O Visionary – take heart!
The depth of your dark valley will only make
the mountain-top transfiguration
shine more brightly.
Arise, shine, your light is coming!
Indeed it has come,
yet not fully broken into your
closed eyes.
You are exactly where you are to meant to be.
Just because you do not in this moment hear the call—
does not mean the call is not there.
This dark night is part of it.
Dawn only comes when the night is darkest and most weary.
Come away with me, dear one…
Come away and rest with me.
Come away where you will hear my whispers
and where you can see the faint glow of vision
that you will paint into being.
O Visionary – take heart!
You have dwelt in the lands of practicality,
You have eaten the food of realism and common sense
for too long.
You are dying of hunger while gorging yourself!
Now is the time to feast on the stuff of dreams and imagination…
this is what makes your heart sing!
Come away with me and be made whole once again!
Walk the desert, sleep in the quiet shadows of solitude,
listen to the silence, taste the chill of the breeze,
dance among the stars.
I have so much to tell you!
So many secrets to share!
I am making a path for you, and it is almost ready.
My people are waiting for vision. They hunger as you hunger.
They pray for the manna to fall,
but their Visionary is dried up, clean cut off.
Come away, and find me again!
I have what you most seek.
I am waiting for you.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Glutton for guilt
Someone asked me recently what I thought the connection was between food and guilt. Wise question. My response: "are they different?"
My compulsion has always been food. The question was prompted because I had recently been to a social gathering where I didn't follow the food plan I had made for myself. It was a wonderful event, and as I looked back on it, I didn't feel guilty at all. I thought I should have. In my life guilt and food are usually intextricably linked.
I was propelled to consider the question: just what is guilt anyway? I spend a lot of my time trying to avoid it...or at least avoid the risk of incurring it. But, with my food--here I am looking for it when it's not there!
I decided that guilt is a kind of indicator of conscience--a little red flag waving to indicate that somehow I've missed the mark. I'm use to missing the mark with my food, so I was looking for it. It turns out: I actually was doing what I wanted to do. Wow. Go figure.
Guilt tells us that we haven't quite gotten to the truth yet. We've gotten a bit off the path, or maybe we've gone really astray. But, either way, hopefully, it can be a growth lesson. So, I concocted a little acronym. Guilt is: Growing Until I Learn Truth.
I like the concept of growing...learning something new...pursuing the truth in any given situation. I don't need to be afraid of a little guilt. I can learn from it. It helps to give some courage to take risks, to try things out, make mistakes, learn from it, and try and new path. I don't have to be a glutton for it...but a little can be useful.
My compulsion has always been food. The question was prompted because I had recently been to a social gathering where I didn't follow the food plan I had made for myself. It was a wonderful event, and as I looked back on it, I didn't feel guilty at all. I thought I should have. In my life guilt and food are usually intextricably linked.
I was propelled to consider the question: just what is guilt anyway? I spend a lot of my time trying to avoid it...or at least avoid the risk of incurring it. But, with my food--here I am looking for it when it's not there!
I decided that guilt is a kind of indicator of conscience--a little red flag waving to indicate that somehow I've missed the mark. I'm use to missing the mark with my food, so I was looking for it. It turns out: I actually was doing what I wanted to do. Wow. Go figure.
Guilt tells us that we haven't quite gotten to the truth yet. We've gotten a bit off the path, or maybe we've gone really astray. But, either way, hopefully, it can be a growth lesson. So, I concocted a little acronym. Guilt is: Growing Until I Learn Truth.
I like the concept of growing...learning something new...pursuing the truth in any given situation. I don't need to be afraid of a little guilt. I can learn from it. It helps to give some courage to take risks, to try things out, make mistakes, learn from it, and try and new path. I don't have to be a glutton for it...but a little can be useful.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Looking for the Oasis
In the desert, we can see where the water collects by looking for the trees. There may be a subterranean spring, but usually it's more likely that the rain water collects there on those rare rainy occasions. But, nevertheless, there's something there, some hidden or rare moisture enough to feed the foliage, to make it put down roots and grow, to offer shelter and sustenance to the other desert dwelling creatures.
A community of faith may be like that. There are obvious ones--housed in buildings that have a certain look to them. Or there are others that are harder to spot because they don't "look" like a church, you have to be guided by signs. They may be borrowing a space that blends in with the landscape...a storefront, a school. You might happen to visit one that looks like a church, but once you get inside...you wonder. Is there "water" here...really? Or, conversely, you may suddenly find yourselves in a circle of friends or acquaintances gathering at any random place, and suddenly you are overpowered with a sense of something sacred, something spiritual occurring, living water that you didn't expect.
