Masks

I've been thinking about this "showing up" thing some more... about this whole idea of being fully present. What does that look like? How do we become fully present? Jeremy got me thinking down these lines with his comment.

Being fully present is a big thing... an important thing. And since it is so big and important maybe I should think about it more. Maybe I should try and figure out what it looks like. How do we become fully present?

Well, the first thing that seemed to come to mind about being fully present is about taking off the masks. After all, how can we be present anywhere if we are hiding behind something?

I guess it's about being real. And being real is a scary thing. We become vulnerable. We become raw. It's risky. That's why it's so much easier to keep the mask on.

I think church people are good at wearing masks. Church is a good place to come for masks.

Which is really messed up, because church should be the one place where you can go to and feel safe about taking off the mask and being real. Church should be a place where real people come and share their real struggles and their real victories... without feeling threatened, judged, or looked down on. Church, of all places, should be a mask free zone.

Anyway, back to being present. It just seems to me that taking off our mask is the first step in being fully present.

Showing Up

I'm pretty sure that most of us who follow Jesus, who call ourselves Christian, believe that God is everywhere... that God is present in all places at all times. I'm pretty sure we all understand that there is nowhere we can go to where God isn't already there waiting for us.

So, if we think that, if we really believe that, then why do we pray for God to show up? Why is it that sometimes--after a church service or a prayer meeting or a bible study--we say that "God showed up," and other times it seems like God's presence was nowhere to be seen--or more to the point: felt?

We rely pretty heavy on our feelings. Or at least it seems like we do when it come to spiritual issues. I wonder if sometimes we've made those feelings out to be idols. We start to chase after the feelings--the warm fuzzy God-feelings--instead of chasing after God. We begin to hunger and thirst for the experience rather than the one who gives the experience.

Anyway, I think sometimes when we say, "God showed up," what we really mean is that the feelings we experienced met with our expected understanding of what God showing up should feel like. Really, it has little to do with God showing up or not. After all, if God is everywhere at all times, God always shows up.

So... that makes me think. Maybe the problems has nothing to do with God showing up. Maybe what it really has to do with is whether or not we show up--I mean really show up, not just occupy space.

Showing up is hard. It requires sacrifice. To show up means we need to leave something behind. To show up means we need to set aside personal agendas, personal expectations, personal distractions. To show up means we need to be fully present.

Maybe that's one reason we miss God--not because God hasn't shown up, but because we have never become fully present to the God who is already here. Maybe we were looking for something different--a different feeling, a different expression of worship, a different... well to be blunt, a different idol.

Being fully present is about making a sacrifice. It's about sacrificing all those idols we tend to fashion out of the fragments of the world in which we live. It's about sacrificing our expectations in order to experience the God who is already present. It's about really showing up.

What would happen this Sunday if we all decided to show up? What would happen if every Sunday we came to worship with the attitude of being fully present for whatever God does in our midst? What would happen if we learned how to be fully present to a God who is always present for us?

I have a funny feeling we'd be saying, "Boy, God really showed up today."

Prayer by Grace

I'm reading Henri Nouwen's book Reaching Out. In one section he talks about prayer as a gift.

I like that.

It's easy to think of prayer as a discipline--something we do to make something happen. It's easy to think of prayer as part of our daily "to do" list--"read your bible and pray every day and grow, grow, grow." But when we reduce prayer to just that--a thing we do--prayer tends to become a very heavy burden. It becomes very difficult to sustain.

Maybe that's why, for most of us anyway, a consistent prayer life is difficult. It has become a duty... a chore. Even if it is something we love to do... even if it is something we desire with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength... when it is only a discipline we do, it become dry and sterile and ineffective.

But if we were to include the notion that prayer is a gift--it is "God's breathing in us, by which we become part of the intimacy of God's inner life" (Nouwen), all of a sudden prayer become liberating... life-giving... prayer becomes not only a means of grace, but grace itself.

We like to talk in terms of being saved by grace, not by works. Well, why not pray by grace, not by works? Prayer by grace would be prayer that is our response to God, not something we initiate. Prayer by grace would be we are entering in on what God is already about (and doing). Prayer by grace would be answering God, not simply telling God. Prayer by grace would be about surrender.

Labeling

Okay... guilty. I've done it. I admit it. I've bought one product over another simply because of the label. Whether it's because of a brand name identity, or because I just like the advertising better, I've done it.

But then again, who hasn't. After all, there's a sense in which we tend to identify ourselves by the brand we buy. Call it "Label Identity," or "Label Image." That's why we avoid certain generic products. They don't carry the same image.

Generic has a kind of bad name. Somehow, because the packaging is less flashy... because it lacks the advertising fire power... it's lower quality... it's inferior.

I remember when "generic" first came out. It was in the grocery store--plain white labels with plain black letters. Basic stuff.

Not so much anymore. Even generic has gone through an image over-haul. Even generic has falling prey to the labeling craze. Black and white doesn't sell.

