They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here is an essay on what a good weekend is all about.
29 November 2007
Weekend
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here is an essay on what a good weekend is all about.
03 November 2007
Grace
So, I daily find myself broken by the concept of grace. I've never really been one of those "woe is me a sinner" kind of people. Its not that I don't think I'm a sinner, but I don't understand why people dwell on their own sin so much...repent, and move on. I realize its not as easy as that sometimes, but I'd rather focus on Christ and on grace, rather than on me and my sin.
But, I digress from grace (don't we all?).
Grace. What a simple, foundational concept to our Christian faith. Words cannot describe this, and yet we always try. I think the best visions of grace are not in sermons, no matter how eloquent. They are in the eyes of a child, immediately after being disciplined, yet the child clearly wants nothing more than a hug to realize they're still loved. Grace is seen in an overworked parent taking the five minutes to play an undignified game of tag with a four year old. A child's laugh. A crisp, clear sunset.
Grace is me spending hours on a sermon, and yet still being unsatisfied with the outcome...getting angry with myself for not putting in the hours I "should"...and yet, on Sunday morning, seeing the dry bones come together, tendons and sinews spring forth, and skin come on the bones. And the bones then move, breathed with new life.
Grace is being freed from your sin, so it no longer has to take up the majority of your life. Grace is the chains of bondage to laziness, to greed, to lust, to whatever...shattered and left to rust into nothing. Grace is the freedom to run on new legs, given, free of charge, to a paralytic.
I choose to live in grace, in that gap beyond my own abilities, the place called 'faith'. I can't live their on my own, and trust me, I've tried. I have tried to live larger, live bigger, live better than my abilities would allow...but, it only works out when I do this with grace.
I still feel like I've come up short in my description, but words can't describe a concept like grace. But, would we want them to? Grace is not something to be describe, or discussed, or analyzed. It is rather something that must be experienced and lived, beyond ourselves, and immersed wholly in God's love.
But, I digress from grace (don't we all?).
Grace. What a simple, foundational concept to our Christian faith. Words cannot describe this, and yet we always try. I think the best visions of grace are not in sermons, no matter how eloquent. They are in the eyes of a child, immediately after being disciplined, yet the child clearly wants nothing more than a hug to realize they're still loved. Grace is seen in an overworked parent taking the five minutes to play an undignified game of tag with a four year old. A child's laugh. A crisp, clear sunset.
Grace is me spending hours on a sermon, and yet still being unsatisfied with the outcome...getting angry with myself for not putting in the hours I "should"...and yet, on Sunday morning, seeing the dry bones come together, tendons and sinews spring forth, and skin come on the bones. And the bones then move, breathed with new life.
Grace is being freed from your sin, so it no longer has to take up the majority of your life. Grace is the chains of bondage to laziness, to greed, to lust, to whatever...shattered and left to rust into nothing. Grace is the freedom to run on new legs, given, free of charge, to a paralytic.
I choose to live in grace, in that gap beyond my own abilities, the place called 'faith'. I can't live their on my own, and trust me, I've tried. I have tried to live larger, live bigger, live better than my abilities would allow...but, it only works out when I do this with grace.
I still feel like I've come up short in my description, but words can't describe a concept like grace. But, would we want them to? Grace is not something to be describe, or discussed, or analyzed. It is rather something that must be experienced and lived, beyond ourselves, and immersed wholly in God's love.
29 October 2007
Update...?
I have no idea where to start. I'm not entirely sure there is a place to start. The youth group here is both amazing and horrific, all at the same time. I find my heart breaking for each one of the kids, as they virtually all have had more hardship in their lives than any 5 people should. Going to youth and the various ministries are some of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
And yet...I love it. I can't imagine life without this kind of hardship. Had I known what I was praying for all these years in terms of "Jesus, send me to the place where your love is most needed" I might not have done it, but I am sure glad that I did. There is no joy greater than spending time with a girl whose mother has decided she doesn't want her around and sends her to live with her grandmother (who is already caring for her mother). Yes, the girl has a few "behavior problems", but just getting a chance to play basketball with her (we split the games 1-1) and realizing that through that, I'm helping God redeem His Creation.
Me. God has chosen me for this. He has chosen you for this. We get to help God! He doesn't need us, but, like a loving father, He wants us to participate, to take on the family business, if you will. Words cannot describe what this means to me.
And, I get paid to preach the gospel. I feel almost guilty. This is nuts.
Anyway, I could go on, but I'd just be saying the same thing. I got a flat the other day, though, so that's fun. I'll be welcoming quite a few friends to come by and visit in the coming months, but there's always room for more, so please contact me to book in your stay at my place...the shuttle service can pick you up at Sydney or Newcastle airports, or anywhere in between.
And, for those lovely people that want to send me things, my address is below. That should be everyone. If it isn't, we're in a fight.
And yet...I love it. I can't imagine life without this kind of hardship. Had I known what I was praying for all these years in terms of "Jesus, send me to the place where your love is most needed" I might not have done it, but I am sure glad that I did. There is no joy greater than spending time with a girl whose mother has decided she doesn't want her around and sends her to live with her grandmother (who is already caring for her mother). Yes, the girl has a few "behavior problems", but just getting a chance to play basketball with her (we split the games 1-1) and realizing that through that, I'm helping God redeem His Creation.
Me. God has chosen me for this. He has chosen you for this. We get to help God! He doesn't need us, but, like a loving father, He wants us to participate, to take on the family business, if you will. Words cannot describe what this means to me.
And, I get paid to preach the gospel. I feel almost guilty. This is nuts.
