My Spiritual Rule

These are the elements that make up my Spiritual Rule. The bold lettered ones are those which I find particularly stretching right now.

• Pray the Hours

  • Built in:

    • Poetry

    • Scripture

    • Prayer

    • Meditation

• Practice Submission (to discomfort, To Elaine’s guidance and to spiritual directors)

• Nightly Devotions and prayers with the kids (Worship, Prayer)

• Pray with Elaine nightly (Examination and confession)

• Attend to eating

  • Eat breakfast

  • Whole grain foods

  • Fast Fridays

• Take a Sabbath weekly

  • Quarterly retreats

• Study - PSALM

  • Poetry

  • Scripture

  • Art

    • Art Appreciation

    • Creation

      • Music practice

      • Painting

  • Literature

  • Meditation

    • People watching

    • Contemplation

• Practice Hospitality

  • At Coffeehouse

  • At Home

  • In spiritual direction

  • In visitation

  • Live ecologically responsibly

    • Eliminate carbon footprint

    • Recycle

• Celebration

  • Romance and sex

    • Dates

    • Sitters

  • Music and dancing

  • Painting

  • Worship in other traditions - celebrating communion when permissible

Spiritual Directors

Qualities I look for in a spiritual director:

• Takes a wide view of christianity, like Foster’s streams
• Takes this thing of spiritual growth seriously
• Has a warmth of hospitality
• Doesn’t loose interest - ever
• Available
• Someone versed in the disciplines who can help me navigate them and challenge me to more without overwhelming.
• Something of a contemplative
• A dreamer who can help make God’s dreams for me reality. One who can dream with God about who I will become.
• A good listener
• Not afraid to take authority, to require something of me as needed.
• Zossima like
• Appreciates the mystics and is literate in the Spiritual Classics

He will turn my board meeting into dancing

My first experience with a church board was did not instill much faith in the system. I was on staff as children’s ministry director at a contentious church. The Youth Pastor and I decided to take up an invitation from the Senior Pastor to sit in on a board meeting. It was the first and last board meeting either of us went to of our own accord. They first vehemently denied the pastor any options the pastor gave to assist with his retirement, they didn’t want to encourage him to say any longer. They then dug into me and continued to rake me over the coals for an hour. I was just beginning my experiments with The Disciplines then and was in the midst of an extended fast. That I maintained my cool and sat in submission to the beating had to have been because the disciplines had placed me squarely in Grace. Nothing but grace can account for it. I went home and prayed psalm 119 several times, it was all I could do for solace.

Thinking about guidance brought those memories and feelings up again. I believe this is not the way a board should operate. Instead of viewing themselves as the empowered representatives of the congregation, I believe they are men and women chosen for their maturity and willingness to seek the will of God. Board meetings should be worship, times devoted to the discipline of corporate guidance and firmly rooted in the celebration of who we are together in Christ.

In the West, especially in America, we have been acclimated to Democracy, even to the point of seeing its spread as our sacred mission. Our two party system of representative governance provides us with checks and balances, but it also provides us with winners and losers. Each election sees half the country demoralized and the other half victorious. This is not how the church should operate.

Corinne McLaughlin suggests that a “spiritual” approach to politics would seek a synthesis of ideas. She suggests that synthesis is more than compromise, because in compromise both sides loose something. “A spirit of goodwill towards those with opposing views, a win/win rather than win/lose approach, a release of self-righteousness, and a compassionate, healing spirit are the keys to this new politics.”¹

Of all places a healing, compassionate spirit should be found it should be in the church. The discipline of corporate guidance provides us with the key. Instead of Robert’s Rules which are built on the win/lose model, I would like to take a system like The Handbook For Consensus Building² and infuse it with liturgy.

Guidance is a corporate discipline so it is appropriate that it fit in the context of worship. Foster points out that when sending out Paul and Barnabas as missionaries, The church at Antioch came together in prayer and worship. “Having become a prepared people, the call of God arose out of their corporate worship: ‘Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.”³

I envision a spiritual rule for board meetings. Like Foster says this must be in the “organic and functional sense.”⁴ It cannot be empty form or cold corporate policy to be any different from the contentious politicking of the past. The Short Guide for Consensus building suggests stages such as convening, assessing, discussing, deciding and implementing. Building into that the liturgical elements of convocation, worship, meditation and celebration create a mystical format for a spiritual body to use.

