on a day when i feel uninspired i refuse not to be proactive.
being proactive means turning on music and probably the volume, it means digging through books, sometimes diving online, often it means coffee, maybe a used bookstore, or most recently it could mean going to the fuller seminary library.
it is difficult to be a pastor who feels uninspired when the masses expect and sometimes demand expertise, motivations, passion, high flying exegesis that feels like the trail of a narrative; someone who walks on water without being pretentious, someone who is eloquent, caring, steadfast, and can tell a good joke.
i had that commom frustrating sense of being uninspired so i proactively headed for fuller looking for something that touched on the wonder of God in the wondrous glow of a manger scene - when God became human flesh.
there is a point in john's gospel in chapter one where it speaks of those who believe in the "Word" that dwells among us (pitched his tent), as the children of God. and the story of a child in a christmas pageant provided the inspiration and made it into my message.
"A little girl dressed as an angel in a Christmas Pageant was told to come down the center aisle by the director. The child said, 'Do you want me to walk or fly?'"
her imagination caught my attention.
wonder added a dimension to her experience and might be able to add something into our experience. wonder has a capacity to transform.
christmas without wonder is a lonely, sad, commercialized experience.
wonder has a place in the life of a believer.
it is the wonder of God working in the world, in our hearts, and entering the world and our believing hearts that provides an inspirational truth. this is what the angels were singing about, what the shepherds believed, what mary treasured in her heart, and what amazed the people. God with skin on, born in a barn, and the whole scene is covered in wonder.
i want to fly.
i don't want to be someone who meets expectations.
i don't want to be the pastor everyone dreams of.
i don't want to be the buzz of a crowd.
i want to fly.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
swanson
i recently attended some sessions at fuller seminary with a topic: the narrative of life, faith and visual art - that featured a speaker from vanderbilt university and an artist from here in l.a.
i found myself in a handful of conversations with the artist - john swanson. when i first encountered his work that was displayed it would have been difficult not to see the different influences he speaks of that makes his work what it is. the color is brillantly infused and the depictions are iconic. but the thing that most got my attention was the narrative text within his work. his art takes you into a story that must be told.
i have not seen anything quite like his work (or maybe also quite like him).
in the very first moment of a very first reaction to his serigraphs i found myself being physically drawn closer and closer. the work draws you into the story. it demands proximity in the encounter. i kept trying to step back for a different look at the work and it kept drawing me closer as the work spoke and the drama of it's value-laden narrative. like a fire it was warmer up close. up close one encounters the merging of voice, color, story, image, perspective, and word. but you have to get close to encounter the art that fills, collides, overlaps, and spills off the edges.
i felt like my eyes were dancing and dizzy the closer i stepped forward into the space between.
while i struggle with the point of the lecture about art in the service of an agenda - a practical, utilitarian focus on faith...i did enjoy the artist and the work that invited me into proximity. i am still thinking about the relationship to the art the same way i have felt while sitting in front of a room full of rothko at the tate modern...
i found myself in a handful of conversations with the artist - john swanson. when i first encountered his work that was displayed it would have been difficult not to see the different influences he speaks of that makes his work what it is. the color is brillantly infused and the depictions are iconic. but the thing that most got my attention was the narrative text within his work. his art takes you into a story that must be told.
i have not seen anything quite like his work (or maybe also quite like him).
in the very first moment of a very first reaction to his serigraphs i found myself being physically drawn closer and closer. the work draws you into the story. it demands proximity in the encounter. i kept trying to step back for a different look at the work and it kept drawing me closer as the work spoke and the drama of it's value-laden narrative. like a fire it was warmer up close. up close one encounters the merging of voice, color, story, image, perspective, and word. but you have to get close to encounter the art that fills, collides, overlaps, and spills off the edges.
i felt like my eyes were dancing and dizzy the closer i stepped forward into the space between.
while i struggle with the point of the lecture about art in the service of an agenda - a practical, utilitarian focus on faith...i did enjoy the artist and the work that invited me into proximity. i am still thinking about the relationship to the art the same way i have felt while sitting in front of a room full of rothko at the tate modern...
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
?does God need the church
i have been reading too much lately and some of it is about the church and the role of the church in the world. i pulled a book off the shelf by gerhard lohfink. he is advocating that the salvation of God demands a concrete place in time and history. he values the work of God as a revolution that needs a place inside history, in the lives of people and cultures. the revolution of salvation is not an abstract ideal, it is a "radical alteration of the whole society..."
