Wednesday I asked a pastor a theological question worded something like this: “There’s two views on this topic. Which one do you take?”
I’ve experienced two reactions to this question: “How much time do you have” or “Really? That’s what we’re doing right now?” His rolled eyes didn’t match his answer.
I see a tension between both of those. So I see both of them in Scripture, and sometimes I just have to say you can’t answer that tension… I think we need to just to leave that tension there than trying to answer it, because Scripture doesn’t answer the tension.
“That tension can’t be answered. Just leave it there.”
His response was worded unlike any other. Even if pastors acknowledge the tension and would like to avoid it, no one has expressed their view like this. Bottom line: it’s okay to not have the answer. It’s actually better for peace and rest to not force one for any reason.
Continuing to chew on his answer I find it refreshing, particularly when applied to other tensions society revels over debating and dividing over. Millions of dollars and minutes are wasted over tensions that just need to be left alone.
The pastor’s reply modeled this beatitude: “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God.” In his paraphrase The Message, Eugene Peterson wrote “that’s when you discover who you really are and your place in God’s family.”
I’ve had fences on my mind. Apparently, they have permanent residence and need to be managed.
This is my way of understanding a season I’ve recently emerged from, a season I always seem to have a foot in. I call it the what’s next season. That question keeps a firm grip on my brain, if I let it. And that’s where the fences come in.
Sometimes I recognize it; sometimes I don’t. The temptation to look over the fence. The temptation isn’t necessarily about looking for greener grass. It’s more like, “What’s over there? If it looks good, should I find a way over there? Should I be looking for a gate? Looking at the field I’m in, there’s probably a better one on the other side of part of this fence, right? I just got to keep looking. Seek and find.”
While chewing on these questions this week during a prayer moment, a connection was made that made me say, “Well that’s interesting.” The connection was to a verse from Ecclesiastes, a book containing a look at forever fences. Here’s that verse:
He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also set eternity in their heart, without the possibility that mankind will find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end. -Ecclesiastes 3:11 NASB
Oddly, my mind relaxed. The connection: Because eternity is placed in my heart, I am always going to be tempted to look over the fence. And I’m not alone in that. Every human asks, “What’s next? Is this it? There’s got to be more, right?” We ask it in different ways, seek the answers from different sources, but we ask the same questions.
The lessons that seem to be on repeat during a what’s next season are 1) Embrace Now and 2) Balance Anticipation. As I thought about these lessons, another uplifting passage came to mind. It’s from an equally encouraging chapter, this time from the New Testament. Hebrews 11 contains a roster of fellow fence gawkers who are described as sharing another top of mind focus. Check out verses 13-16:
13 All these people were still living by faith when they died. They didn’t receive the things God had promised. They only saw them and welcomed them from a long way off. They openly said that they were outsiders and strangers on earth. 14 People who say things like that show that they are looking for a country of their own. 15 What if they had been thinking of the country they had left? Then they could have returned to it. 16 Instead, they longed for a better country. They wanted a heavenly one. So God is pleased when they call him their God. In fact, he has prepared a city for them.
You see why fences have been on mind? It’s actually good stuff. At the end of it, I find myself in excellent company, both in the past and the present. I say the present because these thoughts led me to three songs that I gravitate toward when eternity is on my mind.
So at the close of this month, this week, this Thanksgiving weekend, I encourage you to take 11 minutes, stare at the eternal fence, and listen to these fellow “longers for a better country.”
Chances are, if you grew up in church, you can count on one hand the number of sermons you’ve heard that mentioned fasting. Church folk like their food, right?
Chances are most likely even higher that any mention of fasting didn’t reference Isaiah 58. That’s what crossed my mind this morning when I read it as part of a Thanksgiving-themed devotional plan. Check out verses 6-12.
Isaiah 58:6-12 NIV [6] “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? [7] Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? [8] Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. [9] Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. “If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, [10] and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. [11] The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. [12] Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
If you’ve been involved in anything mentioned in this passage, SURPRISE! You’ve been fasting.
Loosing the chains of injustice = FASTING
Feeding the hungry = FASTING
Sheltering the poor = FASTING
Clothing the naked = FASTING
Not turning from your family = FASTING
Doing away with finger pointing and malicious talk = FASTING
As we’ve watched many of these actions in our community these last few months, we didn’t use the word fasting to describe them. Two words I did hear were light and healing. If you take this passage to be a promise, imagine what’s coming because of the fasting. Not only will this fasting result in literal repairs of walls and restoration of streets and homes, but it will also shine light and nurture healing as God replies to our cries by saying, “Here I Am.”
For a while now, part of my weekends is listening to the latest episode of 20 The Countdown Magazine.
The song at #7 this week has been on the countdown for 27 weeks. That says something.
