Weekend in Boulder

4:04 pm, July 5, 2009

We’ve been in Colorado for about a week now, and have spent the weekend in Boulder. It has been great to have some family time with the Razavi’s, and we are staying at Michael and Laura Collins’ house. They are gracious and mellow hosts with a beautiful house on the side of a mountain above Boulder. The view from the back porch is amazing. I keep taking the same picture every day as if God were painting a new picture in the mountains and sky each time.

We will attend church at Origins tonight, which is actually the first time I will have attended Ramin’s church in the four years he has been out here. I’ve just always visited during the week it seems. I get to join in leading worship with the team tonight, which should prove a breath of fresh air to my soul. It will be a different context for me, doing lots of free form “Enter the Worship Circle” songs with Aaron Strumpel and others, including ex-Common Ground rock star Natalie Razavi.

Ramin and I have had some good conversation about church and various philosophies of ministry, including Institutional Church vs. Organic Church, House Church vs. Community, and more. I always feel encouraged and sharpened by our conversations, and am glad and excited to hear him talk of the health and mission of the church here. It is good to have kindred spirits.

Who and What

10:30 am, June 11, 2009

So who am I, and what am I to do? Those are the big questions for me this week. The latter is fairly mysterious, while the first one is more tangible, and I have a better handle for. I think I know most of who I am and who I was intended to be. What to do with that is another question. Specifically, how much should my actions be governed by God’s general call to humanity and how much should be filtered through who I am as I engage in the grand act of love? This remains unresolved for me, although I am leaning less toward individual personal filter than before I began this week. When presenting the question to Fr. Damien, he simplified and complicated it by stating, “God will tell you what to do.”

Maybe that is what it boils down to. Instead of me figuring out my life, asking God to direct my life. That sounds so simple and basic and merely Christian. But the question still stands for so many Christians because we have lost the art of listening to God. We read the “facts” and “principles” of Scripture and apply them to our lives, but we fail to seek the heart of God. To listen to His voice. To understand His desires. I am certainly guilty of this, and hope this week serves as a transition point. I could see this coming, as I’ve been slowly oozing this direction the last year or two, but I need a definitive turning point. I hope to say it was the week at the Abbey.

Now if I post this entry on a blog, I do not want you to think that I am questioning being a worship pastor or what I do. And yet, I must question everything. But what I do is not entirely bound by my vocation. And there are many different ways to be a worship pastor. So my personal questions are less “How do I get a job that fits me?” and more “How do I best function in the job I’m in?” and “How do I best steward my time outside of my job?” Starting the nonprofit this year is a great example of stepping beyond my comfort zone in an area that is not my sweet spot, yet God has planted a passion and purpose, and I am responding. Fortunately, I have some experience and knowledge that will assist the process, but there is much I am lacking as well. Much. It is a step of faith that demands this turning point in my life occur. I cannot rely only on who God has made me, but on the Maker Himself. He must provide insights to who I am and what I am to do. As Fr. Damien told me, “God will tell you what to do.” So I end this week as I began it, with a desire and conviction to seek to listen and understand.

Final Talk by Fr. Damien

11:24 am, June 11, 2009

Everybody has their own version of what perfect is, and it messes up the rest of us.

The evil in the world is someone else trying to write your story. Don’t impose your world on someone else. We need to let God write each of our stories.

You have to convict yourself of Jesus. He is not a theory.

Don’t let someone else write your story.

Heaven isn’t something you do, it is who you are.

I am exactly who I am supposed to be. And I am also a work in progress.

God will tell you what to do.

Thoughts from Merton

10:05 pm, June 10, 2009

I’ve been reading a bit from Merton’s New Seeds of Contemplation. It is painful for me at times, re-reading paragraphs and struggling to understand what he is saying. At times it feels like jumbled Zen jargon and is nothing more than words on a page. Other times I break through and begin to understand what he is unfolding for me. Here are some quotes that meant something to me, along with a prayer from Thoughts in Solitude.

“Contemplation is always beyond our own knowledge, beyond our own light, beyond systems, beyond explanations, beyond discourse, beyond dialogue, beyond our own self. To enter into the realm of contemplation one must in a certain sense die: but this death is in fact the entrance into a higher life.”

“Contemplation is also the response of a call: a call from Him Who has no voice, and yet Who speaks in everything that is, and Who, most of all, speaks in the depths of our own being: for we ourselves are His.”

