Life At The Well

Holy Hatred

2010-02-20T10:58:00.000-05:00

Holy Hatred

There are some things we just don’t say in our house. We don’t say ‘Shut up!” for instance. We just don’t like the sound of it and think it is dishonoring to a person. And we don’t say “I hate __________” because we all know that we are supposed to love not hate. The acceptable exception for me must be the weather, because many times these past weeks I have growled and said that I hate winter.

It got me to thinking about what I hate … and what God hates. In part because, as I was reading the Bible this morning, I came across this exhortation:

“Do not bring an abhorrent thing into your house, or you will be set apart for destruction like it. You must utterly detest and abhor it, for it is set apart for destruction.” Deut. 7:26 (NRSV)

Hello? I’m pretty sure that abhor and detest is just another way of saying hate. And God has urged me to reserve my hatred for what is unholy. What is not like Him or of Him or honoring of His will .. is to be utterly detested and abhorred. Pretty strong language, don’t you think?

As I fit this thought into my Lenten journey, I am re-convicted of two implications:

1) I choose what comes into my house. I have control over the media choices I make, and the attitudes I bring, and the ways in which I act within the castle of my home and with my family. I choose the manner in which I live, and what values I will live by. The Easter season is a perfect time to refresh my passion for righteousness and my ‘hatred’ of unholiness.

2) The Word of God establishes holiness. What is righteous is not a function of the latest Internet poll, or news survey, or public fad, or personal opinion. Holiness, and the standards by which it is measured, are revealed through the Scriptures and the working of the Spirit, revealing Jesus to me. Here’s the rub: I won’t be fashioned in holiness if I a not consistently immersed in Scripture. The Word of God is the tool of the Spirit to shape me and form me and make me in to the likeness of Jesus Christ. And that’s the goal!

As clichéd as it sounds, you and I cannot mature in our faith apart from a commitment to being men and women of the Word. Daily reading and meditation. Regular study and application. Memorizing, contemplating and wrestling with the written Word are necessary if we are to follow in the footsteps of the Living Word.

“All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.” 2 Timothy 3:16-17 (NRSV)

In the Word,
Harry

Countdown to Resurrection

2009-02-26T08:23:00.002-05:00

Last night one of our daughters asked me what I was “giving up for Lent” --- and I smiled because, while I have been considering the question for a couple of weeks, I really didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know what I was going to ‘give up’ – but I did know what I wanted to accomplish in this season that leads up to the Easter celebration of Jesus’ resurrection. I want to stand before my Savior in 40 days stripped of anything that hinders my loving Him.

Henri Nouwen, when considering the vocational change that led him to leave a professorship at Harvard to become the chaplain at a home for mentally and physically handicapped adults, wrote: “These broken, wounded and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self – the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things – and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I am completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of any accomplishments.” For Nouwen, finding unencumbered love required not only that he ‘give up’ his academic and social standing at Harvard, but also that he embrace or ‘take on’ the brokenness and woundedness of others, so that the kingdom of God might be extended through him … to them.

So, as I anticipate celebrating the death and resurrection of Jesus in 40 days, I am doing so with Jesus words imprinted anew on my heart: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 26 For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Matt 16:24-26 (ESV)

My start on the journey is examen – to allow God full access in searching my attitudes, motives, thoughts, words and actions, so that I can crucify the remnants of my old man to make way for the growth of the new. To deny the world in me, so that I may follow the One in me Who is greater than the world.

Counting down,
Harry

Ploughed Up

2007-05-16T11:51:00.000-04:00

"If I am a field that contains nothing but grass-seed, I cannot produce wheat. Cutting the grass may keep it short: but I shall still produce grass and no wheat. If I want to produce wheat, the change must go deeper than the surface. I must be ploughed up and resown." - CS Lewis

The attempt to retain my Self and my desires and wants and wishes, while merely adding Jesus into the mix ... is futile. And frustrating. Every step of my journey is replete with discoveries that another area of my life has been held in reserve from God, somehow rationalized that mere correction or enlightenment would sufficiently mask whatever tendency or opinon or behavior that I had not yet dealt with.

I must be ploughed up and resown.

For I am crucified with Christ ... at times it seems as though I have been connected with Christ, or comfy with Christ or even compulsively with Christ. But I am afraid that I am only now embracing crucifixtion. Embracing may even seem a tad aggressive ... but the language is rather ... eh, forceful. Crucified with Christ ... ploughed up and resown. Transformed, not reformed.

But, as I have learned this week, often the hardest way is the one that appears easiest. To neglect an area that is need of ploughing is only mandating that I will have to face the problem of becoming overgrown and useless at some later date. Again, Lewis writes: "The Christian way is different: harder, and easier. Christ says, "Give me All."

Plough me up Lord, and re-seed me as You will.

Aftermath

2007-05-14T10:43:00.000-04:00

I returned home after a whirlwind stay in Louisiana surrounding my grandmother's funeral. Vocationally, I deal with death often, but as a 'family participant' in these events, new perspectives were awakeded. I felt some need to create harmony and reconciliation in my family, where often those things have been absent. And I realized, again, how superficially I/we live sometimes. How many of my words were utered solely to boost my appearance among 'old acquaintances' that I have not seen in 25 years? Even part, if not most, of my need to seek peace among siblings and other extended family members, was in response to seeing how artifically we have related to each other. We have been so intent on filling the expectations and perceptons we have of one another that we could not genuinely relate to one another.

Not that I believe that mindset can be toppled immediately, because I don't know how many others are willing to unmask, but I recognized my deep inner fatigue at trying to be something ... anything, other than who and what I am. But the road to transparency if frought with peril ... fears, worries, the revlation of my imperfections .. you get the picture. CS Lewis spoke of the need to be dye or stain that soaks into the fiber, rather than pain that merely covers the surface. I am in need of fiber-shaking ... not fresh coating.

I say all that to relate the conviction that I must devote myself to more contemplative time and activities. Even my soul maintainance has, of late, been hyperactive and not so surpringly, self-powered. I have discovered many aspects of my personality and charatcer that are in need of examination ... so if you'll excuse me now ..

Peace.

Through the Struggles

2007-05-08T10:07:00.000-04:00

I just finished reading The Intimate Merton, compiled from Thomas Merton's personal journals - and it has given me a new perspective to Father Louis. It would be easy to collect quotes from Merton and read his books and arrive at the conclusion that he was a 'spiritual giant' -- bold, faithful and consistent. But his journals tell a more complex story than that. In my mind, perhaps their greatest value is in giving readers insight into the struggles and questions and failures and agony that Merton's lfe of spiritual questing produced. He articulates what many (most?) spiritual seekers (I use this word not in the contemporary church growth connotation -- rather to signify kingdom travellers, truth journey-ers, soul searchers ... those somewhere in the spectrum of believers-in-the-making and disciples-to-be) encounter: inconsistency, times of doubt, penetrating moments of self-realization, and sometimes unanswerable questions. And yet, Merton kept returning to the All that was beyond our nothingness.

I needed to read that. If I have learned anything in the journey of the past few years, it is that neat answers (that come alliterated, and rhyming .. if possible) rarely provide the nourishment for my soul that I need to face life in God's presence with my own soul laid bare before Him. (Not that I've got the whole soul-baring thing down at, yet :>)) But as my faith-relationshipwith Jesus deepens, many of the things that I was pretty sure I knew ... seem questionable. Certainly they are OPEN to question. Where I once was content to live in the world of "right answers" -- indeed was dedicated to finding and learning them all, so that I could wield them on command, like the neatly costumed performers of most dog-and-preacher shows -- I have come to a place where "right answers" and those who wield them .. scare me to death. My faith has formed in the crucible of doubt. My grasp of truth has been strengthened by encounters with deception. My zeal has been fanned from the embers of apathy. My peace received in struggle.

