Ardor Awakening

The Often Pagan Nature of Worship

2012-01-27T08:58:00.000-06:00

Anybody still out there? I haven't posted in a while here but I stumbled across this article and wanted to share. Link to site is at the bottom of the article...

What is worship? Our English word comes from the Anglo-Saxon weorthscipe, which means "to honor" or "to ascribe worth." It is interesting that, in this regard, the Book of Common Prayer, 1662, includes within the vows for the solemnization of matrimony: "with my body I thee worship." That is a fairly succinct statement of the biblical understanding of sexuality.

The Old Testament Hebrew word used for worship means "a bowing down." Keep this in mind. For the Hebrews, worship was a verb, something you did. The same idea is behind the New Testament Greek word for worship which means "to serve." In anticipation of what I will be saying later, let me suggest this to you: the difference between a biblical and a pagan understanding of worship lies in the difference between a verb and a noun. For the person of the Bible, worship is something you do. For the pagan, worship is a state of being.

What is it, then, we do when we ascribe worth to God and bow down and serve him on Sunday morning? I believe we engage in a ritual drama. By ritual, I mean we use certain fixed forms of words, i.e., sermons, prayers, hymns. By drama, I mean that the telling of a story is woven throughout those rituals: the story of God's mighty acts of salvation in Jesus Christ.

Let me give you an example of what I mean from popular culture. When we worship God, we do essentially the same thing I did when I watched on television last month, for the eleventh time, a replay of USC's great 1974 victory over Notre Dame. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this bit of Heilsgechichte (sacred history), that was the game in which USC was down seventeen points at half-time. Anthony Davis of USC received the second half kickoff one yard in his own end zone and ran it back 101 yards for a touchdown. For the rest of the second half USC totally dominated Notre Dame with Davis' runs and Pat Haden's passes to J. K. McKay. The final score: USC 55, Notre Dante 24.

"But," you protest, "you know everything that is going to happen. Why have you watched it so many times?" My answer: That is precisely the point. I watch it over and over again because I know what will happen. Certain values I have are confirmed and reaffirmed. Once again, good triumphs over evil, light over darkness.

You do the same thing whenever you watch your favorite television program. Dramatized, in story form, will be certain values and beliefs you hold to as an American. They will be about life and what it means, its problems and its solutions. Some social analysts call popular television programs, especially the interminable series variety, ritual drama. That's because they, like my favorite USC/Notre Dame game, reaffirm what we believe. They are like worship services. For many Americans they are worship services in that they are weekly, and sometimes daily, confirmations and reaffirmations of the core of values we hold in common as citizens of this country.

The Bible is filled with ritual drama. Revelation 5:9-10 is a good case in point. The multitudes of heaven are gathered around the throne of God. At his right hand stands the Lamb who has just been declared worthy to take the scroll in God's right hand and open it up. The scroll is of immense importance because it contains the decrees of God for the future of the planet Earth. The occasion is one of great joy for the congregation of heaven, so they break into a service of worship of the Lamb singing:

Worthy art thou to take the scroll and open its seals, for thou wast slain and by thy blood didst ransom men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and hast made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on earth. Ritual drama: that is what we are witnessing in this spectacular heavenly worship service. The story of salvation is in some way retold and its values upheld, all as the worshipers offer thanks and praise.

A pivotal question must be asked here, the answer to which takes us to the heart of what happens in truly Christian worship. In this ritual drama, who is the audience and who is the performer? Clearly, the answer is that God is the audience and the congregation is the performer. As Soren Kierkegaard put it, in Christian worship God is the audience, the congregation the performer, and the minister, choir, and other leaders are the prompters.

If just this one fundamental truth were to sink into the consciousness of Christians, worship would be transformed. The overwhelming majority of Christian congregations have the roles reversed. The congregation regards itself as the audience, while regarding the prompters and God, I suspect, as the performers. The congregation comes to have a "worship experience." That is not only idolatrous in its reversal of worship roles, but pagan in its understanding of worship itself. Worship theri becomes a noun, a state of being, an experience induced by God or the choir or the pastor. Biblically, however, worship is a verb, something the congregation or performer does.

At least three implications flow out of this understanding of worship as ritual drama. The first has to ! do with history. God is the God of history: of the past, the present, and the future. The Lamb was slain, and has made us free and we shall reign, say the words of the hymn in the Revelation passage.

Christian worship is essentially an act of remembrance. That is what the Lord's Supper does. It remembers the Lord's death, even as it celebrates his resurrection presence and looks forward to his return. There they are again: past, present, and future.

One of the fallacies and conceits of our times is that God has done little or nothing since the death of the last apostle until right now. We place great stock in the New Testament and first century i church, and in our own. In my congregation there I are those who want to sing only the new songs and those who want to sing only the old songs. What is funny about all this is that the "old songs," at their oldest, may date back to nineteenth-century revivalism.

The God of past, present, and future whom we worship in ritual drama was just as active in the fourth, eleventh, or seventeenth centuries as he is now. Our songs, prayers, sermons, and confessions should recognize this in worship. Besides making us a more biblical people, it would give us a perspective on ourselves and relieve us of a bit of our conceit.

The second implication has to do with preparation. Because we are the performers, we must come to worship prepared. Can you imagine your chagrin if you paid twenty dollars to hear a performance of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony and the orchestra came into the concert hall late? What if the director stood before the audience and said something like this: "Wow! Have we had a busy month! Lots of travel, several recording sessions, and now here we are, and we haven't had a chance to rehearse tonight's concert. Listen, I have a great idea. Everyone here is an accomplished musician. What do you say we just have a jam session for the next ninety minutes? Just let it flow. Be spontaneous!"

You would be angry if the orchestra arrived late and unprepared because you paid a lot of money for the performance. What did God pay for our performance? The blood of his own Son. What does this mean pragmatically? It means things like a good night's sleep on Saturday. It means things like arriving on time. I believe Sunday morning tardiness is a theological issue. It means things like prayer and Bible study on the days leading up to Sunday morning. Howard Rice has said that reformation worship assumed of the congregation that its individual members had spent an hour a day through the week in Bible reading and prayer!

All of this contradicts what Tom Howard calls the "myth of spontaneity." It is a very appealing myth. It says we would all be free, direct, and spontaneous if we could just dismantle tradition, structures, and conventions. Unfortunately this contradicts everything else we know in human experience. It was hard work, austerity, and discipline that produced the Dialogues of Plato, the B Minor Mass, and the Theory of Relativity. Should it be any different in our relationship to God? Just as not much that is worthy, substantial, and noteworthy proceeds from mere spontaneity in other forms of human endeavor, so it is in Christian worship. I believe God is, at the very least, unimpressed with merely spontaneous worshipers.

A good metaphor for the true freedom of disciplined Christian worship can be found in the dancer's art. Nothing looks more free and spontaneous than a great dancer performing. But beneath all of that freedom and spontaneity are years of drills, repetition, sweat, strain, and more drills.

