I'm taking the easy way out again and writing a response to something I read recently, instead of coming up with something from scratch. It speaks of a topic that has been bugging me anyway. Here goes...
"Wherever we go we are surrounded by words: words softly whispered, loudly proclaimed, or angrily screamed; words spoken, recited, or sung; words in books, on walls or in the sky...Words, words, words! They form the floor, the walls, and the ceiling of our existence. It has not always been this way. There was a time not too long ago without radios or televisions...There was a time without the advertisements which now cover whole cities with words. All this is to suggest that words, my own included, have lost their creative power. Their limitless multiplication has made us lose confidence in words and caused us to think, more often than not, "They are just words." ...The word no longer communicates, no longer fosters communion, no longer creates community, and therefore no longer gives life...Often it seems that we who study or teach theology find ourselves entangled in such a complex network of discussions, debates, and arguments about God and "God-issues" that a simple conversation with God or a simple presence to God has become practically impossible. Our heightened verbal ability, which enables us to make many distinctions, has sometimes become a poor substitute for a single-minded commitment to the Word who is life." -Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart.
I too am guilty of this. I keep a blog for one thing--that's a continual temptation to just "say something" to fill up space with words. How can I keep from just multiplying meaningless words and actually write things of value? I feel convicted not only because of the volume of words I speak, but also because of the flood of words I so casually let into me, with little regard to whether they're true or worthwhile. I let in so much noise that I sometimes feel my ears and heart becoming numb. It leaves me in a fog, when what I hunger for is the crisp and clear Voice of God. In this book, Henri Nouwen emphasizes the importance of silence. Words that come out of silence are the most powerful he says.
During Lent I've been experimenting a little with this concept. I'm fasting from listening to pre-recorded music. That means no ipod, no cd's, etc. (I've decided that live music is ok, as well as singing, which I've been doing more of--yay!) Part of the reason for this particular kind of fast has been to give the music I own a chance to regain some of its meaning, so that when I listen to it again it will be more vibrant and alive, and I won't just be tuned out. I'll appreciate it more. After I read these statements by Nouwen, I realize another purpose is to reduce the flow of words into me, and to force me to be silent more.
But this Lent hasn't been a time where I have heard God speak very clearly. My ears still feel stuffed with cotton balls. I'm not convinced that I've come to a silent posture of my heart. Other noises have filled in the gap that listening to music has left. I've somehow found other distractions to run to. I need more detox still. More than that I need to come to a deeper place of trust, so that I can release all my tightly-held thoughts to God and let him fill me with His Word that is truth and life. I hold onto hope that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion. The delightful whispers of His voice I've heard thus far will continue and even increase in this life, and then culminate in a clear-eared and open-hearted endless conversation face to face when I've shed this earthly tent at last. Praise God!
3/24/09
2/23/09
God's Presence
I've been away far too long from my blog. I think I've been busy adjusting to living in a new place or something, a place which I realize I'm really growing to love. I want to get back to blogging more often, but will need to get into a better rhythm first. So take it easy on me as I build up steam :o)
I came across a quote today so good, that it inspired a blog post:
"The presence of God is not the same as the sense of the presence of God. The latter may be due to imagination; the former may be attended with no "sensible consolation." The act which engenders a child ought to be, and usually is, attended by pleasure. But it is not the pleasure that produces the child. Where there is pleasure there may be sterility: where there is no pleasure the act may be fertile. And in the spiritual marriage of God and the soul it is the same. It is the actual presence, not the sensation of the presence, of the Holy Ghost which begets Christ in us. The sense of the presence is a super-added gift for which we give thanks when it comes." -C.S. Lewis
I had a delightful conversation recently with a good friend of mine who had just had an epiphany--life in Christ is about a relationship with Jesus, who is an actual living person we relate to and interact with. It's not just about knowing the right stuff or living by a set of principles, it is interacting with the very real and present Jesus who dwells with us. She was a little shocked by the way that this simple truth was rattling her to the core. She said things like, "How could I have missed this?" and "What if I forget again?" "That's the beauty of it," I told her, "Because Jesus actually is a person who is involved in your life, he will faithfully love you through your blindness, and nudge you again until you notice he's there. He pursues you and this active relationship with him is always available to you, whenever you're awake to it. You'll "fall asleep" and not remember this all the time, but he'll be faithful to continually reawaken you!" What a joy to be part of that conversation!
When I came across this quote by C.S. Lewis, it took things a level deeper for me. My awareness of Jesus' presence need not produce any "feeling" of his presence. My simple acknowledgment and reliance upon his presence is enough. He is truly with me. What a freedom and simplicity this brings to the concept of "abiding in Christ." Let us all continually call to mind his presence, surrender to him, trust him and rely on him who never leaves us. Amen.
