Friends of one of my sons have a young daughter going through difficult cancer treatment. The Dad wrote about his spiritual experience in this prolonged journey. They have not so much asked God “Why?” as they have asked “How long?” They are believing this means “How long until healing?” but for many who agonize over the suffering of someone dearly loved it means “how long until death?” This can be especially excruciating for parents with a child. When it is an elderly parent or spouse whose suffering is prolonged, the question “How long?” may see death as release from the suffering.
I looked up in the Bible all of the instances the question “How long?” I didn't know what I would find, and my observations are not an exhaustive study. What I found took me in some unexpected directions that at first seemed not to address the way these parents are asking “How long?”
First I noticed that in the books that come before the Psalms, “How long?” is asked many times, but not in the sense of “How long will God let suffering go on?” but in the sense of “How long will God's people stray from Him?” The questioner is God. We humans are the ones who have wandered off into unresponsiveness. God is anxiously calling us back.
But in the Psalms the roles reverse and the Psalmists ask “How long will God permit this suffering, this evil?” These questions are not about the personal suffering of illness but the corporate and personal suffering of God’s people at the hands of evil people or questioning why God takes so long to bring judgment on or release from evil people.
The question does show up in this way a few times in the prophets (Isaiah 6:11; Jeremiah 12:4; Habakkuk 1:2; Zechariah 1:12). With the exception of Isaiah 6, these are all post-exilic. I would be interested to see what, if anything, can be known about the dating of the Psalms that ask this question. Whether post-exilic or not, I suspect this questioning comes when Israel and Judah are past prime and longing for former glory.
So it seems the earlier occurrences of “How long?” are God asking the people how long they will wander off before returning to the covenant. These questions do persist into the prophets. Not until later does the Bible record people asking how long God will allow them to suffer at the hands of evil people. Either way, the question is about how long human rebellion and evil can go on, not how long we have to endure personal suffering such as disease that comes in the course of life.
However, I don't think this means it is wrong for parents to ask “How long will our child have to suffer this illness?” In fact, I take the tone of the Psalms that directly challenge God with by asking “How long?” as permission and even encouragement to confront God with our honest and profound questions.
Nor does this mean illness should interpreted as some kind of warning to repent. Disease and other personal suffering seem to be accepted as part of life in Scripture, not normally as a judgment from God for some sin. But “How long?” is just not asked about that kind of thing.
The question “How long?” seems to connect with “waiting on the Lord,” which also permeates the Psalms. This is more profound than just the difference between our sense of time and God's timing. Somehow it has to do with recognizing that God is working when everything seems static. Like watching the dark settle over sky and earth following sunset, it all happens imperceptibly, yet with definitive force. Even when nothing seemed to be happening, the changes come.
So asking “How long?” whether or not the circumstances have a Biblical president recognizes and accepts, even welcomes the imperceptible work of God when nothing seems to be happening.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Melt Me Down
The Book of Common Prayer renders Psalm 17:3b as "Melt me down; you will find no impurity in me." What an image! Though I tend to try to avoid the heat that melts, the flames and coals are unavoidable. So my concern has to be what impurities will be revealed. I know I am not free of impurities, so my prayer has to be that the melt down will burn them off. Not what I like but what I do desire.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
"Whoever is in a hurry delays the work of God." St. Vincent de Paul
I muddled the conclusion of my worship message this morning, which left out this quote that speaks both to how to approach Advent and the conclusion of that message. It prompted such valuable reflection in me that I am sharing it as widely as I can. The audio of that message will be available this week in the media section at www.cccdt.org.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Persistent Prayer – Pedagogy of the Psalms
Spiritual direction by correspondence has a long and revered history. Some of the great spiritual classics are the collection of such letters: Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God, the writings of François Fénelon, The Cloud of Unknowing, and you may have your favorite. While correspondence lacks the immediacy, responsiveness and interpersonal connection of face to face holy conversation, it tends to be more reflectively formulated and is portable, reproducible and can be shared with others. In this era of the internet, I have seen an assortment of articles and opinions about extending the spiritual correspondence tradition to e-mail. While e-mail spiritual correspondence can be reproduced and shared, I wonder if it will be as reflective as paper correspondence, since clicking off a reply is so easy? I have recently had occasion for some e-mail spiritual correspondence that covered distances and relationships that probably wouldn’t have happened with paper correspondence. As I looked back on it, I realized that I was covering some material I have frequently addressed face to face, and that perhaps making it more widely available would benefit others too. Though it developed over time in the give and take of correspondence, I have synthesized and edited to make self-contained essays, from which I hope I have removed anything that might be identifying or embarrassing to those with whom I had the original correspondence, should they ever read it. However, I certainly don't consider this is the same league with the spiritual classics, only inspired by the written form.