I think I'll go back and re-read some of Merton's other books, to see how they hit me now. Timing is everything, they say. By the way, I am leaving for a week in Louisiana to attend my dear grandmother's funeral .. she died yesterday. Talk about troubles -- a woman of deep faith, born, raised and remained in the Catholic tradition -- she witnessed the abandonment of any faith by some children and grandkids, a granddaughter dabbling in Wicca and Buddhism, and her oldest and favorite grandson who became a Protestant preacher. And yet she always practiced a love and tolerance that goes way beyond ecumenism .. all theway to faith and love. May God receive her with grace and delight.

Peace.

Contemporary Idolatry

2007-04-24T10:28:00.000-04:00

"The great sin, the source of all other sins, is idolatry. Never has it been greater, more prevalent than now. It is almost completely unrecognized -- preceisely because it is so overwhelmingly total. It takes in everything. There is nothing else left. Fetishism of power, machines, possessions, medicine, sports, clothes, etc., all kept going by greed for money and power." -Thomas Merton

Written in his journal on Saturday, April 17th. Forty two years ago! What would Father Louis think today if he were still alive? Somehow I'm betting he would not know (nor care) who advanced on American Idol, who danced with what star or who got kicked off the Survivor island. OK, OK .. so picking on 'reality' shows is really to easy. But words become cliche only when they harbor a nugget of truth that is repeated often enough to become familiar. And given how superficial our social discourse is these days, I find it compelling to use those references as illustrations to the perverse idolatry that corrupts nearly every fiber of our cultural, social and moral landscape.

God deliver us from one more best-seller turned small group curriculum.
God deliver us from one more spiritual platitude by anything-you-believe-is-OK "leaders."
God deliver us from narrow-minded, self-righteous legalists.
God .. deliver us from the all the extremes of self.

Allow us to find our balance ... our center ... in You. For then, and only then, can we build community with each other. I am blessed to be discovering the possibilities as God draws some to this conclusion that personal spiritual formation in the context of loving friends, opens the wounds of our idolatrous society and heals them. I suspect that churches birthed in traditional organizational structures will find this possible in segments rather than in large corporatre contexts. Success will not be universally recognized because it won't necessarily come with trophies to growth. But it will, and is coming with fruit. The fruit of the Spirit produced in people making Christ the center, and tearing down the walls that divide sacred and secular - to live all for Him. Reality faith, instead of reality television.

Peace.

Living Out of the Resurrection

2007-04-11T10:36:00.000-04:00

Whew and wow! Perhaps for reasons that I have not yet fully fleshed out yet, this year has been the most intensive focus on the resurrection of Jesus that I have ever engaged. Not that I perfectly understand or can articulate all that is encompassed in the notion of Christ being bodily raised from death ... but I am certainly more grounded in the resurrection than I was at the start of Lent. So for that, I am thankful.

In addition to many fine writings, I appreciated this post from Monastic Mumblings. Wonderful thoughts on the evidence of Jesus' divinity for the first century Hebrew mind. Part of the wonder of this Easter celebration has been the conclusion I've reached, inescapably, about teh role the resurrection played in the early church's understanding of identity and mission. Much in line with plenty of my thoughts over the past two years, it appears that our theology has been so Westernized that we have contaminated the genuine power of life change that exists in the message of God's Word of (New) Life. So to my journeys I add this sidebar -- how (if it is even possible) do we/I lead a 'traditional' church into the re-discovery of being a resurrection people? I don't mean traditional, as in vs. contemporary .. I mean traditional, as in, the way churches are formed, structured and operate in the United States/Western world today?

I don't guess I write to offer answers .. only to muse over the situation as I am encountering it.

Peace.

What I Thought I Knew ...

2007-03-29T08:16:00.000-04:00

Ruth. Diana. Hattie.

Three names of three women that God has brought into my life over the past months to force me to reconsider all that I thought I knew about following Christ and about "church." Their lives tell a story of brokenness that is far beyond mere poverty, or lonliness, or bad choices. Their life-stories resonate with a deep need for good news, because in their wildest imaginations ... they can't come up with any. Such deep-seeded brokenness has - in different ways for each of them - left them believing that they are less human because of their circumstances.

Robin (my wife) and I sat up late into the night after having spent some time with one of these women ... weeping and brainstorming and wondering. The place where this woman is .. everyday reality ... is so disheartening and so .. so ruined, that we both recognized that any "benevolence program" or "day of service" or "random act of kindness" would be nothing more than a sneeze in a windstorm. Pitifully lacking. Arrogantly superficial. Desperately un-Christlike.

Robin said aloud what I was thinking: "Her problems are so overwhelming. Her situation is so complicated. What can we do? And even as I ask that, I'm afraid that the answer is quite simple, and that I already know it." Hattie needs someone who will initiate a relationship that makes her more fully human. It cannot be done with a couple of bags of groceries, or a ride to "church" or help with a utility bill. Hattie needs someone to love her -- plain and simple.

And there is in that solution, great and terrible risk. Risk that I wil have to spend some of my time, or maybe some of my money. Risk that I will have to - gulp - get involved in her life. The truth is, I have always had a compassionate heart, and find ministry to the "poor" and "needy" a relatively easy place to go, but a new layer of understanding opened for me last night. Meeting needs is a demonstration of concern .. of compassion .. of care, but it is not love. Love feeds a hungry person. Not for the opportunity to "evangelize" or better yet, "moralize", but love feeds a person because they are hungry. Today. And again tomorrow. And next week. And next month. Faithfulness to Christ cannot be accomplished through even the most well meaning of programs. The institution of 'church' cannot corporately love people, and love is what ruined, broken people need most. Love needs to be transferred person to person, elbow to elbow, 'seeping into the cracks of life' one author said, to create a new reality.

I'm not sure yet, what this means for Robin and me ... but then again, I'm afraid I already know the answer and it is quite simple. More to come ....

Peace.

Thin Spaces

2007-03-26T09:34:00.000-04:00

Cool mist, satin breeze
Thick air, thin trees

Walking path, hurried pace
Thick people, thin space

Silent bench, wet grass
Time stops, moments pass.

Love is ...

2007-03-16T09:57:00.000-04:00

I learned a lesson about love yesterday.

My beloved Cardinals (the University of Lousiville variety) were scheduled to play a first-round game in the NCAA tournament at 12:40. I was scheduled on a field trip with my 6 year old at 10:45 and then to taxi my 15 year old to the doctor's aoffice for an appointment at 3:00. The field trip (which included 300 of my closest 1st and 2nd grade students) was to the Lexington Philharmonic's Tribute to Kentucky Heritage. (Yes, I attended the symphony with over 300 6 and 7 year olds .. that alone should define love.) To arrive at the Opera House, we had to park 9 blocks away, navigate congestion that can only be described as sardine-ish and herd our small charges on the walk AS a cold front came through dropping the temperature 30 degrees along with about 1 inch of rain. The weather arrived earlier than I, for one, had expected .. so my coat was warmly tucked in my car .. back at school. The congestion was NCAA- produced because my aforementioned Cardinals (along with 7 other teams) were playing at Rupp Arena in downtown Lexington ... strategically located between blocks 3 and 4 on the 9 block trek I previously described. To add anguish to my misery ... every street corner was filled with shady-looking characters offering me lower-level seating to watch my aformentioned beloved Cardinals .. AT BELOW FACE VALUE TICKET PRICES!!

Love dictated that I proceed to the Opera House. I didn't even get to hear the game on radio. Or see it on TV ... it ended while I was in the waiting room of our pediatrician ... trying to avoid breathing the blizzard of respiratory germs being sneezed into the air. The good news is , my beloved Cardinals won, and will play again tomorrow. I am going to be with relatives celebrating my wife's birthday. I've given somethought as to why, and the answer is love.

Love is ... my 6 year old daughter bragging to her friends that "my daddy can make the funniest noises" while we wait for the orchestra to tune up. At the top of her lungs.

Love is ... my 15 year old and I laughing so hard in the exam room, waiting for the doctor, that the nurse peeked her head in to see what was going on.

Love is ... rooting for your school ... when your kids know that you root more for them.

