Revival.
The word came to me on the bus ride to work. It's one that I have not pondered much in this current season. I wrote it down when I got to work.
As a child, my family was a part of communities that emphasized and longed for revival. When we attended a charismatic church, we went to revival meetings filled with signs of the Holy Spirit. At Yale, we prayed for revival.
Ever since moving to Boston, though, I have been in more of a Lenten mode of seeing Ashes everywhere in the Evangelical world and of wanting to see many parts of Christendom burn to the ground. "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."
So I was rather surprised to have revival put back on my heart. But it is a rather hopeful thing to look towards.
Another thought I had today, which I find significant: "If I make to the end of my life on earth and have accomplished nothing noteworthy except that I was simply a good friend of God's, then that's good enough for me."
Lent is producing some fruitful thought patterns already--I can feel it.
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Reflection 1: vaLENTines Day
Ash Wednesday falls on Valentine's Day this year.
I saw a picture on facebook, posted by a former professor. It was ashes sprinkled into the shape of a heart. Quite fitting--love and loss often go hand in hand.
My grandmother died on Valentine's Day, 3 years ago. I thought of her today, and of the generations of women in my family. The common theme seems to be that none of them seemed to have been happily married. My grandmother, in particular, had a husband who was unfaithful--they finally divorced later in life.
My Lyft driver told me she was a single mother working 3 jobs to support herself and her 6-year-old son. "Today, I'm gonna treat myself honey," she said. "That's what we single ladies do!"
I've decided not to give anything up for Lent this year. Instead, I am seeking to enrich my life with life-giving practices and thought patterns. And as I treat myself lovingly, I may find, along the way, that things that I should be giving up fall by the wayside on their own.
I saw a picture on facebook, posted by a former professor. It was ashes sprinkled into the shape of a heart. Quite fitting--love and loss often go hand in hand.
My grandmother died on Valentine's Day, 3 years ago. I thought of her today, and of the generations of women in my family. The common theme seems to be that none of them seemed to have been happily married. My grandmother, in particular, had a husband who was unfaithful--they finally divorced later in life.
My Lyft driver told me she was a single mother working 3 jobs to support herself and her 6-year-old son. "Today, I'm gonna treat myself honey," she said. "That's what we single ladies do!"
I've decided not to give anything up for Lent this year. Instead, I am seeking to enrich my life with life-giving practices and thought patterns. And as I treat myself lovingly, I may find, along the way, that things that I should be giving up fall by the wayside on their own.
Sunday, February 11, 2018
Life Sentence
In my vocational spiritual direction, one of the assignments was to come up with a life sentence.
In any previous season of life, this would not have been difficult. I've been writing mission statements for myself ever since I was a kid.
But in this particular time, I have felt unmoored from many of the anchors to which I was tethered. I have felt attacked and beaten down by society and ideology and much of what prevails in theology.
Three weeks after the session in which I was to discuss my ideas, I have begun to dream again, and to think more purposefully about my passions.
I am (and have for a long time been)
drawn to engaging deeply with individuals (seeking answers, help, and healing)
who have been hurt (emotionally, spiritually, mentally, or physically)
by church (aspects of Evangelical and Fundamentalist culture that detract from the Gospel preached and lived by Jesus)
and the Christian religion (theology that quenches or obstructs the ongoing revelation of God's Spirit)
This includes individuals who have been shunned by church communities, who have been abused by those in spiritual authority, whose doctrinal beliefs have prevented them from achieving their full potential as people, and even those who had positions of leadership and lost their integrity or faith by having undue expectations put upon them.
I seek to do this through intentional relationships that include:
-verbal sessions of conversation and prayer
-organic and fun gatherings of misfits and the "motley crew"
-writings that engage larger ideas and issues and reach wider audiences
Jesus came to heal and to set the captives free. As the body of Christ, we are to partner with God's Spirit to share this Gospel with the world, starting in Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth.
In any previous season of life, this would not have been difficult. I've been writing mission statements for myself ever since I was a kid.
