Messy Christian is hosting a prayer room for the Asian tsunami.
Advent - The Door To Humanity
28 December, 2004 at 11:25 pm (General)
Tags: Reading
I came across this in The Book of Jesus, edited by Calvin Miller (Simon & Schuster, 1996). It’s by Walter Wangerin, and it first appeared in Ragman and Other Cries of Faith (HarperCollins, 1984).
(Miller introduces the excerpt thusly:
In this imaginary soliloquy God is reasoning how to make mary his friend and consort in bringing to pass the conception of Jesus Christ. It is a tender summons to a mortal to spend her fears in that submission by which human redemption will become possible.)
I love a child.
But she is afraid of me.
I want to help this child, so terribly in need of help. For she is hungry; her cheeks are sunken to the bone; but she knows little of food, less of nutrition. I know both of these things. She is cold, and she is dirty; she lives at the end of a tattered hallway, three flights up in a tenement whose landlord long forgot the human bodies huddled in that place. But I know how to build a fire; and I know how to wash a face.
She is retarded, if the truth be told, thick in her tongue, slow in her mind, yet aware of her infirmity and embarrassed by it. But here am I, well-traveled throughout the universe, and wise, and willing to share my wisdom.
She is lonely all the day long. She sits in a chair with her back to the door, her knees tucked tight against her breasts, her arms around these, her head down. And I can see how her hair hangs to her ankles; but I cannot see her face. She’s hiding. If I could but see her face and kiss it, why I could draw the loneliness out of her.
She sings a sort of song to pass the time, a childish melody, though she is a woman in her body by its shape, a swelling at her belly. She sings, “Puss, puss.” I know the truth, that she is singing of no cat at all, but of her face, sadly, calling it ugly. And I know the truth, that she is right. But I am mightily persuasive myself, and I could make it lovely by my love alone.
I love the child.
But she is afraid of me.
The how can I come to her, to feed and to heal her by my love?
Knock on the door? Enter the common way?
No. She holds her breath at a gentle tap, pretending that she is not home; she feels unworthy of polite society. And loud, imperious bangings would only send her into shivering tears, for police and bill collectors have troubled her in the past.
And should I break down the door? Or should I show my face at the window? Oh, what terrors I’d cause then. These have happened before. She’s suffered the rapings of kindless men, and therefore she hangs her head, and therefore she sings, “Puss.”
I am none of these, to be sure. But if I came the way that they have come, she would not know me different. She would not receive my love, but might likely die of a failed heart.
i’ve called from the hall. I’ve sung her name through cracks in the plaster. But I have a bright trumpet of a voice, and she covers her ears and weeps. She thinks each word an accusation.
I could, of course, ignore the doors and walls and windows, simply appearing before her as I am. I have that capability. But she hasn’t the strength to see it and would die. She is, you see, her own deepest hiding place, and fear and death are the truest doors against me.
Then what is left? How can I come to my beloved? Where’s the entrance that will not frighten nor kill her? By what door can love arrive after all; truly to nurture her, to take the loneliness away, to make her beautiful, as lovely as my moon at night, my sun come morning?
I know what I will do.
I’ll make the woman herself my door–and by her body enter in her life.
Ah, I like that. I like that. However could she be afraid of her own flesh, of something lowly underneath her ribs?
I’ll be the baby waking in her womb. Hush: she’ll have the time, this way, to know my coming first before I come. Hush: time to get ready, to touch her tummy, touching the promise alone, as it were. When she hangs her head, she shall be looking at me, thinking of me, loving me while I gather in the deepest place of her being. It is an excellent plan! Hush.
And then, when I come, my voice shall be so dear to her. It shall call the tenderness out of her soul and loveliness into her face. And when I take milk at her breast, she’ll sigh and sing another song, a sweet Magnificat, for she shall feel important then, and worthy, seeing that another life depends on hers. My need shall make her rich!
Then what of her loneliness? Gone. Gone in the bond between us, though I shall not have said a word yet. And for my sake she shall wash her face, for she shall have a reason then.
And the sins that she suffered, the hurts at the hands of men, shall be transfigured by my being: I make good come out of evil; I am the good come out of evil.
Blogging from Knoxville
28 December, 2004 at 11:16 pm (General)
Just sitting in a Hampton Inn blogging on the way back from Christmas at my parents. It’s only a ten hour drive (plus stops, which have multiplied exponentially with my children), but we’ve chosen to break it up largely due to the aforementioned children.
Caught up on my RSS feeds, and felt my stomach drop at the news from Asia. God have mercy.
We left for south Georgia last Thursday evening. Dayton was hit by a 12+ inches of snow the previous night, so it took about five hours of shoveling to get on the road. The streets on our neighborhood are among the last to be shoveled, and the ally is never touched. In order to get the car out of the garage (off the ally) I had to shovel the entire ally. Fortunately we are the second house from the end of the block. Anyway, we hit the road about six, spent two hours sitting in Cincinnati traffic, (They should really consider plowing I-75 thru town.) and finally stopped an hour north of the Tennessee border. We finished the drive on Christmas Eve, and now we’re redoing it.
