The Aesthetic Thread

I have come to see an aesthetic thread running through my life. It is there in my tastes in music, art, literature, food, and drink. The spectacular thing is that this thread resonates with my passion for God like the string on a violin.

Holy Longing marks my relationship with God. I have a passionate desire for intimacy with my Divine Lover that has its root in Eros and stretches for Agape. There is a bittersweet quality to our intercourse, my God and I. When I feel surrounded by God’s presence I feel joy and comfort, satisfaction and wholeness, but I also feel tears well up and a lump come to my throat. I rest in God’s presence and at the same time I mourn that I am not consummated and consumed in divine rapture. I have chosen words that may shock the reader with erotic connotations. This is appropriate because the holy longing I am describing is wholly a function of Eros. It is the divine spark and divine madness spoken of by philosophers and mystics alike.

hope

What accounts for this hopeful feeling that fills me today?  Crazy consolation.  I feel as though dreams might really come true. What a wonderful God-feeling.

Flitting and fluttering passions

My Confession, Psalm 131

¹ My heart is not proud, LORD,
   my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
   or things too wonderful for me.

Praying this Psalm this morning was a mirror showing me the condition of my heart.  Passions have been swirling around in me clamoring for change.  I have what I still consider God-given ideas and desires.  Passions to help people hungry for spiritual depth, to craft a new church that embraces the ancient symbols and experiences while living in a vibrancy of Pentecost.  I want to see a contemplative and experiential ministry to children and their families out of that church.  I want to minister to kids again.  I want to live in neo-monastic community with others hungry for the same things. All these things swirl around and my haughty eyes see no way that they can be done.  Not here. If these things are indeed from God they come from a depth of mystery.  They are too great for me.  They require patience to unfold in God's wonderful timing.  How I need God's peace to enter the troubled waters of my soul! The rest of Psalm 131 is my need and my goal.

² But I have calmed and quieted myself,
   I am like a weaned child with its mother;
   like a weaned child I am content.

 ³ Israel, put your hope in the LORD
   both now and forevermore.

Brother Leach, this week, told me that these frustrations will never leave.  In ministry there is always something more God is calling us to, stretching us to, stretching our communities to. I need the quieting.  Years ago talking about spiritual formation would send my soul a twitter with excitement.  Looking back at how my masters program in spiritual formation has changed me I see that those fluttering passions have settled into a deep well within me.  I need the same peace about church planting, about the future.

Parents as Spiritual Directors

Then little children were being brought to him in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.’ And he laid his hands on them and went on his way.[1]

Who would doubt Jesus’ sincerity about wanting children to come to him? Yet the actions of many in the church imply that we don’t believe children can really access the depths of relationship with Christ. There are challenges associated with the spirituality of children, to be sure, but against them stand the very nature of God and ancient practices that can assist children on the way.

Challenge

When I was a teenager I was delighted to be ministering to children. I felt called to children’s ministry as a child and as a teenager I was already realizing the dream.  However, one Sunday morning shook my convictions so violently that, for a time, I abandoned the thought of ministry to children. A new pastor had just taken over the children’s ministry that I had been running with some friends. I was helping her this particular Sunday when she invited the children to respond to a salvation message. I saw many children finding places of prayer, asking Jesus to be their Savior.  Instead of producing joy, this event rocked me to my core.  Many of these children were already saved and had in the weeks and months before been finding places of prayer to deepen their relationships with God and seek the baptism in the Holy Spirit.  I was immediately faced with the question: Can children understand this spiritual life? Is the richness of relationship with the triune God available to them?

Today, I am the father of five-year-old Foster and seven-year-old Ella. This challenge comes home to me as I attempt to use all of my training as a children’s pastor to help them find their own experiences of God. Ella is naturally more interested in the things of God. Foster is younger and is at a stage where “Jesus things” are boring.  Exploring Foster’s spirituality with him is even more challenging. I have come to believe that the wealth of spiritual relationship is for them, yet those questions from my teen years spur me on to study how that spiritual growth happens.

