: the choice is ours.
I've thought on this a lot lately. A postulate I should present a integral to my own evaluation, if you will, of prayer is that I tend to pull away when I look at this question...viewing prayer as a composite tapestry rather than as a collection of individual stitches. You can certainly point to this particular stitch or that one to evaluate the whole, but I think that is a disastrous method to decide prayer's effectiveness and thereby one's participation in it. So how does one rise up and see the whole scene? How does one pray, as Nouwen puts it, within a balance where prayer is personal enough to risk one's faith but broad enough to allow God room to move and create as He so pleases?
I look to one anecdote from my own experiences that defines for me the meaning of God "changing His mind" even within the context of His having perfect omniscience--for this is the rub for many thinking people. The example has to do with bubbles.
I've dreamed bubbles several times. Once I dreamed of a woman in a magnificent gown of bubbles, another time of churches filled with bubbles I was sent to observe (in this case it was more a foaming than a bubbling up) wherein I was pleased to announce to God that this foaming action was dissipating. And I dreamed of sleeping pigs locked in an almost solid foam that absolutely had to go away. What am I to make of all this bubbling imagery sent from God? Why is some good and some bad, almost in equal proportion?
Here is the crux of the matter. The bubbles are the omniscience; but their meaning and their playing out in my life, my actions and reactions are where changes and decisions--even on God's part--can occur. It all has to do with what the bubbles can mean based on the "word" God has given for the sake of interpretation.
Jude 1:13 addresses false teachers, those whose lives are self-centered, as being"Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever." The foam is bad. On the other hand, Psalm 145:7 says "They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteousness." Here, the word for 'abundantly utter' is more literally translated as 'bubble forth' so the image is good. Bubbles are the constant, but the interpretation is open to interpretation. Some would call this a dog chasing its tail, but I think it exemplifies the most primitive beauty of man, the most elemental elegance of the dance God makes with him.
As Neo in the Matrix so aptly puts it when his adversary finally raises the ultimate question: why do you keep fighting when you know it ends with your death? Neo says, "Because I choose to." Or as happened in another of my crazy dreams, one in which I was a chicken, of all things, in a crate on a truck. The devil asked me, "Why are you so happy? You know you're just headed to the slaughterhouse?" And I answered as I gazed out the airholes on the side, gazed at the fields passing by, "Because the view is so beautiful on the way."
Of all creation, we are the ones gifted with the largest access to the concept of choice, therefore we are the ones most susceptible to deception on that front. We've been given a broad umbrella under the rain of God's omniscience in the context of time and chance, but many choose to perceive themselves as clowns on bicycles, running around under mini-umbrellas. But then, this, too, just proves my point: the choice is ours.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
What Do You Call Judgment?
"Born around 251, Anthony was the son of Egyptian peasants" says Henri Nouwen in his book, The Way of the Heart. Saint Anthony became the first monk of a group called the Desert Fathers. Anthony was called a hermit as he spent years in the desert alone with God and the demons who preyed upon him. (As protrayed by Grunewald on the Isenheim Altarpiece.) But, after he emerged from that time of solitude in the desert, Saint Anthony became someone people flocked to "for healing, comfort, and direction" until in his old age he chose to return to the desert to experience his last earthly days "absorbed in direct communion with God" alone.
Thomas Merton, in Wisdom of the Desert, says "Society...was regarded [by the Desert Fathers] as a shipwreck from which each single individual man had to swim for his life...These were men who believed that to let oneself drift along, passively accepting the tenets and values of what they knew as society, was purely and simply a disaster."
Though monkish living is considered eccentric at best, and is often deemed psychologically unhealthy and even down-right unChristian by the more socially-shaped of our kin, still I find much wisdom in their assessment of society, though we live in a Society almost 1800 years their junior. One difference I notice, though. Those who recognize a shipwreck underway are exercising their right to free speech. They are commenting loudly on the shipwreck of society. Maybe pre-Dark Age society didn't have permission or opportunity to such prophecies to be heard. Maybe they were further along in the act of sinking and had traded talking for diving in and swimming for shore. But for right now in THIS society, the doom seems to be centered in the fact that many are flocking to opposite ends of the boat, finding gaping holes in both places, but only "believing" in the potential harm of the hole they can see. And, they only shout all the louder as voices at the opposite end of the boat become more compelling about the disasters found there. As action is taken to "fix" the boat on the opposite end, these ones scream, "No, the problem is here!" Soon everyone begins to believe the problem is with the people at the other end of the boat drawing attention away from this hole, the one they can see in their own end.