But in this particular time, I have felt unmoored from many of the anchors to which I was tethered. I have felt attacked and beaten down by society and ideology and much of what prevails in theology.
Three weeks after the session in which I was to discuss my ideas, I have begun to dream again, and to think more purposefully about my passions.
I am (and have for a long time been)
drawn to engaging deeply with individuals (seeking answers, help, and healing)
who have been hurt (emotionally, spiritually, mentally, or physically)
by church (aspects of Evangelical and Fundamentalist culture that detract from the Gospel preached and lived by Jesus)
and the Christian religion (theology that quenches or obstructs the ongoing revelation of God's Spirit)
This includes individuals who have been shunned by church communities, who have been abused by those in spiritual authority, whose doctrinal beliefs have prevented them from achieving their full potential as people, and even those who had positions of leadership and lost their integrity or faith by having undue expectations put upon them.
I seek to do this through intentional relationships that include:
-verbal sessions of conversation and prayer
-organic and fun gatherings of misfits and the "motley crew"
-writings that engage larger ideas and issues and reach wider audiences
Jesus came to heal and to set the captives free. As the body of Christ, we are to partner with God's Spirit to share this Gospel with the world, starting in Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth.
Building God's House of Worship
I have been reading in Exodus about the instructions for building the Tabernacle. Each household was to contribute what they felt stirred to in their hearts, and what they contributed--fine linen, gold, etc.--would be used in the building of God's house of worship.
This relates to my previous post about worship being a participatory act. It is not about showing up to sing along to a contemporary band and then listening to a pastor (usually a man, and therefore not at all representative of half-or-more of the congregation) who (often) likes to listen to the sound of their own voice and ideas.
Yes, there are appointed leaders who are responsible for guiding God's people. Moses was invited into private audience with God and to receive the 10 Commandments. In fact, he reflected God's glory to such a dazzling extent that he had to wear a veil over his face when he returned to the camp where the rest of the Israelites were. Clearly, there is a dimension of his spiritual experience that cannot be fully shared with the "rest of them"--the congregation.
But God still wants God's people to participate in worship, and to bring the best of what they have. Isn't that always what the invitation has been?
This relates to my previous post about worship being a participatory act. It is not about showing up to sing along to a contemporary band and then listening to a pastor (usually a man, and therefore not at all representative of half-or-more of the congregation) who (often) likes to listen to the sound of their own voice and ideas.
Yes, there are appointed leaders who are responsible for guiding God's people. Moses was invited into private audience with God and to receive the 10 Commandments. In fact, he reflected God's glory to such a dazzling extent that he had to wear a veil over his face when he returned to the camp where the rest of the Israelites were. Clearly, there is a dimension of his spiritual experience that cannot be fully shared with the "rest of them"--the congregation.
But God still wants God's people to participate in worship, and to bring the best of what they have. Isn't that always what the invitation has been?
The Work of the People
Liturgy.
It's a word I didn't hear much about until Divinity School, when I rubbed shoulders with the more "high church" traditions. In the Evangelical world, church was called "worship"--and anything other than rock-band-style music followed by a lecture-like talk was scoffed at as being "ritual." As if ritual is a bad thing.
Liturgy has been defined many ways, but the one I remember most is: the work of the people.
This means that we participate in worship. It is reflected in services where there are times people stand up to read, sit down to listen, stand up to play, and have a call-and-response interaction with the person delivering the "sermon."
Sermons in high church settings are much more compact--14 minutes versus 40 minutes. One gets the feeling that the sermon is not the main part of the service--whereas in Evangelical settings, one can stroll into "worship" late, as long as you don't miss the sermon. But in a one-hour, high-church liturgical service, I want to be on time, because I have a part to play, and the whole thing is one experience that I don't want to miss.
Liturgy is a beautiful thing. It is the work of the people in response to God's work, and I want to participate with my body, soul, and heart.
Amen.