"It can only be that God begins in a small way, at one single place in the world. There must be a place, visible, tangible, where the salvation of the world can begin: that is, where the world becomes what it is supposed to be according to God's plan. Beginning in that place, the new thing can spread abroad, but not through persuasion, not through indoctrination, not through violence.
Everyone must have the opportunity to come and see. All must have the chance to behold and test this new thing. Then, if they want to, then can allow themselves to be drawn into the history of salvation that God is creating...."
with that quote i think of what God is up to. i think about the church. i think about living a dream to reach others with the message of salvation and the way it is lived and portrayed as salt and light. i think of incarnation. i think of how he uses people and uses communities who try to be Jesus in concrete places in tangible ways. i think of the word becoming flesh and a baby born in a barn.
with that quote i think of what God is up to and i still want to be a part of it all.
"It can only be that God begins in a small way, at one single place in the world. There must be a place, visible, tangible, where the salvation of the world can begin: that is, where the world becomes what it is supposed to be according to God's plan. Beginning in that place, the new thing can spread abroad, but not through persuasion, not through indoctrination, not through violence.
Everyone must have the opportunity to come and see. All must have the chance to behold and test this new thing. Then, if they want to, then can allow themselves to be drawn into the history of salvation that God is creating...."
with that quote i think of what God is up to. i think about the church. i think about living a dream to reach others with the message of salvation and the way it is lived and portrayed as salt and light. i think of incarnation. i think of how he uses people and uses communities who try to be Jesus in concrete places in tangible ways. i think of the word becoming flesh and a baby born in a barn.
with that quote i think of what God is up to and i still want to be a part of it all.
sayers' jesus
dorothy sayers was a writer i ran into years ago at a place where faith and creativity meet. i loved the way she awakens the familiar with a perspective that screams in the dark...so i paid attention and read her work and wondered what it means.
"The people who hanged Christ never, to do them justice, accused him of being a bore - on the contrary; they though Him too dynamic to be safe. It has been left for later generations to muffle up that shattering personality and surround Him with an atmosphere of tedium. We have very efficiently pared the claws of the Lion of Judah, certified Him "meek and mild," recommended Him as a fitting household pet for pale curates and pious old ladies. To those who knew Him, however, He in no way suggested a milk-and-water person; they objected to Him as a dangerous firebrand.
True, He was tender to the unfortunate, patient with honest inquirers, and humble before Heaven; but He insulted respectable clergymen by calling them hypocrites; He referred to King Herod as 'that fox'; He went to parties in disreputable company and was looked upon as a 'gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners'; He assaulted indignant tradesmen and threw them and their belongings out of the Temple; He drove a coach and horses through a number of sacrosanct and hoary regulations; He cured diseases by any means that came handy, with a shocking casualness in the matter of other people's pigs and property; He showed no deference for wealth or social position; when confronted with neat dialectical traps he displayed a paradoxical humour that affronted serious-minded people, and He retorted by asking disagreeably searching questions that could not be answered by rule of thumb.
He was emphatically not a dull man in His human lifetime, and if He was God, there can be nothing dull about God either. But he had a 'daily beauty in His life that made us ugly,' and officialdom felt that the established order of things would be more secure without Him. So they did away with God in the name of peace and quietness."
"The people who hanged Christ never, to do them justice, accused him of being a bore - on the contrary; they though Him too dynamic to be safe. It has been left for later generations to muffle up that shattering personality and surround Him with an atmosphere of tedium. We have very efficiently pared the claws of the Lion of Judah, certified Him "meek and mild," recommended Him as a fitting household pet for pale curates and pious old ladies. To those who knew Him, however, He in no way suggested a milk-and-water person; they objected to Him as a dangerous firebrand.
True, He was tender to the unfortunate, patient with honest inquirers, and humble before Heaven; but He insulted respectable clergymen by calling them hypocrites; He referred to King Herod as 'that fox'; He went to parties in disreputable company and was looked upon as a 'gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners'; He assaulted indignant tradesmen and threw them and their belongings out of the Temple; He drove a coach and horses through a number of sacrosanct and hoary regulations; He cured diseases by any means that came handy, with a shocking casualness in the matter of other people's pigs and property; He showed no deference for wealth or social position; when confronted with neat dialectical traps he displayed a paradoxical humour that affronted serious-minded people, and He retorted by asking disagreeably searching questions that could not be answered by rule of thumb.