When we reach that place, I believe we are at the moment when judgment becomes our enemy instead of our guide.
What did these desert fathers learn about judgment from their own leap to survival, taking their chances in the icy waters when their sinking ship proved hopeless? They apparently attributed to Solitude with God two profoundly wise lessons.
The first is this: Solitude gives birth to compassion. "If you would ask the Desert Fathers why solitude gives birth to compassion, they would say, 'Because it makes us die to our neighbor.' " Henri Nouwen explains this enigmatic answer: "At first this answer seems quite disturbing to a modern mind. But when we give it a closer look we can see that in order to be of service to others we have to die to them; that is, we have to give up measuring our meaning and value with the yardstick of others. To die to our neighbors means to stop judging them, to stop evaluating them, and thus to become free to be compassionate."
The second is this: Solitude gives birth to the humble self-awareness that is necessary for our forgiveness to be effective in the lives of those we forgive. Nouwen again comments: "The following desert story offers a good illustration: 'A brother...committed a fault. A council was called to which Abba Moses [a Desert Father] was invited, but he refused to go to it. Then the priest sent someone to say to him "Come, for everyone is waiting for you." So he got up and went. He took a leaking jug, filled it with water, and carried it with him. The others came out to meet him and said to him, "What is this, Father?" The old man said to them, "My sins run out behind me, and I do not see them, and today I am coming to judge the error of another." When they heard that they said no more to the brother but forgave him." Nouwen took this quote from a book called The Sayings of the Desert Fathers. I see in it a person walking as nearly as one can to the story of Christ and the adulteress while yet remaining appropriately distinct from Christ.
So this is my prayer:
Dear God,
May I carry that jug, and may I feel that water sloshing down the back of my leg any time I step out to pass judgment passionately but unwisely. Otherwise, my words are at best brass and cymbals making annoying and distracting noise; my words are at best an aid to deciding which end of the boat will bottom up first while doing nothing to help the boat as a whole.
May it be the mud between my toes that helps me know to stoop and wash my brother's feet...
Amen.
Saturday, April 03, 2010
What do you call Bible-reading?
Many read for many reasons. One of mine is to understand the things you tell me in the night watches.
For instance, in one dream I had, water suddenly began spraying out of my body, and I was much occupied with whether a nearby rack of coats should or should not get wet from the spray. I moved the rack away from me, into a choir room with a young man sitting on practice risers. This dream happened years, ago but it rushed back to me when I found this verse, which gave the strange symbolism meaning:
Mic 2:6 Prophesy ye not, [say they to them that] prophesy: they shall not prophesy to them, [that] they shall not take shame. (Or as another version puts it: "Do not prattle," you say to those who prophesy. So they shall not prophesy to you; They shall not return insult for insult, [or He shall not take shame.])
It doesn't mean so much unless you glance at the footnotes and find that the literal Hebrew for "prophesy" is "natalph"which means "to drip, to fall in drops." Ezekiel was told to "drip/drop" prophesy this way twice, Amos once. What's more, the literal for the word shame is "to be clothed with shame" making my dream now seem like a message from God saying, Don't prophesy to these who could be clothed with shame under the effect of that prophecy, but rather put them in the company of the one I've shown you is waiting. It took years for this one to mean such a thing!
I had another related dream, one given at a completely different time but containing the same character who received the coats from me, and it has come to fuller meaning as well. In that one, I stayed behind during an earthquake to rescue this one, who by now is a falling ruler. I've written in detail of it on another post here, but in short my compassion led me to be trapped in darkness with him after all others had escaped. He had no voice to pray, so I prayed alone, but I knew he listened. The dream did not tell me whether he found his prayer-voice again, nor whether either of us escaped the dark, lifeless place. My dreams of the Crystal Spectre ran along similar channels of hopelessness crashing into faith, leading me to believe that with God all things are indeed possible. Now I read this passage as if I hear the voice of the one in my dream indeed learning to pray:
Mic 7:7 Therefore I will look unto the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation: my God will hear me.
Mic 7:8 Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD [shall be] a light unto me.