It's a word I didn't hear much about until Divinity School, when I rubbed shoulders with the more "high church" traditions. In the Evangelical world, church was called "worship"--and anything other than rock-band-style music followed by a lecture-like talk was scoffed at as being "ritual." As if ritual is a bad thing.
Liturgy has been defined many ways, but the one I remember most is: the work of the people.
This means that we participate in worship. It is reflected in services where there are times people stand up to read, sit down to listen, stand up to play, and have a call-and-response interaction with the person delivering the "sermon."
Sermons in high church settings are much more compact--14 minutes versus 40 minutes. One gets the feeling that the sermon is not the main part of the service--whereas in Evangelical settings, one can stroll into "worship" late, as long as you don't miss the sermon. But in a one-hour, high-church liturgical service, I want to be on time, because I have a part to play, and the whole thing is one experience that I don't want to miss.
Liturgy is a beautiful thing. It is the work of the people in response to God's work, and I want to participate with my body, soul, and heart.
Amen.
Saturday, February 10, 2018
When "Do Your Job" Isn't Enough
So I'm still glowing a bit from the Patriots' defeat against the Eagles.
The Patriots have a motto: "Do your job." They are not wrong in this. Doing what's required of you and what you've been trained for is important. It accounts for all of their previous Superbowl titles.
Tom Brady has a very disciplined lifestyle and diet, and that's why he's still playing football at 40.
The Eagles, on the other hand, are a bit of a wreck. They went through a lot to get to being champions this year. They were open about it. And they celebrated shamelessly.
My co-workers read about all the riotous celebrations in Philly--the greasing of poles, the overturning of cars--and said, like typical New England snobs: "We don't do that here."
It's true--we don't. Here, we do our jobs. We do not make promises that we do not keep, and we do not flake out on commitments we have made. I moved up here for a job, and here, we get it done.
But sometimes in life, "Do your job" simply isn't enough. Sometimes, it's about the messiness of passion, and the rollercoaster of emotions and creativity that help us defeat the winning team--the status quo, if you will. The Eagles played their hearts out, and their fans erupted uncontrollably. Isn't it important, sometimes, to let go of control?
I struggle sometimes between being disciplined and orderly and being passionate and spontaneous. This is what I conclude today: do your job, to the best of your ability. And when it's not enough to do your job, let destiny and the Divine help you get to places beyond your wildest dreams. It happens, and it's the best feeling in the world!
The Patriots have a motto: "Do your job." They are not wrong in this. Doing what's required of you and what you've been trained for is important. It accounts for all of their previous Superbowl titles.
Tom Brady has a very disciplined lifestyle and diet, and that's why he's still playing football at 40.
The Eagles, on the other hand, are a bit of a wreck. They went through a lot to get to being champions this year. They were open about it. And they celebrated shamelessly.
My co-workers read about all the riotous celebrations in Philly--the greasing of poles, the overturning of cars--and said, like typical New England snobs: "We don't do that here."
It's true--we don't. Here, we do our jobs. We do not make promises that we do not keep, and we do not flake out on commitments we have made. I moved up here for a job, and here, we get it done.
But sometimes in life, "Do your job" simply isn't enough. Sometimes, it's about the messiness of passion, and the rollercoaster of emotions and creativity that help us defeat the winning team--the status quo, if you will. The Eagles played their hearts out, and their fans erupted uncontrollably. Isn't it important, sometimes, to let go of control?
I struggle sometimes between being disciplined and orderly and being passionate and spontaneous. This is what I conclude today: do your job, to the best of your ability. And when it's not enough to do your job, let destiny and the Divine help you get to places beyond your wildest dreams. It happens, and it's the best feeling in the world!
Sunday, February 4, 2018
Chemistry
I am realizing that I have really good chemistry with my girlfriends who are bisexual.
There is something incredibly open and intuitive about women who understand attraction on many levels and with many people. Perhaps this fits with my polyamorous bent--it means that we are compatible as friends in our sexual orientations. By this, I do not mean simply gay or straight, but I mean an awareness of and comfortability in our sexual capacity.