Celebration is important. It intersects with guidance in the organizational because we must begin with the joyful understanding of our identity, that we are one, the body. Jesus commanded that we love one another, “that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”⁵

For example, as I read The Divine Embrace, I must confess I was put off by Webber’s mostly negative view of the places his stone “skipped across the water of history.” He spent much time in the first half of the book, “rescuing” spirituality from this danger and that.⁶ His melody had a harsh tone in my ear. This is partly because Foster’s Streams of Living Water still plays there. Foster celebrates each of the traditions before touching on the dangers and so has greatly impacted my thinking. Both authors offer true guidance to me, but the celebratory style of Foster (and the second half of Webber) was much more gratifying to me.

So it is as we gather to seek God’s face. Without celebrating him and each other, we risk turning one another off to hearing true guidance.

Celebration is a powerful thing. This week I spent three quarters of an hour dancing before God on the platform of my church! Discretion is advised here, I signed a paper stating I would not embarrass the Assemblies of God and if any one saw me dancing they would be embarrassed for me! Needless to say I was alone. Most of the music wasn’t of the Christian sub-culture suggested by Calhoun in her exercise⁷, but it was amazing how“Tell Me Something Good” by Rufus can usher one into God’s story of love.

How wonderful it is when celebration can happen with others and not just alone. How I long for the Spirit of celebration to permeate my next board meeting!

1 McLaughlin, Corinne. "Beyond Right and Left." The Center For Visionary Leadership. 2004. 20 Dec. 2007 <http://www.visionarylead.org/articles/beyond_lr.htm>.

2 Susskind, Lawrence E. "Short Guide to Consensus Building." Harvard Public Disputes Program. 9 Aug. 1999. MIT. 20 Dec. 2007 <http://web.mit.edu/publicdisputes/practice/cbh_ch1.html>.

3 Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline. San Fransisco: HarperCollins. 1980. Pp. 177-178.

4 Foster. 175.

5 John 15:11 (NIV)

6 Webber, Robert E. The Divine Embrace. Grand Rapids: Baker Books. 2006. Pp 31, 57, 79, 101.

7 Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook. Doweners Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press. 2005. Pg. 28 (exercise 1).

submission

My wife is really good at making me do things that are difficult for me to do. Twice this week I have had to submit to her in things that I had no great desire to do. In both cases she told me what I needed to do. I am afraid my initial response was irritation and rudeness, but as I sat there in the silence of her anger, I realized that I needed the discipline of submission today. I needed to serve and she was making sure that I did. O God help me to always understand your whispered calls to service and when I miss it, allow me to hear the not so whispered reminders coming from Elaine!

Today is my Birthday.

I am thirty. wow.

Service and hospitality

“Self Righteous service comes through human effort. It expends immense amounts of energy calculating and scheming how to render the service. Sociological charts and surveys are devised so we can “help those people.” True service comes from a relationship deep inside. We serve out of whispered promptings, divine urgings. Energy is expended but it is not the frantic energy of the flesh.”¹

Hospitality gives service a personality. It is warm and emotional in its connection to the basic human needs. As the disciple learns to understand his or her own dependence on God for basic needs, he and she also learns the beauty of providing for those needs in others. In essence hospitality is extending the borders of the heart, of the family to encompass the neighbor and stranger, the enemy and the friend.

“Our ‘dwelling pace’ may be physical: a room, apartment, or house. It may also be a metaphor for mental and motional ‘space.’ We can invite others into our inner world of thoughts and feelings, sharing gifts of the heart and mind. Gracious inner space gives others room to play, question and converse; room to be heard and understood; room to reveal themselves as they choose.”