He was emphatically not a dull man in His human lifetime, and if He was God, there can be nothing dull about God either. But he had a 'daily beauty in His life that made us ugly,' and officialdom felt that the established order of things would be more secure without Him. So they did away with God in the name of peace and quietness."
xmaspoem
we always put our tree up at the end of thanksgiving weekend. i like christmas. i was thinking about this poem a few weeks ago as we finished getting a tree selected and distingushed for the season.
the poem says something about simplicity, about the importance of place, about humility, and about the birth of a savior. these are some of the important themes of the season. it is a poem by wendell berry and it is from A Timbered Choir...
Our Christmas tree is
not electrified, is not
covered with little lights
calling attention to themselves
(we have had enough
of little lights calling attention
to themselves). Our tree
is a cedar cut here, one
of the fragrances of our place,
hung with painted cones
and paper stars folded
long ago to praise our tree,
Christ come into our world.
the poem says something about simplicity, about the importance of place, about humility, and about the birth of a savior. these are some of the important themes of the season. it is a poem by wendell berry and it is from A Timbered Choir...
Our Christmas tree is
not electrified, is not
covered with little lights
calling attention to themselves
(we have had enough
of little lights calling attention
to themselves). Our tree
is a cedar cut here, one
of the fragrances of our place,
hung with painted cones
and paper stars folded
long ago to praise our tree,
Christ come into our world.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
the questions of the world
anyone can feel pain, loneliness, joy, laughter, anger...
one does not have to have faith in God to experience what is true and real about this world. we are all alive. so often in various art forms one finds the artist able to share or represent certain features of life with great accuaracy and passion. in one sense it doesn't matter what you believe or don't believe, everyone can ask the questions of life if they will have the courage.
good art has often asked the right questions.
while reading a novel called Tinkers by paul harding i was thinking about this.
"Your cold mornings are filled with the heartache about the fact that although we are not at ease in this world, it is all we have, that it is ours but that it is full of strife, so that all we can call our own is strife; but even that is better than nothing at all, isn't it? And as you split frost-laced wood with numb hands, rejoice that your uncertainty is God's will and His grace toward you and that that is beautiful, and part of a greater certainty, as your own father always said in his sermons and to your at home. And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it. And when you resent the ache in your heart, remember: You will be dead and buried soon enough."
then it goes on with a character reflecting...
"Howard resented the ache in his heart. He resented that it was there every morning when he woke up, that it remained at least until he had dressed and had some hot coffee, if not until he had taken stock of the goods in his brush cart, and fed and hitched Prince Edward, if not until his rounds were done, if his dreams were not tormented by it. He resented equally the ache and resentment itself. He resented his resentment because it was a sign of his own limitations of spirit and humility, no matter that he understood that such was each man's burden. He resented the ache because it was uninvited, seemed imposed, a sentence, and, despite the encouragement he gave himself every morning, it baffled him because it was there whether the day was good or bad, whether he witnessed major kindness or minor transgression, suffered sourceless grief or spontaneous joy."
i was thinking about this.
it felt a little familiar to me.
whatever is true and real in this world is connected to a God who created, according to believers. the only real difference between us and those who don't include God in the conversation is the particular hope we hang onto - hope that is filled with the answers and the reasons we possess. we spend our lives feeling the same things, having similiar experiences, and they include questions and doubts...and maybe an ache at times or sometimes more than others.
i remember an honest line from the bible, a man saying 'i believe, help my unbelief.'
i like to hear the stories of people with real questions.
i like art that is honest.
i like people who are honest.
i like having some answers to go with the questions.
one does not have to have faith in God to experience what is true and real about this world. we are all alive. so often in various art forms one finds the artist able to share or represent certain features of life with great accuaracy and passion. in one sense it doesn't matter what you believe or don't believe, everyone can ask the questions of life if they will have the courage.
good art has often asked the right questions.
while reading a novel called Tinkers by paul harding i was thinking about this.
"Your cold mornings are filled with the heartache about the fact that although we are not at ease in this world, it is all we have, that it is ours but that it is full of strife, so that all we can call our own is strife; but even that is better than nothing at all, isn't it? And as you split frost-laced wood with numb hands, rejoice that your uncertainty is God's will and His grace toward you and that that is beautiful, and part of a greater certainty, as your own father always said in his sermons and to your at home. And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it. And when you resent the ache in your heart, remember: You will be dead and buried soon enough."
then it goes on with a character reflecting...