Hope Christmas was good for all. God’s Grace in the new year. It’s a little belated, (I wasn’t sure if Steve was going to use it for his Advent Blog.) but I want to share it anyway.
Harvest - Sermon: Never Lose Sight of the Kingdom
15 December, 2004 at 5:43 pm (General)
Tags: Harvest, Thinking
I preached my last sermon at Harvest Sunday. One more week, and then our doors close for good. Here were my final words:
Today begins the Third Week of Advent. Christmas Day is less than two weeks away. The signs are all around us. This is the season in which we remember the coming of the Christ Child. It is the time of year when we anticipate the return of Christ the King. And for us, it is a time to anticipate the next step, life after Harvest.
One day, in the desert on the Judean border, a man shouted to the crowds: “Repent for the Kingdom of God is near!” With those words, John the Baptist announced the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.
Thirty years earlier on the edge of a small village in the Judean backwater, a pregnant girl cried out in pain: “The Kingdom of God is near!” It’s due date has arrived!
In Christ, God became flesh. The Invisible became visible. On a lonely night among the noise of farm animals and the labour pains of a young woman, a baby’s cry announced the arrival of the Kingdom of Heaven. Though scarcely noticed when it happened - the birth was attended only by a few shepherds and foreigners - history was forever changed that night. The Kingdom of God had arrived.
To His followers Jesus said, “The Kingdom of God is in you.” Just as the Kingdom took on flesh when Jesus was born, it takes on flesh again whenever people choose to live Jesus-brand lives. In and through faithful Christ-followers, the Kingdom expands. It pushes back darkness, and brings light and life to the world. The Kingdom of God has arrived. It is is here, and it continues to grow thru the lives of Kingdom-Bringers.
This is the last opportunity I have to preach at the Harvest. It may be the last time I have an opportunity to preach to each of you as well, for who knows where our lives will take us in the coming years. (Who knows when another church will be silly enough to let me stand behind the pulpit.) I’ve chosen my words carefully, because last impressions are often lasting impressions.
First let me say thank you.
Thank you, Harvest, for allowing me to learn and experiment and grow with you. I have changed more than I ever could have anticipated and in ways I never would have thought. I have attempted much in your midst, not all of which was successful, but all done in for the Kingdom. You have been gracious and kind, allowing me to train on the job. You have been honest. You have allowed me to ruffle your feathers from time to time, whether by technique or presentation or message. I hope you’ll allow me to do it once more.
In one week’s time, we will walk out the door for the last time. Many of you have already begun the process of looking for a new faith community. Some are returning to previous churches; some are checking out the larger, better known churches around town. Wherever you look, as you search let me urge you to do one thing.
Never lose sight of the Kingdom.
If I have any regret in my Christian life, it is this: I wish I had been introduced to the kind of radical, mission-focused, kingdom-centered life that we have pursued over these last five and half years.
These final weeks of Harvest have been particularly sad for me. Not only is there the sadness of changes and endings, there is something more. After five and a half years of searching - of gift inventories and conversations, of books and experiments, of false starts - after five and a half years I feel like I’m just getting my feet under me. I feel like I’m just getting clear on who I am and what God might be calling me to do.
Easter was a watershed for me, but now that the Harvest is closing its doors, my ready venue is gone. I fear that I will become lazy, that I will not do the work necessary to find a new venue, and that I will allow my gifts and passion to go wasted. And so I am sad. Regardless, this is the course, and so I - and so we must all figure out how to move into the next season of our lives.
As we do, we must not lose sight of the Kingdom, for the Kingdom of God is within.
A friend of mine from New Zealand wrote something that I’d like to share:
Christianity emerges from a wilderness spirituality;
John the Baptist, camel haired and with locust wings in mouth, emerges from the desert;
Jesus in preparation for ministry, walks into the wilderness;
Israel finds God in the desert, where in the wilderness Moses is called and a nation is shaped.
The rough places and tough spaces become the place of encounter with God.
These Harvest years have been difficult years. Our faith has been tested, and we have wrestled with God. We have served with passion. We have followed Him, not knowing where the next step lay. We have been excited; we have been disappointed. We have been in the wilderness…
And it has been awesome! Hard? Yes. Exhausting? Absolutely. Emotionally draining? Without a doubt. But we have encountered God. We have all met him and been changed by him. In following Him, we have helped to usher in the Kingdom of God.
The temptation foe each of us, is that we will leave Harvest and go some place comfortable. We will leave the wilderness of this place, a place where we have encountered God, and we will settle. Rather than following God day by day, step by step, as Israel did in the desert and as the Apostles did in the Galilean countryside; we will settle, we will find comfort and familiarity, and we will lose the Kingdom.