I can’t understand the image of Christ as stranger. How could he come to those beloved disciples on the road to Emmaus unrecognized? How could he be naked, poor, imprisoned, and we not see him there? How could he, my dear heart, be the stinking, cursing, drunk and homeless? Could he be my neighbor John who riding is bicycle home from the bar, at two AM, went over the handlebars and broke his nose? Could it have been Jesus I drove home with tears in his eyes and pain in his body? It is hard for me to see Jesus there, not because I don’t think he would stoop so low, but because I love him and don’t want to see blood pour from his nose or tears from his eyes. What would it mean to see my Jesus in all those around me? Is he there in people I know, and who don’t even know him, or just in strangers? Does he visit in the familiar as well as the strange? Perhaps he does, perhaps his incarnation is both in us as his hands and feet and in the fleshly suffering of those around us. Perhaps his paschal mystery continues in all who are hurting, naked and abandoned, just as his advent happens in us as we engage them in service and hospitality.

Seeing our neighbors and strangers as Jesus can be difficult precisely because we cannot see Jesus as coming to us in the form of a sinner.

“What does it take to see to see in every other person a sister or brother? If we cannot truly accept our weaknesses as well as our gifts, we will be unable to love others in their brokenness and giftedness.

“We are speaking again of humility. A humble heart is hospitable. It accepts people as they are - a mix of familiar and unfamiliar, good and bad. Acceptance leaves others free to be themselves in our dwelling place. It does not require them to be like us. Our guest may be friend or total stranger, mentally impaired or emotionally estranged, different in race, faith, social circumstance, or political perspective. Hospitality means giving all guests the freedom to reveal themselves as they choose. A guest should not need to fear personal attack, rejection, or conversion efforts on the part of the host. Freedom is the medium of human exchange in true hospitality.”²

God is the great Host, his hospitality for us is unmatched. There are beautiful days when I am aware of God’s grace pervading my day - those times when he lays out a feast for my soul. I have experience reading books and feeling warmth fill my body, or praying the psalms and weeping at his goodness to me, or walking the fields at my grandparents’ farm knowing he was there ministering to me in the breeze. I am left with an overwhelming sense of gratitude � overwhelming in it’s emotion, humility and a small sadness. Thompson describes it in her travels in Scotland, and in her friend’s trip to Mexico, as they received the hospitality of the locals. “My friend felt a mixture of wonder, gratitude guilt and humility.”³ That is just what I feel when God lavishes his grace on me.

Maslow meets Johari

I have often wondered how to get people to open up, to explore the depths of our relationship together and our relationship with God. Could it be that I haven’t given enough room to those around me? Have I not invited them in to a house of hospitality even when I visit their houses or talk at the restaurant?

What if the way to get people to open up is by opening up yourself. This is what the Johari window describes as self disclosure. We can also provide room by meeting the felt needs, working our way up the Maslow pyramid, giving people room to hunger for more - more us, more God. A time may then come when they will gladly give up those needs to become a deeper disciple and know their true fulfillment comes from God. He has a way of overwhelming Maslow’s pyramid.

---

1 Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline. HarperCollins, 1978. Pg 128.

2 Thompson, Marjorie J. Soul Fest. Westminster John Knox Press. 1995. Pg134.

3 Thompson Pg126.

Formational Reading

"When we read a book [or a blog post], three intrinsic ... rules govern our study. The intrinsic rules may, in the beginning, necessitate three separate reading but in time can be done concurrently. The first reading involves understanding the book: what is the author saying? The second reading involves interpreting the book: what does the author mean? The third reading involves evaluating the book: is the author right or wrong? Most of us tend to do the third reading right away and often never do the first and second readings at all. We give a critical analysis of a book before we understand what it says. We judge a book to be right or wrong before we interpret its meaning. The wise writer of Ecclesiastes says that there is a time for every matter under heaven, and the time for critical analysis of a book comes after careful understanding and interpretation."

-Richard J Foster,
Celebration of Discipline
Chapter 5: The Discipline of Study

What a wonderful world

This morning as I was driving to our ministerial meeting I was full of the wonder of life. I said to God, "I am so glad you are in the world with me. You make it worth living," and other such romantic chit chat. Then my thoughts turned a little darker. How would I live with out him? What would my life be like if there was no God?