The lyric that said something to me this morning was “I’m bruised but I’m not destroyed.” Based on 2 Corinthians 4:9, it seems like a relatable image to how many people in our community feel today.
I suppose it depends on their definitions of bruised and destroyed.
By the dictionary, bruised means damaged or wounded by or as if by being struck; destroyed means put an end to the existence of (something), defeat (someone) utterly, ruin (someone) emotionally or spiritually.
It’s hard for me to imagine most don’t feel bruised. It’s easy to imagine that many do feel destroyed.
I can’t say I align completely with the mindset behind this song. But I do hope for everyone, whether feeling bruised or destroyed, they will find peace that where they find themselves today is not the end. Fear and shame do not have to reign. Keep calling out from your woundedness. Healing and restoration await.
About this time last Saturday, I was sitting in the stands of Washington-Grizzly Stadium on the campus of the University of Montana in Missoula waiting for the Zootown Challenge 5k to start. Not too sure how the race would go due to fighting off altitude sickness the last 18 hours, I was anxious to get moving.
When they separated the competitors based on expected pace, I ended up standing by this guy, one of several competitors wearing the same shirt.
I asked, “Tell me about the shirt so many of you are wearing. Are you part of a team?”
“No,” he smiled. “We’re just all here to remember my brother, the guy on our shirts. He died last year. He ran this race the first two years it was put on, so we’re all here to honor him.”
“That’s really amazing. There are a lot of you. How many are there?”
“54. And he’s laughing right now. This is something I never do.”
We chuckled at that thought and ended the short chat with encouragement. Basically, no matter what, we’re going to get this done. The line started moving, and we eventually separated. I passed him once on the course with a nod to keep moving.
Nothing was said about how his brother died. A year later, that wasn’t important to share in a random conversation with a stranger. What was most clear was the brother left behind loved his lost brother and was doing things now because of what he saw and remembers. I’m guessing being in that stadium and running the course was a way for him to say, “I haven’t forgotten you. Odd to say, but I love you probably now more than ever.”
This was fresh in my mind as I had just read these words from Henri Nouwen’s book Life of the Beloved:
I am called to trust that life is a preparation for death as a final act of giving…If love is, indeed, stronger than death, then death has the potential to deepen and strengthen the bonds of love. It was only after Jesus had left his disciples that they were able to grasp what he truly meant to them. But isn’t that true for all who die in love? (Chapter 8, “Given”)
I’m guessing if the majority of us were asked if we had anything to lament over we’d have more than one answer.
A relationship
Religion
Politics
Finances
Physical aches
I’m guessing if the majority of us were asked if we had a proper approach to lamenting we’d struggle to lay it out. Thankfully, Krispin Mayfield has offered some help.
In his book Attached to God, he gives six steps to writing a lament. Why? When we express our most difficult emotions to God, we draw closer to him. Intimacy with God is found in a balance of praise and lament.
In the tradition of the Psalms, here are Mayfield’s six steps:
Tell God something you wish were different in your own life or the world, such as a health condition, difficult relationship, life stress, poverty, or racism.
Tell God what you feel when you think about this issue; additionally, write down any emotions you might feel considering God’s inaction regarding this issue.
Tell about a time in your own life or someone else’s where God intervened.
Ask God to step in and address this suffering.
Tell God you’re confident that your prayer is heard.
Praise or recognize one of God’s attributes or characteristics, based on your past or present experience.
Sharing some of your uncomfortable emotions with God might feel strange. But you can unlock the basement when you’re assured that both God and your faith tradition can hold the parts of your experience. When you are sad, scared, or angry, your emotions aren’t signs of a lack of faith, but rather evidence that you are exactly where you need to be-at home with a God who is waiting to hear your emotions and give you the reassurance you need. (chapter 8, “From Shutdown to Engaged”)
Janet Holm McHenry has breathed life into my prayer life through her book.
I first referenced it in a post last month and took another month to finish it. Like eating red velvet waffles (Yes, that’s a thing. Had them for the first time this week. May I have another, please?), who wants to rush the goodness.
The first three words of the book’s title is true and is achieved, yet I find it to be so much more. If it breathes life into a spiritual discipline, then it’s easily described as life giving, potentially life changing.
The first indicator came from this simple suggestion in the introduction:
I pray for whatever God puts in my eyesight.
Needs some context probably. Janet was describing her shift from having a structured approach to prayer while she walked her neighborhood to praying based on what she believed God was putting in sight in that moment. That computes with “pray without ceasing” in my dictionary. Adoption #1.
I appreciate each chapter’s dedication to one prayer by Jesus. The three that had the most impression to my spirit were chapters nine, twelve, and thirteen.