Sunday morning worship is to the rest of our lives what cultivation is to a garden. We weed, prune, water, and feed to the end that the garden may be beautiful—spontaneous gardens are not; disciplined gardens are.

The last implication has to do with focus. And with this I close, because it sums up everything.

Christ is at the center of Christian worship, not us and our experience. We are not there to get, but to give. The question we should be asking ourselves on the way home on Sunday morning is not, "What did I get out of it?" but rather, "How did I do?" For when all the sermons have been preached, all the anthems sung, all the worship renewal workshops conducted, and all our innovations come and gone, that is all that will have mattered: that we said with our whole being, "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!"

From here.

Spurgeon

2011-08-09T09:01:00.000-05:00

This moved me deeply this morning. It seemed especially appropriate as I wrestle with the idea of sacrament and what it means for God to use the tangible to convey His healing presence.

Have your heart right with Christ,

and He will visit you often,

And so turn

weekdays into Sundays,

meals into sacraments,

homes in to temples

and earth into heaven.

~Charles Spurgeon

Hilarious...

2011-07-29T11:10:00.001-05:00

On the 8th day, God created photoshop...

via

Paths

2011-06-24T10:07:00.001-05:00

How do you expect to arrive at the end of your own journey if you take the road to another man's city? How do you expect to reach your own perfection by leading someone else's life? - Thomas Merton

So...what is worship?

2011-04-26T23:52:00.000-05:00

     As a worship leader for the past 12 years, I’ve had numerous opportunities to talk with people about the broad and sometimes ambiguous subject of worship. Within those conversations, I’ve frequently encountered a common misconception about corporate worship within the Christian church: that worship somehow only involves the action of singing songs. If this were true, there would be many that would be left as outsiders, unable to fully participate because of tonal deficiencies or lack of musical skill. Singing comes as a challenge to many, so it’s easy to see how this perception of the nature of worship would make the entire issue rather frustrating. The dance of worship is, in fact, much richer and broader in scope than solely musical expression. It involves the totality of our being and requires action on our part but not just with our mouths or vocal chords.
     Worship is unique in that its direction is three-fold. It involves examining and revisiting the past with a spirit of gratitude for all God has done for us. It requires an awareness of God’s activity and his grace and mercy toward us in the present, and it compels us to expectantly fix our attention on the future hope we have in his promise to restore and recreate all things.
      As ministers and leaders it is our intent to highlight the worshiping nature of every action and element that comprises our corporate gatherings so that God receives glory in all that we do and our attention and affections are continually directed toward him. We recognize the presence of Christ among us as we greet each other in the name of the Lord. We identify the work of the Spirit when we give public testimony about His grace, provision, and mercy. We commemorate his death and its ushering in of a New Covenant when we take Communion. We praise Him for His glorious and mysterious redemptive work through history as we read and preach the Holy Scriptures. We celebrate the new life He has given and the community of believers that we’re born into when we witness a baptism. All these actions and hundreds more make up the worship of God by His Church. Our “liturgy”, this dance of worship, is something that cannot be contained or condensed into merely the songs that we sing before the sermon. Our lives, our hearts, our bodies, and our spirits are all living, pulsating components of the worship of our God.

Good Friday Prayer

2011-04-22T16:38:00.001-05:00

We veil our faces before your glory,
O Holy and Immortal one,
and bow before the cross of your wounded Christ.
with angels and archangels,
we praise you, our Mercy,
and we bless you, our Compassion,
for in our brokenness
you have not abandoned us.
Hear us as we pray through Jesus, our high priest:
heal all division,
reconcile the estranged,
console the suffering,
and raise up to new life
all that is bound by death. Amen.

Recounting: Part 1

2010-11-08T18:28:00.000-06:00

“When was the moment that you first fell in love with me?” She asks, waiting patiently for my response.

The question comes repeatedly, sometimes on dates and dinners, but most often on anniversaries. I know this may sound insensitive, but for a while I couldn’t understand why my wife had such a terrible memory. “Haven’t I told her this story a hundred times?” I would think to myself.

I soon realized that it was not gaps in her memory that I needed to fill in for her. She wasn’t asking because she didn’t already know. She wasn’t having memory lapses about this particular area of our journey or some type of chronic amnesia that seemed to only crop up on special days. She wanted to hear the story of our love’s genesis again. My wife wanted us, in the present moment, to bring the past forward to re-present this eternally significant moment of our story.

When we recount our story, we relive the feelings that surfaced in those cherished moments. Essentially, we bring a portion of the past to the present, and it subsequently causes us to look forward to the future of our love. Our story needs to be continually told.

The beauty of the Eucharist, or Communion, is that it does just this. This act stands as one of the most significant actions of Christian worship. It’s an action that not only crosses geographical limitations to unite us with believers across the globe, but suspends the limits of time to connect us to Christians from every generation who have partaken in this simple, glorious act.

The centrality of the Eucharist in Christian worship has been lost in much of Western Christianity. Many contemporary churches see it as more of a nuisance that clumsily hacks into their struggle for “relevance.” (When you’re entire service is geared towards those outside of the community of faith, it becomes an awkward addition to any church gathering.) But since they consider it an “ordinance,” they appease their spiritual consciences by taking part in it quarterly or yearly. Much of the significance placed on it by the early church and the majority has been abandoned, and the vast weight of the rest of historical Christianity has been lost.

When we partake of the bread and the wine, it is effectively a recounting of the story of the gospel. At its most basic level, it is a joyous retelling of the story of God’s salvation of humanity. It is an action that is inextricably linked to the ancient past in its echoes of the Jewish Passover, but even this connection does little to fully explain the heavy depth of the union of spirit and flesh that the meal declares.

Unintentional Hiatus

2010-11-05T23:22:00.001-05:00

Most sabbatical's are planned or announced beforehand. Not so here.
Hope to get back into the swing of things soon.

Sifting Opportunity

2010-06-24T17:08:00.000-05:00

Opportunity usually arrives in erratic surges; at least that’s what I’ve noticed in my life. The only predictable characteristic of opportunity is that, inevitably, there will be an ebb and flow of when it presents itself; a small gush against the shoreline, full of possible new paths or prospects, followed by a recoil of circumstance, drawing out the moisture of chance from the sand and leaving desert-like sterility in its retreat.

When opportunity does spring forward, presenting numerous paths or doors to be explored, the difficult task of sifting through the choices that are presented has to be undertaken in order to discover where, exactly, the Spirit is drawing. This is not easy for me. My first instinct is to follow opportunity wherever it leads and ask questions later. But every door that opens is not always meant to be walked through. Every path that presents itself is not always meant to taken. Sifting opportunity is difficult for me because I always have had this nagging sensation that I’ll miss something life-changing if I make the wrong life-choices. For whatever reason, I feel this strange omnipotence when it comes to having the ability to screw up my own life. Oh, how foolish I am.