Today we went to a memorial service for Tom, Elaine's uncle. He committed suicide Thanksgiving day. He was an atheist. As I reflected on it, he really lived what he believed too. His life is how I would probably live if I didn't have my Divine Love.

Tom was a musician and a free spirit. He could pick up and go anywhere, love anyone, fulfill any apatite. He loved many women and kept them as friends when no longer lovers. He enjoyed his drugs and alcohol until two years ago, and why not? His friends at the memorial service were saddened by their loss of a truly unique and honest human being. They had only their memories to keep him alive.

In a way he is heroic. He looked death in the eyes and met it on his own terms. He had no fear of death, it was life that had become fearful. He lived his life well, just how I would hope to live without a God.

I say to God again, "Thank you for being here with me, for the grace of drawing me to you. Thank you for the grace to love you, the grace to stare life in the face with out fear. Thank you for the grace to gaze at death with hope. Please Lord, grant that grace to the wonderful bohemian friends that are mourning the loss of Tom. Amen"

Buffeted by grace

The fierce wind battered the tent fabric around me. I sat in the corner keeping the tent from becoming a kite, half hoping that this would be the day I fly. I sat hunched, the collar of my trench coat meeting the brim of my hat. My eyes peered through the crack toward the tent floor, at crystal of frozen coffee where it had spilled scalding. I spent two hours of my experiment in solitude in this way.¹

Shortly into my experience of chill. I examined my thoughts, I found that my mind was wandering to attempts to put words to the descriptions of the wind, the cold, the frozen coffee. I pulled out my rosary and fingered the beads, the Jesus prayer bringing focus back to my mind.

Bonhoeffer says, “Do not ask ‘How shall I pass this on?’ but ‘What does it say to me?’ Then ponder the Word long in your heart until it has gone right into you and taken possession of you.”²

That quote from Soul Feast has stuck with me. Too often my initial response to my conversation with God is, How am I to relate this? How do I describe this? But the discipline of solitude begs silence, begs secrecy. “Without silence there is no solitude.”³ Even though I was greatly tempted to categorized, describe and catalogue my experience, I found once I was with people I had a reticence to speak at all. It is with some difficulty that a day removed from the experience of Solitude I now turn to description.

So there I sat with my rosary beads, “Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” The touch of the beads and the recollection of prayer tuned out for a moment the writer in my mind, the cold, and the clutter of thought. I finished making my way around the decades and returned to allow the distractions of my surroundings to speak to me.

The overwhelming image, as the wind howled and tent flapped and fluttered, was that of Elijah hidden in the cleft of the rock as God passed by.

The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by."

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.⁴

“What if God was in the terrible wind?” I thought as my body leaned back into the wind and the billowing fabric embraced me. “What if this thin nylon is all that separated me from the real presence of God in the wind?” I imagined that the only reason I was inside the tent was that the fabric protected my body from being vaporized by his Holy Presence. “Wouldn’t it be better,” I thought, “to go out there and be vaporized just to see him face to face?” In the tent it certainly sounded and felt like a mountain shattering kind of wind was whipping me across Saginaw bay, but the Lord was not in the wind.

After two hours of wind and below freezing temperature⁵, I felt like giving in and giving up. I asked God what I should do. I looked longingly out the vents at the top of the tent, but not for long, the wind froze my face and blew me back. I heard him say in my heart, “Go in and enjoy my warmth.” I did not dare question whether it was my imagination or if it was truly his voice - I ran for the church.

Even before I could make myself a double English toffee latte, I was overwhelmed with a release. It was a climax. I entered into God hard after my fast from shelter. He was the warmth around me, he was the walls that kept the wind out. He was mine. If I had a fire place I would have perhaps calmed gently but instead I cried out to him and sucked the heat from my coffee even as I sucked life from His breast. I sat and listened. Silence is the essence of solitude.

In taking away shelter, I stood in solidarity with the homeless, going without another of the basic needs at the bottom of the Maslow Hierarchy. I wondered through chattering teeth what the man, a friend of a parishioner, who lives in a tent and works in the sugar factory, was doing this cold night. Has he found an affordable apartment yet? Is he freezing with me?