My suspicion is that most of us are not looking so much for a "church," or a "church" experience...as we are looking for an oasis. As we sojourn through our lives, we are looking for a space that can offer some shade to rest, but also some source of living water, some spring, some cool collection of moisture that can quench our deep thirst for something that matters. We know it when we find it...but we also know, despite appearances, when we don't find it - when what we find rather is dry lifelessness.
We can keep looking for the oases in our lives. We need them. We need to find rest and acceptance. We need to feel refreshed and reconnected to what really matters in life. We need an oasis in our desert sojourns.
A community of faith may be like that. There are obvious ones--housed in buildings that have a certain look to them. Or there are others that are harder to spot because they don't "look" like a church, you have to be guided by signs. They may be borrowing a space that blends in with the landscape...a storefront, a school. You might happen to visit one that looks like a church, but once you get inside...you wonder. Is there "water" here...really? Or, conversely, you may suddenly find yourselves in a circle of friends or acquaintances gathering at any random place, and suddenly you are overpowered with a sense of something sacred, something spiritual occurring, living water that you didn't expect.
My suspicion is that most of us are not looking so much for a "church," or a "church" experience...as we are looking for an oasis. As we sojourn through our lives, we are looking for a space that can offer some shade to rest, but also some source of living water, some spring, some cool collection of moisture that can quench our deep thirst for something that matters. We know it when we find it...but we also know, despite appearances, when we don't find it - when what we find rather is dry lifelessness.
We can keep looking for the oases in our lives. We need them. We need to find rest and acceptance. We need to feel refreshed and reconnected to what really matters in life. We need an oasis in our desert sojourns.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The F-Words
Our community experienced a trauma this past week - someone shooting their way through an argument in a college computer lab. It's a piece of news that seems to appear too frequently these days, and shakes us to our core.
What does it mean for us to try to create safe communities and neighborhoods in a societal culture that is so addicted to fear and violence? Do we know how to argue with each other--experience conflict--without pulling out a gun and shooting?
They say human beings have three physiological responses to threat: FIGHT, FLIGHT, or FREEZE. The first is the epitome of strength, while the other two are usually seen as weakness. If we have guts, we turn and face the threat with teeth gritted and muscles readied (or guns drawn!) ready to fight. But, if we're weak and cowardly, we either turn and run the other direction, or we freeze like a deer in headlights waiting for our brain to kick in and tell us which of the other two options to take. Psychologists would tell us that there is no right or wrong, good or bad...all three are natural and programmed into us.
However, I suggest there is a fourth F-word that we could get a bit more proficient in when we encounter threat or conflict of some kind: FOCUS. Perhaps this response is best exemplified in the animal world by the maternal instinct of protecting one's offspring in times of threat and how apparently super-human feats of strength can result. When her child is threatened, suddenly a mother's strength, energy and ingenuity can become hyper-focused.
Most of the time, threats or conflicts that come into our lives are not life-threatening in the immediate moment. We need to be careful not to react to them as if they were. We can use the adrenaline to focus ourselves, let it teach us, push us to open ourselves to myriad of options we may have for response, open us to clarity, lift us to a higher understanding and perspective rather than a more desperate one. With FOCUS, conflict can open a doorway for us to become a better person--gaining greater skill, greater wisdom, deeper connections and more inner strength. We can allow the conflict to focus us more deeply on what our motivations, our expectations, our bedrock foundations, and our values are.
What does it mean for us to try to create safe communities and neighborhoods in a societal culture that is so addicted to fear and violence? Do we know how to argue with each other--experience conflict--without pulling out a gun and shooting?
They say human beings have three physiological responses to threat: FIGHT, FLIGHT, or FREEZE. The first is the epitome of strength, while the other two are usually seen as weakness. If we have guts, we turn and face the threat with teeth gritted and muscles readied (or guns drawn!) ready to fight. But, if we're weak and cowardly, we either turn and run the other direction, or we freeze like a deer in headlights waiting for our brain to kick in and tell us which of the other two options to take. Psychologists would tell us that there is no right or wrong, good or bad...all three are natural and programmed into us.
However, I suggest there is a fourth F-word that we could get a bit more proficient in when we encounter threat or conflict of some kind: FOCUS. Perhaps this response is best exemplified in the animal world by the maternal instinct of protecting one's offspring in times of threat and how apparently super-human feats of strength can result. When her child is threatened, suddenly a mother's strength, energy and ingenuity can become hyper-focused.