But opportunity must be placed inside a sieve to determine its ultimate worth and meaning for my family and our journey. A good opportunity is not necessarily the best opportunity for our lives. Ultimately, some opportunities must be turned down. I’m learning not to jump forward just because something presents itself that sounds appealing, but to wait and ponder and pray.

In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

Celebrating Obscurity

2010-06-03T07:58:00.002-05:00

A good friend of mine had a birthday the other day. In our brief conversation that morning, he jokingly mentioned his fear of getting older and becoming irrelevant. I responded by saying that I had already embraced the fact that I am destined for a life of obscurity and irrelevance.

After we hung up, I thought about that short exchange a little deeper. Have I really become content with the place that God may have for me? For whatever reason, contentment is something I've always really struggled with. I know a certain level of discontent is good and keeps us striving and pushing forward, but I think my issue goes a little deeper.

I heard a statistic once that stated that something like 70% of people between the ages of 18-25 think they are, in some way, going to enjoy some type of notoriety or fame. Everyone wants to be famous, and apparently, most young people in this age bracket actually believe it. Our culture is obsessed with fame, and the church is no different. Even most ministers (though most would never admit it) secretly want to pastor a mega church, or be a best-selling author, or sign a record deal.

Years ago, I wrote a song (partially, anyway…which apparently is my writing style;) that had the following lyric, “Take my hand and follow me, into the bliss of obscurity”. I was struggling then with the prospect of never being anyone in the eyes of the world. I wrestled with that reality then, and I think I still wrestle with it from time to time now. When we think of obscurity, of drifting into the background and blending in with everything else that goes on in our world, most of us are gripped with a nagging fear. Christianity doesn't automatically make us immune to this desire.We long to be unique and valued by others. We hope that our lives will stand out and that we will enjoy some type of notoriety in whatever field or ministry we find ourselves in. We all want to be known and celebrated for who we are and what we accomplish. And of course, unlike everyone else, we’re convinced that we would carry our “fame” with a modest humility.

But this is not the path that the vast majority of us will take. In fact, Christ promises the exact opposite. Parenthetically, if the culture of 1st century Judea had been as obsessed with fame as we have become, I’m confident that Christ would have included a fame amendment to go along his “easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” speech to the rich young ruler.

Why is obscurity so frightening? Why is it hard for us to settle into the prospect of just having an “average” life?

Father, grant me a deep peace that overrides any other urge in my life. Fill me with a sense of Your purpose and Your notoriety and not a lust for my own.

So, I take my seat at the table of obscurity that God has prepared for me; where anonymity rids its inhabitants of any pride, greed, or itch for notoriety; where all eyes turn to celebrate the only One worthy of fame, the One who deserves this feast.

Stepping on anyone's toes?

2010-05-13T09:52:00.011-05:00

Saw this first on Scott Bailey's blog.

Wow...just...wow.
And think, this is what most contemporary western churches aspire to.

"Sunday's Coming" Movie Trailer from North Point Media on Vimeo.

God bless Nashville

2010-05-05T16:32:00.003-05:00

I love this city.

If you would have asked me 10 years ago, my response would have likely been different. At 17, I was at that age where all you want to do is escape from the place you grew up. It’s in those late teen years that you tend to view every part of your childhood with repugnance.

But now, I’m ready to embrace, respect and, yes, even love those various pieces that have come together to make me who I am. Nashville has so much to do with that. Even with the tourist traps, the dense cluster of jaded musicians, and the constant barrage of demos being passed around to no one in particular by aspiring singer-songwriters, I absolutely adore this city.

I was listening to a father talk about his feelings toward his son last night. He told a story where his son had gotten injured and taken to the hospital. The father told of the panic and emotion that rose up in his soul at that moment. It was in those few seconds that all the love he had for his son surfaced, overwhelming his emotions.

Strangely, I think I’ve felt something similar for Nashville in the past few days. I could never really understand how much I care for this city and the people that call it home until the aftermath of this past weekend’s flood. The pain that this city has undergone in just a few days breaks my heart. But the way the city is coming together in the midst of the tragedy is amazing. Half a dozen benefit concerts have already been scheduled. A telethon is scheduled for tonight to raise money for the Red Cross and its effort to provide relief to those that are coping with the loss of their loved ones, homes, and possessions. The city is brimming with volunteers ready to help in whatever way they can. When you see people coming together like this, the true emotions you have for a place quickly surface.

I pray for my hometown as it starts on the long road of rebuilding and recovery.

God bless Nashville.

The greatest song I’ve ever written…

2010-03-11T14:54:00.003-06:00

I have a constant ache to create.

I believe that we’re all born with it. I think it is part of being made in the image of God. We’re created to create, just as He creates. Our creative capacities and impulses no doubt differ from one person to the next, but as a whole, I believe that every human has an innate desire to craft something of worth. Whether you are a songwriter, poet, painter, parent, interior designer, or anything else, I believe that this longing to create something of value and beauty resides in us all.

My desire to create has been satisfied, to some extent, over the past year. That doesn’t at all mean that I don’t feel the urge to write a melody, or a poem, or a song on a regular basis. That compulsion still exists and I have to attend to it constantly, sometimes quenching it, sometimes appeasing it, sometimes postponing it.

But for the most part, over the last year, my creative inclinations have been temporarily contented. I think I have a pretty good understanding of why. If you feel like you’ve composed a masterpiece, it’s very hard to go back to writing anything less…;)

Happy birthday, my son.
March 8, 2010

20 years with Christ

2010-03-04T16:32:00.002-06:00

Today is my birthday. I say that not to provoke well wishes from anyone who may stumble upon this post, but to simply connect today with a much more notable attribute of this time for me. When I look ahead to the coming year, the most significant part of it that stands out is the fact that this spring will mark my 20th year in my walk with Christ.

I could write for hours about my stubborn resistance to sanctification over these past twenty years, my obstinate hesitancy to trust the God I’ve walked with all this time, but that’s not my intention here.

I want to look back at the wells of water that have quenched my thirst along my journey, the Ebenezers that have been raised along the path, the altars that I’ve built in order to remember the unwavering faithfulness of God. I can, without hesitation, sing with the psalmist “surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” because that has been the theme of my journey thus far.

I can look back and clearly mark the moments of mercy. I can still taste the goodness of the Lord that I experienced along the way. True, the deserts have been arid. There have been times where I have felt so off course. The communion I’ve shared at His table has been consistently sweet, though I’ve rejected His friendship more times than I can possibly count. My faith has often been misplaced. My vain and corrupt searches for my own kingdom have left me exhausted. I’ve doubted, wandered, and resented. I’ve been skeptical of His goodness, wrestled with envy, and grappled with apathy.

But I have tasted and the taste still lingers, even in times of disenchantment. The wellsprings along the path have always led me into an even deeper relationship with the One I journey with.

And He continues to invite me onward… into the next twenty years.