When Luke introduces Jesus’ parable of the widow and the unjust judge in Luke 18:1-7 he writes, “Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” Jesus is telling this story specifically to answer your concern about pestering God with the same concern over and over again. Jesus’ point is obviously not that God is like the heartless judge but that we should not give up on praying even when it seems nothing is happening. God doesn’t get tired of our prayers.
In the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:11 and the parallel in Luke 11:13) Jesus says that our Heavenly Father delights to hear our prayers. Consistent with Jesus, in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 the Apostle Paul encourages us to “pray without ceasing.”
I do hope that encourages you not to give up praying or thinking that you are somehow pestering God with your prayers. As we grow in prayer we discover that prayer is not so much about asking God to do things for us but is about having a conversation with the best friend ever. I do believe that we can learn this by praying the Psalms. I have prayed through the Psalms every month for 40 years. Learning to pray this way is not about getting through the material but about being alert for where God wants to connect with me today. A Psalm that may not seem to connect with anything today, may be exactly where God wants me to pay attention the next month or the next year.
I know there are plenty of other ways to do this, but this system is simple and has served me well. I start with the date (for example, if today is November 22) and read the Psalm with that number (for example, Psalm 22 today). Then I add 30 four times to get the other Psalms for the day (for example 22, 52, 82, 112, 142 today). Since Psalm 119 is so long, I skip it when I get to it and save it for the 31st in those months.
I do not treat the Psalms as prayers to be read through or recited as we do with the Lord’s Prayer. Instead, as I read I try to watch for something that resonates with what I want to talk to God about that day, or what it suggests God may want to discuss with me. I don’t worry about trying to connect with something in every Psalm but just one or two things that make a touch point between God and me each day. I do the Psalms at breakfast most days and often find that those one or two themes from the Psalms stay with me throughout the day.
I hope you can find the Psalms give you a way to talk with God about the issues that are important to you. I think you will find a profound honesty in the Psalms and a way to talk to God about things that might seem almost intimidating. Having said that, developing your prayer relationship with God this way is not instant but takes years, not just a few weeks. I say that not to discourage you but to suggest that it is worth keeping going even when it doesn’t seem all that exciting. It will shape you.
When Luke introduces Jesus’ parable of the widow and the unjust judge in Luke 18:1-7 he writes, “Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” Jesus is telling this story specifically to answer your concern about pestering God with the same concern over and over again. Jesus’ point is obviously not that God is like the heartless judge but that we should not give up on praying even when it seems nothing is happening. God doesn’t get tired of our prayers.
In the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:11 and the parallel in Luke 11:13) Jesus says that our Heavenly Father delights to hear our prayers. Consistent with Jesus, in 1 Thessalonians 5:17 the Apostle Paul encourages us to “pray without ceasing.”
I do hope that encourages you not to give up praying or thinking that you are somehow pestering God with your prayers. As we grow in prayer we discover that prayer is not so much about asking God to do things for us but is about having a conversation with the best friend ever. I do believe that we can learn this by praying the Psalms. I have prayed through the Psalms every month for 40 years. Learning to pray this way is not about getting through the material but about being alert for where God wants to connect with me today. A Psalm that may not seem to connect with anything today, may be exactly where God wants me to pay attention the next month or the next year.
I know there are plenty of other ways to do this, but this system is simple and has served me well. I start with the date (for example, if today is November 22) and read the Psalm with that number (for example, Psalm 22 today). Then I add 30 four times to get the other Psalms for the day (for example 22, 52, 82, 112, 142 today). Since Psalm 119 is so long, I skip it when I get to it and save it for the 31st in those months.