Love is ... amazing. And from God. It's way too easy to dismiss a choice as a "no-brainer" ... kids always trump sports ... except that in real life, most of us miss that some of the time. I can't choose to love consistently or realsitically apart from dwelling within the kingdom of God. March Madness only provides a temptation for me to be selfish once a year ... but there is no day or week that a thousand other possibilities don't emerge to attract me to self-indulgence. To entice me to act un-lovingly. But in the maelstrom of self-centered opportunitites, God speaks. From within. And says "I love you."

You want to know what love is? It's not a 43 year old dad listening to Beethoven instead of "Go Cards!" .... it's a 6 year old daughter at the end of the day, embracing a far-less-than-perfect man .... forgiving his mistakes and hugging his neck. "I love you."

What a beautiful rain

2007-03-14T08:43:00.001-04:00

Like Bryan, I too have been reading The Intimate Merton, and cannot help myself but to be more keenly aware of the details of nature around me. Merton took such incredible pleasure and blessing from birds, trees and sunlight that it has re-awakened in me an appreciation for God's creation. My roots are VERY rural, and I would have probably considered myself a "lover of the outdoors" or a "naturalist" or something along those lines, but in truth, I've let life dull my senses in many ways. Too many flourescent lights and too much concrete. But the last several days have allowed me to enjoy the incredible smell of freshly plowed dirt, taste the warm breezes of spring and this morning, to soak in a beautiful rain. And I am full of praise because of it. Glory to God!

Spitting Out Forbidden Fruit

2007-03-13T16:26:00.000-04:00

I have seen Mark Twain credited for these words: "God's mistake was in not forbidding Adam to eat the serpent." Why is it that what is "forbidden" is so desirous? For if God had restricted Adam from eating serpents ... my money is that today we'd be talking about why Adam and Eve couldn't resist fried rattlesnake. Which leads me to my point: one of the great measuring sticks of maturity is resisting the temptation of the forbidden. No longer 'delighting' in what should not be. It occurred to me in conversation this morning that a particular fruit that often has tempted me .... no longer does. I though that was cool ... and gave me another good reason to sing praises today. I'm learning that a vital part of the story unfolding in my faith community is the telling of small victories over the default settings .. the natural .. that is within each of us. And pointing out to people that outgrowing the forbidden is a work of God's grace, seems to me to be a dynamic component to living missionally. Very cool ...

Peace.

Looking for Jesus

2007-03-12T11:53:00.000-04:00

"Examine yourselves to see if your faith is genuine. Test yourselves. Surely you know that Jesus Christ is among you; if not, you have failed the test of genuine faith." 2 Corinthians 13:5

I wonder why it is so easy to confuse the means for knowing Jesus, with the ends ... that is, knowing Him and living with Him in the midst?

Inspiration

2007-03-06T09:27:00.000-05:00

Sometimes inspiration comes from the most unlikely of places. My middle daughter (age 15) has really been engaged in a quest to grow spiritually and by her own words "eliminate some distractions." Unsure of how to proceed, she decided God was leading her to give up meat as a effort of self-denial and to focus her on Him. That was 6 weeks ago ... totally unthinkable to me that my burger-chomping, barbeque-loving bacon-eater could be so committed and diligent and determined. We talked about what she was learning and frankly, I am in awe of her discernment and wisdom. She's learning .. far earlier than I ever did .. that she doesn't have to be a slave to her appetites. She's hearing from God, so much so that she is recognizng His voice more readily. And on top of that, she felt led to "give up" soda pop during Lent!

I am so proud of her. And so grateful to God. I am inspired ....

Peace.

Poet Perspective

2007-03-02T16:10:00.000-05:00

"If you believe in the divinity of Christ, you have to cherish the world at the same time you struggle to endure it." - Flannery O'Connor

Sometimes that's difficult for me.

The 'world' that I yearn for is simple and quiet, but the 'world' that I live in is a tangled web of complexities, tasks, desires and obligations. There is a great difficulty in this environment to even muster the concentration to isolate and eradicate these noises, absent the very quiet that they destroy.

Some days seem much more struggle than cherish. Thanks You, Lord, for the grace to endure and the capacity to cherish.

Believing,
Harry

Mello Joy Heaven

2007-02-07T12:06:00.000-05:00

The coolest thing happened to me the other day -- my family got a late Christmas present from one of my brothers. My daughters were pumped and crowded around to 'help' open the shipping box and unwrap the gift. Their smiles got bogger and bigger ... and then, I heard, "What the heck?" I peeked over them to see 3 one pound bags of Mello Joy and two really hip travel mugs.

My daughters walked away, oblivious to the value of this gift. You see, on a cold, wintry kind of Kentucky day, nothing warms up my smile like some good 'ole N'Awlins coffee. (That's New Orleans for the uninitiated!) For several generations South Louisiana coffee drinkers split allegiance between two local bean roastersa: Mello Joy and Community. Both are bold, hearty coffees, especially if you choose the chickory roast. Eventually, Community won the battle and bought out the Mello Joy name and copyright.

Funny thing happened on the way to market dominance, though. Community forgot to renew the copyright on the Mello Joy name, and members of the family found that out, re-snatched up the name and began roasting beans again. After almost 30 years of absence, Mello Joy re-entered the coffee wars ... deliciously. And my little brother sent me 3 pounds. And I'm happy. Here's sipping at you, kids!

Savoring the aroma,
harry

New Wineskins

2007-01-30T10:07:00.001-05:00

"No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch will pull away from the garment, making the tear worse. Neither do men pour new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins will burst, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved." Matthew 9:16-17 (NIV)

The days of patches and wineskins seems to have passed, but the image created by Jesus’ words remains vivid for me. That what He was offering was “new” and that “old” ways would simply not suffice in preserving what He was giving.

So what the heck was Jesus offering that demands such ‘newness’ from those of us who try to follow Him? As is often the case, the context is vitally important, for Jesus was somewhat cryptically answering a question about the Pharisees and the ‘practice’ of religion. Chronologically, this question comes on the heels of a minor confrontation involving Pharisaical disapproval of His dining with ‘sinners.’ Specifically, Jesus is asked about fasting, and it is to that question that He replies with images of unshrunk cloth and old wineskins.

Painting large groups of people with broad strokes is always dangerous, but I’ll plow ahead anyway … for the Pharisees are cast in the Gospels as the contrast to Jesus’ personal pursuit of the Father’s will. The Pharisees are obsessed with public image, social appearance and a dogmatic legalism that tries to enforce behavioral conformity among the Jewish people. (Albeit, unsuccessfully.) The Pharisees are all about religion.

Jesus is not.

Last night I was not only reminded of how liberating, but also how scary new wineskins can be, as I sat around a living room with four men that I care deeply about … talking about life, and about jobs and wives and houses …. and how faith in Jesus plays into all of those other areas. It’s scary because there is no order of service to hide behind. No accepted and accustomed practices that we could retreat to in comfort and safety. There were only five guys, trying to be real about life. Life lived with faith.

So today I am living a little more liberated. Because becoming a disciple of Jesus requires that we move beyond mere religion to relational faith – with Him and with others. Only then do we experience the power of love and grace. As we not only learn truth (as religion is apt to teach), but with help, apply truth to our lives (as genuine community makes possible.) Oz Guiness calls it “the responsibility of knowing.” Christians must not only learn and know, but we must then do something with that knowledge. Or risk becoming a Pharisee.

So what does Jesus offer? Himself. And that is enough. The Presence of Christ in us, the Living God, demands our growth and change and transformation … or else we will dry rot or burst open. So, are you taking the safe, comfortable path of the old, or the risky but liberating path in pursuit of new wineskins?

