A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day SIX

February 28, 2012 By
1 
Psalm 47, Today’s New International Version:
Clap your hands, all you nations;
   shout to God with cries of joy.

 For the LORD Most High is awesome,
   the great King over all the earth. 

He subdued nations under us,
   peoples under our feet. 
He chose our inheritance for us,
   the pride of Jacob, whom he loved.

 God has ascended amid shouts of joy,
   the LORD amid the sounding of trumpets. 

Sing praises to God, sing praises;
   sing praises to our King, sing praises. 
For God is the King of all the earth;
   sing to him a psalm of praise.

 God reigns over the nations;
   God is seated on his holy throne. 

The nobles of the nations assemble
   as the people of the God of Abraham,
for the kings of the earth belong to God;
   he is greatly exalted.
_______
Sometimes, you’ve just gotta sing praise.
That’s all there is to it. 

You remember who God is.

And who you are not. 

“God has ascended amid shouts of joy!” 

ALL RIGHT!  Amen. Hallelujah. 

Except. 

During Lent, the hallelujahs are supposed to be 
     suppressed, 
     removed from the liturgy, 
     laid to rest until Easter Sunday, 
when they will surge forth from the people of God. 

So today, I’ll do the praising a little more quietly,

more quietly even than I might feel. 

Because I think it’s good to keep a season of quiet,

to contain the exuberance,
to reflect on the seriousness of this journey we’re on. 

I will admit that 40 days is a very.long.time.

And by the time we get to the end,
I’m gonna want to let ‘er rip  – 
I mean,
every word of joyful abandon I can find. 

40 days feels like a long, hard climb. 

But then I think about that for just a minute.

And really, is it so much to ask? 

After all, ‘from the foundations of the world,’

scripture tell us – 
that’s how long Jesus has been climbing that hill to 
     our salvation, 
     our restoration, 
     our wholeness. 

On second thought, I think I can hike with him for 40 days.

Yes. I think I can.
_______
Lord Jesus Christ, thank you for taking the dive and making the climb. For sinking and rising, for coming and changing everything. Thank you for the journey you made for me; now strengthen me to journey for you and with you during this Lenten season.
_______


Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day FIVE

February 27, 2012 By
Mark 1:1-13, The Message:*
The good news of Jesus Christ—the Message!—begins here, following to the letter the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.
   Watch closely: I’m sending my preacher ahead of you;
   He’ll make the road smooth for you.
   Thunder in the desert!
   Prepare for God’s arrival!
   Make the road smooth and straight!
John the Baptizer appeared in the wild, preaching a baptism of life-change that leads to forgiveness of sins. People thronged to him from Judea and Jerusalem and, as they confessed their sins, were baptized by him in the Jordan River into a changed life. John wore a camel-hair habit, tied at the waist with a leather belt. He ate locusts and wild field honey.
 
As he preached he said, “The real action comes next: The star in this drama, to whom I’m a mere stagehand, will change your life. I’m baptizing you here in the river, turning your old life in for a kingdom life. His baptism—a holy baptism by the Holy Spirit—will change you from the inside out.”
 
At this time, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. The moment he came out of the water, he saw the sky split open and God’s Spirit, looking like a dove, come down on him. Along with the Spirit, a voice: “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.”
 

At once, this same Spirit pushed Jesus out into the wild. For forty wilderness days and nights he was tested by Satan. Wild animals were his companions, and angels took care of him.

_______

As I’m reading this very familiar passage this morning, I find myself wondering about something.

I’m wondering if the Protestant evangelical movement, so forceful and strong in the last several decades, isn’t maybe listening a bit more to John the Baptist than it is to Jesus?

I know, I know – that sounds dangerous and provocative, maybe even political. I don’t mean it to be any of those things. 

I am just wondering.

John the B preaches repentance and lifestyle change – and people lap it up. They see something in him that they like, they hear things that challenge them and they grab hold.

But what strikes me in this passage is that John didn’t take himself nearly as seriously as everyone else seems to have done. In fact, he clearly points to Jesus and he differentiates between his message and ministry and what will come when Jesus shows up. 