Mic 7:9 I will bear the indignation of the LORD, because I have sinned against him, until he plead my cause, and execute judgment for me: he will bring me forth to the light, [and] I shall behold his righteousness.
Finally, there are two dreams of knives that have hung over me for a long time: both are detailed on here, as well. In one, I see a loaf of bread, and my hand holds a knife. As I slice the bread, a voice says the classic communion text: this is my body broken for you. When the bread is divided, and the knife blade touches the cutting board, a shot of electricity runs up my arm from my pinkey finger that wakes me it is so strong. In the other one, a wall of interrupted human progress lays piled higher than the eye can see, and young people ask me if I have a knife, as they intend to cut through that wall. I dig in my purse and find a little box cutter, very sharp but not very impressive-looking. One young man runs his thumb over it and says it isn't sharp at all. I try to explain that he felt the blade on the dull side, but before I can speak, he is approached by another young man who holds a beautiful large scimitar-shaped knife with a shiny blade and a yellow cloisonne handle. I tell him I'm sure that knife only appears a good choice, that it won't hold up under actual usage; but he and his friends are already running eagerly to try it on the wall. I go my own way alone. Two knife dreams, very different stories.
Now, today, in my actual world, a young friend of the generation to match my dream posts on his facebook, "I need a bread knife." And although I haven't found the verse yet to lead me to "see" precisely what this power is in the first knife dream, nor what the wall and the poor choices mean in the second one; I'm nevertheless watching for it, my young friend in his unwittingly random way alerted me to the fact that it is time to be watchful...
For instance, in one dream I had, water suddenly began spraying out of my body, and I was much occupied with whether a nearby rack of coats should or should not get wet from the spray. I moved the rack away from me, into a choir room with a young man sitting on practice risers. This dream happened years, ago but it rushed back to me when I found this verse, which gave the strange symbolism meaning:
Mic 2:6 Prophesy ye not, [say they to them that] prophesy: they shall not prophesy to them, [that] they shall not take shame. (Or as another version puts it: "Do not prattle," you say to those who prophesy. So they shall not prophesy to you; They shall not return insult for insult, [or He shall not take shame.])
It doesn't mean so much unless you glance at the footnotes and find that the literal Hebrew for "prophesy" is "natalph"which means "to drip, to fall in drops." Ezekiel was told to "drip/drop" prophesy this way twice, Amos once. What's more, the literal for the word shame is "to be clothed with shame" making my dream now seem like a message from God saying, Don't prophesy to these who could be clothed with shame under the effect of that prophecy, but rather put them in the company of the one I've shown you is waiting. It took years for this one to mean such a thing!
I had another related dream, one given at a completely different time but containing the same character who received the coats from me, and it has come to fuller meaning as well. In that one, I stayed behind during an earthquake to rescue this one, who by now is a falling ruler. I've written in detail of it on another post here, but in short my compassion led me to be trapped in darkness with him after all others had escaped. He had no voice to pray, so I prayed alone, but I knew he listened. The dream did not tell me whether he found his prayer-voice again, nor whether either of us escaped the dark, lifeless place. My dreams of the Crystal Spectre ran along similar channels of hopelessness crashing into faith, leading me to believe that with God all things are indeed possible. Now I read this passage as if I hear the voice of the one in my dream indeed learning to pray:
Mic 7:7 Therefore I will look unto the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation: my God will hear me.
Mic 7:8 Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD [shall be] a light unto me.
Mic 7:9 I will bear the indignation of the LORD, because I have sinned against him, until he plead my cause, and execute judgment for me: he will bring me forth to the light, [and] I shall behold his righteousness.
Finally, there are two dreams of knives that have hung over me for a long time: both are detailed on here, as well. In one, I see a loaf of bread, and my hand holds a knife. As I slice the bread, a voice says the classic communion text: this is my body broken for you. When the bread is divided, and the knife blade touches the cutting board, a shot of electricity runs up my arm from my pinkey finger that wakes me it is so strong. In the other one, a wall of interrupted human progress lays piled higher than the eye can see, and young people ask me if I have a knife, as they intend to cut through that wall. I dig in my purse and find a little box cutter, very sharp but not very impressive-looking. One young man runs his thumb over it and says it isn't sharp at all. I try to explain that he felt the blade on the dull side, but before I can speak, he is approached by another young man who holds a beautiful large scimitar-shaped knife with a shiny blade and a yellow cloisonne handle. I tell him I'm sure that knife only appears a good choice, that it won't hold up under actual usage; but he and his friends are already running eagerly to try it on the wall. I go my own way alone. Two knife dreams, very different stories.