I do not treat the Psalms as prayers to be read through or recited as we do with the Lord’s Prayer. Instead, as I read I try to watch for something that resonates with what I want to talk to God about that day, or what it suggests God may want to discuss with me. I don’t worry about trying to connect with something in every Psalm but just one or two things that make a touch point between God and me each day. I do the Psalms at breakfast most days and often find that those one or two themes from the Psalms stay with me throughout the day.
I hope you can find the Psalms give you a way to talk with God about the issues that are important to you. I think you will find a profound honesty in the Psalms and a way to talk to God about things that might seem almost intimidating. Having said that, developing your prayer relationship with God this way is not instant but takes years, not just a few weeks. I say that not to discourage you but to suggest that it is worth keeping going even when it doesn’t seem all that exciting. It will shape you.
Prayer and Forgiveness
Spiritual direction by correspondence has a long and revered history. Some of the great spiritual classics are the collection of such letters: Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God, the writings of François Fénelon, The Cloud of Unknowing, and you may have your favorite. While correspondence lacks the immediacy, responsiveness and interpersonal connection of face to face holy conversation, it tends to be more reflectively formulated and is portable, reproducible and can be shared with others. In this era of the internet, I have seen an assortment of articles and opinions about extending the spiritual correspondence tradition to e-mail. While e-mail spiritual correspondence can be reproduced and shared, I wonder if it will be as reflective as paper correspondence, since clicking off a reply is so easy? I have recently had occasion for some e-mail spiritual correspondence that covered distances and relationships that probably wouldn’t have happened with paper correspondence. As I looked back on it, I realized that I was covering some material I have frequently addressed face to face, and that perhaps making it more widely available would benefit others too. Though it developed over time in the give and take of correspondence, I have synthesized and edited to make self-contained essays, from which I hope I have removed anything that might be identifying or embarrassing to those with whom I had the original correspondence, should they ever read it. However, I certainly don't consider this is the same league with the spiritual classics, only inspired by the written form.
Prayer and forgiveness raise two very important questions. I suspect some struggle and pain can come when these two are deeply intertwined and yet in tension.
We know that Jesus forgave those who crucified him (Luke 23:34), but that may be a standard beyond our reach. In fact, following the examples of the great saints who forgave their persecutors is more than we are able to do. One of the reasons we wrestle with forgiveness is that we tend to think that it somehow absolves the guilt of the one who committed the wrong. But that kind of forgiveness is only in God's hands. When we forgive someone who has injured us, we are the ones who benefit. It frees us from carrying around and being inflicted with the pain over and over again. It many ways, forgiveness is a releasing of the other person to God, for God to deal with.
Once we give up trying to forgive and acknowledge to ourselves and to God that we are unable to forgive, we can relinquish both the person and the pain to God. This is what Ephesians 4:32 is getting at when it says, "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you." Forgiveness is one of those things that the harder you try the less successful you are, but by letting go, you discover that Christ works the forgiveness in and through you. Whether it ever does anything for the other person, it points you in the direction of wholeness.
From very ancient times Christians have prayed what is called "The Jesus Prayer." It is based on Luke 18:13 and goes like this, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." It is repeated over and over, letting the mercy of Christ soak into our hearts and souls. It is a prayer that can be repeated when you know you have not been what you want to be. It is a prayer you can use when you start to think you are doing pretty well. It is a prayer you can you when you are in trouble. And it is a prayer you can use when you don't feel particularly forgiving of someone else, and as you call on Christ's mercy for yourself, you become open to extending it to even someone who has hurt you.
Prayer and forgiveness raise two very important questions. I suspect some struggle and pain can come when these two are deeply intertwined and yet in tension.
We know that Jesus forgave those who crucified him (Luke 23:34), but that may be a standard beyond our reach. In fact, following the examples of the great saints who forgave their persecutors is more than we are able to do. One of the reasons we wrestle with forgiveness is that we tend to think that it somehow absolves the guilt of the one who committed the wrong. But that kind of forgiveness is only in God's hands. When we forgive someone who has injured us, we are the ones who benefit. It frees us from carrying around and being inflicted with the pain over and over again. It many ways, forgiveness is a releasing of the other person to God, for God to deal with.
Once we give up trying to forgive and acknowledge to ourselves and to God that we are unable to forgive, we can relinquish both the person and the pain to God. This is what Ephesians 4:32 is getting at when it says, "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you." Forgiveness is one of those things that the harder you try the less successful you are, but by letting go, you discover that Christ works the forgiveness in and through you. Whether it ever does anything for the other person, it points you in the direction of wholeness.
