Ragged Faith

Pages taken from the journals of one exploring the Way

The Death of a Mentor

Many times you can have a mentor who is an author – whose writings shape your perspective and understanding. Rarely do you have the opportunity to meet the author and interact with them personally. Fortunately I was able to meet this mentor/author, but only once. This solitary meeting left an imprint on my soul. In early 2010 I had the honor of meeting and speaking with Dallas Willard, who passed away today after a battle with cancer. I post this out of gratitude for his life and how he drew me, and many others, to Jesus.

It was early 2010 when I met Dallas. I was not in the greatest personal space. It was one of the hardest times of my journey. We met at a conference in Washington, D.C. where he was speaking to a group of pastors and planters – less than 150 of us. I’ll never forget sitting in his sessions having to make the choice of trying to write down everything he said or simply just sit and experience the God he spoke of. He didn’t waste a word. As I reflect back on that experience I now know what drew me to him – what caused me to hang on his every word. It was Christ in him. As a philosopher he could’ve talked theory and theology all day long – but instead he spoke intimately of the God he knew and loved – the God who knew and loved him.

During a break I remember approaching him and saying something to the effect of, “I feel like I’m losing all that I’ve known, but I’m feeling more alive.” A big smile came over his face as he said to me, “That sounds about right.” As he closed that conference he thanked the 150 of us there with tears in his eyes, calling us beautiful people. He thanked us, yet we were indebted to him.

I’ve read plenty of his books, but what sticks with me is the 5 minute conversation we had. First hand I can say he helped me know Jesus better – and now he knows Jesus fully.

Thank you God for the gift of Dallas Willard. May you give the world more like him who know you so well.

Why We Ignore the Inner Life

So much of life is focused on doing – so little on who we’re becoming. We focus on the outer person when the spiritual life focuses on the inner person. Christians tend to focus on the outer person and what we do, forgetting that what we do comes from who we are – and who we are comes from who we’re becoming. Yet, who we’re becoming is the last part we focus on. Why do we pay so little attention to who we’re becoming?

One reason is the doing part is easier to focus on. There is something measurable when we do something. We need to feel as though our time is being well spent and productive. When we focus on the physicality of doing something we can measure what we’ve done. We feel a sense of accomplishment. In essence, we have control over the process by which things get done, not to mention we derive a sense of worth from the finished product.

Not so when focusing on who we’re becoming. Yes, it takes some effort, but it is effort combined with the mysterious work of God and his grace. God’s timetable is different and there is no finished product. It’s a direction, or as Eugene Peterson aptly describes it, a long obedience in the same direction. We have no control over this process. The only thing we control is whether or not we’ll say yes to participation. Unlike having the ability to manipulate the speed we can accomplish the things we set out to do the only choice we have as we open ourself up to being is that of submission.

And no one wants to submit. Neither do we like not seeing an immediate return for the time we invest. Who wants to sit and listen when they may not hear? Who wants to sit silently in solitude when it is seemingly so unproductive? Who wants to reflect on their thoughts, actions, and days when they will not like what they see? But these are some of the things we do to focus on our being, and these are some practices that shape our becoming.

What we do comes out of who we’re becoming, and it would do good to take time and reflect on the things we do to notice who we’re becoming.

 

What to do with Tragedy

Friday afternoon I heard the news of the massacre in Newtown, CT. I turned on the television to learn children – the age of my youngest – were murdered. Emotions are very close to the surface for me, and in that moment I felt varied emotions of sadness, grief, and loss. What was I to do with what was in front of me? I thought of responses to that question on a number of levels, but I want to share with you how I attempted to answer it as a pastor with our church family just yesterday.

Grieve.

Grieving is messy. In grief you experience the range of human emotions. Anger. Sadness. Emptiness. Tears. Wailing. If you do it well you look quite dissheveled in the process (a light bit of humor in a more serious post). Grieving means you don’t let that which caused the grief to pass you by. You don’t ignore it. You engage it. This is how I encouraged our church family to respond. There is something holy about grieving well.