"Howard resented the ache in his heart. He resented that it was there every morning when he woke up, that it remained at least until he had dressed and had some hot coffee, if not until he had taken stock of the goods in his brush cart, and fed and hitched Prince Edward, if not until his rounds were done, if his dreams were not tormented by it. He resented equally the ache and resentment itself. He resented his resentment because it was a sign of his own limitations of spirit and humility, no matter that he understood that such was each man's burden. He resented the ache because it was uninvited, seemed imposed, a sentence, and, despite the encouragement he gave himself every morning, it baffled him because it was there whether the day was good or bad, whether he witnessed major kindness or minor transgression, suffered sourceless grief or spontaneous joy."
i was thinking about this.
it felt a little familiar to me.
whatever is true and real in this world is connected to a God who created, according to believers. the only real difference between us and those who don't include God in the conversation is the particular hope we hang onto - hope that is filled with the answers and the reasons we possess. we spend our lives feeling the same things, having similiar experiences, and they include questions and doubts...and maybe an ache at times or sometimes more than others.
i remember an honest line from the bible, a man saying 'i believe, help my unbelief.'
i like to hear the stories of people with real questions.
i like art that is honest.
i like people who are honest.
i like having some answers to go with the questions.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
nouwen
henri nouwen woke me up this morning with this...
"Those who think that they have arrived, have lost their way. Those who think they have reached their goal, have missed it. Those who think they are saints, are demons. An important part of the spiritual life is to keep longing, waiting, hoping, expecting. In the long run, some voluntary penance becomes necessary to help us remember that we are not yet fulfilled. A good criticism, a frustrating day, an empty stomach, or tired eyes might help to reawaken our expectation and deepen our prayer: Come Lord Jesus, come."
(The Genesee Diary)
as i was writing in my journal i was thinking about 'longing, waiting, hoping, expecting' in a world where it is largely assumed i can get what i want - now. there is an assumption that we can be satisfied customers. we think we can have it all, including a guarantee.
nouwen reminded me that some of the best things are yet to come.
there is a part of me that must remain unsatisfied.
there is a part of me that must remain hungry.
there is a part of me that must anticipate on my tiptoes.
there is a part of me that lives in the now, but not yet, and that part needs to stop complaining and keep running.
in place of complaining i must see this as a promise...like a gift on xmas eve before the other gifts are received on xmas day when the best is shared.
no matter what needs to be done and can be done...no matter what is necessary for today...no matter where we must have unwavering commitment to as we make things happen on earth as they are in heaven...there is still heaven and all the other promises that will arrive like xmas when maranatha is realized.
open whatever you are given.
be grateful no matter what.
don't stop longing, waiting, hoping, expecting.
life will daily remind us.
life will wear on us like sandpaper on wood.
life at times can be a lot like heaven or a lot like hell, but it isn't.
after i read nouwen i thought of hebrews 12:1-3...keep running...
"Those who think that they have arrived, have lost their way. Those who think they have reached their goal, have missed it. Those who think they are saints, are demons. An important part of the spiritual life is to keep longing, waiting, hoping, expecting. In the long run, some voluntary penance becomes necessary to help us remember that we are not yet fulfilled. A good criticism, a frustrating day, an empty stomach, or tired eyes might help to reawaken our expectation and deepen our prayer: Come Lord Jesus, come."
(The Genesee Diary)
as i was writing in my journal i was thinking about 'longing, waiting, hoping, expecting' in a world where it is largely assumed i can get what i want - now. there is an assumption that we can be satisfied customers. we think we can have it all, including a guarantee.
nouwen reminded me that some of the best things are yet to come.
there is a part of me that must remain unsatisfied.
there is a part of me that must remain hungry.
there is a part of me that must anticipate on my tiptoes.
there is a part of me that lives in the now, but not yet, and that part needs to stop complaining and keep running.
in place of complaining i must see this as a promise...like a gift on xmas eve before the other gifts are received on xmas day when the best is shared.
no matter what needs to be done and can be done...no matter what is necessary for today...no matter where we must have unwavering commitment to as we make things happen on earth as they are in heaven...there is still heaven and all the other promises that will arrive like xmas when maranatha is realized.
open whatever you are given.
be grateful no matter what.
don't stop longing, waiting, hoping, expecting.
life will daily remind us.
life will wear on us like sandpaper on wood.
life at times can be a lot like heaven or a lot like hell, but it isn't.
after i read nouwen i thought of hebrews 12:1-3...keep running...
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