From very ancient times Christians have prayed what is called "The Jesus Prayer." It is based on Luke 18:13 and goes like this, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." It is repeated over and over, letting the mercy of Christ soak into our hearts and souls. It is a prayer that can be repeated when you know you have not been what you want to be. It is a prayer you can use when you start to think you are doing pretty well. It is a prayer you can you when you are in trouble. And it is a prayer you can use when you don't feel particularly forgiving of someone else, and as you call on Christ's mercy for yourself, you become open to extending it to even someone who has hurt you.
Guidance for Grieving
Spiritual direction by correspondence has a long and revered history. Some of the great spiritual classics are the collection of such letters: Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God, the writings of François Fénelon, The Cloud of Unknowing, and you may have your favorite. While correspondence lacks the immediacy, responsiveness and interpersonal connection of face to face holy conversation, it tends to be more reflectively formulated and is portable, reproducible and can be shared with others. In this era of the internet, I have seen an assortment of articles and opinions about extending the spiritual correspondence tradition to e-mail. While e-mail spiritual correspondence can be reproduced and shared, I wonder if it will be as reflective as paper correspondence, since clicking off a reply is so easy? I have recently had occasion for some e-mail spiritual correspondence that covered distances and relationships that probably wouldn’t have happened with paper correspondence. As I looked back on it, I realized that I was covering some material I have frequently addressed face to face, and that perhaps making it more widely available would benefit others too. Though it developed over time in the give and take of correspondence, I have synthesized and edited to make self-contained essays, from which I hope I have removed anything that might be identifying or embarrassing to those with whom I had the original correspondence, should they ever read it. However, I certainly don't consider this is the same league with the spiritual classics, only inspired by the written form.
I'm sorry to learn of your mother's passing. I do trust you will receive peace and comfort as time goes by. This is not something you "get over" but becomes part of your new reality.
Extending kindness in a time a grieving can be healing, but if that does not seem to work out that does not mean you are being punished for your kindness. In any stress, especially grieving, knowing your limits is important so you do not extend yourself so far that your ability to function and care is impaired.
When your doctor suggested eliminating the source of stress, I thought about something that famine relief workers have to deal with. After serving very basic food to starving people all day, they can feel guilty about eating a substantial supper in the evening. However, not to do that weakens them so that they can't go on helping the starving people. I am wondering if some of what you are experiencing is the stress of caring that is stretching you out beyond your emotional resources, coming so soon after your mother's passing.
Something I often say to the people in my congregation when they face overwhelming problems is that I can't fix the really important things that go wrong, but I can promise you will not have to go through this alone. You asked about getting yourself back in shape to where you can get back to giving in a healthy way. My suggestion is to connect with some people who you trust and who make no demands on you. As a pastor, I find that for many people this happens in a church. Some people in this congregation have just showed up when they needed those kinds of relationships.
Specifically in regards to losing your mother I have found a lot of comfort in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 that talks about grieving with hope. Grief is real and important, not to be suppressed, but it can be the path to growth and healing when accompanied with hope. I copied it here (from NRSV) to saving having to look it up.
"We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died. For this we declare to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will by no means precede those who have died. For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words."
Many people, especially those with Roman Catholic background, feel some peace as they pray the Rosary when they grieve by coming back again and again to the line "pray for us now and in the moment of our death." This assures them that they are not alone in this ultimate human mystery. I'm not recommending praying to the Virgin Mary, but only acknowledging how people draw assurance by repeating that line. Indeed, your mother was not alone as she died, and neither are you alone now. This kind of prayer is about our longing to get in touch with God at the deepest core of our being, beyond where there are words. I believe this is what Romans 8:26-27 is about.
"The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God."
I take this to mean that God invites us to open our hearts and give God permission to enter into our deepest wounds and pain - things we dare not even speak. We can do this confidently even in the face of death because Jesus has experienced death, yet he lives to guide and accompany us on our own journey through the end of this life and as we grieve the loss of those we love. He has been and is still there for and with us.
Some people sense the presence of the loved one for some time after they are gone and others do not, but they may wish they did. Neither is right or wrong but may just be that different people grieve in different ways. Perhaps some reflection on the communion of saints will be helpful when you miss your mother.