Now, today, in my actual world, a young friend of the generation to match my dream posts on his facebook, "I need a bread knife." And although I haven't found the verse yet to lead me to "see" precisely what this power is in the first knife dream, nor what the wall and the poor choices mean in the second one; I'm nevertheless watching for it, my young friend in his unwittingly random way alerted me to the fact that it is time to be watchful...
Saturday, March 13, 2010
What Do You Call Righteous Judgment?
A lot of dung-slinging is going on in society today in the name of righteous judgment. A lot of criticism is floating around in the name of defining justice. (Does it mean giving a pittance to the poor man, but stopping short of detailing why he is poor in the first place?) Most troublesome of all, how do you tell someone you think they're dead wrong when they believe they have all righteous wrath on their side? This is a heavy cloud of many layers over our world today.
And yet, You've been showing me that You have the work of a judge--particularly in the context of prophetic warning--ahead of me. You're working on teaching me how to go about it Your way. I look at the dream I had about warning people of an earthquake, but since they didn't "feel" it in the permanent, main complex of their lives, they did not take the warning seriously. (My husband, too, has had this dream of being sent to warn those who did not want to hear him when he dreamed he was rescuing people off the tail of an airplane. He cried out that it was about to explode; but the first class passengers were taking their time, gathering their belongings, leaving nothing behind, until finally he had to leave them because the fireball erupted at their end of the plane and started flying back toward him. He jumped to the escape slide in time to at least save himself.) What do you do with these calls to warn and rescue?
The first thing I find You're doing with me is to refine my definition of rescuer. I muddy that definition too much with being an enabler of irresponsibility in others. In visiting with a friend, I was able to define for myself a pattern I tend to follow: when I see something before me that I'm fit to do and do well, I rush in and begin to build things that others could help with, even learn from, but because it's easier for me to do them myself, I ignore opportunities to motivate others to do grow, at least in those domains that call for rescue work. So I weaken those around me who should help me and broaden the boundary of my own workload until I make myself so ill and utterly burned out on the assignment that I collapse and have to leave it entirely to recouperate. But this year I've been learning some new ways.
I've been subbing this year, not teaching, just subbing. I've subbed primarily for a woman who is a band director and had some sudden emergency health situations arise in her family that called her out of the workplace pretty frequently. In this subbing assignment, I've had to limit myself. I was not in charge for more than a day or two at a time. I had clear-cut boundaries as to how I could use my skills. I could help kids learn the music in their folders, but I could not choose which kids to help nor choose the music they'd play, etc. So I learned how to walk inside a fence.
As always, a test came after the training. I was offered a specific salaried job, one that fit a skill set I knew I had. Should I take it? This particular job was one the rescuer in me would have lapped up like honey, but fools rush in... So I came to You for an answer, and the answer You gave me at least initially was "No, don't take it." You used supernatural means to tell me; You used natural means, but You made it very clear what Your advice was at this juncture. I could obey or not, but I couldn't say You left me guessing. I backed away from it.
And yet, You've been showing me that You have the work of a judge--particularly in the context of prophetic warning--ahead of me. You're working on teaching me how to go about it Your way. I look at the dream I had about warning people of an earthquake, but since they didn't "feel" it in the permanent, main complex of their lives, they did not take the warning seriously. (My husband, too, has had this dream of being sent to warn those who did not want to hear him when he dreamed he was rescuing people off the tail of an airplane. He cried out that it was about to explode; but the first class passengers were taking their time, gathering their belongings, leaving nothing behind, until finally he had to leave them because the fireball erupted at their end of the plane and started flying back toward him. He jumped to the escape slide in time to at least save himself.) What do you do with these calls to warn and rescue?
The first thing I find You're doing with me is to refine my definition of rescuer. I muddy that definition too much with being an enabler of irresponsibility in others. In visiting with a friend, I was able to define for myself a pattern I tend to follow: when I see something before me that I'm fit to do and do well, I rush in and begin to build things that others could help with, even learn from, but because it's easier for me to do them myself, I ignore opportunities to motivate others to do grow, at least in those domains that call for rescue work. So I weaken those around me who should help me and broaden the boundary of my own workload until I make myself so ill and utterly burned out on the assignment that I collapse and have to leave it entirely to recouperate. But this year I've been learning some new ways.