Vigil

2010-02-24T14:30:00.002-06:00

I’ve always been fascinated by the Cistercian Order. I’m completely intrigued by those that feel called to a disciplined life of prayer and physical labor in quiet community with their brothers in the faith, drawn out from the world in order to seek God more fully in mind, spirit and body. On several occasions, I have had the opportunity to journey north to the oldest Trappist Monastary in the U.S., The Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky and to stay in the retreat house adjacent to the monk’s quarters. The Trappist monk’s life is a beautiful picture of kinship, full of quiet wonder at the work of God in and among men. The Abbey itself is situated in the hills of Kentucky, surrounded by dirt roads, dense woods, and farmland. Some of my fondest memories of communing with God come from my times of retreat there. It probably has a lot to do with my personality, but times of solitude and quiet tend to revive my spirit and work to reposition my focus on the true things of God, His mercy, and His purposes.

Trappists monks are signified by their fervent, disciplined devotion to prayer. I, on the other hand, am not. I’m, at best, undisciplined and listless. I want to be defined by constancy, devotion and self-discipline, but I would more likely be identified by my timidity and insecurities. Letting myself be overtaken by subtle distractions is one of my many, many vices.

As a protestant raised in the contemporary church, I grew up with the obligatory suspicion of anything liturgical. The mantra in my life, as it is with most contemporary churchers, has been “no one should dictate how I communicate with God” (a very Western/American influenced view of prayer, I’m sure). By default, we’re taught that prayer should be conversational and somewhat informal, and trust me when I say, I believe there are numerous aspects of this viewpoint that are positive and that I will always hold to.

The problem with completely shunning all things liturgical is our own inability to articulate prayer at times. Though we feel free to talk to God whenever and however we want, we just don’t do it most of the time for some reason. For the average believer, prayer is needs based, as opposed to relationship based. And because we’ve tossed out the scripts, we’re often times left like actors with no lines to read. True, spontaneous improvisation is immensely desirable, but can sometimes feel insufficient. Quite often, if we don’t have anything we’re supposed to say, then we just don’t say anything at all.

Before you write me off, let me give an example.

My son has had trouble sleeping the last few days. He started waking up more frequently and became less and less able to put himself back to sleep. Jes and I got into the bad habit of pulling him out of His bed and putting him between us in ours so that he would quickly fall back asleep and we could attain blessed silence once again. We realized that we were going to have to start leaving him in his bed in order to train him to fall back asleep on his own. The first few nights didn’t go too well. He would wake up several times and be completely inconsolable. We had to just let him cry for a while. Well, this has become an ebb and flow of a few days with great sleep followed by a few more days where he chooses spend much of the night restless and crying. When he’s chosen not to sleep, I’ll occasionally kneel beside his bed and try to soothe him back to sleep by rubbing his back. In some cases, this results in me rubbing his back for 30 or 40 minutes straight at 4am. In those moments, I’ve wanted so badly to pray, mostly because of the quietness of the moment, the physical discomfort of it all, and the otherwise ungodly hour that I find myself awake at. But for whatever reason, exhaustion, frustration, etc., I can’t seem to find the words. My spirit longs to commune with God in that moment, but my fatigued body won’t let my mind clear up enough to find the words to speak. This is where the recitation of prayers consoles me. It acts as a physical catalyst for communion with God when my mind is hazy and my body is weary… “Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom, my memory, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and cherish you have given me. I surrender it all to be guided by your will. Your grace and your love are wealth enough for me. Give me these, Lord Jesus; I ask for nothing more.”

Prayer is a curious thing. Communication with the living God from our current state would seem to require so much more preparation, effort, or will-power than it actually does. But for whatever reason, we’re invited into the conversation that is already taking place between the Spirit of Christ in us and God the Father.

Prayer changes us in ways that no other spiritual discipline can. It gently, never forcefully, aligns us with the work and will of God. It leads us into the stream of God’s flowing current. His purposes invite us in, despite the language we use, whether we are reciting a prayer or bringing the tired, wordless groanings of our spirit. By the time we position ourselves to pray, we realize that He has already begun His work in us.

A Prayer of Martin Luther

2010-02-12T09:28:00.004-06:00

iMonk posted this a few days ago, and it has stuck with me ever since I read it.

You can find the original post here.

"Behold, Lord, an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

My Lord, fill it. I am weak in the faith; strengthen me.

I am cold in love; warm me and make me fervent, that my love may go out to my neighbor.

I do not have a strong and firm faith; at times I doubt and am unable to trust you altogether.
O Lord, help me. Strengthen my faith and trust in you. In you I have sealed the treasure of all I have. I am poor; you are rich and came to be merciful to the poor. I am a sinner; you are upright. With me, there is an abundance of sin; in you is the fullness of righteousness. Therefore I will remain with you, of whom I can receive, but to whom I may not give."

-Martin Luther

May we walk with the same humility as our fathers in the faith; quick to recognize our ignorance, even quicker to confess our sinfulness.

Because of Your mercy…

2010-02-05T14:42:00.002-06:00

Jes and I have had many conversations about ministry in the last week. More often than not, our dialogue moves easily into a mutual sense of how undeserving we feel to share in the work of the Kingdom. Our lives are nothing extraordinary. We struggle to find God in the everyday routine we often find ourselves in. We have to work to engage in a consistent prayer life. All too often, we are content to leave God in the background, finding ourselves consumed with the effort it takes to get through each day.

The truth is: we absolutely don’t deserve any place in ministry. As I’ve gotten older and have become all too aware of my own perpetually bad habits, stubborn sinful inclinations, and apathetic tendencies, I grow more and more certain of God’s unrelenting mercy. I’ve shed any sense of entitlement to worldly importance that my younger self sinfully held onto. Any good that comes, any task He graciously includes us in, any person that we are commissioned to effect in a positive way, any positive thing that happens in our life is solely because He is merciful.

“Yet I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!
I say: The Lord is my portion, therefore I will put my Hope in Him. The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him. It is good to wait quietly for deliverance from the Lord. It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is still young.” Lamentations 3:21-27

Nouwen on Authenticity in Friendship

2010-01-27T10:05:00.001-06:00

"When we dare to speak from the depths of our heart to the friends God gives us, we will gradually find new freedom within us and courage to live our own sorrows and joys to the full."

Moving with the Whisper

2010-01-15T12:16:00.001-06:00

The very nature of God’s created works suggests that He plans, motivates, and even encourages change in His created beings. The earth is full of the evidence of God’s ever-evolving, systematic plan for his creation to progress. This cyclical motion of development all around us suggests that our lives are meant to follow the same pattern.

From a theological standpoint, many would say that the only reason why anything changes is because of the resulting decay of man’s fall. But I don’t agree. I think change comes with purpose, though its purpose can often be difficult to define. Our best chance of moving with the Spirit of God is to loosen our grip on our own future. Ambition can naturally result in planning, and forecasting our own future is often helpful, and in itself, not sinful. But when the plans we’ve created for ourselves become anchors, causing our sails to resist the winds of God’s intentions, then they become barriers to the intentions of the Spirit. But when the prayer “Your will be done” is a fundamental phrase in our prayer life, our plans are never a hindrance, because they’re never beyond the reach of God’s swiftly progressing story of salvation in our lives.