You might think this way. If those who have go ahead of us from this life are in the presence of God, and if we are in the presence of God when we pray and worship, then we are sharing the experience of God's presence, even if we are not sharing each other's presence. In fact, if we believe that those who have gone ahead of us are even more keenly aware of being with God than we are, we can be thankful on their behalf.
I would also suggest that when you pray you can tell God the things you would like to be able to say to your mother. This is not so much that God will pass your messages to your mother, but more that God cares about both you and her and happily listens to your concerns as any good friend would. I don't mean that any of this will make the hurt go away, only that God cares about your hurt and listens to you.
I have found that the Psalms have greatly enriched and shaped my prayers. Actually, I have prayed through the Psalms once a month for forty years. The Psalms capture every possible human emotion and give us a way to express them to God and to ourselves, even when we are unable to find words. Also, they give us permission to be honest with God. As you grieve, you might want to start with Psalms 116, 139 and 88.
You do not need to stop thinking about your mom. Grief is a process in which you grow gradually, and you do not really get over it and leave it behind, but it becomes a part of a more mature you. Each time you think about your mom, you can breathe a brief prayer: give thanks for something you cherish about her, tell God how much you love and miss her, ask God to let you honor her in some way today.
You might want to write/type Psalm 31:1-5 on a card you can carry around and read when you feel overwhelmed by thoughts of your mom. I think that will be better than trying to make moving on a goal that you work toward. Let God move you along at a pace that is good for you. Here it is from NRSV: “In you, O LORD, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me. Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me. You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me, take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.”
I'm sorry to learn of your mother's passing. I do trust you will receive peace and comfort as time goes by. This is not something you "get over" but becomes part of your new reality.
Extending kindness in a time a grieving can be healing, but if that does not seem to work out that does not mean you are being punished for your kindness. In any stress, especially grieving, knowing your limits is important so you do not extend yourself so far that your ability to function and care is impaired.
When your doctor suggested eliminating the source of stress, I thought about something that famine relief workers have to deal with. After serving very basic food to starving people all day, they can feel guilty about eating a substantial supper in the evening. However, not to do that weakens them so that they can't go on helping the starving people. I am wondering if some of what you are experiencing is the stress of caring that is stretching you out beyond your emotional resources, coming so soon after your mother's passing.
Something I often say to the people in my congregation when they face overwhelming problems is that I can't fix the really important things that go wrong, but I can promise you will not have to go through this alone. You asked about getting yourself back in shape to where you can get back to giving in a healthy way. My suggestion is to connect with some people who you trust and who make no demands on you. As a pastor, I find that for many people this happens in a church. Some people in this congregation have just showed up when they needed those kinds of relationships.
Specifically in regards to losing your mother I have found a lot of comfort in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 that talks about grieving with hope. Grief is real and important, not to be suppressed, but it can be the path to growth and healing when accompanied with hope. I copied it here (from NRSV) to saving having to look it up.
"We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died. For this we declare to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will by no means precede those who have died. For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words."
Many people, especially those with Roman Catholic background, feel some peace as they pray the Rosary when they grieve by coming back again and again to the line "pray for us now and in the moment of our death." This assures them that they are not alone in this ultimate human mystery. I'm not recommending praying to the Virgin Mary, but only acknowledging how people draw assurance by repeating that line. Indeed, your mother was not alone as she died, and neither are you alone now. This kind of prayer is about our longing to get in touch with God at the deepest core of our being, beyond where there are words. I believe this is what Romans 8:26-27 is about.
"The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God."
I take this to mean that God invites us to open our hearts and give God permission to enter into our deepest wounds and pain - things we dare not even speak. We can do this confidently even in the face of death because Jesus has experienced death, yet he lives to guide and accompany us on our own journey through the end of this life and as we grieve the loss of those we love. He has been and is still there for and with us.
Some people sense the presence of the loved one for some time after they are gone and others do not, but they may wish they did. Neither is right or wrong but may just be that different people grieve in different ways. Perhaps some reflection on the communion of saints will be helpful when you miss your mother.