Simplicity strips away the romantic notions of the disciplined life. I imagined myself enjoying a few hours sitting in the middle of the tent with a cup of coffee surrounded by candles. The wind knocked over my coffee, I had to sit in the corner struggling against the wind, and the candles wouldn’t light. All the amenities stripped away, I found raw solitude. In simplicity I sat before the Lord, fully aware that I was dependent, uncomfortable and lost without him. Simplicity makes independence a dread thought.

Simplicity challenges me to the core. Do I give away the MacBook I bought for my studies? Should I have bought the new printer to go with it? Simplicity also demands that I not cast myself in a good light, so here I confess my extravagance, my printer is a color laser printer. I am not comfortable owning these hip and useful things.

Both solitude and simplicity are dear and painful to me. They stretch and buffet my soul. They answer the prayer I have prayed with John Donne, “Batter my heart, three person’d God.”

1 I thought I would see what would happen if I took away another element from the base of Maslow’s pyramid, so in my experiment I pitched a tent in the corner of the church yard furthest from all action. I didn’t stake it in so my body was all that kept if from flying away.

2 Thompson, Marjorie J. Soul Feast. Westminster John Knox Press. Pg. 26.

3 Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline. Harper Collins. Pg. 98.

4 1 Kings 19:11-13 (NIV)

5 According to weather.com, the wind speed was 29 mph, and temp 28°F (wind-chill brought it to 14°F)

Frogs

This morning Foster went around with a pencil as a wand turning us all into frogs. When Ella turned him into a frog, he had a frog performance worthy of home video.

He reminded me of Richard Foster's treatment of study.
"The handiwork of the Creator can speak to us and teach us if we will listen. Martin Buber tells the story of the rabbi who went to a pond every day at dawn to learn "the song with which the frogs praise God."

Adventures in Fasting part 12

After two helpings I feel quite stuffed. God’s goodness is too much for me to handle, I cannot contain him. My gut might just split with his goodness, and yet he offers me desert and coffee.

Adventures in Fasting part 11

I have never been so expectant for a meal. I am impatiently bouncing in the kitchen trying to keep warm as the smells swirl around me. Dinner is getting late. God may this feast be like partaking in you, bread of life. As we eat, may we participate in our abundance. You have provided greatly and now as I eat, I join you in your abundance and love.

Adventures in Fasting part 10

We’re at Grandma’s house and the turkey is in the oven, the green-bean casserole is going into the convection oven and my saliva glands are going overtime. My sense of desperation has multiplied. “O God come to my assistance, Lord make haste to help me!” I am so hungry for you Lord! I love you so much. Bread of life, fill me!

Adventures in Fasting part 9

Normally I run hot. I don't get to wear sweaters and I sweat like crazy. I just noticed that I'm chilly. My body is apparently needing to do something beside warm me up.

Adventures in Fasting part 8

My family is eating breakfast now. I find my thoughts are far from God and Spirit, instead I have a running countdown to dinner at 2pm.

Of course, as with all such revelations, I can let this remind me to go back to my source, to my true bread. Back to breath prayer and Divine Office.

Adventures in Fasting part 7

The next day:

Well, my body clock has reset. I don't normally eat breakfast, so I'm pretty comfortable this morning. I am looking forward to my break-fast though: Thanksgiving dinner. While not strictly an event on the traditional church calendar, it is, or should be at least, a spiritual feast for Americans.

Winner notes in Mudhouse Sabbath that early Christian tradition pairs fasting with feasting. In order to prepare for a feast, it is good to know hunger.

"Eastern Orthodox Christian communities, it seems, understand an inhabit fasting best. During Lent, for example, they completely abstain from all meat, dairy, and egg products. the Orthodox also fast on Sunday mornings, refraining even from drinking a cup of coffee until they have partaken of Holy Communion, feeding on the body and blood of Christ before they indulge in a croissant or a stack of pancakes."

Cliff has a service this morning, but though he's preaching on Christ as the bread of life, they aren't celebrating communion. I told him if he was, "I'm so there."