Lately, it seems, change seems to come relentlessly in my spirit.

Essentials

2009-10-23T15:58:00.003-05:00

Ten years ago, I was fighting the “guitars in the worship service” battle with my church. Of course, the battle wasn’t really just about guitars. At its core, the battle was much more about worship styles than instrumentation. Granted, battles of this nature were already raging among transitioning churches around the country for years before, but many churches tend to move into transition behind the curve, and my church was among that group. Fortunately for those of my generation, the most intense part of the conflict had already been waged over a decade earlier by people like my friend, Gerrit Gustafson, who was apart of the original creative team of Integrity Music. It was those individuals in that time period that faced the heaviest resistance to God’s movement, giving people like me a better opportunity to be heard. I continually felt impressed to challenge the mindset of congregants (which, as a teenager, most assuredly came across as youthful insolence and rebellion.) During that time, as many churches were still clinging to their hymnbooks and organs, I hoped that I, along with many others in my generation, could convey the fact that the instrumentation during a service shouldn’t matter, neither should the style of song in which a worship song is packaged. What truly matters is that people come into the presence of God with a worshipful spirit and that “songs, hymns, and spiritual songs” are offered “in Spirit and in Truth.” This is what God desires, and it’s what we should desire as well.

I’ve recently felt an ironic twist in the narrative, however. In the recent months, I’ve felt these same questions being posed to me by God. Am I so caught up in a “contemporary” worship mindset, that I’ve started to unhealthily cling to elements of a contemporary service that don’t hold any sort of vital role in true worship? Have I begun to assume certain instruments are crucial to a “good worship service” when in fact; these instruments are inconsequential to whether true worship is actually taking place? I feel like we’ve, once again, begun to assume some things are formulaic in our offering of worship.

Acoustic guitar + plus electric guitar + plus electric bass guitar + plus drums= good worship.

The bottom line is, if we say that worship styles shouldn’t matter, and if we say that worship instrumentation doesn’t matter, then wouldn’t worship in “spirit and in truth” be just as likely to happen at the tiny Episcopal church down the street as it would at the massive ultra-contemporary church across town?

Maybe we should rethink what is vital in our worship service. Maybe we should once again be willing to strip everything down to the bare essentials in order to burn away the dross. Maybe we should pay a little more attention to the heart behind the action. We should all know by now that formulas just don’t work.

"I want to see the kingdom come..."

2009-10-21T17:45:00.000-05:00

My brother and I went to see Fran Healy at the Belcourt Theatre this past Tuesday, one of my favorite places in the city. It was rather nostalgic for me since I’ve been listening to the band Travis for over twelve years. What a great experience it was. Fran really took the time to document his own personal history through his songwriting, as well as some of his experiences living in Scotland. I think I often forget how moving personal experiences can be when conveying an art form. Sometimes I feel jaded to anything autobiographical, especially in an age of Twitter messages, Myspace profiles, and Facebook surveys. Everything just feels so disingenuous. But to really experience, even for a moment, an authentic and personal narrative through a song is something to be treasured. I was fortunate enough to encounter it on Tuesday in that beautiful old theatre.

2:42

2009-08-24T22:37:00.001-05:00

I can’t explain the excitement I feel! This Sunday night, my wife and I will be inviting a group of our brothers and sisters from church into our home for the first of many Sunday nights of fellowship. We will be gathering to encounter authentic relationships and to fuse the lives and journeys of those who live by faith. I know that this will be a time to grow in our awareness of the bond we share as believers that supersedes our denominational, social or economic backgrounds. I pray these nights will be filled with raw encounters of authenticity and that these encounters will cause us to dive deep into the depths of God’s heart as we experience the richness, complexity, and enjoyment that genuine community brings!

Morning Gospel

2009-08-13T08:25:00.002-05:00

The flesh always resists what the soul hungers.

It’s amazing how much I hate getting up early. The air outside of my bed feels arctic and the sensation of being awake feels completely foreign. But somehow the early morning hours awaken my spirit and direct my mind towards God like no other time of the day. This morning I sat in a coffee shop at 6am in East Nashville and soaked up the air of daybreak. The café had a sliding garage door open to a veranda and let in a cool, consistent morning breeze. A contemplative spirit arose within me as I let my soul awaken at God’s gentle beckoning. The quiet gave me the opportunity to ponder, once again, the beauty of the Gospel. I was quickly reminded of my own sinfulness, even after years of “sanctification”, and the contrast it bears to the purity and holiness of Christ. How quick I am to resist community; how quickly I fall into spiritual apathy; how easily I sin against God and those around me. The sacrifice of Christ and its dramatic effect on this sinner’s existence once again stirred my affections for Him.

an artist's doxology

2009-07-28T13:30:00.004-05:00

"The arts and the sciences do have a place in the Christian life -- they are not peripheral. For a Christian, redeemed by the work of Christ and living within the norms of Scripture and under the leadership of the Holy Spirit, the Lordship of Christ should include an interest in the arts. A Christian should use these arts to the glory of God -- not just as tracts, but as things of beauty to the praise of God. And art work can be a doxology in itself." - Francis Schaeffer

a continued conversation on evangelism…

2009-07-10T10:31:00.003-05:00

I agree that cultural perceptions and priorities are continually changing in our society. I also agree that our methods must be somewhat modified to fit the context of our time. I think it is our duty as ministers of the gospel to make sure that the answers we are giving are relevant to the questions being asked of us. But we can’t expect to simply utilize the latest software, marketing schemes, or innovative tools of technology and expect lives to be changed. We can’t shove our heads in the sand and forget that the gospel is primarily about relationship, however “relevant” to the culture we may perceive ourselves as being. Our message must be coupled with our action and the truth of the gospel must be embodied in order to be identified as genuine. If those in our community are struggling to love others, and they observe us plagued by the same disease, how will they perceive that we are any different? If we are preaching change and living stagnantly, I believe, our message will inescapably fall on deaf ears. The gospel will be rejected on the grounds of the soiled version of Christ that we present. I’m seeing more and more that our character and attitude has to operate as an uninterrupted segue to our presentation of the gospel, not the other way around.

existing to worship

2009-06-29T13:52:00.000-05:00

I love old trees. I’m really not sure why. They have a way of causing me to stop and consider their faithfulness, the hundreds, if not thousands, of years they have endured, patiently, resolutely. They exist with their sculpted arms stretching against gravity, towards air and sky, moving at the winds prompting, calling on the earth around it to join in the silent dance.

God, give me the same resolve. Give me the same determination to offer myself, emotions, will, and body, in a concerted gift to my creator.