Grieving lets God know there’s something wrong. Does he know it? Sure, but there’s no issue in reminding him. In fact, it’s quite biblical. Tragically, it’s something absent in our churches. Let’s just sing another upbeat song. For more reasons than I could list we have a fear of being honest about the dark parts of our heart, the struggles of our faith, or the grief we experience in life.

In spite of this fear I would suggest that grieving in times like these is the most appropriate response. I could do without hearing how the absence of prayer in schools is the cause of such atrocities. This in and of itself testifies to our very limited view of God and the toxic nature of making sense of such evil by constructing nice little boxes to fit answers into. Screw that. Wail. That’s a response.

I was drawn back to Henri Nouwen’s work, Turn My Mourning into Dancing. In it he writes this, “The world in which we live lies in the power of the Evil One, and the Evil One would prefer to distract us and fill every little space with things to do, people to meet, business to accomplish, products to be made. He does not allow any space for genuine grief and mourning. Our busyness has become a curse, even while we think it provides us with relief from the pain inside. Our overpacked lives serve only to keep us from facing the inevitable difficulty that we all, at some time or another, must face.”

Would an appropriate response be to grieve well? To me this is the beauty of God in the midst of the ugliness of evil. Where is God? I believe He’s in our tears if we allow them to be shed. Where can we find God in this? We find God as we find him at home in ourselves (Jn 14:23) and join with what we find Jesus doing as he experiences the grieving of a community upon the death of a friend: he weeps.

May we learn to grieve well. May we find solidarity with one another through grief. May we not avoid it but enter into it as Jesus entered into our world – fully engaged with the suffering of humanity to bring hope and redemption. Amen.

The Beauty that We Miss

Last night I was discussing civil religion with a group from our faith community. We shared ideas on how easy it is for religious acts to be something we do as a part of a rhythm of our life without these acts actually bringing life. We identified a difference between acts of our faith and a life of faith – the former separating the sacred and secular, the latter seeing all things as sacred.

One person made the comment that I’ve heard many times before. Here’s the gist of the comment: “It’s too easy in the country we live in. If we live somewhere where persecution happens we would take our faith more seriously.” I’ve thought the same before, however, those comments struck me differently last night, as coming out of a place of fear.

As I’ve grown in my own faith understanding and experience of Jesus I’ve realized it is not defined by fear but by an ever-deepening understanding and experience of the love, presence, and beauty of God. Perhaps what is missing is not persecution, but an experience of the beauty of God.

We then began to discuss what takes us away from experiencing the goodness and beauty of God. We listed a variety of things: work, family, kids, riding bike or other hobbies. These were things distracting us from God.

I grew up thinking this way – putting God was in this box. I experienced an understanding of God and faith that revolved around my religious duties. My spirituality was based on how much time I spent going down my prayer list (that I was supposed to have created). I felt guilty about not doing this long enough or more frequently and consistently. I allowed the overwhelming guilt of sin to condemn, shame, and lead me to question God’s love for me. God was only found when I did my religious duties or led an above board moral life. God was not in school, family, friends, food, walks, work, or whatever else I did in those non-religious times. I didn’t look for him there because I was never told he was there.

But God is there – precisely there. For example…

The experience of God’s beauty and presence is found our your children. They are not a distraction, but an invitation. They invite us to laugh at meaningless things in our world of seriousness. They beckon us to admit our own need for love as they come repeatedly for our love and affirmation. In their dependence they mirror what it is like to be dependent on our creator. The beauty of God is found in their laughter, imagination, creativity, and peace as we watch them sleep (this last one gets less cute as they grow older…then they drool and snore!).

The experience of God’s goodness and beauty is found in our work. In it he forms and shapes our character. We are dependent upon his grace. We are reminded of purpose beyond a paycheck. In most of our roles we are forced to be around people – forced into relationships – the very thing God has created us for. Some of these relationships feed us and help us grow. Others challenge us yet still help us grow, because in these relationships we deepen in our ability for God’s mercy, grace, and love to flow through us.