Because Jesus will speak with a different kind of authority, a different kind of power. And it won’t be about lifestyle change alone. It will be about total makeover, from the inside out.

So, I’m wondering.

With the intrusion of what was the precursor of the evangelical movement today – the fundamentalist movement of the early 20th century (and that movement is an important part of my heritage and I am grateful for many pieces of it) – 
but with that movement came a strong emphasis on         
     right behavior,
     right belief,
     strict adherence to a moral code 
without nearly as much emphasis on the radical nature of the Jesus message and the power of the Spirit to wreak havoc with who we are, not just what we do…

As I keep saying: I’m wondering. And I’ll likely keep on wondering. Seems to be what I do a lot of.

And I’m also struck – again! – with those very opening words – Jesus the Messiah, the bringer of the Message, the Good News – is the very specific fulfillment of the prophetic ministry of Isaiah. 

I think maybe it’s time to read that dude again.

_______

Sometimes, Holy Spirit, I’m not sure I like the way you mess with my mind. So, please keep me open and humble and honest as you muck about in there. Because when it’s all said and done, I really do want to be like Jesus. Even if it means I’ve got to live with the muck more often than I might choose.
_______
*Right here is an example of how the daily lectionary sometimes overlaps with the Sunday one. We did part of this passage yesterday – so I chose a different translation to work with today. And sure enough, the Spirit took me in a completely different direction. The Spirit is weird that way.

 And if you haven’t a clue what I mean when I reference the lectionary, click here to go back to Day One and the explanation provided there.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – FIRST Sunday

February 26, 2012 By
Mark 1:9-15, Today’s New International Version:
One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and John baptized him in the Jordan River. As Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens splitting apart and the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice from heaven said, “You are my dearly loved Son, and you bring me great joy.” 

The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go into the wilderness, where he was tempted by Satan for forty days. He was out among the wild animals, and angels took care of him. 

Later on, after John was arrested, Jesus went into Galilee, where he preached God’s Good News. “The time promised by God has come at last!” he announced. “The Kingdom of God is near! Repent of your sins and believe the Good News!”

_______
“You bring me great joy.”
I cannot imagine hearing anything more delightful,
     more affirming,
     more satisfying. 

We all yearn for that, I think:

to be a source of joy in someone’s life. 

And this goes way beyond what most of us think of when we hear the word ‘romantic.’ 

I happen to be a big believer in romance, true romance – 
     not melodrama, 
     not soap opera, 
     not fuzzy hearts and x’s and o’s scribbled on the bottom of a gooey card. 

Romance that lays a sure foundation,

romance that resonates with commitment,
romance that walks with us through all of it –
     the high-endorphin times and the bottom-of-the-pit times,
     the fireworks and the clean-up afterwards,
     the shared laughter and the separate tears. 

“You bring me great joy.” 

Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

That’s what I want.

But then…
there’s this little phrase:
     “The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go out into the wilderness…”

Um. This is sounding less and less romantic.
Wilderness. 40 days. Temptation. Wild animals. SATAN. 

There is the saving grace of ministering angels.

But gee whiz, this is decidedly UNromantic, don’t you think?
And yet…
I wonder:

A beautiful and encouraging word at the river.

A time of testing and struggle in the isolation of the desert.
A brand new ministry of fulfillment, repentance and GOOD NEWS. 

There must be a connecting thread here.

Somewhere. 

And I’m thinking, it just might be romance, after all. 

     A sure foundation.
     Commitment.
     Walking through the good stuff and the hard stuff, sometimes alone – but never abandoned.
Maybe, just maybe.

This could be how good, true romance is really built,
built to last.
For eternity and beyond.
_______

Saint Theresa thought you were the most romantic thing going, Lord. And maybe she was onto something. She, and a lot of the mystics who came after her, encourage us to take a good long look at You. A long, loving look at the Real. And when we do that, maybe we’ll see You, looking back at us, whispering, ‘You bring me great joy!’ Wow.
_______

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about. 



Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day FOUR

February 25, 2012 By
Psalm 30, The Grail Translation:
“Thanksgiving for recovery from sickness”
I will praise you, LORD, you have rescued me 
and have not let my enemies rejoice over me.
O LORD, I cried to you for help 
and you, my God, have healed me.
O LORD, you have raised my soul from the dead,
restored me to life from those who sink into
         the grave.
 
Sing psalms to the LORD, you faithful ones, 
give thanks to his holy name. 
God’s anger lasts a moment; God’s favor all
       through life.
At night there are tears, but joy comes with dawn.
 
I said to myself in my good fortune: 
“Nothing will ever disturb me.” 
Your favor had set me on a mountain fastness,
then you hid your face and I was put to confusion.
 
To you, LORD, I cried, 
to my God I made appeal:
“What profit would my death be, my going to
     the grave?
Can dust give you praise or proclaim your truth?”

The LORD listened and had pity.
The LORD came to my help. 
For me you have changed my mourning 
     into dancing, 
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.
So my soul sings psalms to you unceasingly. 
O LORD my God, I will thank you forever.
_______
There is something so real about this language,
so true to who we are as people who struggle.
We don’t have the answers we think we want.
We wrestle with the hard stuff.
We get sick, we are fearful of dying,
     we would like to blame someone for that – 
whether it’s ‘enemies,’ or God.
The psalmists all tell it like it is and I find that both
refreshing and encouraging. And sometimes, I find it puzzling.

Because this is what it feels like when life gets messy and tough.
It feels like God turns away from us;
or it feels like God rescues us.

Both of these experiences are part of what it means to live this life we’re called to, aren’t they?

And I want to rush right in here and say,
“But…
God doesn’t turn away from us. 
The Word tells us God will never leave us.”

Yet if I say that – and I do – then maybe I also have to say this other, 
much harder thing:

“God doesn’t rescue us, either. 
Except in the ultimate sense. 
We are rescued from ourselves and our sin and our brokenness because of Jesus. 
We are rescued from a life of meaninglessness and free-floating purposelessness.”
But are we rescued from the frailties and foibles of this life?       
The one we are all living here in the mess? 
Clearly, we are not.

Good people do suffer.
Faithful followers do encounter pain, grief, loss, 
sometimes even what feels like unrelenting agony.
Children die.
Wars rage.
Natural disasters wreak havoc around the globe.

And yet… 
and yet…
There is healing.
There is redemption.
There is joy in the morning.
And there are tears in the night.

The wisdom writers in the Old Testament all tumble these ideas around. And what I love about our scripture is that these authors provide a variety of answers. Perhaps that’s why we push/pull about it to this day. Some believe God is responsible for all of our suffering. Some believe God allows it. Some believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

I don’t know.

This I do know, however.
God is so much bigger than we can even begin to imagine. And if God is truth, then I guess that means that the Truth is so much bigger than we can imagine, too. (If you want a small sample of this kind of thinking, check out The Pilgrim’s words at this site.) 
So I think I’ll join with the psalmist and sing about it all – 
the glories of health 
and the darkness of illness and death. 
Because it’s all part of the tapestry being woven 
in this thing 
we call life.
_______
God of the Cosmos, You know how feeble this brain of mine is. How I cannot begin to wrap my thoughts around Who You are, and How You are. This much I know: Someone is in this muck with me and I believe his name is Jesus. Together, we can walk through anything. And for that, I say, ‘thank you.’ And for that, I say, ‘help me, teach me, put my feet in the right place.’ And for that, I say, ‘Amen.’
_______

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about.  





Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

5 Minute Friday – GRIT: An Essay with Photos

February 24, 2012 By

Wowza. It’s Friday again. Whoosh – that week just flew by. But every Friday, we try to write like we believe we can fly (Lisa-Jo’s fine words). So I’ll give it a whirl, one more time. Take a prompt. Set a timer. GO. Write. STOP. And see what comes out. Try it, you’ll like it. And check out a few others who’ve got it going on over at The Gypsy Mama’s place.            

This week’s prompt? GRIT
GO:

I got some grit between my toes today. Yes, I surely did.

It was bright and beautiful here.