Except for some. For some, black and white isn't about the color of the paper and the ink; it's about their opinion. It's about their understanding of what is and what isn't. It's about how they label their world. And the way they label their world is all about creating insiders and outsiders.

That's another thing about labeling--it build walls and causes division. You got the PC users over there and the Mac users over here. You got the Dodge guy and the Ford girl. Jews and gentiles. Democrats, Republicans. Liberals, Conservatives. Orthodox and...

Anyway, you get it. Labels have a way of causing problems. They can lead to division. They can make things artificially black and white.

Now, labels are good--when they are doing what they are supposed to. They identify what's on the inside of the packaging. But in our consumer driven, marketing powered, advertising rich culture, the label has become an end in itself. They have come to represent product superiority--brand arrogance.

Those of us who have labeled ourselves as followers of Jesus need to get beyond the micro-labeling that tends to cause division... that tends to create brand superiority... that tends to be exclusive and arrogant.

Maybe that's why the very first followers of Jesus were known simply as The Way. Simple, inclusive, basic label. Nothing flashy. Nothing fancy. Just The Way. It identified who they were and what they were about--following in the Way of Jesus. And isn't that what the Kingdom of God is supposed to be all about--following Jesus who is the way, the truth and the life.

Using God

You know, one of the things that really frustrates me is the miss-use of God to justify our actions and attitudes... the way God is used to validate personal opinions and fight individual battles. Oh, I'm not talking about Jihads or the Crusades or the Inquisition or anything as dramatic as that. I'm talking about the more subtle ways God is used and miss-used.

Sometimes I think those subtle ways are perhaps even more detestable to God. There's something about them that smacks of arrogance... of setting ourselves up as God's lone spokesperson... of making our opinion the one supreme authority all others must bow down to. There's something about it that just irks me... makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn.

Here's what I don't get. You've got one person--devote, sincere, passionate about following Jesus. And then you've got another person--just as devote, just as sincere, just as passionate. Both pray, both read the Bible, both go to church. Yet one of them seems to think that, somehow, they have the inside track on God. Somehow they think their opinion, their interpretation, their understanding, is "right" and everyone else who doesn't agree is wrong--or ever worse: is a heretic.

They justify themselves by saying, "I've prayed about this and God showed me."

No doubt they have (prayed that is).

But what if the other person has prayed also? What if the other person was equally assured by God? Does that mean God can't make up his mind? Or does it mean that perhaps the answer wasn't so clear? Or maybe one or both wasn't really listening. Maybe one or both went into prayer already set in what they expected to hear.

Here's what I'm wondering. How many times do we use God to express our own personal bias? How many times to we use God as a sort of all-powerful trump card--"Well God told me, so you must be wrong"? How many times do we use and miss-use God?

The answer, I'm afraid, is far too many. As a matter of fact, I would imagine it is one of the main fracture points within the church today. Oh, it's not that difference of opinion is wrong or bad. They are healthy and necessary. It is the tension that keeps us digging. It is the tension that keeps us wresting with Truth.

The problem is when we justify our opinion--when we try to validate ourselves--with "Thus saith the Lord." I think we need to be far more careful with how we do that. I think we need to be way more cautious in how and when we say "God told me."

After all, God is not a private God. God communicates most often, and most effectively, through community... a community that has spanned the centuries. There is a mighty stream of over 2,000 years Christian tradition that must temper any sort of private "God told me" interpretation. We have 2,000 years of Christian heritage we must listen to and connect with in order to keep us balanced.

Certainly God speaks. But more often then not God speaks in and through the greater body called the Church before he ever speaks through any individual. I just think we need to be way more careful than we are about how we use God's name. I just think we need to think twice, before we say "God told me." And I defiantly think we need to be extremely cautious in expressing our opinions as "Thus saith the Lord."

Forgiveness

I've avoided writing this for a while now. I'm not sure if it's because I wasn't ready, or if it's because I hadn't felt safe enough.

Still don't know if I'm ready. Still don't know if I'm safe enough. But I need to write this anyway. I need to get this out there for my own soul.

After all that's what forgiveness is about... that's what forgiveness seems to affect the most--our own soul. We forgive in order to be free. We forgive in order to grow. We forgive in order to be cleansed.

I need to be free. I need to grow. I need to be cleansed.

Sometimes hurts go very deep. Sometimes hurts go so deep they actually bring about a death. Sometimes that death can fester into something vile and unclean. I don't want that to happen to me. That's why I need to write this. That's why I need to forgive.

...forgive the hurt.

...forgive the wrong.

...forgie the death.

I'm not sure if I'm ready because I still hurt. I'm not sure if I'm safe enough because I still feel the pain of being wronged. I'm not sure if I can becasue there is still a part of me that feels like it's been murdered.

Rob Bell talks about forgiveness as walking away. He says it's about making the choice not to carry the guilt of an offence any longer. He says it's about setting it down and then walking away from it.

I want to walk away. I want to move on. I want to be cleansed.