Midnight machinations

This is the time of night, it seems, that I make resolutions and have grand plans of action. It is too bad that my mind picks the time my body needs to sleep to be most active. A couple nights ago it was a desire to get Foster's room in order. Tonight I am making plans to be productive: praying the hours and doing lectio divina on the texts for each day. Maybe by writing it down,the resolution might linger until morning?

Is change coming?

Three weeks was a long time to be away. It was so good for me.  I come back to the house, not with a depressed listlessness, but a restless contentment and an expectation of what is to come. I feel alive again.

Elaine and I have called this Summer a time of transition. We have no idea what that means, only a sense that something needed to change. As we spent time together on our trip our sense became more clear. Change is coming and we are both open to it.  We still have no idea what that will look like.  We are not actively looking, the door will have to present itself and open on its own accord by the power of God.

My dad is helping to plant Crowne Pointe church in Bloomington. They meet in the auditorium beloning to Cedar Valley Church (or as I knew it Bloomington AG).  We went with the kids to Real Kids FX (Family Experience) an integrated service before the regular services. I was in love.  Children's Pastor, Jesse Baumgartner, has found a way to put my philosophy of ministry into action!  The service opened my eyes to how my family ministry model can be fit into the expectations of an existing church.  It also showed me how I could feel comfortable being part of the pastoral team in a large church setting. I could totally see being the pastor to the families in the FX service, or even seeing it as a church plant that the big church mothers.

There seems to be a big jump from where we are to that kind of place where I can engage in my passions. Will God transform our church into the place I flourish? or will it be a church plant in Bay City? or will God move us to a metropolitan area like Kalamazoo or Traverse City?  Time will tell. For now we wait on the Lord (Isaiah 40:31).

Listlessness and the Consuming Fire

Lately I have felt listless and depressed. Without the challenge of my Masters program to occupy my time, I have become acutely aware of the tedium and slow death inherent with just hanging on. My feelings over the last couple months are spoken eloquently by this quote via Jamie:

"...it is always easier to busy ourselves than to merely exist. Even important and useful work can distract us from remembering who we are, and what our deeper purpose might be. Monastic wisdom insists that when we are most tempted to feel bored, apathetic, and despondent over the meaninglessness of life we are on the verge of discovering our true self in relation to God. It is worth not giving up, because when we are willing to do nothing but 'be,' we meet the God who is the very ground of being, the great I AM whom Moses encountered at the burning bush." [Acedia and Me - Kathleen Norris].

I want to hide from these words.  I have cherished my darkness, grieving the loss of a stage of life. I have felt unprepared to stare into the burning bush. Yet even in the midst of the paschal mystery, Christ is there.  These last couple weeks leading up to vacation have been an easing of the darkness for me.

Today I retreated into the consuming fire.  I made my way to Northfield and enjoyed an americano in reverie.  I really love Northfield or the romantic dream that is Northfield in my mind. Mom told me this morning that my cousin Jon is talking about planting a church in Northfield with a friend.  Here again I enter the paschal place.  I have long harbored a dream of doing just that.  It doesn't seem likely that we will leave the Michigan District to come back to Minnesota, still it is hard to give up a dream.

I went over to Carleton College and walked the Stewsie Island Labyrinth.  In the center I sat with God and gave up my dreams. As I walked the path out - the path of ministry to the world, I felt God offering me encouragement for ministry in Sebewaing.  I could use my newfound love of spiritual direction when visiting with people, but I have resisted doing it.  God challenged me again to obedience.  This challenge would have seemed convicting, even condemning since fear has made me disobedient for so long, had it not been for God's laughable word a few weeks ago "I trust you."  God trusts me?!  Back in the car, the words of Switchfoot go straight to my heart:

Free,
Come set me free
Down on my knees
I still believe you can
Save me from me
Come set me free
Come set me free
Inside this shell
There’s a prison cell

And today I do believe God can save me from me.