And I had a ton of errands to run. But not so many that I couldn’t take a break at lunchtime and run down to the beach.

I went to the slough – an engineered salt water river and estuary that draws the water birds, by the hundreds.

And I walked right down onto the sand with my camera in hand, and I started pointing and shooting.

And smiling inside.

In a big, big way.

Because when I’m tired.
Or when I’m worried.
Or when I’m feeling insecure, or out of place, or not at all sure that I’m doing what I ‘should’ be doing…

what I need is a little bit of that gritty stuff between my toes.
And some time with the birds.

I don’t know a whole lot about them, but I surely do love to watch them do their bird thing.

They know exactly what to do. And they know when to do it.
They don’t battle insecurity.
They don’t wonder if they’re living up to their potential.
They don’t try to be anything other than what they are.

They do what their Creator designed them to do.
Every moment. Of every day.

And they do it with beauty, grace, humor and a fair amount of noise.

And I LOVE IT.

Lord, help me to be exactly who you’ve made me to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And help me to do it with grit between my toes.

STOP

Writing time, exactly five minutes, including fixing two spelling errors.
Adding pictures? Well, a few more than five. :>)

 Where the slough comes from the ocean.
 The ‘big picture’ of the major sand bar, the eucalyptus grove, the Goleta hills behind.
 A gathering of gulls, all facing into the warm sunlight.
 Cormorants cooling it on some old pilings, watched over by a great blue heron.
 A trio of pelicans, resting on a sand bar.
 A great blue begins to circle around, seeking out his particular nest among the dozens of 100# twig collections in the tops of those trees.
 The circle gets a little bigger…
 …makes another loop…
 …and then settles right in at home.
 See that greater egret over there by the cliff? He’s my favorite.
 Except maybe for this guy – a male red-breasted merganser.
But that tall one, back there in the shadows. He’s fascinating, don’t you think?
 Now he steps forward, surrounded by black-winged stilt birds, with their knees all backwards. (Does the egret’s pose remind anyone of Steve Martin doing the Egyptian? Or are none of you old enough to remember that old act of his?)
 Sort of a stately guy.
 And I’m eternally grateful to him for flying, just for a moment.
 And for staring at himself in the mirror…oh wait, I think he’s looking for lunch!
 Yup, he’s goin’ for it!
 And I watched a couple of stilts do a little doe-si-doe…
 Shall we dance?
 Nah – way too risky!
Got one shot with a full reflection – what a gorgeous creature.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, personal journey, Photo Essay, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day THREE

February 24, 2012 By

Philippians 4:1-9 (The Message):

My dear, dear friends! I love you so much. I do want the very best for you. You make me feel such joy, fill me with such pride. Don’t waver. Stay on track, steady in God.
 
I urge Euodia and Syntyche to iron out their differences and make up. God doesn’t want his children holding grudges. And, oh, yes, Syzygus, since you’re right there to help them work things out, do your best with them. These women worked for the Message hand in hand with Clement and me, and with the other veterans—worked as hard as any of us. Remember, their names are also in the Book of Life.
 
Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you’re on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up any minute!
 
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.
 
Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.
_______

Umm….I’m sensing a theme developing here…
Whacking away at the worrying again.

But I like what Peterson has done here in The Message –
he’s summed the whole thing up with one line:

“It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry 
at the center of your life.”

Such a practical fellow, Paul was. 
Worried?
Try praying instead.
Discouraged?
Think about good things.
Struggling with this faith stuff?
Do what I do. 

But you know what I think?
I think Paul was a little bit worried himself – yes, I do.
Those two women,
the leaders in the church,
the ones working right alongside him to build this church in Philippi,
they’ve had a falling out.
And it troubles him.
It troubles him a great deal.
He URGES them to make things up.
He recruits the guy with all the consonants in his name 
to work on the problem, too. 

Why? 

Because they’re good people,
‘their names are written in the Book of Life, too.’
And because he cares about them, he worries the situation a bit. 

I take heart from this small piece of personal meddling.
I truly do.
And I’m going to take Paul at his word and do what he does.
I’m going to carefully meddle once in a while, too.
       If I care about the people involved,
       if I want those harmonies to resonate,
       if I think the worrisome matter needs hands-on action as well as prayer action. 