Most of the time, threats or conflicts that come into our lives are not life-threatening in the immediate moment. We need to be careful not to react to them as if they were. We can use the adrenaline to focus ourselves, let it teach us, push us to open ourselves to myriad of options we may have for response, open us to clarity, lift us to a higher understanding and perspective rather than a more desperate one. With FOCUS, conflict can open a doorway for us to become a better person--gaining greater skill, greater wisdom, deeper connections and more inner strength. We can allow the conflict to focus us more deeply on what our motivations, our expectations, our bedrock foundations, and our values are.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Creating Sacred Space
Today I'm considering creating sacred space. It's a calling for me these days. What does it mean for me in my life...for my small congregation in the middle of a busy city, on a noisy intersection, and be sacred space? I suspect it has to do with time, with relationships, with aesthetics, and grounding.
A space becomes sacred when somehow God's presence makes an appearance. Or...more likely...God's presence has always been there, but our eyes and hearts become open to recognize it.
I'm sitting here at my computer, hoping that this corner of cyber space that is my blog will become sacred space at least for a few moments for whoever might happen upon reading it. I watch and dream of our little historic church offering the engagement and enrichment of sacred space to those who happen upon us. I like to think, in both spaces, God might make an appearance. Both spaces require time from me and others, they embrace relationships, aesthetics of template and temple have been important, and both are grounded in themes and theology.
A space becomes sacred when somehow God's presence makes an appearance. Or...more likely...God's presence has always been there, but our eyes and hearts become open to recognize it.
I'm sitting here at my computer, hoping that this corner of cyber space that is my blog will become sacred space at least for a few moments for whoever might happen upon reading it. I watch and dream of our little historic church offering the engagement and enrichment of sacred space to those who happen upon us. I like to think, in both spaces, God might make an appearance. Both spaces require time from me and others, they embrace relationships, aesthetics of template and temple have been important, and both are grounded in themes and theology.
I'm enamored at the moment with an image from Celtic spirituality, written about by Margaret Silf, in a book called Spaces: Stations on a Celtic Way,(Brewster MA: Paraclete Press, 2001), of groves and springs. Groves of vegetation and springs are few and far between in this desert climate, though they are here, and called "oases" or just simply "washes." But there is something sacred about them...a clump of diverse trees, underbrush, sharing common ground that is fed by the life-giving water of a spring...or an occasional collection of runoff rain...or a hidden reservoir.
This type of sacred grove has long been a place of rest, rejuvination, and reconnection to weary travelers. Silf retells the story of the weary band of Hebrews wandering through their desert land, grumbling and complaining for many long years...yet continually finding God's surprising sustenance popping up here and there. I pray that our community might continue to be and become even more such a "sacred grove."
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Intentions
I believe that when God speaks...no, usually whispers...it's very much like living water in the desert.
We're at the start of our monsoon seasons here in Arizona, and during that time thunderstorms spring up out of nowhere; they disappear just as fast; they may rain down vital moisture - but the atmosphere is so dry the rain can't get to the ground...or it might come down in such fast and furious torrents that the rocky ground can't soak it in and it turns into flash floods. When God speaks to me, to any of us really, we may or may not be able to listen. We may be overwhelmed, flooded out...or we may stand with our heads turned skyward and tongues out wishing a few drops would survive the fall to the ground where we stand parched and waiting.
This blog will be an attempt to allow living water...as it flows to me...to flow out again. I hope it will be a voice in our desert experiences of life and faith. If nothing else, it will be a time for me to wait and watch and listen for God's living water and desert voice to speak so that my thirst may once again be quenched.
We're at the start of our monsoon seasons here in Arizona, and during that time thunderstorms spring up out of nowhere; they disappear just as fast; they may rain down vital moisture - but the atmosphere is so dry the rain can't get to the ground...or it might come down in such fast and furious torrents that the rocky ground can't soak it in and it turns into flash floods. When God speaks to me, to any of us really, we may or may not be able to listen. We may be overwhelmed, flooded out...or we may stand with our heads turned skyward and tongues out wishing a few drops would survive the fall to the ground where we stand parched and waiting.
This blog will be an attempt to allow living water...as it flows to me...to flow out again. I hope it will be a voice in our desert experiences of life and faith. If nothing else, it will be a time for me to wait and watch and listen for God's living water and desert voice to speak so that my thirst may once again be quenched.
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