Newly yours,
Harry

Recognize and respond

2007-01-08T09:25:00.000-05:00

“Earth’s crammed with Heaven, and every common bush afire with God; but only he who sees takes off his shoes.” Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Have you ever heard of a blivet? It’s a word we use in our family (I don’t know if it’s a real word … but we use it nonetheless) that describes a 5 pound bag that is full of 10 pounds of stuff. For instance, when I search for the notes I made to myself on my desk I discover a blivet – 2 tons of papers on a quarter ton desktop. Baby diapers, Tupperware cabinets and plastic trash bags are might also be referred to as blivets in many circumstances. I have also discovered that for too much of the past several months, my schedule could be considered a blivet, and much like ruptured garbage bags and diapers .. that can be messy.

Some time back I borrowed a phrase that, until I shared with a friend recently, I had forgotten. The wise counsel reminds me that If I have too much to do, I am doing more than God asks of me. There is a part of our faith development that demands we accept that fact that life may appreciate our efforts, but life does not find us irreplaceable. God delights in our participation with Him in kingdom building, but our withdrawal from the task does not hamstring God. The key to our success is not that we accomplished many things, or that we accomplished good things .. but that we accomplish the right things.

And what are the right things? Those things that God lays before us. Period. Which requires that I be paying attention to what God is laying before me. Which brings me to Ms. Browning’s words, and my New Year’s resolutions, which can be summed up in two words: recognize and respond. I am determined to pay attention more keenly, because if earth is a blivet – overflowing with Heaven – then I want to see as much of it as I can. I don’t want to miss one marvel that God intends for me to enjoy. Or one prompting that He intends for me to receive. Attentiveness as an intentional habit tends to develop an innate understanding of our circumstances anyway. Which means I will operate more naturally in the realm of God’s will. Always a good thing. But recognition loses value if it is not yoked with response, so I am committed to tear down the barriers to my immediate response to God moments in my life. That will require some intentionality with respect to my time and my treasure … but a resolution without intention is nothing more than a wish.

So here’s to your ability to see the fire of God in the common bushes of your day, and to your having the good sense when you do … to take off your shoes.

Walking barefoot,
harry

For God or With God?

2006-10-19T11:19:00.000-04:00

"I find He never guides us into an intolerable scramble of panting feverishness." -Thomas Kelly

A couple of years ago I ran across a phrase that I found so simple, yet profound that I borrowed and adopted it for my very own. The originator (at least, where I discovered it) was the spiritual giant, Richard Foster, who summarizes our existence as apprentice imitators of Jesus with the moniker, The With-God Life.

Sadly, it’s a phrase I have drifted from. Not that I have drifted away from faith, or away from devotion, or any other measure of orthodoxy. Yet in a deviously subtle manner, I found myself living the For-God Life, rather than the With-God Life. The difference, as they say, is the difference between lightning and lightning bug.

The For-God Life is exhausting, and ultimately frustrating. It is a ravenous monster of appearances and rituals whose hunger is never satisfied. So the activities never cease. Yet, the engagement in things "for God," fatigues rather than replenishes the soul. There is little peace, and even less joy, in spiritual and physical exhaustion.

A wise and faith-filled member of my family offered me a wake-up view of the For-God Life, and by doing so, reminded me that what we are adopted into is a life-giving, life-sustaining relational position in the family of our Father. And it is only With-Him, not For-Him, that we have streams of living water that flow out of us. So if you woke up this morning with a deep tiredness that went far beyond your body to your soul, hear my friendly reminder: God does not want you to live for Him, so much as God wants you to live with Him.

With God,
harry

Graying before My Eyes ...

2006-08-24T14:10:00.000-04:00

They appeared as rogue strands of pale against the black backdrop that is my 42 year old head of hair. At first .. randomly, but now gaining steam and momentum. And while I have never shied away from them before, embracing my tiny banners of wisdom ... now I breathe deeply and pray.

My oldest daughter is driving.

Teenagers are God's chance for parents to repent and pray harder ... especially when they take to the roadways. And truthfully, Ali is a good driver. It's everyone else I worry about. And Emi (15) is currently on a daily countdown until her "time" arrives. At least Ragen (6) is still more interested in when it will be her turn to pick what's for supper.

I love my family. Almost without fail, when God takes on a project of transformation inside of me, He has me work out the nuts and bolts with these 4 ladies first (now Robin's included, as well.) What's the point of loving HIV patients if I don't love them first? Why serve a church, or a neighborhood, if I don't first serve them? If I can't be patient with my wife and daughters, how will I be as patient and kind as Jesus to strangers?

So, I just started laughing a little while ago, because I've been preaching on patience and perseverance ... during the season of my life when I'm releasing my oldest child to the streets and byways. Go God ... what a sense of humor! And by the way ... if anyone sees a dark grey 1990 Cadillac with 3 girls in it ... please yield.

Peace. ... and patience.

Obedience

2006-08-10T07:14:00.000-04:00

Quite by accident, I suppose, I received a surge of God's grace and blessings that left me enjoying wave upon wave of joy-filled peace. I was able to survey a situation and calmy reflect that I had no idea how it would turn out ... and not feel responsible for manufacturing the outcome. I stepped out of my designed comfort and into His purposes without needing to know the probablity of results beforehand.

I obeyed.

Plain and simple. Did what God told me, with motives only to do what He told me. And watched Him work. And learned two things: 1) The grace to obey in large moments flows from the surrendering to grace daily in small moments. 2) There is power in obedience that I easily forget about. God moves and blesses and works in and through my obedience.

It's not one of our favorite words, that's for sure. It seems to rob us of autonomy and independence. Sort of marginalizes our grand plans and finely honed abilitites. I was reminded this week though, that obedience is the evidence of faith. So here's to celebrating less of me and more of Him. Less plotting, more obeying.

Learning to Love the Person of Christ

2006-08-08T10:18:00.000-04:00

I love Jesus! I love everything about Him. I love the way He is depicted in the Gospels. I love the way He is portrayed in (most) films. I love the way I picture Him in my mind.

And I am learning to love Him ... His reality and presence in my life.

Merton once wrote that he could not abandon his life to a Rule or an Order. Contemplation, he wrote, was not a big enough ideal to give his life to. He concludeed that he needed Christ, and His Passion and Resurrection to believe in. I have become very aware that this is the season of my spiritual life -- becoming intentionally aware of and falling in love with, the Person of Jesus Christ.

Lectio divina is opening the door for the Living Word to truly come alive in me.
Times of being alone in silence are awakening in me the abiity to hear and know His voice.
Fasting has allowed me to feast on hidden bread.

I have lived much of my Christian life attached to ideals, but none provide the power and machination to make life abundant ... much less eternal. One by one, the idols of my ideals are toppling in favor of an all-consuming Love, made real and personal in the Person of Jesus. I have decided that I have spoken way too much about Jesus... and loving Him ... and following Him ... and listening to Him.... without really acknowledging His personhood. But that is not (and has not) been enough .. and so I journey on in faith that this Friend I am getting to know better, really is the Son of God, the Savior of the world .... and the Way, Truth and Life.

On Vanities and Pride

2006-08-03T11:18:00.000-04:00

"I resolved totally to leave off some of my Vanities; but there was a secret Reserve, in my Heart, of the more refined part of them, and I was not low enough to find Peace." -- John Woolman

The power of Pride and the truth about Humility are difficult concepts for my brain and heart to get wrapped around. The vestiges of self-centeredness and self-exultation that remain in the secret places of my heart, rear their heads in the most unexpected of ways: in a feeling of superiority, in a misdirected expectation that I should be treated with more fairness and respect, in the strand of thought that courses through every decision and conversation -- namely, that at the core I want what I want.

How pervasive is that root of Pride!?

And then to attempt to grasp Humility ... not self-effacement. Not self-degredation. But the relinquishment of claim to my present or my future, because I have chosen to recognize the soverignty of Another ... it is a low place indeed that brings me Peace. That low place is not accesssible throught the portals of "normal life," either of conventional wisdom or contemporary cultural norms. That low place is found only is secret and quiet ... at the foot of the cross and outside of the empty tomb.

But it is there, that I can view Him, and simultaneously, myself through His eyes. Loved beyond measure, formed in His likeness ... yet broken by my own insistence ways and choices. And redeemed by His Insistent and Unrelenting Love.