A Monstrance

From the consuming fire of the sun beating on the labyrinth, I went into the consuming fire of Divine Mercy Adoration Chapel.  The Catholic church in Faribault set this chapel up ten years ago for perpetual adoration. It's like the 24 hour prayer movement contemplative style. There I sensed the presence of God  with power.  It made me tremble.  One neat practical application of Catholic Eucharistic Theology is the monstrance.   The believe in the actual presence of Christ in the bread and wine.  The monstrance is a display in which they can place the consecrated host so they can stand in the real presence of Christ.

I am not a practiced catholic, (not really a catholic at all, shh!) I haven't quite figured out how to genuflect.  In the presnence of the monstrance I prayed these words:

You are my King

and I don't know how to honor You

You are my Lover

and I don't know how to love You

You are my Soul

and I don't know how to trust You

I imagined the presence of Christ being concentrated in that peace of bread in the center of the monstrance. (Why not?) If we can see the presence of Christ concentrated in a wafer, how much more in the real and visible body of Christ  - each other.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu said,

"If you and I took our theology seriously, this is the point -- we bear God in us; we are sanctuaries; we are temples of the Holy Spirit. We shouldn't just shake hands and greet each other in the normal kind of way. We ought, each one of us, to genuflect before one another." 

Somehow that thought brought me to tears. Perhaps it was a powerful realization that I am not alone, grieving my losses in some corner, but I am part of a living and active body. I have a place and so do those around me that my eyes see with distrust.

I can't sleep

Tonight I enter into the Paschal Mystery as I once again mourn the death of a dream, as the steampunk incarnation of Live Wired Coffeehouse which was to be at The Whistle Stop appears to be laid to rest.  Jesus Christ, draw me close to you in the fellowship of our sufferings and give me the strength to dream another dream.

Study cave proving successful

Called convention and District Council took me away from my studies and consumed my attention. Needless to say, coming back I felt the stress of the final paper in my masters studies hanging over me. Sunday night my family graciously helped me transform my basement church office into a study cave - cleaning it, assembling a new desk chair, arranging a number of candles and stocking the fridge with a case of redbull.

This has done me good. I have been making strides in the last couple days. I have nearly completed my literature review and have a good start on my challenge section. At this pace I am pretty comfortable, unfortunately graduation feels like just another distraction as we plan to leave for the Spring Arbor area tomorrow night.

A week in Lansing

I've spent much of this last week in Lansing. Last weekend was Called Convention, as usual I set up the reflection room. It was neat to see the teenagers worshiping with such zeal. The irony was not lost on me, that as I struggled with restlessness and searched for direction for my ministry, I was tasked with helping students discern their callings. It was helpful for me, too.  I had been in a funk, questioning my effectiveness as a minister.

The David Crowder song How He Loves wrecked me the first night. I was powerfully overcome by a sense of God's love. Lines like, "All of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory," and "And heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss/And my heart turns violently inside of my chest, I don’t have time to maintain these regrets..." destroyed my funk.

Sunday morning I went to an early service at All Saints Episcopal. I found the liturgy and eucharist as nourishing as ever.  Then I high-tailed it back to Sebewaing and managed to make it in time to hear Elaine deliver a killer sermon. It was the first Sunday I had been in church without suit or tie.  I felt relaxed.

Monday we took off for District Council.  We happened to have booked the same hotel that I had stayed in for called convention. I had no luck finding a decent espresso the first time we were there, but Mount Hope had a surprisingly good shot, so did Deckers and Gone Wired.

I greatly enjoyed conversations with friends and the services. God was affirming and it was wonderful.  As Elaine and I were leaving, a pastor of a large church with many daughter churches and author of many books, a guy with whom people are impressed, said he thought we were impressive!  I chortled and Elaine said, "whatever." I felt such consolation on the trip home.  God spoke to me through Dave's words.  It was like hearing God saying "You are my beloved son, in you am I well pleased."  Nice.