“Contemplation is carried away by Him into His own realm, His own mystery and His own freedom.” It is, you might say, an invitation to Heavenly vision as opposed to a worldview.

“Our external, superficial self is not eternal, not spiritual… Contemplation is precisely this awareness that this “I” is really “not I” and the awakening of the unknown “I” that is beyond observation and reflection and is incapable of commenting upon itself.”

“For the contemplative there is no cogito (“I think”) and no ergo (“therefore”) but only SUM, I AM. Not in the sense of a futile assertion of our individuality as ultimately real, but in the humble realization of our mysterious beings as persons in whom God dwells, with infinite sweetness and inalienable power.”

“It is not we who choose to awaken ourselves, but God Who chooses to awaken us.”

“Every expression of the will of God is in some sense a “word” of God and therefore a “seed” of new life. The ever-changing reality in the midst of which we live should awaken us to the possibility of an uninterrupted dialogue with God. By this I do not mean continuous “talk,” or a frivolously conversational form of affective prayer which is sometimes cultivated in convents, but a dialogue of love and of choice. A dialogue of deep wills.” This is huge. I’ve never thought of prayer in this way, as a “dialogue of love and of choice.” I choose heaven every day, every moment. As I engage heaven, I tell God something. When I choose hell, I tell God something else. I speak to God not just in words, but in the choices I make every day.

“In all situations of life the “will of God” comes to us not merely as an external dictate of impersonal law but above all as an interior invitation of personal love.”

“By consenting to His will with joy and doing it with gladness I have His love in my heart, because my will is now the same as His love and I am on the way to becoming what He is, Who is Love.”

“The only true joy on earth is to escape from the prison of our own false self, and enter by love into union with the Life Who dwells and sings within the essence of every creature and in the core of our own souls.”

“A tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying Him. It ‘consents’ so to speak, to His creative love… The more a tree is like itself, the more it is like Him. If it tried to be like something else which it was never intended to be, it would be less like God and therefore it would give Him less glory.”

“Our vocation is not simply to be, but to work together with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny…we should not passively exist, but actively participate in His creative freedom.”

“The secret of my full identity is hidden in Him. He alone can make me who I am, or rather who I will be when at last I fully begin to be. But unless I desire this identity and work to find it with Him and in Him, the work will never be done… Not to accept and love and do God’s will is to refuse the fullness of my existence.”

Prayer from Thoughts in Solitude:
“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”

Sabbath

12:10 am, June 10, 2009

I think I have been on a road of transformation the last year or two, and because I am at the beginning of this journey, I haven’t known how to talk about or process it. This week God is giving me language for it.

The conviction I am experiencing is summarized in this line from Dangerous Act of Worship: “If we don’t lift our heads to see God in worship, we can’t see what God wants to show us, which includes our neighbor.”

I have lost the habit of listening to God for others. Sure, I’ll listen for the church as a whole, but not individual people. Gone are the days when I would look out on a Sunday and ask God who to pray for and why. Seeking out people after the service to share a word of encouragement or pray. I want to recapture that. I want to navigate to a place where I tap back into the interpersonal intercession of the prophetic. I want to lift my head in worship to look back at others and know what is needed.

Some thoughts from Dangerous Act of Worship…

Sabbath keeping practices:
1. Awaken us to God.
2. Cause us to confess our self-absorbed lives
3. Deepen our Christian life
4. Give fresh vision
5. Remind us of who we are, who our neighbors are

To Sabbath:
1. Say “no” to one’s self and agenda, schedule, etc.
2. Say “yes” to God and the world He has given.

A Few Ways to Sabbath:
• Be quiet. Slow down. Be still.
• Listen to God. Read. Pray. Hike. Meditate.
• Be the church. Be together. Deepen relationships.
• Play.
• Meditate and consider the forgotten, the poor, the needy.

Weakness

10:00 am, June 10, 2009

Fr. Damien, the Guest Master, held a conference this morning at 8:30, and had some great insights on identity and our weaknesses. Here are my notes:

We need to admit that we have weaknesses so that we do not cast aside others with weakness.

Everybody has a defect. If I didn’t have one, I wouldn’t need anyone to help me get rid of it. Without my defects, I wouldn’t know Jesus. If we all admitted we were sinners, we would find Jesus.

I have a choice. To be who I am, or to be something I am not.

I have to acknowledge that I don’t know who I am, and my defects remind me that there is Someone who knows who I am. He knows my name.