You might think this way. If those who have go ahead of us from this life are in the presence of God, and if we are in the presence of God when we pray and worship, then we are sharing the experience of God's presence, even if we are not sharing each other's presence. In fact, if we believe that those who have gone ahead of us are even more keenly aware of being with God than we are, we can be thankful on their behalf.
I would also suggest that when you pray you can tell God the things you would like to be able to say to your mother. This is not so much that God will pass your messages to your mother, but more that God cares about both you and her and happily listens to your concerns as any good friend would. I don't mean that any of this will make the hurt go away, only that God cares about your hurt and listens to you.
I have found that the Psalms have greatly enriched and shaped my prayers. Actually, I have prayed through the Psalms once a month for forty years. The Psalms capture every possible human emotion and give us a way to express them to God and to ourselves, even when we are unable to find words. Also, they give us permission to be honest with God. As you grieve, you might want to start with Psalms 116, 139 and 88.
You do not need to stop thinking about your mom. Grief is a process in which you grow gradually, and you do not really get over it and leave it behind, but it becomes a part of a more mature you. Each time you think about your mom, you can breathe a brief prayer: give thanks for something you cherish about her, tell God how much you love and miss her, ask God to let you honor her in some way today.
You might want to write/type Psalm 31:1-5 on a card you can carry around and read when you feel overwhelmed by thoughts of your mom. I think that will be better than trying to make moving on a goal that you work toward. Let God move you along at a pace that is good for you. Here it is from NRSV: “In you, O LORD, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me. Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me. You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me, take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.”
Monday, November 30, 2009
Looking Through a Thin Place, April 22, 2004
I started yesterday (04-21-04) with the intention of spending three days with God, but my mind and heart are still cluttered with looking for answers instead of looking for God, even if it is God’s answers I am looking for. I am preoccupied with what to do instead of who to be or how to be.
I did get a taste of being with God as I watched the sunset and the stars come out last night. Lying on my back by the lake I saw a bank of grey clouds divide a deepening blue sky overhead with a crescent moon, just days away from new, with a bright planet. They were bright and clear in the sky before any stars were visible. Below the cloud the sky was luminous, pearlescent – white just the below the cloud blending to a coral or peach pink toward the horizon. In contrast to the crisp sharp moon and planet in the deepening blue sky, the pearlescent pink was unfocused. The blue above, with moon and planet, seemed to be a defined plane, approachable, tangible. But the pearlescent pink below seemed mysterious, elusive, distant, unattainable, infinite. It drew me toward eternity. I though about the images of passing into eternity in the books Peace Like a River and Crested Butte. Fathers and sons together – a processional over a ridge where the son is sent back – the father reaches across a stream in a cave to welcome the son in.
The pearlescent pink sky was drawing me in. As the bank of cloud drifted east and the moon and planet settled west, at one point the bank of cloud separated moon and planet. The pink was beginning to lose its luminescence, and the crescent moon’s sharp edges and points invaded and disrupted the haziness of the pink. With moon on one side and planet on the other, the mysteriousness was punctured and soon the pink melted into grey that merged into the blue that had now deepened into black, with stars glistening through. The cloud bank had drifted away and isolated clouds dodged among the stars. I was sent back.
I remembered walking with a friend in Mckemmie Woods, Virginia in 1997 watching the Hale-Bopp comet and discussing the heightened awareness we have of God in the transitions and seams of life, like dawn and dusk. I read in Phil Yancey’s Rumors of Another World of the “thin spots” between this world and God’s eternity. I reflected on the Orthodox understanding of icons as windows from or through which we catch a glimpse of eternity.
Last night’s sunset was surly such a thin spot – an icon – into eternity. I sure it could all be explained with meteorology and optics – physics and chemistry – but with spiritual eyes on an intentional awareness of God gracing me/us with his presence, I got a glimpse of eternity. That the far more to the point that answers to my uncertainties about my can and the path immediately ahead of me.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Looking Through a Thin Place - An Advent Icon
As I was preparing for my worship message for the first Sunday of Advent 2009, I remembered experiencing a thin place on my January 14, 2009 silent retreat at Disciples Crossing in Athens, Texas. Including that in my worship message would be extraneous and distracting (not to mention making it too long), but I do think it might be of interest if not of value to some folk. Here is the excerpt from my November 29 worship message that prompted me to decide to post my journal entry.