Shepherding the fields of Obscurity

2009-06-26T13:28:00.005-05:00

Sometimes I can’t help but feel like a vagrant. I often experience a strange sense of homelessness when I consider my place in life, a type of drifter’s mentality of sorts. It’s not by my conscious choosing, mind you. I unquestionably want to find my place, the ground that perfectly matches the shape of my feet, the role that was unmistakably written just for me. I wish I knew why that has been so difficult to find. I observe others close to me, happily operating in a place that feels like it was tailor-made for their personality or desires, completely and wholeheartedly engaged with the work of their hands. I see others around me with the same passions and desires and gifts that God has given me, somehow falling backwards into positions that provide for their needs materially and engage their hearts spiritually. For some reason, finding my place has seemed more enigmatic, like a formula that I just can’t get right, or a secret that I haven’t yet been told.

I heard a quote recently that has been especially applicable to life’s events recently. I think it originally referred to a particular occupation (I don’t remember which) but I think it’s especially pertinent to ministry. It goes something like this, ‘Ministry roles don’t create character in individuals; they highlight character.’ This means that whatever character a person has going into a certain ministry position will be illuminated and magnified once that person starts to operate in the position. This was eye-opening for me when I heard it for the first time. I think we assume that places of prominence or significance will evolve us into more holy beings, somehow magically hastening the work of sanctification. I don’t think it works that way. I think God provides periods of obscurity to develop in us the characteristics needed for places of notoriety. Just like David, we are seasoned in the fields of anonymity, sometimes for a season, sometimes for a lifetime, all to make our hearts pure and our spirits holy.

God give me a holy confidence in Your intentions for my life. Keep my eyes fixed on the fields of obscurity in which you’ve placed me. Keep me from foolish fears of worldly insignificance. Breathe humility deep inside my spirit. Keep my eyes fixed on exalting my King wherever I’m lead.

Father’s Day Thoughts

2009-06-21T22:43:00.002-05:00

I’m completely amazed by this holiday. I feel so privileged to be known as Jonah’s dad, so fortunate to be able to closely witness his life, yet I am the one who is celebrated today.

I am blessed beyond measure.

Savoring the Moment

2009-05-22T11:02:00.003-05:00

It’s strange how this little guy has completely captured my attention. I could stare at him for hours. His little movements are so astonishing to me- his limbs moving involuntarily, his eyes shifting from one object to another, his little smile that starts with his eyes lighting up and then turns into an expansive dimpled grin. I love every little moment I get to spend with him.

All of a sudden, one of my greatest joys in life is seeing him smile…

abandoning distrust

2009-05-21T08:24:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I get this overwhelming sense of frustration. Maybe frustration isn’t the right word. It’s more of an anti-faith, a groundswell of anxiety that causes me to question who I am. This is an old wound I’ve revisited countless times. I can recognize the moment the feeling starts. My wife can see it in my eyes when the sting arrives. A wave of anguish washes over the faith of my spirit, tearing at the stitches of a wound that the Great Physician has tended to so many times. I suddenly get discouraged by my place in life, my personality, my reality, the timing of circumstances…so completely consumed by what is summed up as “me”. I get discouraged by God’s timing, by his seemingly slow, unhurried unfolding of what He has deposited in me.

I long to rest in the identity God has bestowed on me, yet I so often try to craft the definition myself. I let myself get completely encased in my own barometer of self-worth, my classification of value. I want to let go and rest, “to just simply be a thing in Your presence” as Rilke said in one of his Book of Hours verses. I was communicating by email a few years ago with a mentor of mine and describing to him these very circumstances. He wrote back about “the gap that often exists between our swift and elegant version of how events should unfold and God's seemingly clumsy, foot-dragging, labyrinthine choreography”. How well this describes my perspective of things. I fail to rest in God all too often. I lack the trust that the spiritual life requires; the confidence in His perfect schedule. I choose, instead, to calculate my self-worth by my own graph. Oh God, release me from my delusion. Strip me of my selfishness. Breathe your truth into my life and let it settle inside me, deep and slow.

Turn

2009-04-29T09:39:00.005-05:00

"Detachment is the word used in spiritual traditions to describe freedom of desire. Not freedom from desire, but freedom of desire . . . An authentic spiritual understanding of detachment devalues neither desire nor the objects of desire. Instead, it 'aims at correcting one’s own anxious grasping in order to free oneself for committed relationship to God.' According to Meister Eckhart, 'detachment enkindles the heart, awakens the spirit, stimulates our longings, and shows us where God is.' With an awakened heart, we turn and face the road ahead, knowing that no one can take the trip for us, nor can anyone plan our way." -John Eldridge

Revisiting Silence

2009-04-22T14:23:00.003-05:00

Entering into moments of silence is an incomparable benefit to my spirit. It’s amazing how often this truth eludes me, however. I let the pace of life swindle me of moments that could be spent in simple stillness. Any time that is unaccounted for is quickly allocated to meaningless, but often necessary tasks. But the silence beckons me when I neglect it for too long; it always has.
I found a few minutes to breathe in the crisp spring air early this morning with a cup of coffee. The silence immediately caused my spirit to awaken after lying dormant for a few days, causing silent prayer to rise from my heart like the morning mist over the field behind my house. Suddenly, I could inhale and exhale, long and slow, after days of quick, shallow breathes.

What instills in us this natural aversion to silence? Why do we often fear the quiet? I think it could have something to do with man’s fear of obscurity. Insignificance and anonymity have become some of the greatest worries of Western civilization. Most everyone feels, whether they admit it or not, that they have some great gift or trait that will one day surface and thrust them into the spotlight, and they’ll have to “humbly” accept the burden of their own fame. (Unfortunately, I think this is the unspoken dream of pastors and worship leaders across the country.) But Isaiah says that the result of righteousness is quietness and confidence (i.e. trust), not pride and popularity. If I am silent and still before God, I am not striving to be something other than myself. I’m forced to exist as I am in my true state; a servant to the Master. Moments spent in silence often strip us of our own narcissistic sense of self-importance and remind us that we are just a tiny granule in a very large and complex creation. May silence teach us, and give a renewed clarity to the voice of our Master.

The Sign of Jonah

2009-03-08T12:02:00.001-05:00

At 12:02 pm on March 8th, my life changed forever.

Welcome, my son...
I have so much to show you.

Of Fleeing Bishops and Apprehensive Shepherds

2009-03-05T11:31:00.003-06:00

It’s amazing how observant I’ve become of other fathers in the past few months. Occasionally, I’ve looked into the eyes of a passing father and seen his resolve, that intense tenacity that accompanies only the passionate. In that moment, I glimpse the immensity and significance of the task before me mirrored in his glance.

The blessing of fatherhood is perhaps only days away from me and much of the implications are still setting in. I’m so excited about the thousands of little blessings I will experience over the expanse of my child’s life. I often find myself daydreaming about the depth of love that I will instantaneously feel once this little life emerges. But the infant smiles and gentle touches also guarantee the arrival of a weighty assignment, dense with responsibility.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve felt God consistently give me the picture of a shepherd and its parallels to fatherhood. I am given earthly charge over this helpless little life while it walks on this earth. My reach and extent of influence is short; time is precious. Will I lead this little lamb to water? Do I possess the aptitude to navigate the rugged terrain (that I myself am still struggling to map) in order to find nourishment for the life I’ve been entrusted? I can’t help but feel somewhat unqualified.