Adventures in Fasting part 6

As the close of day draws near, I really want to eat. We went to a Thanksgiving Eve service. I was somewhat disappointed that I wasn't able to make a bigger splash for the coffeehouse at the service. I was going to bring some brochures and I forgot. I ran back to our church to get them and got back about ten min late. After the service there were deserts, I had only a peppermint tea. Going home my disappointment turned to being down. I overwhelmingly wanted to fill that void with food.

At home I put the kids to bed and prayed compline with them.

Adventures in Fasting part 5

Why do I smell pizza?

Adventures in Fasting part 4

I am finding it hard to spell.

The Apostles' Creed

I believe in God, the Father almighty,

creator of heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.

He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit

and born of the Virgin Mary.

He suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died, and was buried.

He descended into hell.

On the third day he rose again.

He ascended into heaven

and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

the holy catholic Church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and the life everlasting.

Amen.

Webber tells that the Apostles' Creed was used as a weapon for Spiritual warfare. In its use as a baptismal formula it was meant to steel the new Christian against Gnostic heresy. I find its origin in baptism interesting. We tend to focus on the testimony of the convert, while this privative rite focuses on God's story, we testify to his work in the world as well as our lives. I wonder if I can use the ancient rite to baptize some time, or will it freak people out too much? Originally, Hippolytus tells us, after being asked, "Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty?" the one being baptized should reply "I believe" and be immersed immediately. Then he is asked the same for creedal articles about the son and the spirit, being immersed in their statement of belief in each. This trinity of immersion provides a single baptism into the Triune God.

Adventures in Fasting part 3

Strong hunger pains have surfaced now. I have a glass of watter to drown the complaints. I have also started a breath prayer, Bread of life, fill me. Somewhere a long the line it turned to Bread of life, thank you.

Adventures in Fasting part 2

I find myself thinking about snacking. I imagine what I could eat, even relish in it as a daydream and then remember I'm not eating today. Ella keeps asking me for desert or a snack.

Today, for good or bad, I am not very sympathetic.

"But, I'm hungry... I'm starving."

I tell her what I told my stomach at lunch time. "Calm down, you'll be all right."

Richard has been on my heart as I fast today. When Jesus came down from the mount of transfiguration, his disciples were trying to cast out a devil. "And he said unto them, This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting."

Richard has been struggling with addiction and wants out of its grasp. I listened to his story rejoicing in what God was doing in him, but felt that he might not realize how much grace he needs. So I pray for him, and fast. God give him wisdom, grace and a heart after you!

Adventures in Fasting part 1

The effects of my pre-thanksgiving fast have started to take effect. My spoiled child has started grumbling, not because I am really hungry, but because it has come to food at this time. I tell it to "settle down," and move on to pray my midmorning prayer. "God come to my assistance, Lord make haste to help me."

This morning was breakfast with the church people. It wasn't much of a problem though, I sometimes don't order anything for myself in order to be able to afford breakfast for the kids. They were off of school for Thanksgiving break so they were with me. Aside from Ella asking if I was going to eat, I didn't have any questions. Ella has been concerned about me.

I made them some Spaghetti Oh's - Cars shaped. When I got the kids set up to eat, I went to my room to pray and write. Ella came in and asked, "Daddy, what are you going to eat?"

"I'm not going to eat. I'm all right."

"That's OK," she said, rubbing my back, "You pray your good morning prayer." She went back to eat.

When she was done she came back and wanted to pray the noontime prayer with me.

Answer to those who question Barack Obama's Christian Experience

BarackObama.com | Obama Has Never Been A Muslim, And Is a Committed Christian

Open Letter from Religious Leaders Supporting Obama

The Hope of History: From a Garden to a City - Essay posted 12 November 2007 - The Journey with Jesus

The Hope of History: From a Garden to a City - Essay posted 12 November 2007 - The Journey with Jesus: "This hope for an Ultimate Cosmic Correction is not only a Christian hope. I think it's an innately human hope rooted in our sense of and longing for a Future and Final justice. For every Kurd gassed by Saddam Hussein, for every girl in Darfur gang-raped by janjaweed militia, and for every homeless person who wanders America's streets. I think this is why Psalm 98 for this week summons not only 'all the earth' (98:3,4) but all creation (98:7,8) to celebrate the expectation of divine judgment. Many people think of divine judgment in negative terms; the psalmist rejoices in it, for at long last 'God will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples with equity' (98:9). That will be a good day, not a bad day."