By sexual capacity, I do not necessarily mean sexual behavior. I am referring to a spiritual sense of being that extends to our understanding of our own sexuality and that of others. It is, simply put, an embrace of others that happens on a human and emotional level. It means a comfortability in our embodied presence--and this translates to very warm displays of physical affection that do not at all have to be sexual.
Visiting New Haven this weekend reminded me of all the beautiful souls that I mingled with in Divinity School. People in the "real world" are more stiff and reserved. I often feel a sense of tension when operating in that mode. I yearn for a deeper connection that is fluid and transcends discrete interactions. YDS was a place that embraced "all the feels." I miss it.
I spent the day with a dear friend who was also visiting New Haven. We have not seen each other since May of 2016, but we melted into a warm embrace as soon as I walked in the door of Atticus, a bookstore Cafe downtown. People stopped their conversations to look at us with curious but approving eyes, but we continued our long hug. That is the power of an embodied emotional connection.
We caught up over breakfast, holding hands at times and gazing into each other's eyes. For those living in a binary mentality of platonic versus romantic, our behavior might be confusing. But love is love is love is love--and that means that when you love someone, you enjoy them are the beautiful soul that they are, and they are not the object of selfish desire or careful distance. You simply enjoy being together--on emotional, spiritual, and physical levels.
We went hiking up East Rock after breakfast, talking the whole way and sharing about things both painful and delightful. We sat on a bench by Mill River and prayed. I felt the Spirit move several times during the course of our time together--I get chills whenever God feels near. We had lunch at a friend's house, and then I took her to the train station. We parted ways not knowing when we'd see each other next--but confident in the power of staying in touch.
She went 2 hours south to New York city, and I drove the opposite direction, back to Boston.
I had a memorable day, and it tops even the best romantic date I've been on.
There is something incredibly open and intuitive about women who understand attraction on many levels and with many people. Perhaps this fits with my polyamorous bent--it means that we are compatible as friends in our sexual orientations. By this, I do not mean simply gay or straight, but I mean an awareness of and comfortability in our sexual capacity.
By sexual capacity, I do not necessarily mean sexual behavior. I am referring to a spiritual sense of being that extends to our understanding of our own sexuality and that of others. It is, simply put, an embrace of others that happens on a human and emotional level. It means a comfortability in our embodied presence--and this translates to very warm displays of physical affection that do not at all have to be sexual.
Visiting New Haven this weekend reminded me of all the beautiful souls that I mingled with in Divinity School. People in the "real world" are more stiff and reserved. I often feel a sense of tension when operating in that mode. I yearn for a deeper connection that is fluid and transcends discrete interactions. YDS was a place that embraced "all the feels." I miss it.
I spent the day with a dear friend who was also visiting New Haven. We have not seen each other since May of 2016, but we melted into a warm embrace as soon as I walked in the door of Atticus, a bookstore Cafe downtown. People stopped their conversations to look at us with curious but approving eyes, but we continued our long hug. That is the power of an embodied emotional connection.
We caught up over breakfast, holding hands at times and gazing into each other's eyes. For those living in a binary mentality of platonic versus romantic, our behavior might be confusing. But love is love is love is love--and that means that when you love someone, you enjoy them are the beautiful soul that they are, and they are not the object of selfish desire or careful distance. You simply enjoy being together--on emotional, spiritual, and physical levels.
We went hiking up East Rock after breakfast, talking the whole way and sharing about things both painful and delightful. We sat on a bench by Mill River and prayed. I felt the Spirit move several times during the course of our time together--I get chills whenever God feels near. We had lunch at a friend's house, and then I took her to the train station. We parted ways not knowing when we'd see each other next--but confident in the power of staying in touch.
She went 2 hours south to New York city, and I drove the opposite direction, back to Boston.
I had a memorable day, and it tops even the best romantic date I've been on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)