And I’m not going to worry about it when I do.
_______
Holy Friend, here’s where I really need your Spirit’s discernment and grace: would you grant me the wisdom to know when intervention is holy and good and when it’s just plain nosy? How I want to celebrate You every day, all day. Teach me to revel. Maybe if I learn how to do that, the nosiness/holy intervention quandary will disappear. I think I’d like to find out. Amen.
_______
Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about. 

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to Calvary – Day TWO

February 23, 2012 By
Psalm 37, opening verses – 1-7, the New Living Translation:

Don’t worry about the wicked
      or envy those who do wrong.
For like grass, they soon fade away.
      Like spring flowers, they soon wither.
Trust in the LORD and do good.
      Then you will live safely in the land and prosper.
Take delight in the LORD,
      and he will give you your heart’s desires.
Commit everything you do to the LORD.
      Trust him, and he will help you.
He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn,
      and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.
Be still in the presence of the LORD,
      and wait patiently for him to act.
Don’t worry about evil people who prosper
      or fret about their wicked schemes.

 _______

Don’t worry?

Yes, the psalmist says it two times, 
at the beginning and end of this chunk.

Don’t worry.

Specifically,
Don’t worry about the wicked,
    those who do wrong,
    those who prosper, though they are evil,
    those who harbor wicked schemes.

Man, that’s hard for me.
Is it for you?
I want those bad guys to get what they deserve!
And, to tell the whole truth here, I do worry about it sometimes.
So this Lenten weekday reminder is important:

Leave it to the LORD.

Trust.
Do good myself.
And most of all,
Take delight in the LORD.

And the best way to do that is also spelled out in these verses –
be still in God’s presence,
learn to wait,
to still that beating heart,
     that fevered mind,
     that mental to-do list,
     that building resentment,
     those rabbit-trail distractions that get so dang noisy.

And, oh yeah – in case you missed it – don’t fret.

______________

But I SO want to worry about it, Lord. It feels weird and sort of magical, but somehow I think if I worry about stuff, it will get better. Ha! Oh, help me to keep my sticky little mental fingers off the worry button and help me to keep my palms facing upward, ready and waiting for you. Amen.
________

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about. 

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to Calvary – Day ONE: Ash Wednesday

February 22, 2012 By

Lent is a journeying experience. It consists of 40 days and 6 Sundays. Many Christians will choose to fast from something during these days of wandering and wondering. And they will fast for each of those 40 days. But not the Sundays. I just discovered that about five years ago, and somehow, that has helped enormously!

Some of us will choose to add something for Lent, too. A discipline of some sort. And this year, I’ve chosen to do it this way: each day of Lent, I will post a brief reflection, centered around one of the Lectionary texts for that day. The Sunday Lectionary is a gift to the gathered church, a rotating, 3-year calendar of readings from the Psalter, the Old Testament, the Epistles and the Gospels for each Sunday from Advent through the end of Ordinary Time the following fall. We are currently in Year B. 

The daily texts come from a 2 year rotation of personal devotional readings. These include psalms for morning and evening plus an Old Testament, Epistle and Gospel lesson for each day of the week. So during the week – from Monday through Saturday – I will follow the 2 year rotation, selecting one of the daily texts to ponder. But on Sundays, I will choose one of the 3-year rotating Lectionary texts for each of the six Sundays in Lent. I will most often choose to offer my own musings as I read through the selected passage for each day, but I have been known to dip into the rich well of resources available to the church from across the last two centuries with some frequency, so you never know what you might find in this small space. 

You are invited to join me as I try on this discipline in Lent 2012. The format will be the same each day: a photo for reflection; the text for the day; some musings on that text; a brief word with God. I invite you to ponder each day’s text for yourself and see where God speaks to your own heart as you read.