English teacher and writer Leonard Beechy tells how in the year before his mother died she heard her father call to her during the night. She said his voice was so clear that she answered and struggled to get up. She spent her final year in a twilight that blended past and present. He wondered if she heard her father call again during that quiet December night when she died. Often when people come to the threshold between this life and the next they are suspended in a thin place where they get a glimpse of eternity. (Christian Century, November 17, 2009, p. 21) We can think of Advent as a thin place in the year in which we are suspended between the past and eternity, catching a glimpse of God’s hope for humanity.
Celtic spirituality, both Christian and pre- Christian, speaks of twilight time, the time between the times, the enchanted moments at dawn and dusk when the veil between this world and the world beyond is thin.
We western Protestants don’t understand Eastern Orthodox icons very well, thinking of them in terms of worshipping images. However, they see icons as windows into eternity, thin places between us and God created by the prayers of the painter and the viewer.
Advent is a thin time, between autumn and winter, between Jesus’ first and second comings, when we may catch a glimpse of the shalom of the kingdom of priests. Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann writes that it “takes place between the clinging and the yearning.” In Advent the veil between worlds grows thin and the holy calls to us from the world to come. It is both the evening when we must relinquish what is dying that we cling to so we can open our hands to receive what is being born for which we are yearning.
Now here is my journal entry.
After a contemplative walk around the lake in the afternoon, I sat on a bench by the lake shore from 4:30 to 5:00 pm for centering prayer. Upon arousing, I realize the sun was almost at the horizon and that a chill with coming with the wind and shadow. I returned to the cabin to dress warmly and to get cushions for comfort and warmth on the bench. I sat facing southeast as the sun sunk below the horizon and the shadow crept across the lake and up the trees. I watched for the lighted cross on the other side of the lake to illuminate and soon realized the lights were on and the illumination of the cross would appear gradually as the sky and wood darkened. I remained in contemplative mode as the stars very slowly emerged in the darkening sky. First was a star directly above the cross, not much higher than the tree line. Then another star a ways to the left the same distance above the horizon. Then three fainter stars, on atop the other, in a vertical line almost exactly bisecting a horizontal between the two first stars. Little by little I became aware I was looking at Orion and the whole constellation came into focus as the sky filled with stars. I sat contemplating the grandeur until the chill drove me in at about 7:15 pm. I had some thought that the moon might also appear, but I never saw it.
English teacher and writer Leonard Beechy tells how in the year before his mother died she heard her father call to her during the night. She said his voice was so clear that she answered and struggled to get up. She spent her final year in a twilight that blended past and present. He wondered if she heard her father call again during that quiet December night when she died. Often when people come to the threshold between this life and the next they are suspended in a thin place where they get a glimpse of eternity. (Christian Century, November 17, 2009, p. 21) We can think of Advent as a thin place in the year in which we are suspended between the past and eternity, catching a glimpse of God’s hope for humanity.
Celtic spirituality, both Christian and pre- Christian, speaks of twilight time, the time between the times, the enchanted moments at dawn and dusk when the veil between this world and the world beyond is thin.
We western Protestants don’t understand Eastern Orthodox icons very well, thinking of them in terms of worshipping images. However, they see icons as windows into eternity, thin places between us and God created by the prayers of the painter and the viewer.
Advent is a thin time, between autumn and winter, between Jesus’ first and second comings, when we may catch a glimpse of the shalom of the kingdom of priests. Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann writes that it “takes place between the clinging and the yearning.” In Advent the veil between worlds grows thin and the holy calls to us from the world to come. It is both the evening when we must relinquish what is dying that we cling to so we can open our hands to receive what is being born for which we are yearning.
Now here is my journal entry.
After a contemplative walk around the lake in the afternoon, I sat on a bench by the lake shore from 4:30 to 5:00 pm for centering prayer. Upon arousing, I realize the sun was almost at the horizon and that a chill with coming with the wind and shadow. I returned to the cabin to dress warmly and to get cushions for comfort and warmth on the bench. I sat facing southeast as the sun sunk below the horizon and the shadow crept across the lake and up the trees. I watched for the lighted cross on the other side of the lake to illuminate and soon realized the lights were on and the illumination of the cross would appear gradually as the sky and wood darkened. I remained in contemplative mode as the stars very slowly emerged in the darkening sky. First was a star directly above the cross, not much higher than the tree line. Then another star a ways to the left the same distance above the horizon. Then three fainter stars, on atop the other, in a vertical line almost exactly bisecting a horizontal between the two first stars. Little by little I became aware I was looking at Orion and the whole constellation came into focus as the sky filled with stars. I sat contemplating the grandeur until the chill drove me in at about 7:15 pm. I had some thought that the moon might also appear, but I never saw it.