No matter what God wanted, Jesus always said, “Yes.” I need to live the same.

All of us think that we are independent. That we have to be good enough. But that is as stupid as trying to eat an apple to be like God.

As long as I am the center of my life, there is no room for Jesus.

Everybody hides a treasure (their defect) from the world because they think they will get respect from others if they keep it hidden. But it is not until we let go of it that we can be free and know true poverty.

The only person you are supposed to impress is God.

Jesus didn’t bring us philosophy, but identity. And this identity is Christ, and cannot be a full reality until I die to myself.

The Hike

7:52 am, June 10, 2009

Yesterday a one-hour hike turned into three.

It began on paved road that turned to dirt road that turned to forest path that turned to forest. I took my time, enjoying both nature and being an amateur photographer. I took over 100 pictures, and feel confident about 2-3 of them, and then another dozen are okay. As I walked I was always swirling, looking for a way to frame a shot.

When the path diverged, I went with my impulse and what looked most inviting. I stumbled upon wide-open fields, a brick cabin and lakes. Then I came to a lake that was bound on one end by a dam, the top of which was about 14” wide. So of course I had to cross. Swatting bugs all the way, I made it across with little trouble, and with renewed energy set off into the forest again. Before I knew it, the trail had tapered away and I was without a path. I thought it might pick up again and pressed forward. And around. And up. And over.

Like most men, I wasn’t lost; I had just changed my destination. And I decided the new course was…up. Surely the higher I got the more clearly I would see the lay of the land and maybe even spot the Abbey. The more I climbed the more I realized how unprepared I was for this type of a hike. Street shoes, lugging a book and journal, and pockets full of nonsense. At least I had brought a bottle of water with me, and drank it a third at a time. After ascending about 200 feet, I neared the top. Then I saw it. Wood with a carved 90 degree angle. Something man-made! As I stepped into the landing, an old, rugged cross pointed the way to a clear path. I pulled out my map, and determined that I was at “Cross Knob.”

I had the map all along, but did not pull it out until I was in the web of trails. I didn’t have a compass, and could never get my bearings until Cross Knob. I then used that marker to guide the way home.

The whole thing got me thinking about the obvious analogies. As we traverse this life, the Holy Spirit and the Bible are our map and compass. If we have one but not the other we can easily get lost. But even then, we often have it reversed, and view the Bible as our map and the Holy Spirit as our compass. This causes us to default to legalism, and instead of seeking the Spirit, we seek spiritual confirmation of the direction with which we are convicted. To make matters worse, many Christian circles and churches have lost the art of listening to the Holy Spirit. We find ourselves truly lost with the conviction that we are most right.

I am personally guilty of a similar sin. I have used my self-identity to map the life I am to live. By this I am referring to my talents, gifts and personality traits. I say that this is the way that God has made me, then live how I want. I use my knowledge of Scripture as my compass, validating the path I want to take by arguing that it is not sin, and perhaps even consistent with God’s desires.

But what would it look like for me to die to myself? What if I started with God, and ended with self? I hope to make this transition. I want to learn to seek the Spirit to discover what the map of my life looks like, and to test it by the True North of Scriptures. Perhaps I will find myself more outside my comfort zone, and more alive than ever.

As I write this and reflect, I can see how I have taken baby steps in the last year in this direction, and hope in the next year to plunge forward into this forest.

The end of my hike reveals the back up plan, which is also the original plan. When I am lost, look up, travel up, and fix my eyes on the cross. The way of sacrifice is the way home. The best path is the way of Jesus.

Statue

Grass

Silo Handle

Truck and Barn

Two Trees

Lone Tree

Blurred Trees

Listen and Understand

11:45 am, June 9, 2009

I have not begun to read anything yet, and want to breathe and rest a bit before I engage at that level. I plan to take a long walk after lunch, and take some pictures of God’s creation. I want to soak in this place where so many have heard from God. The Guest Master, Fr. Damien, was sharing this morning of people that have come here, either to be monks or for retreat, and the many stories of God speaking to His people. The theme of his talk this morning was that each one of us is uniquely made by God. We have been carefully constructed to be the way that we are. And yet, we often get so busy that we do not listen to the One that made us. He compared us to Helen Keller, who was deaf and blind. And yet, she learned to listen, to understand, to communicate, and to achieve. I am uniquely made. Somebody knows me by name, made me, and is talking to me. I need to work hard to listen and understand.