If you study early church history, you’ll notice a curious trend arises as the church begins to extend and swell in size and influence. Quite often, bishops would lead their congregations until the day they died, providing the flock with endless service, dedication, and spiritual authority throughout their lifetime. When a new bishop was needed to replace one who had deceased, the congregants would seek out the most qualified individual, many times from the local monastery. Here’s where the peculiarity lies. When they would decide upon the man they felt God had appointed, they would go to him, notify him of the position of which he was called, and amazingly…. he would flee. The soon-to-be-bishop would frantically run away to avoid the assignment. Those in charge of notifying him would have to track him down, and in some cases, drag him to the election ceremony. Whether this attempt at escape was the result of a fear of leadership or a desire to remain anonymous in service, I’m not sure, but whatever the reason, it makes for a curious bit of church history.

There have been moments where I’ve felt that same striking emotion of the fleeing bishop, a prick of anxiety in my bones that comes only when I consider the weight of my role. Am I qualified to lead another? Can I, as a father, walk in a way worthy of imitation? Will I be able to recall the location of the life-giving streams of water that my little lamb will need?

One feature of streams that I find especially symbolic is the paradox of their static yet dynamic nature. The location of the stream itself is fixed; you can always rely on its position to remain constant. The water flowing through the stream, however, is always different. The cool refreshing water is available to drink, but you will never consume the same water twice. When a body of water is referred to as “living water” in God’s word, it literally denotes a movement, or flow like that of a river. It can be relied on to be fresh and clean because of its procession.

I think this is especially applicable to our lives. We have to remember that God is our source of life, though his blessings and provision will continually take different shapes. The location of our source, however, will always stay the same. If we expect his grace to take the exact same form today that it did five years ago, then we may find ourselves disappointed with the taste of the water we drink.

So it is with the provision of God. His nature is unchanging, but His way with us continually adjusts to evolve us into holy beings. His provision changes in order to change us. God “provides” a plant to shade Jonah, then “provides” a worm to eat the plant in order to uncover deeper truth. He deals with us in ways unexpected to expose our sin and reveal His heart.

Teach me, Oh God. Help me to fervently take hold of the task you’ve given. Give me a constant awareness of the deeper implications that each seemingly mundane moment holds. Help me to seek and be satisfied with the daily bread you provide to nourish and transform me. Lead me to streams of living water so that I may drink deeply, and teach my little lamb to do the same.

Love...

2009-02-14T10:37:00.000-06:00

I Love This Woman.

Emptying

2008-12-11T12:37:00.002-06:00

“God touches us with a touch that is emptiness and empties us. He moves us with a simplicity that simplifies us. All variety, all complexity, all paradox, all multiplicity cease. Our mind swarms in the air of an understanding, a reality that is dark and serene and includes in itself everything. Nothing more is desired. Nothing more is wanting.” – Thomas Merton

Dreams of Jonah

2008-11-25T13:00:00.003-06:00

I dreamt of you last night, my son.
You lay sleeping softly on my chest, utterly oblivious of your mysterious actions, unaware of your own subtlety. You unknowingly liberated me by your simple existence, freeing me from the chains of my selfishness.

You are, my little Jonah, the synthesis of love.
You are the emission that bears witness of love’s union and further initiates love’s unfolding.
You are the culmination of ocean and earth; the breaking wave that consummates their wedlock. The roar of their interaction resounds with your delicate movements, rhythmically echoing love’s aria. Their fervent melody reverberates in your infant voice. The ocean breathes you, the earth receives you, and El Roi is the blanketing expanse of stars overhead, emitting His radiant approval.

He’s glorified at your arrival.

Insight from Emerson

2008-11-21T11:09:00.006-06:00

"Music takes us out of the actual and whispers to us dim secrets that startle our wonder as to who we are, and for what, whence, and whereto."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Journeying into the depths of the Psalter

2008-11-20T16:56:00.002-06:00

Perhaps one of the most beautiful and refreshing things about the Psalms is that the spirit of apathy is nowhere to be found. In it contains the full gamut of human emotion, from the extreme frustration of a soul amidst catastrophe in question of the very character of God, to the broken spirit of the sinful man begging against the abandonment of the Spirit’s presence, to the psalmist wading in the goodness of the Almighty with the very taste of God in his mouth. And apathy is nowhere to be found. There’s such an awareness of God, even when questions are all that can escape the lips of the psalmist. You can sense God ready to break through, even in the midst of the doubt. God give us the same raw awareness of you…

Truth Christening

2008-11-18T10:32:00.003-06:00

The search for truth consumes me. Its veracity beckons me through the darkness of silent, empty streets. I’m summoned towards the unknown, but gently calmed by a recognizable Comfort, that “Notorious Illuminator”, as Merton once whispered. I loiter momentarily in front of the shadowy windows that bear witness to the credos of my past. They murmur of past instruction, but only induce me further into the mysteries that wait ahead. Truth invites the vagrant.

I know the veil that hides the secrets; the darkness that waits to envelop, like Abraham’s dream. A whisper that cuts through the silence, uttering the inexpressible phrases only my heart can decipher. My attention is gathered. My surrender is secured.

“I AM” is spoken.

Shelter

2008-10-19T23:30:00.011-05:00

We got to see Ray LaMontagne tonight at the Ryman.
An amazing show by one of my favorite songwriters...

Jonah seemed to be really active during the song "Shelter".

Maybe he already comprehends the beautiful union that our little family shares.

"Listen when,

All of this around us'll fall over,

I tell you what we're gonna do,

You will shelter me, my love,

I will shelter you."

Jonah Elliot Willis

2008-10-09T15:49:00.000-05:00

For I will pour water on the thirsty land,

and streams on the dry ground;

I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring,

and my blessing on your descendants.

Isaiah 44:3

Yearning

2008-10-03T10:09:00.000-05:00

“If you want to build a ship, don't herd people to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work. Instead, teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Response...

2008-10-02T17:17:00.000-05:00

Your patience, my love, has astounded me as I struggle to enter into the abiding rest that God offers. Your words consistently breathe calm into lungs so prone to panic gasps. I feel summoned to an existence of deep and unwavering peace, but it seems to be a realm that hasn’t granted an easy admittance. Though the deepest utterance of my spirit reiterates that the will of God is to be trusted, I don’t easily settle into these periods of such vague and formless unrest. The swelling and ebbing flow of shadows causes my instincts to initiate a frenzied search for escape, rather than settling into a resolved and patient peace. But I sense His promise to wake within me, even in the reverberating hours of darkness. Though it doesn’t immediately discharge me from my environment, it helps my eyes readjust to their surroundings.
This is where liberation lies, not in the escape, but in the awakening.