I came across a quote today so good, that it inspired a blog post:
"The presence of God is not the same as the sense of the presence of God. The latter may be due to imagination; the former may be attended with no "sensible consolation." The act which engenders a child ought to be, and usually is, attended by pleasure. But it is not the pleasure that produces the child. Where there is pleasure there may be sterility: where there is no pleasure the act may be fertile. And in the spiritual marriage of God and the soul it is the same. It is the actual presence, not the sensation of the presence, of the Holy Ghost which begets Christ in us. The sense of the presence is a super-added gift for which we give thanks when it comes." -C.S. Lewis
I had a delightful conversation recently with a good friend of mine who had just had an epiphany--life in Christ is about a relationship with Jesus, who is an actual living person we relate to and interact with. It's not just about knowing the right stuff or living by a set of principles, it is interacting with the very real and present Jesus who dwells with us. She was a little shocked by the way that this simple truth was rattling her to the core. She said things like, "How could I have missed this?" and "What if I forget again?" "That's the beauty of it," I told her, "Because Jesus actually is a person who is involved in your life, he will faithfully love you through your blindness, and nudge you again until you notice he's there. He pursues you and this active relationship with him is always available to you, whenever you're awake to it. You'll "fall asleep" and not remember this all the time, but he'll be faithful to continually reawaken you!" What a joy to be part of that conversation!
When I came across this quote by C.S. Lewis, it took things a level deeper for me. My awareness of Jesus' presence need not produce any "feeling" of his presence. My simple acknowledgment and reliance upon his presence is enough. He is truly with me. What a freedom and simplicity this brings to the concept of "abiding in Christ." Let us all continually call to mind his presence, surrender to him, trust him and rely on him who never leaves us. Amen.
9/16/08
The Problem With Justice...
Justice has been on my mind, and at times all the injustice of the world comes to the forefront of my mind and it feels overwhelming. Something rises up in me and is ready to fight fiercely. But sometimes something else cries out and tells me I am also to blame for the injustice I see.
Justice is a slippery thing. It eludes our grasp, and when we think we have arrived at a just judgment of someone or something, there's another angle we haven't seen. Maybe that's why God tells us not to judge--because we simply can't see everything. We don't really know what is in people's hearts, and even if they wanted to, they could not fully or clearly articulate their motives to us. We must see each other through a lens of grace, because we really can't see the whole story. And then there's the matter of 2 Peter 3:9, "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." God is patient with those who cause injustice, because he wants them to repent and not perish. His is a radical love.
So what constitutes true justice? If God's version of justice is slowing down a bit to give people time to repent, I think we need to avoid making a knee-jerk decision on what justice is, and sit in the question a little longer. For instance, is it true justice when a person is repaid for the evil they have done? Is justice only punishment? I'm grateful to a professor I had in college who taught that there are two kinds of justice: retributive justice (the punishing kind) and restorative justice. It is the latter form I am interested in. It is the latter form that has come to me. Rather than condemning me as a sinner, God has instead chosen to restore me--to take what is evil in me and replace it with good. This is true justice, to see what is broken, and restore it to wholeness--to call it back to what it is meant to be. True justice involves the Savior on the cross, and his triumphant resurrection. Jesus takes the unjust person, and transforms them into a person who lives justly.
Long not for justice, but for redemption. Therein lies true justice, when oppressors become lovers.
Justice is a slippery thing. It eludes our grasp, and when we think we have arrived at a just judgment of someone or something, there's another angle we haven't seen. Maybe that's why God tells us not to judge--because we simply can't see everything. We don't really know what is in people's hearts, and even if they wanted to, they could not fully or clearly articulate their motives to us. We must see each other through a lens of grace, because we really can't see the whole story. And then there's the matter of 2 Peter 3:9, "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." God is patient with those who cause injustice, because he wants them to repent and not perish. His is a radical love.
So what constitutes true justice? If God's version of justice is slowing down a bit to give people time to repent, I think we need to avoid making a knee-jerk decision on what justice is, and sit in the question a little longer. For instance, is it true justice when a person is repaid for the evil they have done? Is justice only punishment? I'm grateful to a professor I had in college who taught that there are two kinds of justice: retributive justice (the punishing kind) and restorative justice. It is the latter form I am interested in. It is the latter form that has come to me. Rather than condemning me as a sinner, God has instead chosen to restore me--to take what is evil in me and replace it with good. This is true justice, to see what is broken, and restore it to wholeness--to call it back to what it is meant to be. True justice involves the Savior on the cross, and his triumphant resurrection. Jesus takes the unjust person, and transforms them into a person who lives justly.
Long not for justice, but for redemption. Therein lies true justice, when oppressors become lovers.