A love that breeds unity is a subtle form of evangelism…Unity overlooks the faults of others who may not yet be living up to their potential, because unity knows those folks are growing in the right direction. (Chapter 9, “Jesus’ Prayer for the Church”)
Our “why” prayers are not a lack of faith; they are simply a lack of information. (Chapter 12, “Jesus’ Prayer in Abandonment”)
A prayer of submission actually is an act of strength. (Chapter 13, “Jesus’ Prayer of Submission.” She wrote this in reply to quoting Richard Foster: “It is the prayer of relinquishment that moves us from the struggling to the releasing.”)
Adoption #2, having a deeper understanding and awareness of praying for unity
Adoption #3, honoring the heart of anyone’s “why” prayer
Adoption #4, appreciating the movement and strength in submission
Her book is more than a guide. Take a read and see if you agree.
For the last three weeks I’ve been focused on a question, a personal spiritual dialogue that I’ve shared with a few others. The question could be stated several ways, but what I’m after is an answer that enriches/refreshes relationship with God. Here are variations of the question:
Which is more important, focusing on what God does for us or who He is to us?
In my experience in the Church, is the focus on what God does or who He is?
What do my prayers reflect, a focus on works or on identity?
How do believers achieve balance between doing for and with God versus being with and knowing God?
In ways I’ll never be able to explain, the timeliness of reading the right book at the right time surfaced again this afternoon. I recently picked it up off clearance at Books A Million.
In Chapter 4 entitled “Jesus’ Prayer of Praise,” McHenry shared that Richard Foster says adoration has two forms, praise and thanksgiving. Thanksgiving expresses appreciation for what God has done; praise acknowledges who God is.
This struck me through a simple word-praise. I have been contrasting the words adoration and thanksgiving without thought to the word praise. Accepting this teaching that they are really all the same brings some relief to my analytical brain.
That final question in the list above comes from how I’ve been approaching prayer the last three weeks. I’ve leaned more in the adoring lane than the thanking or asking lane-an effort to discipline my focus on relationship. A reminder to praise is well taken.
By the way, in this chapter McHenry shared a terrific list to help us all improve our adoration. Seemed worth sharing.
This is my third and final post reflecting on Dutch Sheets’ The Pleasure of His Company. Chapter 29, “The Connection,” was the highlight for me. Maybe because he references Old Testament characters I’ve been reading about the last few weeks. But I’m pretty sure it’s because he drills down on a topic I’ve been chewing on, again, for the last two weeks. What matters more, who you are or what you do?
That’s not really his intention, but that’s where it goes. And, for the record, he doesn’t really give you an answer. Here are my four highlights for illustration:
“At times, the most spiritual thing we can do is the most natural and practical. Work is practical yet very spiritual; feeding hungry people is, as well; nurturing our children is practical, time-consuming, tiring-and very spiritual. Keepin’ it simple is sometimes keepin’ it spiritual.”
“To be holy doesn’t mean being separate ‘from sin,’ but rather ‘unto God’…Holiness isn’t sinlessness.”
“…strength lies not in the perfection of my outward performance but the connection of my inward heart.”
“There’s a vast difference between performing for acceptance and performing from acceptance.“
There’s a noticeable difference when a relationship has shifted to from away from for. Sometimes others can see it better than you; sometimes not. If you’re really not sure, the best person to check in with is your Creator. He knows what it means to live from illustrated by instructing Moses to tell everyone, “I AM sent me.”
Go with what He tells you. If He says your offering brings him pleasure, that’s all you need. You’re in good company.
Sheets continues in the next chapter of The Pleasure of His Company to dig into aspects of our relationship with God. He zeros in on a belief that God’s nature is misunderstood. A misunderstanding of God’s nature would certainly explain why worship can lack passion, be endured, or even resisted.
I don’t believe the problem with most believers’ worship is hypocrisy or insincerity. I think the majority is trying to honor God by giving Him His dues and fulfilling their obligation to Him as the Creator. I doubt if most of them understand, or have even heard, that God is a lover as well as a Lord. And it wasn’t his lording nature that prompted him to create us-He could have made a few billions more angels had that been His desire. It was his loving nature. God is a Father at heart.
Chapter 2, “The Seeker”
This morning I got to talk with a guy at church for the first time and found out he works for a local, family-owned business. Between their six locations, they have over 800 employees. Describing being employed there he said, “You work hard, but it’s like family. We have a hard time finding good employees, but we continue to grow and I love working there.”
He’s describing a work place that isn’t only about lording. We all pretty well can tell the difference between lording and loving. If you come from a faith setting that focuses more on a lording view of God’s nature, it’s probably long overdue for your relationship to take a shift and consider his loving nature.
John Gregory 