As I thought about that whole idea of walking away it struck me that the further you walk away from something the smaller it becomes. That gives me hope. It gives me the hope that even though it still hurts, the hurt will become smaller the more I walk. It gives me hope that even though the wrong is still raw and exposed, it will become smaller and healed over time as I continue to walk after Jesus.

I think that's the key. It's not just walking away in any old direction. It's walking away in the way of Jesus. It's walking in the Jesus way. And the Jesus way is the way of life--abundant life.

So I suppose what I'm doing in writing this is I'm setting the hurt down. I'm letting go of the wrong, releasing the pain, forgiving the offence. I am turning away from it. And I am walking after Jesus.

To Be Formed By God

To be formed by God means waiting:
waiting for the right moment
waiting for the right condition
waiting for the right opportunity.
It means waiting until I am ready
to sit on the Potter’s wheel.

To be formed by God means darkness:
it means sitting in the dark clay-bin
feeling very alone and forgotten.
It means enduring the darkness
being cured by time
prepared by patience
readied by resting in the darkness.

To be formed by God means
learning to yield –
my will, my desire, my life—
first to the darkness
then to the hands of the Potter.
It means stillness:
stillness in the darkness
stillness on the wheel
stillness under the pressure
of the Potter’s persistent hand.

To be formed by God
is to allow God’s fingers to press
deep into my most unyielding center
to squeeze out all the air bubbles
that can cause fractures and cracks
when I face the fire.
It means allowing God the freedom
to crush me when I need to be crushed
to scrape me up when I get off center
to press me into whatever shape pleases the Potter.

To be formed by God means
learning to trust the Potter
trust in his love
trust in his wisdom
trust in his will
trusting that no matter how hard it may seem
or how painful and difficult it may be
the Potter is the only one who knows me
and can shape me into a vessel
for his use
for his glory
for his purpose.

Perspective

Why is it that some folks seem to look at everything and always try to see what's wrong? While at the same time there are others who are always looking for God in everything?

It's kind of sad when you think about it. I mean, if all you can see is what's wrong, that's probably all you'll ever see. And if all you can see is what's wrong, let's face it... life would pretty much suck.

Maybe that's why there's so many depressed people walking around.

The other thing is usually it's not a matter of seeing what's wrong; usually it's a matter of pointing out what I don't agree with. And of course, what I don't agree with is what's wrong. If it doesn't fit with my way of thinking it's always wrong. You know... round earth fitting in a flat-earth world view... the sun being the center of the universe... cotton candy not being made out of cotton.

I don't know, I just think it would be a miserable life to always be on your guard like that... always ready to put up your fist and throw a punch... always looking for what's wrong. I don't think that's how God wants anyone to live. Least of all those who claim to be following Jesus.

It just seems to me that it would be much healthier to go through life looking for God in everything. After all, as Christians, we do believe that don't we--that God is everywhere? And if God is everywhere, we should be able to recognize God everywhere...

...in everything.

...at work in everybody.

I wonder what would happen if as followers of Jesus we--instead of always pointing out what's wrong with our world.. our culture... people--what would happen if we started looking for God in all those things? And then, what would happen if we started helping others see what we see?

See God.

Maybe ... just maybe... if we started looking for God more... seeing God more... helping others see God more... maybe, just maybe we'd be doing what Jesus was talking about when he prayed "your kingdom come, you will be done."

Maybe it has to do with perspective.

Maybe it has to do with recognition.

Maybe it has less to do with what's wrong, and more to do with what's God.

Truth

Truth seems to be a hot topic lately. You could even say there are wars being fought over truth.

I just have to wonder, though, if truth is truth--if truth is absolute and unchangeable--does it really need us to wage a war over it?

What I mean is... it just seems to me that the real point about truth is not that it needs to be defended (as if somehow a lie might make the truth less true). The real point about truth is it must be lived out.

You see when truth is only a point--an idea, a concept, a proposition--to be defended, debated, and dissected... it's dead.

And truth is not dead.

Truth that is lived out is alive. It engages people. It engages culture. And it transforms.

That's because truth is bigger than our idea of truth. Truth is bigger than anything we can say about truth. Truth is bigger than any list we can make. As a matter of fact, truth has no bounds. It cannot be contained. Truth is infinite, because God is infinite. How do you defend that? How do you debate that?

All you can do is encounter it... experience it... let it change you.

I don't know. I just wonder when we'll learn how to get out of the way and let God be God, let truth be truth, and simply humble ourselves before the God who is all truth and let the infinite invade and infect the finite, transforming it into something amazing.

Somehow I think that's what the Kingdom of God is all about.

Why is it so hard to keep disciplined?

Obviously if I haven't written anything since February, there's a problem.

It's not that I haven't had anything going on. It's just that I have not been disciplines enough to pause long enough to write.

Maybe that's the really problem--pausing. I'm always in such a rush. I find very little time to pause... very little time to linger.

It's like I've always got something important I've got to rush to. It's like the next moment is somehow more important, more urgent than this moment.

Maybe that's why I miss so many moments.

Why am I so undisciplined? Maybe it's because I haven't learned to linger. I haven't learned to pause. I haven't learned to rest.