Thank You, Lord, for low places and the Peace that You furnish those places with.

100 miles in 24 hours

2006-08-01T18:03:00.000-04:00

Once while reading a Richard Foster book, I came across his opinion that the most profound, influential writer he had ever read was The Journal of John Woolmam. At the library the other day, I picked up a copy of the Quaker Reader because it contained extensive excerpts from this title. It's no wonder Foster was been so moved! Woolmam is deeply committed to discovering and dwelling in the perfect will of God, and is both thoughtful and practical as he applies God's will to his life.

One of my favorite passages was when Woolman lamented that "Stage-coaches frequently go upwards of an hundred miles in twenty-four hours," as evidence of the increasingly frentetic pace of the mid-18th century. "So great is the hurry in the spirit of this world," he writes, "that in aiming to do business quick and to gain wealth, the creation at this day doth loudly groan!"

He may have pre-dated the Scientific, Industrial and Technological Revolutions ... but ole' John was pretty astute. Lord forgive me from a spirit bound up in so great a hurry! Amen.

Peace. (And less haste.)

Sharing the Heaviness

2006-07-31T21:37:00.000-04:00

I spent a good portion of this afternoon and evening at eh hospital with my dear friend Dave, and his brother Donald, and their dying mother. It was a conversation that touched on heaven, baseball, family, the church and a wide vaiety of topics designed to alternately explore and ignore the heaviness in the room. It was not a heaviness of hopelessness. Nor a heaviness of faithlessness. It was the heaviness of faitigue.

On Christmas morning, December 25, Dave's son Isaac had a massive seizure and was rushed to the hospital. Doctors told Dave and Amy that their son would not live until New Year's Day. But he did, and not long afterwards, Isaac was diagnosed with HLH (the full medical name escapes me, now) and has since been transferred from lexington to Cincinnati Children's, where last week he marked his seventh month in ICU. The seizure damaged his brain, and as a result, Isaac lost his sight. But he fights for life daily, as Dave and Amyjuggle turns at his bedside, with care for their other two children.

In February, Dave's dad had a stroke and was hospitalized, where he died a few days later. I rememebr talking on the phone with Dave as he anguished over whether to be a the bedside of his dying father or his dying son. In the meantime, Dave's mom was infected with a mutant staph infection called necrotizing fascitis, the flesh eating infection. (She was not able to attend the funeral for her husband, because she was in ICU.) The stress on her body caused her to have a massive heart attack, and she has been in ICU at UK Med Center since late January. Today, her sons Dave and Donald had to hear doctors tell them that she was failing, and they and to make decisions about life-support.

According to James 1, where we are instructed to count our sufferings as joy, my friend Dave should be the happiest SOB in the world. The beautiful thing is ... Dave is still standing on the faith that God is good, and will redeem all of these hurts. But that doesn't change the fact that he is tired ... emotionally drained. It makes me feel ashamed for indulging in even a small pity party. And it makes me deeply grateful for God's grace, that can transcend our hurts and pains and exhaustion.

Pray for Dave. And Edna, his mom. And his son Isaac. And Amy, Dave's wife. And Donald, hs brother. And don't miss a chance to thank God for His blessings.

Peace,
harry

Ctrl + Alt + Delete (Or ... 'I wish I was perfect.')

2006-07-28T09:59:00.000-04:00

I agree with Kathleen Norris -- perfection is one of the scariest words I know. Jesus' call to 'be perfect because [my] heavenly Father is perfect' really intimidates me. I know, I know .. perfect means mature and complete and all that. We are positionally perfect because we are justified, etc., etc. etc. I just want to think and talk and act perfectly... that's all.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't have a ctrl + alt + delete moment, where I wish I could take back something that I said or did or dwelled on. While each of those moments brings me to a new moment of forgiving grace (Thank God .. literally!) -- I hate the way my peace and joy are interrupted by my un-Christ-like moments.

What I am realizing with new conviction is that in my desire to be like Jesus, what makes me available to be made more like Him in 'moments' is to be more intentionally like Him in habit. The vast array of practices that Jesus engaged in to stay 'perfect' are such an incredible arsenal for my own spiritual battles. I am learning everyday what power there is in grace -- not just forgiveness -- but the very Spirit and power of God coursing through me as I make room and become available. Any time ... any day or portion of the day .. that I forget or neglect to view my thoughts, words and actions as spiritual opportunitites (indeed, as spiritual) ... I regret it.

What I am seeing is a seismic shift in how I pray. Instead of asking for things that I konw God wasnts to give me (peace, love, joy, strength, etc.) ... I am asking Him to keep my heart tethered to His so that I am moving in rhythm with His will. I know this won't bring me to perfection (yet) but I am hopeful that I'll have fewer ctrl + alt + del moments.

Lord, by the love of Jesus Christ compel me to a new awareness of You in every moment of this day. Thank you for Your grace. Amen.

Patience ... praying for it?

2006-07-26T12:18:00.000-04:00

A conversation several weeks ago produced an interesting revelation for me: a woman I know commented how her intentions and desires to follow Jesus were hamstrung by circumstances. I was praying already for God to show me a way through some irregularitites and abnormal circumstances that were a part of my family's life at the time. With my routine and schedule disrupted, many of my 'spiritual' practices and habits were also disrupted ... some for an extended period of time. I sensed that my growing irritation at these circumstances was multiplied by the gnawing spiritual frustration that accompanied my broken disciplines.

Then I found Dallas Willard's description of the 'Golden triangle' of spiritual formation, which included "the faithful acceptance of everyday problems, and endurance of trials with patience." Frankly, I needed the wake-up that every day is an opportunity to grow more like Jesus Christ, or to drift toward self-exaltation. The old bumper sticker: "This IS your life" came to mind. I needed to see anew that God's ability to be present in every moment and circumstance was tied to my willingness to be available to Him in every moment and circumstance. With this, God has awakened in me a desire to pray for and grow in patience, because my life (like everyone else's, I think) is never 'normal.' There are always interruptions, troubles and trials ... sometimes more intense than others, but ALWAYS present. So this stage of my journey is intentionally engaging in disciplines that allow God to grow with grace in the virtue of patience.

I know that fasting is one disipline toward this end. I also am finding a new emphasis on solitude helpful, but I am also curious about other people's experiences in self-denial and waiting. I'd love to hear what has been helpful, what has been difficult and what has been effective.

Thanks ... and peace to you,
harry

Lessons in Bean-Picking

2006-07-25T09:43:00.000-04:00

I spent a couple of hours last evening up to my thighs in bean vines and hogweeds. By my own choice. Well, OK ... my wife may have been the impetus for this activity .. but I did agree.

We decided to resurrect a practice we use to engage in -- namely raising and canning some vegetables for winter enjoyment. Problem is, we used to garden when we lived on a farm or in a parsonage at the rural church we served. Now, we are smack dab in the middle of ... GASP! ... town. With too much dog (a St. Bernard) and too little yard to effectively 'garden.' With that in mind, my mother and father in law wondered aloud if we would collaborate with them on a vegetable-raising effort, and since they (a) don't have a dog, (b) have tons of good, unused, fertile soil; and (c) are experiencing declinging health while trying to combat that with better nutrition ..... it seemd like the logical thing to do. Only problem -- they live an hour away. However, since (a) I truly love my in-laws, (b) my wife deals with guilt from our moving an hour away when we accepted this calling to Richmond, and (c) I saw this as the only dependable way to get my hands on loads of vine-ripened tomatoes .... about 2 - 3 months ago we spent a Saturday tilling and digging and sowing.

Ta - da!! A garden was born. And I looked at it ... and it was good. And so we came home. Until a few weeks ago (we've visited since then ... just not done much 'gardening.") when cucumbers starting gowing among the greenery out in the dirt patch. So we picked and we ate. And it was good. Then came squash. And some more squash. And even some more squash. And it too, wad good. Along the way we enjoyed some of the sweetest cabbage ever eaten by mortals, several 'messes' (that is a GOOD Southern word) of beets, broccoli, brussel sprouts and cauliflower. In fact we were so busy picking and eating lettuce and greens and okra that we neglected to till/hoe/or otherwise weed the Roma and Half Runner green beans. And green beans? Well, that is THE staple of southern vegetable canning (along with tomatoes.)