We often have only a Kindergarten faith that tells us to try to be good, don’t commit sin, and then we’ll win the lottery. But the reality is that God and heaven are a mystery that is being revealed, and we should strive to understand. Church has to be an opportunity for understanding, not an obligation.

So I am here this week to listen and understand. I have an earthly understanding; Jesus has a heavenly understanding. I must learn his language and strive to understand what He is saying about heaven and His kingdom.

Presence and Prose

11:20 am, June 9, 2009

I got up this morning just in time for breakfast. In the main dining area, they play tapes of sermons and book readings. I chose to eat in the side dining room by myself in silence. As I sat there, a monk, (I presume to be the chaplain), approached me and asked if I was Jonathan. “No,” I answered, and he went on his way.

I suppose a better answer would have been, “No, and I never will be.” I will never be my brother Jonathan, who mirrored my dad in uncanny ways. I will never be the compassionate evangelist. I will never be liked when people meet me for the first time. Jonathan’s strengths are many of my weaknesses. But I have strengths too. And I must learn to be content with my strengths. Content in not being my brother. Content in not being my father. And I think for the most part, I am. I think I have turned a corner in accepting myself and appreciating myself for who God has made me to be. The more I understand myself, the more I begin to understand what the hell God was thinking when he made me.

I was very encouraged a few weeks ago when God had me reading in Acts 15. Paul and Barnabas were sent from the Council at Jerusalem to deliver a letter to the Gentiles telling them that they did not need to be circumcised. Good news indeed. Along with them, Judas and Silas were sent from Jerusalem to verify the letter and encourage the church. Verse 32 in NET reads, “Both Judas and Silas, who were prophets themselves, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with a long speech.”

Judas and Silas were men that could be trusted. They were men of truth. They were reliable. And the way that they encouraged and strengthened their brothers wasn’t through hugs and warm words, it was through presence and prose. I read this, and it gives me hope. Hope and comfort that there is a place for me in the body of Christ. That I can be myself and it can actually be beneficial to the body. The best version of myself can reveal hidden compassion and deep inspiration. I find security in this knowledge, and want to continue to explore and hone my strengths and continue to discover how to best use them for God’s love being made known.

Day One: The Ride

10:45 am, June 9, 2009

Monday morning began slowly and comfortably.  I had to finish dealing with some lingering details and pack, but there was no rush.  By 10:45 I was packed, had rigged my bicycle panniers to the motorcycle with bungee cords and optimism, and was ready to ride.

After hitting the road, I quickly stopped after less than 10 minutes as the pannier bags were about to fall off the back of the bike.  I fundamentally changed the way that they were fastened to the bike, and was finally confident that it would hold.  Then, I hit the road for a long…almost out of gas.  Okay, so I stopped to get gas.  Then.  Then I was off to the open road.  Just me and my 1982 Honda Nighthawk 650 and two firmly fastened bicycle pannier bags.  Dressed in a leather jacket with body armor and full face helmet, I was determined to safe, and to enjoy the long ride ahead of me.  The sober reality of my trip hit me when I glanced over at 20-25 motorcycle riders assembled together on the other side of the road.  Was there a convention?  Were they a gang?  Was it a party?  Then I noticed where they were.  A funeral home.  Okay, be careful on the bike.  I get it.

Finally, I cleared Indianapolis and Greenwood, and was out on the open road.  No highways for me.  Too scary and fast.  Just the backroad of US 31 south all the way to my destination in Kentucky.  About an hour into the ride it hit me.  I was free.  Free from all responsibilities.  Work, parenting, chores, everything.  I didn’t have to do anything!  This was the beginning of my sabbatical.  I smiled.  Then I laughed.  I mean really laughed out loud.  It felt good, and I was happy.

I stopped for lunch in Scottsburg, IN at a small Mexican restaurant, Sante Fe.  It was authentic and tasty, and I was there long enough for the Mexican music to loop.  I need the time to rest and stretch.  I had underestimated how difficult a 4-hour ride can be on such a small motorcycle.  But I pressed on and arrived well before dinner.

I unpacked and took pictures of the grounds and my room.  I read my Isaiah 50 and 55 excerpts a few times, then went to dinner, orientation, and Compline.  It is a silent retreat, so you rarely hear anyone speaking, except for time in the chapel, such as Compline, which was mostly sung by the monks.  I ended up heading back to my room after, and went straight to bed.  I woke up 5 different times, but still slept about 10 hours.

Adam on his motorcycle

The Panniers

Lunch