Open to God

In Calhoun's assessment worksheet, I subtly sensed a need to be more open with God. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about her questions that made me uncomfortable, unsatisfied with my openness to God. Then today Thompson asks me, “are there strong feelings in your life that you are hesitant to express in prayer?”

I didn’t pass over the question with my initial responses. I started to go through a list of all my awkward emotions to see what I talk to God about.

• My embarrassments? Yup, Oh God, why did I do that? help me to forget.
• My disappointments? Yes, sometimes just a groan, Oh God!
• My fears and stress? Yes, O God, come to my assistance, make haste to help me.
• My awkward uncoolness? Yes. God I don’t fit in here, I can’t believe that you delight in me, but I thank you for it! Thank you for providing me with a place to belong.
• My frustration, anger, and moodiness? Not usually, I am too caught up in it. It is not that I don’t want to express it in prayer, or that I feel it is taboo, but I don’t pray when I feel this way. It is Grace that allows me to pray and when I do I no longer feel crabby so I don’t talk about it.

“Pray without ceasing…”

Increasingly on my spiritual journey I have met Jesus as divine lover. Strangely I enjoy imagining his masculinity. It has never struck me as strange, but Sarah refered to God with a feminine pronoun in a post, which got me thinking. With all the romance my relationship with God enjoys, why I don’t also see God as feminine. Dare I say I feel feminine around him. During my times of prayer I sense his presence mastering me, ravishing me. He makes me feel pretty and vulnerable too.

My heart has led me back to my lover through out the day more often as I have grown close to him, but there are times a plenty when the business of my day has crowded out thoughts of love and left me with empty loneliness. I am beginning to resonate with Martin Luther when he said, “I have so much business I cannot get on without spending three hours daily in prayer” (Foster 34). I have returned this week to the joy of praying the hours. I have found times of meditation stretching and coming back to me. I spontaneously start a breath prayer, “Jesus!”

The repetition of the Liturgy of the Hours, the rosary and breath prayers have brought a rhythm to life and spirit. The disadvantage is the repetition can become rote and I can disengage my attention. I also have to deal with the funk when the rhythm breaks down.

Since experiencing the spontaneity of breath prayer erupting in me, I have tried to make it a discipline. It is overwhelming. I breath in the breath of God. I imagine him filling my inner being, as the breath escapes I whisper breath on me. The power of his spirit filling me is too much for me to handle. This kind of prayer will take much practice to be able to withstand its power for longer times. With greater endurance a breath prayer could powerfully bring me back to attention on God throughout the day.

I was surprised when I learned that most Catholics who pray the rosary do it with a particular intention. I guess my intention is to know God. The intention is what you want God to do, your greatest desire. Praying the rosary like centering prayer is how I express my desire for God.

Delight

Delight is a word that feels good in my mouth. I wrap my tongue around it with joy. It's like ice cream. My kids especially delight in ice cream, their excitement is palpable.

What do I delight in? A good shot of espresso for one. The day I replaced the pump in our coffeehouse espresso machine and pulled our first really good shot was a day of delight. I was hopping around the room hooting and shouting. I was so gleeful that tears came to my eyes as I giggled like a little girl. I'm a geek. I know.

So many things in my life have been delightful: realizing again how much I love my wife, getting a computer to work, really good Greek food or my kids quoting rhymes from The Princess Bride (Does anybody want a peanut?).

I was floored today with a verse from Psalm 149.

For the LORD takes delight in his people;
he crowns the humble with salvation.

Let the saints rejoice in this honor
and sing for joy on their beds.

That God would delight in me somehow hit me hard. It was somehow to tangible and rich. Sobs were stuck in me. It was too much, like when our kids are so upset they can't even cry, they just stand mouth agape, confusion in their eyes wondering why nothing is coming out. It is indeed humbling - his delight.