By my calculations ... one hour from my house there are approximately 2,674,843 bushels of green beans. All they needed was to be picked, broken into pieces, put into jars and sealed. My mother in law (who I really do love) was apoplectic that one of those beans might spoil, so last night ... after a full day's work for me, a full day of classes for my wife, two soccer practices, a football practice (my oldest daughter is one of the team managers) and the caging of a frog that my 6 year old has adopted ... (Whew, let me get me breath) .... we drove an hour and picked beans for two hours.

I've learned several lessons for the remainder of my journey following Jesus:
1) The whole 'Sower and the Seed' parable takes on a fuller and more profound meaning when you really put some seeds in the dirt, dig your fingers into the earth and watch to see what happens. God can make some wonderful things grow and bear fruit, but how the seed is received sure does make a difference.
2) Good things ... even and maybe especially, good things that grow beyond your understanding or power ... still require effort and intention. Or as Dallas Willard says "Grace is opposed to earning, not effort." Bean picking would be much more enjoyable and loads more productive, if the hogweeds had been chopped down.
3) For all the packaging and supplements and preservatives, and the benefit they bring .... God's plan to feed us off the land tastes pretty good and works pretty well. There is a insight into simplicity that I have gained by my feeble gardening efforts this year. One that I was not prepared to learn when we lived in the country, because I was not so conscious and intentional about the need and value of solitude and simplicity and silence. Then again, in the country, maybe I didn't need to be.
4) It never hurts to be diligent. Much of our gardening has been well-done, but the failure to weed the beans has come at a price. Neglecting even small or seemingly inconsequential areas of life almost always comes back to haunt us.

Well .. I'm through. I've got work to do, practces to shuttle for ... and some beans to break and ready for the jars. Maybe one day you can sit down at my table and enjoy a 'mess' with me. Until then, peace to you ....

harry

Renewal ...

2006-07-22T07:51:00.000-04:00

I once read a wonderful little book called "The School of Christ" by T. Austin Sparks. It contained one of the more memorable phrases that I've ever come across. Sparks is writing about the process of following Jesus, and how we labor in our human tendencies to imitate His behavior by effort and good intention. And how we fail ... then despair of our failure, repent and renew our commitment to follow Him. Until one day, after literally countless cycles of effort-failure-recognition-repentace-renewal .... we fail and are overwhelmed by the thought "I can't do this!"

That moment, Sparks writes, is the Great Despair, and it out of that moment that we can really begin to live life dependently upon Jesus. Although I have had to be reminded a few times, I can recall with clarity a time several years ago (but several yers after I began my Chrstian journey) when I endured the Great Despair. Out of that brokenness my life changed dramatically. Grace was sweeter and more real. Christ's strength was more powerful and available. I reveled in both love and mercy, and grew in faith as I never had before.

Over the past 2 years I have been struggling with another aspect of despair -- surrounding the church and my role in it. Whether it was birthed by my official entrance into "middle age," (which brought to my constant attention a new sense of urgency) or by my 'new' understandings of God's love and the church's mission -- I don't really know. I do know that I found the way church was being done sucked the very life out of me. I spiraled into negativity and cynicism (not good places for a pastor to be) and found myself focusing on "doing" the things that people expected a pastor to do .... without following Christ.

This internal struggle reached a zenith this summer, in part because I was determined to wrestle with God as Jacob did at Peniel, until I figured out what I was supposed to do. Change congregations? Start a new one? Explore the avenues available in the so-called house church? My family and I left town for a vacation at the beach -- my wife, 3 daughters and 2 of their friends. (Yeah, I know ... some would not call 10 hours in the car with 6 girls a vacation!) A suntan and good seafood were the main goals expressed by all, but I left town with a deep desire to meet God in a fresh way, albiet in a fresh place.

The Father once told Jeremiah that if His children sought Him with their whole heart, they would surely find Him. Freed from religious routine and pastoral expectations, I poured my whole heart out --- I broke before Him. And found myself held in the arms of God. Renewed in faith, if not in strength. Renewed in passion, if not yet perfectly in practice. Renewed in mission, with the question of 'where?' taken off the table.

My Second Great Despair in life happened on a beachfront at sunrise ... when I faced the unquestionable reality that I couldn't manage, manipulate or mass produce a church full of people that desperately and devotedly wanted to follow Jesus. I also faced again my First Great Despair, that when I focus on what I am doing, rather than who I am doing what I am doing ... I cannot succeed. I become religious but abandon my dependence on Christ. In both ases, I discovered the answer to my despair was in Him.

Now I am at home ... comfortable with the place that God has planted me, even though few of the questions about how to make this garden burst into bloom are answered. But I am renewed in my understanding that I must flower first, not because I am a pastor, but because I am a disciple .. a follower .. an imitator of the Lily of the Valley. There is much liberation that comes along with that ... and with that freedom, a renewal of enthusiasm and determination to be the best pastor that I can be ... as he guides me and allows me and empowers me.

I pray that if you are in a season of trials and struggling with hopelessness, that God will bring you to the Great Despair quickly. I pray that you may find in Him ... renewal.

Peace.

Theory, practice and contemplation

2006-05-22T09:32:00.000-04:00

While not intending to pile on (being that I have read several posts on this subject, of late) I am moved by words from Fr. Louis' pen (as I often am) that are resonating with where I am these days. Merton writes:

"If there is one truth that people need to learn, in the world, especially today, it is this: the intellect is only theoretically independent of desire and appetite in ordinary, actual practice. It is constantly being blinded and perverted by the ends and aims of passion, and the evidence it presents to us with such a show of impartiality and objectivity is fraught with interest and propaganda. We have become marvelous at self-delusion." The Seven Storey Mountain; Thomas Merton

Or, as A shared from "Freddie" -- we hear what we expect, or want to hear. When the Word is read or spoken, we hear what we expect or want. When we 'learn' something through observation or vicariously through other's testimonies -- what we 'know' is filtered through our preconceptions, our predispositions, our experiences, our personalitites ... and in the end, we are devious in rationalizing our 'knowledge' so that it conforms to our passions and desires.

Contemplation, seems to me, to be one of the few antidotes to our self-delusion. When I perform my professional vocations (pastor, teacher, preacher), my God-given roles (husband, father, friend, son, brother) or my amateur hobbies (reading, theology, spiritual formation) there is always the possibility that what I 'learn' is merely theoretical. A particular line of reasoning becomes a means to end, rather than a tool for God to speak life and the kingdom into my world (or through me, someone else's.) It is only when I allow God to speak to me through what I am learning -- independent of what I hope to use that knowledge for -- that I actually 'learn' something of eternal value. Only then can I 'hear' and be changed.

Contemplation, for me, forces me to engage God rather than engaging material about God. And transformation happens through Him, because I am powerless to resist. Which is where I want to be -- powerless against the love of God. The alternative is delusional resistance to knowledge about God - hearing what I want to hear and changing only what I want to change.

I am truly surprised by the level of hostility and criticism that many reveal toward the mere mention of 'contemplative Christianity.' Some criticism seems to come from those who believe 'contemplating' amounts to way too much thinking. 'After all, just believe the Word, brother.' And all will be well. The other end of the spectrum seeems equally present in condemning 'contemplation -- arguing that contemplation and mysticism seek an 'experience' that is not available to believers. There is, it seems to some, only knowledge of and about God.

I prefer to know God Himself. And to be known. And to spend time dwelling in that place where Spirit engages my spirit, and I am released to see the things I think I know and have learned as they are reflected in Him. I prefer to create space that allows Him to transform my heart, rather than trying to absorb enough information so that my mind will (hopefully) be transformed. I prefer to bridge theory and practice with His grace and power, not mine. And for me ... contemplation builds that bridge and opens that door.