I've been subbing this year, not teaching, just subbing. I've subbed primarily for a woman who is a band director and had some sudden emergency health situations arise in her family that called her out of the workplace pretty frequently. In this subbing assignment, I've had to limit myself. I was not in charge for more than a day or two at a time. I had clear-cut boundaries as to how I could use my skills. I could help kids learn the music in their folders, but I could not choose which kids to help nor choose the music they'd play, etc. So I learned how to walk inside a fence.
As always, a test came after the training. I was offered a specific salaried job, one that fit a skill set I knew I had. Should I take it? This particular job was one the rescuer in me would have lapped up like honey, but fools rush in... So I came to You for an answer, and the answer You gave me at least initially was "No, don't take it." You used supernatural means to tell me; You used natural means, but You made it very clear what Your advice was at this juncture. I could obey or not, but I couldn't say You left me guessing. I backed away from it.
Not until then did I even realize it was the test, nor even the depths of the lesson I'd been learning, but now that I've passed that test, You're showing me how it fits with the larger picture of what You're preparing in me on these other fronts--those of giving appropriate warning where it is needed. I know this is Your next "lesson" because You brought back another dream of portent that made no sense, until now.
In that dream, I was standing beside a fence that was broken, and at the breach stood a very foolish, spotted horse. It was making the breach larger, trying to get out of the fenced area. This horse's motive for destroying the fence was not spite or meanness; it destroyed purely out of ignorance and misplaced curiosity. But it was not a horse that would listen to reason. The only course of action fitting to keep that horse safely inside the fence was to repair the fence itself. Suddenly, I had a tool in my right hand and wire in my left. I repaired the fence with these. When the horse saw the fence repaired, it trotted away back toward the barn. I remember this dream vividly now. Though I had it long ago, still You brought it back. I felt You telling me that this test was a way of proving myself, demonstrate that I'd stay inside a fence myself before I would be fit to mend anyone else's broken fences, before I'd be fit to address anyone else's unintentional transgressions. The offer of a job I'd be good at was the offer of a breach in the fence. My refusing to go through it showed I respected the fence You set for me whether I "had" to remain within its bounds or not.
The next day after I'd come through this test, I reached for my devotional reading and found this:
Mat 7:1 "JUDGE not, that you be not judged.
Mat 7:2 "For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.
Mat 7:3 "And why do you look at the speck in your brother's eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?
Mat 7:4 "Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me remove the speck from your eye'; and look, a plank is in your own eye?
Mat 7:5 "Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.
In that dream, I was standing beside a fence that was broken, and at the breach stood a very foolish, spotted horse. It was making the breach larger, trying to get out of the fenced area. This horse's motive for destroying the fence was not spite or meanness; it destroyed purely out of ignorance and misplaced curiosity. But it was not a horse that would listen to reason. The only course of action fitting to keep that horse safely inside the fence was to repair the fence itself. Suddenly, I had a tool in my right hand and wire in my left. I repaired the fence with these. When the horse saw the fence repaired, it trotted away back toward the barn. I remember this dream vividly now. Though I had it long ago, still You brought it back. I felt You telling me that this test was a way of proving myself, demonstrate that I'd stay inside a fence myself before I would be fit to mend anyone else's broken fences, before I'd be fit to address anyone else's unintentional transgressions. The offer of a job I'd be good at was the offer of a breach in the fence. My refusing to go through it showed I respected the fence You set for me whether I "had" to remain within its bounds or not.
The next day after I'd come through this test, I reached for my devotional reading and found this:
Mat 7:1 "JUDGE not, that you be not judged.
Mat 7:2 "For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.
Mat 7:3 "And why do you look at the speck in your brother's eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?
Mat 7:4 "Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me remove the speck from your eye'; and look, a plank is in your own eye?
Mat 7:5 "Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.