So I say it again. My challenge is this: Don’t lose sight of the Kingdom. No matter where you go from here, your life is meant to be lived out with one and only one purpose. You are to be a Kingdom-Bringer. You have been charged by God with the Gospel, the Good News that the Kingdom of God is here! It is here and it will change the world as long as you don’t lose sight of it.
Don’t lose sight of the Kingdom!
Here is why this is so important, why my last message to you centers on the Kingdom: Many, if not most, of the churches you will check out in the coming weeks and months will be places of comfort and not wilderness. They will be places where you can settle in and find a safe, steady rhythm. They will be places that remind you of places you’ve been in the past; they will sound familiar, look familiar, and smell familiar. And because of their familiarity and comfort, they will tempt you to forget the Kingdom.
Don’t lose sight of the Kingdom! A few weeks ago I said that the success or failure of Harvest will be determined by the extent that we remain Kingdom-Bringers. The Gospel, the Good News that The Kingdom of God is here and It can change the world, is only true to the extent that Christians - that you and I are willing to live for it, to usher it in, to rearrange our lives for it, to sacrifice our comfort and live in the wilderness where we encounter God, where we experience His Life, where we find ourselves dependent on Him and Him alone. This is not hyperbole: God’s Great and Glorious plan of Redemption can be rendered powerless, if Christians - if we settle for comfort and forget the Kingdom.
Don’t lose sight of the Kingdom.
Here’s where I might ruffle some feathers. I’ve thought about each of us and the ways we might be tempted to settle, to get comfortable; and I’ve tried to come up with ways to remain in the wilderness.
Some of us must be challenged politically. It will be easy to settle in to a community that thinks the same way we do. It will be easy to insulate ourselves from voices that dissent. Resist the temptation of political comfort, and step into the challenge of political wilderness. Remind yourself that true hope is not found in a political party of agenda, but in the Kingdom of God. Find voices that differ from yours, thoughtful voices that will challenge your politics. Be open to persuasion. Remember that there are sincere, Kingdom-Bringing Christians on both sides of the political aisle. Step into the challenge of political wilderness.
Some of us must be challenged economically. It will be easy to surround ourselves with people in the same social class. It will be easy to settle in to the pattern of comparing ourselves with the wealthy. Resist the temptation of economic comfort, and step into the challenge of economic wilderness. Find ways to be around the poor, not so you can pity them and not so you can feel more thankful about your own economic position; but rather so you can understand their struggle and so you can rearrange your own life to bring hope and justice. Reject the economy of self that hoards and looks inward. Instead, embrace the economy of gift that looks outward with abundant generosity. Step into the challenge of economic wilderness.
Some of us must be challenged geographically. We will be making decisions about where to live. We will make big decisions - what city or country - and little decisions, like what part of town or what neighborhood. And again, it will be easy to seek comfort, the comfortable house and the comfortable neighborhood. Resist the temptation of geographic comfort and step into the challenge of geographic wilderness. Find ways to bring the Kingdom into neighborhoods that need the sort of renewal and renovation only found in God, whether that means staying where you are or moving some place you’d never thought of. Step into the challenge of geographic wilderness.
Finally, some of us - no all of us must be challenged spiritually. We will be tempted to settle in to comfortable, familiar expressions of our faith. We will find safe theologies and wrap our hearts like warm quilts. Resist the temptation of spiritual comfort and step into the challenge of spiritual wilderness. Read book, listen to speakers, find voices that rub you the wrong way. Take a theological interpretation that you hold dear, and learn all you can from those who take the ideologically opposite position. Never stop listening to God. Grow to expect a measure of fear any time you follow Him, for without fear there can be courage, and without fear there is no need to depend on God. Keep moving. Keep following. Step into the challenge of spiritual wilderness.
Step into the wilderness, and encounter God. “The Kingdom of God is in you.” Don’t ever lose sight of the Kingdom!
Let me close with a prayer from my friend down under:
Wilderness God
Hidden in the deep valley
Obscured by rocky outcropThis Advent
May we be found in Your wilderness.
Free Books!
10 December, 2004 at 11:54 am (General)
Tags: Reading
This blogging this is starting to pay off! I’m on the phone with my wife (while I blog this) and UPS has just dropped off TWO FREE BOOKS from Zondervan! Merry Christmas to me!
(Thanks to Bob @ the Corner for inviting me into the Stumbling Toward Faith virtual book tour. I’m sure that’s how I got on their list.)
Effective Christian Education
2 December, 2004 at 9:05 am (General)
Tags: Reading
More good thoughts from The Heresy:
I believe that experiential learning and challenge is better yet than interactive learning. People grow closer, learn more, and change the most when they work together for a purpose that is greater than themselves.