God is in our hobbies, too. Where do we come up with this idea that God does not want us to enjoy life? He creates us for life and redeems us for life. Some of my hobbies/things I enjoy are music, reading, nature, walks, eating, listening, learning (note, none are really exercise). I experience God in these things. They are not a break from reality. They are reality. They are not a distraction but an opportunity to experience the Divine presence of the Creator of all things and the one who nurtures our souls.

Perhaps the problem isn’t that we don’t suffer enough. While we can’t say we (as the church) suffer much here in the good ol’ US of A, by virtue of being human beings we do suffer. We suffer as we experience our fallen, broken humanity. We don’t need more suffering.

Perhaps what we’re missing is the beauty – the ability to see and experience how the life of God is manifested all around us.

If we would just wake up
look outside of where we expect to find him
then, He may be found.

Time to Confess

I am becoming more and more convinced that what is lacking in most people’s lives is a relationship where one can be open, honest, and vulnerable about the struggles they face in life.

As I dive more into the ministry of serving others as a pastor I notice the incredible absence of these kinds of relationships, yet these kinds of relationships are exactly what people a) describe as a desire or b) is what they desperately need as they face the enormous challenge of simply being a fallen human being.

This may point to an issue of trust we have in relationship to and with one another. We’ve been burned in the past. We’ve opened up only to have people use what we’ve shared against us. We fear the ridicule or judgement of others – or the shame of saying out loud what we know in our hearts: we’ve failed…and sometimes miserably.

It may also point to the issue of busyness…we just don’t have time for that kind of thing. After all, it would take a great deal of emotional, relational, and logistical investment to make a relationship like that happen.

James writes this at the close of his book, “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” Could we then say, no confession, no healing? Would it be safe to say that there are a lot of us who are walking around sick while pretending like it’s all ok?

As I think about serving my own church I’m beginning to believe one of the most helpful things I can create space for is these kinds of relationships where people can open up about what’s going on underneath the smiling surface. Come on…nobody’s that happy all the time, are they?! We all need someone to stand with us, but we also need to invite people to the space next to us.

Practical questions:
a) Do you have a confessional friendship? A person (of the same sex!) who you can share what goes on beneath the surface?
b) If not, who are the people in your life that might be that kind of person for you?
c) If you can think of no one, who are a few people who you want to get to know at a deeper level? Will you invest the time and take the initiative?
d) If you’ve been journeying with Jesus for some time, perhaps you can be the person people can come to…perhaps it’s time to make some new friends.

These kinds of relationships don’t just happen overnight. They take time to cultivate and develop. However, once established these types of friendships are what God uses to form and shape us into the image of Jesus. God uses them to help us become whole. They encourage us, listen to us, challenge us, and rebuke us…in each case with Christ-centered love where mercy triumphs over judgment. God did not create us to live isolated, disconnected lives. Part of redemption is the redemption of relationship with one another…to be naked (figuratively speaking 😉 ) with one another and share those parts of our life that shame us. As we bring those things to light before God and these friends we find healing and come more fully into the life God has created for us to live.

 

Following Jesus and Fast Food

I will begin by acknowledging there may have been those yesterday who, in good conscience and with prayerful consideration, showed up to consume some chicken.

However, what I believe to be more accurate is that ‘Christians’ again went along with the politicized American cultural climate of consumerism and hatred toward those with different ideologies and supported those who are like them in order to prove a point to those who are different. And many did so thoughtless of the consequences.

Yesterday wasn’t about Chick-fil-A no matter how much people try and spin it that way. Yesterday was using yet another area of cultural discord to accentuate a divide between groups and classes of people rather than unite people together in love and mutual respect.

We’ve fogotten Jesus’ example of being with those the culture of his day (and ours) hated. We’ve forgotten Paul’s words that the battle is truly not against flesh and blood, but principalities and powers. That’s right, if those you’re fighting have flesh and blood you’re looking in the wrong place. They’re not your enemy. They’re your brother or sister. I would name the enemies in this case to be a system of politics and ethics that demonize and sacrifice people to prove points.

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” Jesus in Luke 6:32