This text was analyzed further than many writers take it in the devotional I read. Most stop at berating the reader for having an eyeful of un-addressed plank--which when you think about it is rather ironic--but this devotional went on to say that when a person reaches that point of seeing clearly to judge others as verse 5 describes, the act looks quite different from what we usually call judging. It comes more from the position of being an encourager than anything else. "I see a speck in your eye, and if you have the courage and humility to accept that it is there, you might become hopeless, but don't be discouraged. I had a plank in my own eye, and look at me now! You can deal with this if I could deal with that." It is a very different approach to judging than we usually see. Who equates a judge with being a cheerleader? I don't know which is the chicken and which the egg--the man who can't hear he is wrong or the man who does a poor job of talking to him about it.
Now that I'm in the middle of this unit of study, where do I go from here? I can't say I know exactly, but I do know metaphorically. In the dream, tools were put in my hands to repair a broken fence in a world where everyone else seems to be beating up senseless horses. That's where I'm headed now.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
What do you call worship?
I had a dream in which God requested something of me, but in the strange way that is now so common between us; another one of those moments when God seems to chuckle and say, "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. You'll see."
I had a dream, and in it, I was given an assignment by God. He asked me to visit a series of churches, specifically to check out the foam level. I began to visit churches randomly, and indeed they all had mounds of foam, like suds frothing up on their floors. I studied the status of that foam at church after church, quite diligently I did my job. And it didn't seem odd that there should be foam, nor that I should give it such careful attention. In time, I felt ready to report back to God. So I returned to Him and made my report: the foam was still there, but it was dissipating, breaking down. And that was the end of the dream.
I've had enough of these dreams to have learned two things about my reception of them: I must proceed with patience, but likewise with attention. Like a pot moved to a back burner to simmer while other things might happened on the front burner, so this dream was that back burner's fare that was nonetheless still on the menu.
So I was hardly surprised when some time later, in the course of my regular Bible reading, I came across this passage. There was once a time when such a correlation left me breathless while cold chills ran the length of my spine. Now I simply smile a secret-well-shared sort of smile. Does that mean You are growing our relationship to new levels of familiarity? In any case, here is the reference:
Jud 1:10 Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand; and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals–these are the very things that destroy them.
Jud 1:11 Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion.
Jud 1:12 These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm–shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted–twice dead.
Jud 1:13 They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.
There was my foam. Shame, unrecognized and ineffective in changing those causing it.
I went deeper into a study on these ones so graphically defined as dangerous and fruitless for any genuinely good result. The book of Jude is a small book; an interesting one to consider. For instance, it rests some of its arguments on texts that historic Jews considered common knowledge (like the texts that documented the dispute between Michael and the Devil over Moses' body and all the prophecies of Enoch) but are not a part of the holy canon. Now, 1700 years after the Nicaean Council's historic meeting about the unification of the Christian faith, these texts are virtually unknown to Christians, even by title, and certainly are more unfamiliar in content than they were to the original readers of these letters to the churches. That is one interesting point about the book of Jude--how it reminds us what is no longer common knowledge. Another is its brevity, and in that sense, its purity of intent. It addresses one need, fields one warning, fleshes out one danger: beware the false teacher/leader. People of the true faith are instructed on how to move forward in their walk with God despite these false ones who shamelessly stain the fabric of the corporate faith.
I understood the dream's call, then and was sobered by it. But, implementing it was hardly feasible. Both my husband and I had worship, service and leadership commitments within our local church. How were we to make this assessment happen? And, even before we could go to work on making such a survey doable, the family was struck with mono, and no one went to church for a couple of months, or went much of anywhere for that matter except the doctor's office! Life circumstances extricated us from most obligations, one by one, but that is already documented here.
When we recovered and returned to church, we were completely free of those obligations as we'd been out of the loop for a while. It was time to pick up the reigns again if we were going to do so, but even as we "visited" again our church home, we felt a change within us. Neither of us felt particularly led to resume our former work in the church. What's more, we felt led to go out and visit other churches. Maybe it was time for a change, we thought. Funny how just a few months in the wilderness of illness made me forget the dream and its defining Scripture.