Battling God

2006-05-11T10:40:00.000-04:00

Frederick Buechner calls God

"the beloved enemy. Our enemy because, before giving us everything, He demands of us everything; before giving us life, He demands our lives – ourselves, our wills, our treasure."

Man, am I wrestling with this.

I suspect that most of us, if we were (or even could be) honest would admit that we are striving with God over control of our lives. It’s ridiculously hard enough to relinquish control when circumstances are out of our range of power – like with disease or death. When we can find solace in surrender because there is no other option. But even more difficult is the voluntary surrender of our selves when we have a choice.

When life’s circumstances push me into a corner of inadequacy or near-despair, I find my ‘faith’ willing and able to trust God through even painful times, because I in no way want to face the prospect of those painful times without Him. So I surrender to Him. ‘Lord, have Your way. Work as You will. Be glorified in me, even in my pain."

Sometimes my pain is not so obvious, nor so unavoidable. Sometimes my pain comes because I get lazy, or I get comfortable. I see my imperfections and inadequacies and grow deeply frustrated at my unfruitfulness. Yet, my state of being is reflective of my choice to surrender or fight.

So why do I fight God? Why keep room for grudges or harbor resentments? Why choose deception over authenticity? Why hoard when I could give generously? Why judge when I could be gracious? Why discriminate when I could love? Why ignore when I could be compassionate? Why choose anger over peace? Lust over love? Envy over encouragement?

I don’t have the answer – only the knowledge that when I view life and God through my own perspectives, I find myself worthy of defense. My will seems important. My agenda seems noble. My reputation seems battle-worthy. So I fight to maintain me.

When I view life and myself through God’s perspective, I am much more apt to surrender. To see me for who I am – and for Who I am not. And in contrast, my will and agenda and reputation seem meaningless. Certainly not worth fighting for.

But I am ever thankful that Jesus did fight for me. That on the cross He battled for me, so that through His resurrection power I might not have to. I could surrender. And enjoy what Buechner calls the "victory, the magnificent defeat of the human soul at the hand of God."

Defeated … again,
harry

Another Monday coming down ...

2006-05-08T10:52:00.000-04:00

With apologies to Kris Kristofferson the overcast skies and cool temps this morning made me think out loud that this "looks like a Monday." Actually, this Monday is different than recent others, because for the first time in memory I don't enter Monday with every minute of the week already scheduled. I felt a bit ashamed that so quickly after beginning a blog I abandoned it. The dynamics at work in my life lately have been so varied and so intense that I didn't feel like I could spare any energy on this activity.

If that were the end, that would be nothing new -- another blogger-wannabe falling by the roadside. But the battle for my schedule was carried out on more fields than the blogosphere. I am reminded that a big part of transformation is discerning what is best in the face of many things that could be good. To choose wrongly is to invite frustration and even despair. To err in discerning where God is inviting you is to open the door to feelings of being trapped, as if life is some cruel, cosmic puppet theatre ... and you almost feel the strings making your arms and legs jump uncontrollably.

I know the the way to the exit -- it is through silence and solitude and seeking Him. yet I am hindered by the seemingly huge outlay of time and mental energy that is required to even choose what must be jettisoned to make space in my life to hear God. Like a gerbil on a exercise wheel, when I try to stop the spinning I gt flipped upside down and thrown into the sawdust.

So this morning I thank God for a break to catch my breath. To feel like I can listen for a minute, so that I don't race off into another maelstrom. Today i find cause for worship in jesus' amazing ability to balance humanity and divinity -- the physical and spiritual. Not dualistically, but even as they enmeshed in His life. Present in every moment, content to walk away when necessary, yet all without overloading any future moments. Much to learn, have I.

Peace.

Silence and community (Or, how porcupines are friends..)

2006-04-27T09:52:00.000-04:00

I once read a story about several porcupines who huddled together in a den under an old tree during a winter storm. The wet, bitter cold kept pushing them closer together in an attempt to warm themselves, but as they drew nearer to each other, they would begin to feel the needles of one another's quills. So they would add some distance between themselves. The night continued as an odd little dance of moving closer out of necessity, feeling the pain of nearness and backing away again in self-protection, until at some point the porcupines discovered the acceptable balance of proximity. There they each felt a bearable amount of pain and a modicum of warmth.

When Bryan Sherwood quoted Rich Mullins earlier this week, it got me thinking about love and pain. And the odd little dance that I have witnessed (and partcipated in) as people try to figure out space and relationship in the spiritual context. Even when we don't realize it, or aren't able to articulate it, the drive to be in relationship is powerful. We need others, yet we are frightened by the potential (or real) pain of getting "too close." So we pull back, put on a facade .. whatever. Anything to create some distance.

And yet the other edge of the communal sword is sharpened by those who smother and cling and never want to be alone. Without experiencing the chill of aloneness, the warmth of company is devalued. Again I find myself on the scales of self-examination, weighing my routines and relationships, and re-discovering the immense need I have for balance.

I need my friends and family ... but I also need time solitude.
I need group gatherings that are loud and boisterous ... but I also need silence.
I need times of deep emotion where I connect with my feelings ... but I also need cerebral times of objective reflection.
I need exercise ... but I also need rest.
I need to express myslef ... but I also need to listen.

I don't think I am alone in this. Every day is another chance for me to be a porcupine -- to maneuver myself into the delicate place of balance between what brings me pleasure and what brings me pain. I'm thankful for God's ability and practice of meeting me in both.

Peace,
harry

Bonhoeffer, community and vocational clergy

2006-04-26T12:03:00.000-04:00

I have been re-reading Ruth Haley Barton's masterpiece (my editorial opinion) "Invitation to Silence and Solitude" and found these two reminders from Pastor Deitrich:

"Right speech comes out of silence; right silence comes out of speech."

And, this:

"Let him who cannot be alone beware of community... Let him who is not in comunity beware of being alone.."

I think it's interesting how connected Bonhoeffer finds silence and talking, and community and solitude. I have been exploring my own thoughts about "lay monasticism" lately and just how to integrate and combine a non-sequestered life with practices and spiritual disciplines (most) often mastered by those living in traditional monastic settings. Just where are the boundary lines? How do you create space BOTH for meaningful silence (which for me almost necessitates solitude) and meaningful community? (See Kyle Potter's thoughtful post on community life and loving others.)

I must admit -- this is for me one of the great challenges in this season of my journey with Jesus. I struggle with the issues of separation and stratus that plague vocational ministry, and then am led down the parallel alley of wondering how missional/communal/monastic Christianity can ever be assimilated by institutional 'church.' I don't even throw that out as part of the bevy of issues that comprimise and corrupt the western church (although goodness knows I experience and understand THOSE frustrations) -- I mean is it literally possible to experience community in a environment that is structured with vocational clergy?

I cannot help but notice how many bloggers in this thematic spectrum of the blogosphere are ex-vocational clergy. More thoughts later on silence and speech.

Peace,
harry

Victories, Pity Parties and Miracles

2006-04-21T17:13:00.000-04:00

I need to read some 1 Kings 19 again... get reminded about ole' Elijah. This week I came down from a Holy Week high -- I mean last week was full of Him .. worship, sweet communion, powerful reflective time. Then I ran straight down from Mt. Carmel and into the desert! What gives? I've stressed, I've been distracted, I'm fatigued ... and the line forming to bear witness to my Christlikeness is pretty short.

I am reminded of (a) how intentional I'm supposed to be. (yeah, never had to learn that one before!) and (b) how vital kingdom relationships are. Man I can convince myself of almost anything ... even things I know are wrong. Since I had neither been intentional nor very reliant on my friends, I had about decided to just get good and irritated at myself and the world. And then a funny thing happened on the way to my pity party. Just as I was choosing to dive into a deep ole' funk of guilt and recrimination -- I got a message that my best friend's little boy, who has been hospitalized in Critical Care at Cincinnati Children's since December 25th ... cried. No big deal to you, but his showing emotion (for the first time in 4 months) was a sign to doctors that his brain damage (from seizures) was improving. Mysteriously. Inexplicably. Miraculously.