The words of Jesus in Luke 18:9-14 – The New Living Translation

Then Jesus told this story to some who had great confidence in their own righteousness and scorned everyone else: “Two men went to the Temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, and the other was a despised tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed this prayer: ‘I thank you, God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else. For I don’t cheat, I don’t sin, and I don’t commit adultery. I’m certainly not like that tax collector! I fast twice a week, and I give you a tenth of my income.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, ‘O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.’ I tell you, this sinner, not the Pharisee, returned home justified before God. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

_______

“Ashes, ashes, we all fall down…”

Yes, we do.
We all fall down.
Down, down, down.
     Down into addiction,
     down into depression,
     down into discouragement,
     down into failure.
We all fall down.

But sometimes I read a gospel story like this one and I wonder: 
is that such a bad thing?
This fact, this hard, hard truth, 
that we all fall down?

I wonder if maybe we need to fall down if we ever hope to rise up?

Maybe we need those ashes, 
those ashes that remind us how far we’ve fallen,
maybe we need them to picture for us:
     our need for a Savior,
     our need for a Friend,
     our need for forgiveness,
     our need for a future filled with hope.
__________

As I begin this Lenten journey, O Lord, I want to say thank you for the ashes. For the dark smudge on my forehead, put there by my pastor. The one that comes from the burned remains of last year’s branches from the Palm Sunday celebration. Thank you that with that mark, I remember my own mortality, I declare my need for a Savior – and I rejoice that I am marked as a child of the King. Glory be.

Filed Under: 2012; Wonderings in the Word, biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

Five Minute Friday: Real

February 3, 2012 By
Can you believe it’s Friday again? Already? Me, neither. But that’s what the calendar is telling me….almost. Still 30 minutes to go here on the west side of the land, but I’m ready to try this five minute things anyhow!
Joining with Lisa-Jo once again over at The Gypsy Mama for her weekly invitation to ‘just write.’
“I don’t think that it is always necessary to talk about the deepest and most private dimension of who we are, but I think we are called to talk to each other out of it, and just as importantly to listen to each other out of it, to live out of our depths as well as our shallows. We are all of us adolescents, painfully growing and groping our way toward something like true adulthood, and maybe the greatest value we have both to teach and to learn as we go is the capacity to be amazed…which is a power to heal us and bless us and in the end maybe even to transform us into truly human beings at last.”

Source: The Clown in the Belfry, by Frederick Buechner

This week’s prompt: REAL
GO:
This quote really jumped up and bit me tonight as I was scurrying through the long list of unread emails in my inbox. This was the devotional thought from The Church of the Savior in Washington D.C. for today and it invites serious thinking about some of the very things I’ve been pondering these last few days.


So to find this quote – and to see Lisa-Jo’s prompt – made me wonder: What am I supposed to be seeing/learning from all this synchronicity?

Here are a few (very few) initial responses to that inner query:

That authenticity and vulnerability are beautiful things, that they need to be honored and held lightly, that they need to be protected and valued. 

That we don’t need to spill every intimate detail of our lives into each and every conversation we ever have, but we do need to be sensitive to the movement of the Spirit within for those times when appropriate and helpful sharing could facilitate healing and health in ourselves or others.

That there is always, always something going on around or within us that could, if we stopped long enough to notice it, cause us to drop that jaw in amazement, gratitude and joy.

That giving the gift of ‘real’ is a matter of both discretion and trust – ultimately, trust in God’s grace to bring healing, and trust in the other person to hold confidence and to offer listening that goes deep.

STOP

This just may be the strangest response to a Lisa-Jo prompt I’ve ever written! (About one extra minute – and links were added after the time limit.)
 
Filed Under: Wonderings in the Word, Wonderings in the World

Real Life Community

February 2, 2012 By

Joining with Bonnie over at The Faith Barista today and with Emily for her last Imperfect Prose for a while as she and her family move into a challenging new phase of life with two new boys to love.





Life is strange sometimes.
 
Take this, for example:
 
I was the pastoral staff person responsible for the 
care and maintenance of small groups 
in our congregation for 14 years.
Yet, my husband and I found it very hard
to be in a small group ourselves.
We tried twice in the early years.
One a Bible study,
the other a sermon study.
 