But as we began visiting other churches, each time I felt a question, a test if you will, pop into my mind. Watch for this, I'd hear in my mind's ear. Look for this, I'd feel told to watch with my mind's eye. And as for what my heart might perceive, this was all the more mysterious and off the beaten path of past experiences with "church shopping." For instance, at one church, I was listening to a sermon on the topic of being willing to embrace relationship with God outside the realm of His provision for our creature comforts. As I diligently took my notes on the back of my bulletin in that space labeled: Sermon Notes, an idea popped into my mind--Jesus addressed this topic when He spoke of how foxes have dens, but the Son of Man has no place to rest His head. Jesus should be one of the points of evidence confirming the validity of this aspect of the life of faith. But points one, two and three went by without Jesus making an appearance in the sermon. I thought the sermon might fail to present its most conclusive evidence proving its assertion when in a last point--a fourth point (who preaches a four-point sermon!?!)--the pastor at last brought Jesus on the scene. The image of the dissipating foam suddenly flashed to mind. We were living the drama of the dream, indeed had walked through Acts I and II before we even knew we were on stage. I believe those moments of human realization of divine intervention are surely a delight to God. I've felt His glee when He knows we've discovered His amazing plans presented mid-stream such that we are shielded from taking undue credit for their wisdom--because the awareness arrived both late and effortlessly full blown.
So we stepped all the more alertly into this church hunt, realizing it had a larger context than simply one family finding a new church wherein to worship. I believe we all--as God's creation--have opportunities to live in a larger context than the details of our singular time-locked lives. We are living poetry, and a blessed few even know it.
But now the children grow weary. They (and we) would like to settle somewhere. We long for a place to call home in the worship sense. Still, as an encouragement, the Spirit reminds us kindly that our work matters. Last night, we had deep-spirit friends over for dinner. A sudden shower drove that summer-rain scent through the window, wafting over the fantastic aroma of my husband's handiwork: a barbecued tenderloin that all agreed was some of the best barbecue they'd ever tasted. Even as the rain fell softly outside like a gentle cocoon, we sat in the warm glow of the well-lit dining room. There my friend commented on a day last week when clouds all day seemed to promise rain, yet in the end gave none.
This morning, I decided to re-visit my Commission, and there I saw a reminder that the Spirit is still with us, even through the weariness of our human frailty, and even through a common little dinner shared with friends, an event that hardly classifies as worship in the grand scheme of worship services. But I saw again the verse that claimed false teachers are like rainless clouds, and I remembered how my spirit-sister reminded me last night, without meaning to be profound in the least, and in such being profound all the more, that rainless clouds have made an appearance recently, but now were but a thing of passing memory.
After the rainless clouds have their day, a good meal will be shared, warm company enjoyed, even hearty and passionate differences of opinion bandied about in loving fun, all as the clouds keep their promises of gentle rain. I can face the Sabbath in peace a while longer, God; and as is so often the case, (I quote my husband here)I can persevere and endure almost anything as long as I know what is ahead of me. Even better, when the knowing fortells something good.
Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkindness of the Lord. Psalms 107:43
I had a dream, and in it, I was given an assignment by God. He asked me to visit a series of churches, specifically to check out the foam level. I began to visit churches randomly, and indeed they all had mounds of foam, like suds frothing up on their floors. I studied the status of that foam at church after church, quite diligently I did my job. And it didn't seem odd that there should be foam, nor that I should give it such careful attention. In time, I felt ready to report back to God. So I returned to Him and made my report: the foam was still there, but it was dissipating, breaking down. And that was the end of the dream.
I've had enough of these dreams to have learned two things about my reception of them: I must proceed with patience, but likewise with attention. Like a pot moved to a back burner to simmer while other things might happened on the front burner, so this dream was that back burner's fare that was nonetheless still on the menu.
So I was hardly surprised when some time later, in the course of my regular Bible reading, I came across this passage. There was once a time when such a correlation left me breathless while cold chills ran the length of my spine. Now I simply smile a secret-well-shared sort of smile. Does that mean You are growing our relationship to new levels of familiarity? In any case, here is the reference:
Jud 1:10 Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand; and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals–these are the very things that destroy them.
Jud 1:11 Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion.
Jud 1:12 These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm–shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted–twice dead.
Jud 1:13 They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.
There was my foam. Shame, unrecognized and ineffective in changing those causing it.
I went deeper into a study on these ones so graphically defined as dangerous and fruitless for any genuinely good result. The book of Jude is a small book; an interesting one to consider. For instance, it rests some of its arguments on texts that historic Jews considered common knowledge (like the texts that documented the dispute between Michael and the Devil over Moses' body and all the prophecies of Enoch) but are not a part of the holy canon. Now, 1700 years after the Nicaean Council's historic meeting about the unification of the Christian faith, these texts are virtually unknown to Christians, even by title, and certainly are more unfamiliar in content than they were to the original readers of these letters to the churches. That is one interesting point about the book of Jude--how it reminds us what is no longer common knowledge. Another is its brevity, and in that sense, its purity of intent. It addresses one need, fields one warning, fleshes out one danger: beware the false teacher/leader. People of the true faith are instructed on how to move forward in their walk with God despite these false ones who shamelessly stain the fabric of the corporate faith.