It made me think ... I have prayed for miracles when I did not receive what I thought I needed. And even this God-given improvement is no guarantee of the little fella's future ... but for today, it was enough that God showed up. Elijah got in the deep doo-doo of despair because he started playing the 'what if' game. He stopped engaging God in the present .. in the moment.. and began wondering what was going to happen tomorrow.

That's me this week I realized. There are no future miracles ...only the miracles God chooses to work in the here and now. Those miracles aren't always healings and deliverance .. sometimes they are miracles of a friend's encouragement. Sometimes the peace of being fully yielded to the Spirit. Places where the resurrection that we celebrated last week is given opportunity to bring new life.

And nothing is more miraculous than that.

Peace.

Resurrection Prayers

2006-04-19T13:34:00.000-04:00

"The problem is that taken out of the context of resurrection wonder, any prayer soon becomes an act of idolatry -- reducing God to what we can use for our purposes, however noble and useful." (Eugene Peterson; Living The resurrection p.33)

For some reason as I read these words, the chorus of an old hymn rang in my head:

Have Thine own way, Lord, have Thine own way;
Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.
Take me and make me, after Thy will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still.

I scurried through my prayer time today ... anxious to keep my divine appointment, uninterrupted by the rest of my day. And yet, it has been the rest of my day where I have seen and heard from God the most. It is because I am having to learn (and apparently, I'm real slow to get this) -- waiting. On the beauty and power of being yielded and still. Peteron makes a beeline from preaching to meddling though, and I find myself under the weight of conviction. My prayers, when they well up from my own springs, miss the mark in meeting my thirst. My "noble and useful" efforts even include such "good things" as my own spiritual transformation and the deepening faith life of our church family ... but still exist, at best, in parallel to God will. At worst, they intersect or run in the opposite direction. Only by yielding my conversation to His presence, possible through the majesty of resurrected life, can I move in harmony with Him.

Lord, help me to learn to wait for You and yield to You. Forgive my manipulations and arrogance. Amen.

Insiders and outsiders

2006-04-18T12:11:00.000-04:00

I am reading Walter Brueggemann's book, The Bible Makes Sense, in which the distinguished Old Testament scholar offers several perspectives on Biblical interpretation. One line of reasoning that Brueggemann pursues, in addressing the narrative of the Bible, is to say:

"This is the most important story we know, and we have come to believe it is decisively about us. This story is clearly for the insiders, and no effort at all is made to persuade or convince outsiders." (p.46)

My initial doubts are being supplanted as I give this some consideration. Perhaps it is just this idea that makes Christianity vulneralbe to such works of fiction as The Da Vinci Code and the Gospel of Judas. Even more alarmingly, that vulnerability is extended into the church through ignorance, apathy and shallowness. One recent conversation with a couple provides an illustration.

"What kind of church is this?"
Christian. We believe in and follow Jesus Christ.
"OK, but like, what kind of Christian church is this?"
Um, we are a Bible believing, independent congregation.
"Are you full gospel or mainline?"
Well, we do believe in the entire gospel.
" Are you charismatic or liturgical?"
Hmm, we do believe in an active and present Holy Spirit. But what do you mean by liturgical?
"You know, are you traditional or contemporary?"
(Deep sigh.)

My sigh was less for their questions than for my hesitation, or paucity of answers. I live and breathe the chhurch. I read about the church. I write about the church. I study and preach and teach about the church. My passion is the church. I think vacation reading on the beach involves authors like Wright, Foster, Willard, McLaren, Brueggemann and Merton. How is it that I could come up short of words on my favorite subject in the whole world? My frustration was two-fold: (1) The rapid reduction of our society’s conversation about Christ’s church to mere bandying of such cliches and over-used labels. And, (2) My total lack of preparedness in having a catchy, bumper-sticker type witty retort on the end of my tongue – ready to dazzle this new family with my hipness and intellectual swagger.

Alright, I realize there is some tension there. But go with me on this. I guess I could have said We are a missional community, but I don't know if they woul have been any closer to understanding. For starters, I'm not sure that their intentions were, well ... honorable. There was a suspicion in the back of my mind that I was being put to a test. You kow, if we didn't toe the pure theological line of Reformation - Scottish Presbyterian -- Annabaptist -- Restoration -- Campbellite/Stone ... well we'd probably be headed for hell! Which was a question that plagued me far too much in my early Christian life. Even in the beginning years of ministerial work, I was too captivated by who was going to heaven and who wasn't. Every issue was a chance to jump the hurdle of orthodoxy or heresy. Like McLaren, time and (hopefully) wisdom have comvinced me that we ask that question too much. And it's not even our question to ask.

OK, so I've taken the scenic route to ask this question: How do you describe your church/community/family of faith? Because in some measure, 'what kind of church is this' translates into 'what kind of Christian are you?' And I'm searching for precise, catchy, thoughtful, clever, not cliched, ways to describe to outsiders just who I am. And who we are. Part of my trouble here is that I am in transition, and so many words that I possess come attached with baggage. But an ever greater difficulty is that much of what I believe about the church does not seem to evidence itself in the at-large perception of "churches." So for me, to ask this question is to try and establish how/where missional Christianity can co-exist within traditional church structures in America?

I wish I had the answer .... but I am still looking.

Peace,
harry

The opening gavel ...

2006-04-17T10:03:00.000-04:00

The day after Easter seems like an appropriate time to start something new, so here I go venturing into the blogosphere. It seems both a little pretentiouos and a lot overwhelming to try and explain why I feel driven to begin this exercise, but be that as it may ... I still am compelled to press on.

As if on cue, the rains came last night and baptized the earth -- and all is fresh and clean and alive. I love that feeling! Being saturated in the liturgy of resurrection this weekend has had profound effects on me -- my smile comes easily, and my tears do as well. Like Mary Magdalene, yesterday I heard Jesus call my name. While His voice was not audible - my heart heard and the only response I am capable of is to worship in wonder and gratitude.

My very-soon-to-be 6 year old taught me something about gratitude last night. She has had her heart set on a pet bunny for months, and yesterday delivered. Twice, in fact. But with so much activity swirling around church yesterday and that followed by the hour and half journey to Grandma's (and a rest-of-the-day visit) --- my little one had a grand total of about 20 minutes to play with her new pets. Late last night, as she lay down to finally go to sleep, she said "I can't wait for tomorrow." My wife reminded her that tomorrow was a school day. "I know," she replied. "But I am going to get to tell all my friends that I have two bunnies."

How little she needed to be overwhelmed with joy and thanks! I am reminded that too many times I allow my thanks and joy to be dependent upon "other stuff." My ever-growing list of books to buy... the plethora of tasks I am to complete... the numerous items to be scratched off the to-do list ... all clamor for my attention as a prelude to "resting" in my blessings. How shallow! The Lenten conviction that I had to simply my life has been carried past -- or maybe through -- the resurrection. The Living One so fills my senses this morning that shuffling priorities and deleting some 'things' from my screen seems not only possible ... but preferable. That is for me this year, the power of Easter. The ability and opportunity to be present at Jesus' re-creation of me. How amazing that through the remembrance, celebration, meditation and participation in the passion, death and finally .. gloriously .. the resurection of Christ ... I can recognize that a change has been wrought. From that beginning, I choose to live with and follow Him, as He continues to form me through and by His life.

In discussing the resuurection, Walter Brueggemann writes:

"[Jesus] manages to invert definitions so that what the world had thought was the way to death is the celebrative gift of life and what the world calls life He showed to be deathly existence." (The Bible Makes Sense p.86)

I am vulnerable to buying into the notion that busyness translates into importance. And I struggle with not letting my "stuff" make me the servant rather than the master. But tonight ... I think I'm going to throw a few things away. Call it an offering if you want. Then I'm going to ask my daughter if I can join her under the apple tree .. and play with some bunnies.

Peace,
Harry