(You see, I developed and suggested all kinds of different formats for groups to try – ours is a congregation of eclectics, different-strokes-for-different-folks kind of mentality – and I always kept a couple of shelves available with study guides/suggestions for anyone wishing to form or join a group.)
But every time we joined one,
it began to fall apart fairly early on.
 
It was a mystery to me, that whole small groups thing.
 
Some groups worked so very well that the people in them stayed together for years, sometimes decades.
Problem there was –
they weren’t open to anyone new.
Other groups would start off with a bang,
then disappear with a whimper, 
despite training for leaders and
regular check-ins to see how things were going. 
 
So it was with a feeling of dread mixed with anxiety that I began my last round of small group organization during that final year of employment at the church.
 
With a gifted and committed lay leader, 
I had planned a marriage retreat in the spring. 
Twenty-six couples came away for a weekend of worship, learning, practice, prayer.
It was very, very good.
 
And from that group, I attempted to form several follow-up groups, choosing to let the groups themselves decide what kind of schedule and format they would follow.
And, very hesitantly,
I offered our own home and hospitality,
without much hope, frankly,
that anything would work.
 
But God.
 
Just that. 
 
But God had other ideas.
About four successful groups came together and 
stayed together from that project.
And one of those 
was the one that meets once a month at our home.
 
We meet on Sundays, after church, at 1:30 in the afternoon.
We meet for two hours – some couples have kids and two hours is long enough to entrust them to a sitter.
We gather in the yard – in sunny weather – 
or in our dining room, when it’s cooler.
Someone brings dessert, we provide beverages.
We keep it very, very simple.
 
We catch up with each other for the first 30 minutes or so. Sometimes that catching up spurs some deep sharing, sometimes it’s just a check-in time.
And some weeks, one couple is given
the opportunity to use the  Group Bucket – 
a small colorful container containing
slips of paper with thought-provoking questions on them.  Questions designed to elicit some deeper story-telling.
The couple of the week has the option to refuse the question they draw or to edit the question in any way they like.
And then, we go round the circle. 
 
It.is.amazing.
We have shared about all kinds of things,
most of them have brought us to our knees,
in prayers of thanksgiving or supplication.
And that’s the other thing we do each time we gather:
we pray for one another.
This is not a study.
This is a time to share,
sometimes to confess,
often to laugh, to cry, to be honest about where we’re struggling, 
to ask for prayer for ourselves or our kids or our parents,
depending on where we are in the life cycle.

And that’s the other thing that has been really rich about this group. 
We are very intentionally inter-generational. 
When we began, we had one couple newly married, 
two couples of 40+ years, 
one of 20 and another of 12.
Some have moved away and we’ve been open to newcomers.
And each time, the Lord has brought exactly the right people, the right ‘demographic,’ even!

As I look back over our time in this place,
I can see and understand God’s timing
a bit better.
During those earliest years,
it was tough to do community authentically
with people we were just getting to know.
We had come from 20+ year in the same congregation,
where our ties ran deep, deep.

And it was tough to find the lines between my job
and my desire to know and be known
at a deep level.
 
And the demands of both job and family during most of my employed life 
left little space or energy
to build the kind of couple connections we
were used to having.
We each found avenues for service and for worship,
but community?
Not so much.

Somehow, at the end of my pastoral life,
the door opened for this kind of connection.
We were ready for it,
God provided it,
and we are grateful.

But I gotta say – it was a long time coming.
And it’s a very fragile thing, this community building.
It needs tending and commitment
and it needs the baptizing presence of the Spirit of God.
Because all of us are a mess, you know?
We’re flawed,
we’re over-scheduled,
we’re over-committed,
we’re afraid to let the scars show
for fear we’ll be judged or rejected
or, God forbid, ‘fixed’ in some way.
It is a great gift to feel safe with a small group of fellow strugglers on the way, 
one that I do not take for granted after several years without it.
I thank God that we have found such a place of safety.
 
How about you?
Are you connected to people who love you, warts and all?
People who will pray for you and with you when things get dicey?
People who will let Jesus shine through them,
right into your heart?

 

Filed Under: Wonderings in the Word, Wonderings in the World
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