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Psalm 130:5-6

“And it is the deepest darkness that we most fully possess God on earth; because it is then that our minds are most truly liberated from the weak, created lights that are darkness in comparison to Him; it is then that we are filled with His infinite Light which seems pure darkness to our reason. In this greatest perfection of our faith the infinite God Himself becomes the Light of the darkened soul and possesses it entirely with His Truth. And at this inexplicable moment the deepest night becomes day and faith turns into understanding.”
– Merton

Poised to Receive

2008-09-25T14:37:00.000-05:00

You broke through again.

Despite my best efforts, piercing my heaviest armor, You broke through. The shining visage of the Blameless engulfing the space around us, Your movement reviving our ashes, stirring the embers to a radiant glow. And we stood disarmed, defenseless, poised to receive.Your Spirit responded in waves of mercy, enveloping, restoring, renewing. The train of Your robe pervading the temple of our hearts.

Our deliverer is relentless. I can feel Him reverberate through the walls I’ve constructed. I can feel Him tearing towards us, restoring all that's been corrupted by our wastefulness and diluted by our apathy.

Freedom's melody grows slowly louder. I can hear its echo intensifying inside my spirit, shaking me into awareness. The voice of the Rescuer pierces me as my mind and memory are suddenly caught in recognition and recollection of His Spirit’s whispers. I know the voice; I remember the touch.

Passion is kindled. Ardor is awakened.

Echoes

2008-09-25T09:47:00.000-05:00

You don’t experience a willing vulnerability very often. Jes, my brothers and I went to the Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova show last night at the Ryman. The show was fantastic, but I was absolutely overwhelmed by the opening song. The lights went low and Glen Hansard came out onto the stage. He stepped to the very edge, guitar unplugged, his voice completely unassisted by technology, and started into “Say it to me now.” I’ve never heard a crowd at the Ryman more hushed. He sang defenseless; completely vulnerable. In a city of manufactured celebrities, it was something so raw and beautiful that will haunt me for weeks to come. Absolutely beautiful…

The Mystery of Self Abandonment

2008-07-01T04:04:00.000-05:00

I just finished Jean-Pierre De Caussade's "Abandonment to Divine Providence" and realized that it has taken me about twice as long to finish as most books I read; I'm not really sure why. I have absolutely adored this book. Its very words whisper to me, drawing me into a desire for deeper places of holiness and a reckless abandonment to God's divine intention. This little book offers in its pages a treasure that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
It's just taken me forever to finish the stupid thing.
I think most likely the reason is the weightiness of the topic itself. I've been struggling over this subject matter so much in the past few months. It's not that I disagree with what de Caussade is saying. My spirit, in fact, stands in complete agreement with almost every bit of wisdom the author offers throughout the book. It's just been a difficult platform to adopt. He deals with the Divine will in a way that seems remarkably simplistic. I don't disagree with his viewpoints, I just haven't been able to fully and effortlessly abandon myself to them as of yet. God knows I want to.
Throughout the book, the overall echoing theme is that we, as Christians, should take hold of each moment, each choice before us, and view it as God's primary method of sanctifying us. In every second, God is placing us in situations that are meant to slowly transform us into holy beings. At one point he states that we should "embrace the present moment as an ever-flowing source of Holiness."
This, to me, has been a profound revelation. This means that God's will is a process instigated by the Divine and not something I have to restlessly seek after, always worried I'm missing something better. This is water for my perpetually thirsty soul. The problem for me seems to lie somewhere in the midst of the faithlessness that so often seems to define me and the anxiety that most often seems to plague me. Fear and faith make difficult companions. I am a worrier. I would love to define it as something innocent or as a simple vice, but the plain truth is, worry is the polar opposite of faith. And this anxiety seems to regularly obstruct the act of pure faith in God's will. I waver from being completely confident in the sovereignty and plans of God, to completely and hopelessly abandoned to my anxiety over my future. I am the man who is "like a wave that's driven and tossed by the wind" that the writer James speaks of in his letter. The least bit of discomfort, whether in mind or body, seems to easily shake me to my foundation.
But God's purpose is not to make me comfortable. The will of God is not meant for me to decipher the code, connect the dots, and as a result have a great testimony of exactly how God is working around me. This comes at times, don't get me wrong. Many faithful Christians quite often have the eyes to see and the mind to understand some of the plans and intentions of God. But God's purpose is to make us holy, whether we understand His means or not. Even if all our lives we are completely ignorant of exactly how his fingertips crafted us precisely, day by day, into holy beings, all will be revealed in the end. De Caussade states that "God is the center of faith, and faith is a gulf of shadows, and these shadows emerge and veil all the divine operations."
But we come from a generation no longer wanting to be "side-tracked" by the chase for holiness. If anything, I've seen most seek after the opposite, claiming the struggle for holiness as a subject far too "religious" for us to pursue.
I realize that I am among a growing minority that still view the Christian disciplines as a way to express my love towards a holy God. "Be holy, as I am holy." But suddenly the methods and practices of Christians for two thousand years before us now are now being labeled as too religious or old fashioned. This is deeply saddening to me.
I recently attended a church that doesn't put emphasis on the development of disciples, but concentrates solely on the pursuit of those who don't know Christ. I realize that this is the Great Commission and I won't for a second accuse this objective as being something unworthy. But I do wonder what happens to many who are "won" (a strange term in itself) for Christ after the initial meeting, if left to their own devices, without any emphasis on further growth. The desire for holiness within the church, sadly, seems to be waning.
I'm seeing that God seems to reveal His purpose in a way that both extends and expands our faith. Many times, God seems to veil His plan/purpose just to the point where we give out, lose faith, and delve into an abyss of doubt and confusion. Often, this seems to be his method of elongating an inelastic faith. We have to cling to God's will not just as the divine dance that we should try to emulate, but as the primary technique the artist uses to mold us, moment by moment, into something beautiful…and holy.
I'm more restless in this moment than I've ever been before. I feel strangely discontent with my present state yet inexplicably confident in the Divine Will. I pray for a deeper thirst to fuel passion in the places where passion has grown despondent. I pray for a deeper sense of urgency for my continual abandonment to His intentions for this moment I live and move across this trackless wilderness, waiting for one more glimpse of the path ahead of me, even if that glimpse is only momentary.
"Holiness is produced in us by the will of God and our acceptance of it. It is not produced by intellectual speculation about it. If we are thirsty we must have a drink and not worry about books which explain what thirst is...We must put all speculation aside and, with childlike willingness, accept all that God presents to us. What God arranges for us to experience at each moment is the best and holiest thing that could happen to us…It is a divine warmth from heaven and gives us a ceaseless increase of grace. It is the kingdom of heaven which penetrates the soul. It is the bread of angels which is eaten on earth as well as in heaven. There is nothing trivial about our passing moments, as they enclose the whole kingdom of holiness and the food on which angels feed."
- Jean-Pierre de Caussade