8/11/08
Come Together
A couple weeks ago I was thinking about the power of games to unite people that wouldn't usually talk to each other. I was visiting my good friend one last time before she moved to the opposite coast from me, and one thing we did together was meet a friend of hers on the beach that works with high school age refugee kids. We had a blast throwing a football around, and eventually playing soccer. What amazed me was that when we were playing soccer, a stranger that none of us knew loaned us a ball to use, and then several other strangers joined in the game. The whole scene made me smile: a few Americans, a couple of Muslim girls wearing head scarves, several African guys, and some surfer dude looking guys we'd never met, all playing soccer together. All of us smiling, laughing and having a good time. No thought was given to our differences, only the common love of having a good time.
It got me thinking about the power of play--I usually tend to disregard it as something of little importance. I often think of it as something that kids need to do, but not so much adults. Well maybe adults need to play too, as it seems like a powerful tool to help us come together. It certainly helps to break the ice.
I've been reminded of these thoughts as I've watched the Olympics the past few days. I couldn't help but think that there are nations represented who are at war with each other, yet the much repeated message of the games has been that everyone is welcome, and that we're one world regardless of our differences. The images of smiling kids in all kinds of colorful cultural outfits take center stage, while the violence and oppression that nations and people inflict on one another are simply not mentioned. I wonder how much of of the "one world" sentiment is heartfelt and how much is just a facade. I get the impression that most people wish that this concept could be true, but that they feel it's too idealistic, and is best embraced as an ideal, not as something that could become reality.
Christians more than anyone else should be able to say honestly that everyone is welcome, and that we're one world. After all, we're part of a family that spans many geographical and political borders. We're part of a different Kingdom, and we have a different King. Geopolitical borders should seem superficial and largely unimportant to us. "I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb" (Rev. 7:9). We are right to respect and celebrate the differences between cultures, but let us not put up any walls between ourselves where God has not made them. There is only one kingdom, with only one Lord, and he is Jesus Christ!
Jesus says in Matthew 18:3 that unless we change and become like little children, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Maybe playing games does have great importance--after all, little children often welcome any playmate as long as the game is fun. Let us use any tool available to us to encourage unity, restore relationships, and bring reconciliation. Let us be reconciled to each other and to God. And let us continue our work on earth as ministers of reconciliation.
It got me thinking about the power of play--I usually tend to disregard it as something of little importance. I often think of it as something that kids need to do, but not so much adults. Well maybe adults need to play too, as it seems like a powerful tool to help us come together. It certainly helps to break the ice.
I've been reminded of these thoughts as I've watched the Olympics the past few days. I couldn't help but think that there are nations represented who are at war with each other, yet the much repeated message of the games has been that everyone is welcome, and that we're one world regardless of our differences. The images of smiling kids in all kinds of colorful cultural outfits take center stage, while the violence and oppression that nations and people inflict on one another are simply not mentioned. I wonder how much of of the "one world" sentiment is heartfelt and how much is just a facade. I get the impression that most people wish that this concept could be true, but that they feel it's too idealistic, and is best embraced as an ideal, not as something that could become reality.
Christians more than anyone else should be able to say honestly that everyone is welcome, and that we're one world. After all, we're part of a family that spans many geographical and political borders. We're part of a different Kingdom, and we have a different King. Geopolitical borders should seem superficial and largely unimportant to us. "I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb" (Rev. 7:9). We are right to respect and celebrate the differences between cultures, but let us not put up any walls between ourselves where God has not made them. There is only one kingdom, with only one Lord, and he is Jesus Christ!
Jesus says in Matthew 18:3 that unless we change and become like little children, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Maybe playing games does have great importance--after all, little children often welcome any playmate as long as the game is fun. Let us use any tool available to us to encourage unity, restore relationships, and bring reconciliation. Let us be reconciled to each other and to God. And let us continue our work on earth as ministers of reconciliation.
6/12/08
All I Have Seen
(This is a poem I wrote one day, kind of a "stream of consciousness" style. I'd be curious to know how you interpret what it means.)
All I have seen makes me fall down
I crash in the dust
Afraid yet hopeful
I see beauty and broken things
Seething and suffering
Wastefulness and wanting
Pain smothered with pleasure seeking
I see the same face cry
Over the rich ones and the poor ones
As calloused fingers grasp at grains of rice
And smooth hands cradle lattes
I see messy birth and silent death
Crushing weight on wiry young backs
Silk pajamas hiding stretch marks
Breath and breathlessness reaching all
I see untouched wilderness
Fresh still and unstained by humanity
Slashed and burned rainforests far away
Miles of pavement out my door
I see red blood crying out from the ground
Children holding rifles
Old men yelling orders
Young men torn between two evils
I see plastic and fiberglass
Ashes and scrap metal
Shiny televisions with airbrushed faces
Smoky piles of garbage
I see slick black oil pulled upwards
Machines making machines
Mamas balancing babies on their hips
Daddies bouncing kids on their knees
I see lostness and love
Wanderers and pilgrims
Storytelling and singing
Redemption comes through
I can rest now
I hear his voice
All I have seen makes me fall down in worship
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
