My fear revisited

I just read a comment left on my post, The Future of the A/G, which played upon my fear of no longer fitting in with the fellowship of my childhood, my heritage, and my experience. Even after I sorted through the commenter's reasons that the A/G should get rid of me, and found them baseless and uninformed, I still was left with that burning feeling in my veins as though my blood was thawing and the ice flow of little crystals was playing needle to my *sewing project of your choice*. He tells me not to speak for my generation, that not everyone is apostate and a heretic like me, but he missed the point of my post. That is precisely my fear, though I hold out hope that I in the end will be viewed as embracing a wide orthodoxy rather than being a heretic.

I have to admit my fear is so great, that as soon as I found I had a comment, my heart began to race. Lord I do not feel condemned before you for the beliefs you have brought me to. Help me not to fear men. My only desire is to know you and please you. If being authentic even as people reject me pleases you, or even if my damnation to a more tangible hell would bring glory to your name in some way, let it be my love, let it be!

The body of Christ

Today as I was praying the rosary, my mind began to wander to all the rich symbolism of the Catholic church. I remembered a healing service I went to at Holy Family last year. The Franciscan friar leading the service took a host, and put it in a special display called a Monstrance. It is for them a way to look at the real body of Christ and adore him. The priest then held the monstrance in front of his face, hiding behind it and a shawl that represented Christ. We were then invited to pretend we were touching the hem of Jesus' garments as we touched the shawl and asked for healing.

The Catholic view of the bread being the real body of Christ is so compelling. In it's presence you are literally able to be with Christ physically like the first disciples were. What if we viewed the church, the body of Christ, as being his real physical body in that way? O Lord so indwell and transform our bodies, so that if someone wanted to see what it was like to touch you, they only need to touch us, or to hold on to you they would only need to embrace us!

The Future of the A/G

I have long quipped that I would stay with the Assembly of God until they kick me out. I am a bit out of the ordinary. While I still hold dear our distinctives, I am a little too liberal politically, I am a neo-traditionalist (I like the power of liturgy and the richness of vintage devotion), I am a mystic, and I no longer consider myself a dispensationalist. I have desired to see the day when my generation comes to the fore and see what the A/G will look like. Will there be a place for me in it? I have always asked that question hopefully.

With the resignation of our current general superintendent, I suddenly feel that moment upon us and I am a little afraid. How will it come out? What will it mean. The announcement was a little sudden, Elaine and I hadn't planned on going to General Council as our church can't afford to send us. So now we are left out of the process of picking the next leader of our movement. I turn to the Lord in prayer and must trust him. I am greatly heartened by the messages and prayers posted on futureag.blogspot.com Thank you so much for the effort!

Sunday Blues

I think I figured out how to classify the Sunday afternoon let down I always feel after preaching. Its like post-partum depression.

Italians make the most beautiful espresso machines

My dream machine! La San Marco

6 years today!

Isn't there something unsettling about church tax seminar presenters who like their bling?

Crap!

So much to say, so little desire to say it.

Every time I see my blogs, I think crap. I really should write something.

Bounded

In a new country, amid new conditions, Prince Andrew found life easier to bear. after his betrothed had broken faith with him - which he felt the more acutely the more he tried to conceal its effects - the surroundings in which he had been happy became trying to him, and the freedom and independence he had once prized so highly were still more so. Not only could he no longer think the thoughts that had first come to him as he lay gazing at the sky on the field of Austerlitz and had later enlarged upon with Pierre and which had filled his solitude at Bogucharovo and then in Switzerland and Rome, but he even dreaded to recall them and the bright and boundless horizons they had revealed. He was now concerned only with the nearest practical matters unrelated to his past interests and he seized on these the more eagerly the more those past interests were closed to him. It was as if that lofty, infinite canopy of heaven that had once towered above him had suddenly turned into a low , solid vault that weighted him down, in which all was clear, but nothing eternal or mysterious.

How often have I felt this way? I find myself frustrated with Prince Andrews many swings. Just as he seems about to touch something significant and larger than himself, something sends him back to the base life of the crust of the earth. Yet this passage rings so true to me. Those great experiences of the boundless Eternity seems so easily eclipsed by the daily work of living.