In that contemplative silence of a little over two and a half hours (with a brief interruption to dress for the chill), I had a sense of experiencing “waiting on the Lord.” At every moment all appeared static, motionless. Yet I was aware of the changes – first as the shadow crossed the lake and climbed the trees, then as the glow of the cross emerged, then as I could perceive the stars and recognize Orion, and finally as I knew the stars were moving. (I know it was the earth’s rotation, but fussing over mechanics misses the point.) By the time I returned to the cabin, the star of Orion’s foot that had been above the cross was now so far to right that Orion’s belt (three vertical stars) were even a bit to the right of the cross and no longer just above the tree line but well up in the sky with many stars between Orion and the horizon.
It all happened so imperceptibly and yet with such definitive force. Even when nothing seemed to be happening, the changes came. On my afternoon contemplative walk, paying attention to my steps was a rhythm outside my awareness of God. My centering prayer stayed forced and the half hour passed almost instantaneously. The interruption to dress for warmth shifted my focus from God to my body, and watching through the descent of dark at first seem to bring my attention to lake, trees, cross, sky, stars. But by the time my chilled body called me away I know I have been with God in the silence and descending dark.
The Psalmist (75:2) gives thanks to God for the exaltation of the righteous, even while the wicked boast, confident that God has appointed a time.
Praying for discernment and re-emerging of Central Christian Church also call for a thankful confidence that God has appointed a time even while the changes we wait for seem so long in coming. When God says, “wait for me,” God does not mean not to work, but to work faithfully following the discerned path toward re-emerging, even when that changes seem as gradual as the appearance of the stars at dusk.
Psalm 105:12 reminds us that we, too, are few and sojourners, of little account, yet called to be the prophets who speak so the voice of God can be heard.
Four centuries in Egypt surely seemed endless – no perceptible act of God. Forty years in the Wilderness dragged on and on and most who left Egypt did not enter the Promised Land, and those who did had been children when they left Egypt.
The cloud and fire of God’s presence led them, not with a disclosed plan but with a daily call to faith.
Psalm 135:15-18 remind us that the idols we make cannot speak the voice of God. Beware lest the plans we make clog up hearing from God in the silence of his intimate presence! (Psalm 135:2-3)
As a congregation we’re praying for discernment, hoping – expecting – believing God will speak. I’ve gone into silence for three days to listen for the voice of God. Sometimes when God finally speaks the message is painful, as is clear in 1 Samuel 3:1,11,17-18.
It seems that Eli knew that God had harsh words for him. When he recognizes and confirms that they are the words of the Lord, he does not resist or protest but relinquishes and submits, knowing that what seems best to God is what is really best.
So as we pray for discernment, we want God to tell us how Central Christian Church can re-emerge with vigor and grow in the twenty-first century. What if God has a painful message for us?
In verse 3 Samuel seems to be sleeping in the Holy Place, perhaps in front of the curtain separating the Holy of Holies. The Tabernacle seems to have been somewhat converted from a tent but not yet a temple as Solomon built, perhaps a little like the Tabernacle model made by the Mennonites in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Was Samuel acting as a sort of night watchmen? Was he doing Eli’s priestly duties now that Eli was blind and his sons not serving as faithful priests? Here is someone dwelling in the dwelling place of God (Psalm 48:1-2; 15:1-2). With the lamp still burning, the sign/light of God’s presence was there as God spoke, perhaps from behind the curtain that hid the Ark of the Covenant?
In verse 11, the Spanish Version Popular has “dolerán” (hurt or pain as a verb , grief or sadness as noun) where many English translations have “tingle.” The New Living Bible has “do something shocking” and The Message has “shake everyone up and get their attention.”
Verse 21 prompts me to pray, “O Lord, continue to speak, that we may have you Word as we proceed. May your voice be heard through the words I speak to this congregation.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)