I understood the dream's call, then and was sobered by it. But, implementing it was hardly feasible. Both my husband and I had worship, service and leadership commitments within our local church. How were we to make this assessment happen? And, even before we could go to work on making such a survey doable, the family was struck with mono, and no one went to church for a couple of months, or went much of anywhere for that matter except the doctor's office! Life circumstances extricated us from most obligations, one by one, but that is already documented here.
When we recovered and returned to church, we were completely free of those obligations as we'd been out of the loop for a while. It was time to pick up the reigns again if we were going to do so, but even as we "visited" again our church home, we felt a change within us. Neither of us felt particularly led to resume our former work in the church. What's more, we felt led to go out and visit other churches. Maybe it was time for a change, we thought. Funny how just a few months in the wilderness of illness made me forget the dream and its defining Scripture.
But as we began visiting other churches, each time I felt a question, a test if you will, pop into my mind. Watch for this, I'd hear in my mind's ear. Look for this, I'd feel told to watch with my mind's eye. And as for what my heart might perceive, this was all the more mysterious and off the beaten path of past experiences with "church shopping." For instance, at one church, I was listening to a sermon on the topic of being willing to embrace relationship with God outside the realm of His provision for our creature comforts. As I diligently took my notes on the back of my bulletin in that space labeled: Sermon Notes, an idea popped into my mind--Jesus addressed this topic when He spoke of how foxes have dens, but the Son of Man has no place to rest His head. Jesus should be one of the points of evidence confirming the validity of this aspect of the life of faith. But points one, two and three went by without Jesus making an appearance in the sermon. I thought the sermon might fail to present its most conclusive evidence proving its assertion when in a last point--a fourth point (who preaches a four-point sermon!?!)--the pastor at last brought Jesus on the scene. The image of the dissipating foam suddenly flashed to mind. We were living the drama of the dream, indeed had walked through Acts I and II before we even knew we were on stage. I believe those moments of human realization of divine intervention are surely a delight to God. I've felt His glee when He knows we've discovered His amazing plans presented mid-stream such that we are shielded from taking undue credit for their wisdom--because the awareness arrived both late and effortlessly full blown.
So we stepped all the more alertly into this church hunt, realizing it had a larger context than simply one family finding a new church wherein to worship. I believe we all--as God's creation--have opportunities to live in a larger context than the details of our singular time-locked lives. We are living poetry, and a blessed few even know it.
But now the children grow weary. They (and we) would like to settle somewhere. We long for a place to call home in the worship sense. Still, as an encouragement, the Spirit reminds us kindly that our work matters. Last night, we had deep-spirit friends over for dinner. A sudden shower drove that summer-rain scent through the window, wafting over the fantastic aroma of my husband's handiwork: a barbecued tenderloin that all agreed was some of the best barbecue they'd ever tasted. Even as the rain fell softly outside like a gentle cocoon, we sat in the warm glow of the well-lit dining room. There my friend commented on a day last week when clouds all day seemed to promise rain, yet in the end gave none.
This morning, I decided to re-visit my Commission, and there I saw a reminder that the Spirit is still with us, even through the weariness of our human frailty, and even through a common little dinner shared with friends, an event that hardly classifies as worship in the grand scheme of worship services. But I saw again the verse that claimed false teachers are like rainless clouds, and I remembered how my spirit-sister reminded me last night, without meaning to be profound in the least, and in such being profound all the more, that rainless clouds have made an appearance recently, but now were but a thing of passing memory.
After the rainless clouds have their day, a good meal will be shared, warm company enjoyed, even hearty and passionate differences of opinion bandied about in loving fun, all as the clouds keep their promises of gentle rain. I can face the Sabbath in peace a while longer, God; and as is so often the case, (I quote my husband here)I can persevere and endure almost anything as long as I know what is ahead of me. Even better, when the knowing fortells something good.
Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkindness of the Lord. Psalms 107:43
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