Anyway, I could go on, but I'd just be saying the same thing. I got a flat the other day, though, so that's fun. I'll be welcoming quite a few friends to come by and visit in the coming months, but there's always room for more, so please contact me to book in your stay at my place...the shuttle service can pick you up at Sydney or Newcastle airports, or anywhere in between.
And, for those lovely people that want to send me things, my address is below. That should be everyone. If it isn't, we're in a fight.
17 October 2007
Australian Tea Breaks
Tea Breaks in Australia.
Morning Tea - A break around about 10 or so for a quick "cuppah" (Australian for "a cup of tea or coffee, or whatever else you might desire"), that usually is supposed to last for 15 or so minutes, but will actually expand to fill any amount of time, from 5 minutes up to an hour or more. Tea or coffee is usually the drink, and biscuits and crackers are usually the food.
Afternoon Tea - A break around about 3 or so, and is more or less the same idea as morning tea, except this one is held in the afternoon. Usually some kind of spread is added for use with the crackers.
Tea - Now, this is the part that stands out. This is actually the evening meal, and no tea is served.
Why, perchance, would you have specific titles for the Morning and Afternoon Teas, and call the evening meal simply Tea, when the one simply called Tea is the only one where tea is not served?
Welcome to Australia, that's why.
Morning Tea - A break around about 10 or so for a quick "cuppah" (Australian for "a cup of tea or coffee, or whatever else you might desire"), that usually is supposed to last for 15 or so minutes, but will actually expand to fill any amount of time, from 5 minutes up to an hour or more. Tea or coffee is usually the drink, and biscuits and crackers are usually the food.
Afternoon Tea - A break around about 3 or so, and is more or less the same idea as morning tea, except this one is held in the afternoon. Usually some kind of spread is added for use with the crackers.
Tea - Now, this is the part that stands out. This is actually the evening meal, and no tea is served.
Why, perchance, would you have specific titles for the Morning and Afternoon Teas, and call the evening meal simply Tea, when the one simply called Tea is the only one where tea is not served?
Welcome to Australia, that's why.
08 October 2007
Changes
I don't even know where to start. The last three and a half weeks (has it only been that long?) have been a time of change, to say the least, for me. I'm not even talking about the external things (y'know, the whole moving around the world bit), but more the changes I've had to undergo internally.
No longer can I simply be Jesse, but I have the added title of "Pastor". The temptation is for that to go to my head, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that it almost can't. Not because I'm a great person, but because I'm not. I'm just like the next guy, except maybe a bit more strange. The only possible way for this ministry to work in any way, shape, or form is for God to be in it. I'm going to have to triple (at least) the amount of time I spend in prayer, and the same goes for study. Time spent just messing around won't be as plentiful.
I can no longer approach situations simply innocently, but I must also come wth a shrewdness borne of years of experience (again, something I lack that can only come of God). I can't afford to waste my time or my opportunities to spread God's love, which is something I've worried that I would do, consider my own tendencies towards laziness.
I think perhaps that is what has surprised me the most, is the ease with which I've stepped up to the changes. And I say this not out of ego, because this can only be because of God's grace and provision. I'm humbled by the responsibility, the gifts He's given me (why me?!), and the things He appears to be expecting me to do...as well as the apparent chances of success. Basically, if God is not involved, me unpacking my bags was foolhardy.
But, I'm realizing that I came here as an act of faith, and the only way is forward, again, in faith. Do I know what I'm doing? Not especially. Will that stop me? Nah. I'm excited about the things God will do through me, and in spite of me.
On an only semi-related note, I think I want to start writing letters, because, if nothing else, this will serve to encourage me and to learn discipline (letters don't write themselves, apparently, so I'll have to set time aside to do that), but it will also give me a chance to share what God's doing down here, and whatnot. I'm beginning to realize why St. Paul wrote so many letters. I make the promise that if you send me a letter, I will respond within a week's time (from when I receive it). I look forward to corresponding with you. Word.
Oh, here's the address (its for the church, but I get the mail there, so...yeah). Send letters here, but hold off on packages until I get my own place (a prayer point!).
Jesse Ryals
34 Dunkley Street
Rutherford, NSW 2320
Australia
No longer can I simply be Jesse, but I have the added title of "Pastor". The temptation is for that to go to my head, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that it almost can't. Not because I'm a great person, but because I'm not. I'm just like the next guy, except maybe a bit more strange. The only possible way for this ministry to work in any way, shape, or form is for God to be in it. I'm going to have to triple (at least) the amount of time I spend in prayer, and the same goes for study. Time spent just messing around won't be as plentiful.
I can no longer approach situations simply innocently, but I must also come wth a shrewdness borne of years of experience (again, something I lack that can only come of God). I can't afford to waste my time or my opportunities to spread God's love, which is something I've worried that I would do, consider my own tendencies towards laziness.
I think perhaps that is what has surprised me the most, is the ease with which I've stepped up to the changes. And I say this not out of ego, because this can only be because of God's grace and provision. I'm humbled by the responsibility, the gifts He's given me (why me?!), and the things He appears to be expecting me to do...as well as the apparent chances of success. Basically, if God is not involved, me unpacking my bags was foolhardy.
But, I'm realizing that I came here as an act of faith, and the only way is forward, again, in faith. Do I know what I'm doing? Not especially. Will that stop me? Nah. I'm excited about the things God will do through me, and in spite of me.
On an only semi-related note, I think I want to start writing letters, because, if nothing else, this will serve to encourage me and to learn discipline (letters don't write themselves, apparently, so I'll have to set time aside to do that), but it will also give me a chance to share what God's doing down here, and whatnot. I'm beginning to realize why St. Paul wrote so many letters. I make the promise that if you send me a letter, I will respond within a week's time (from when I receive it). I look forward to corresponding with you. Word.
Oh, here's the address (its for the church, but I get the mail there, so...yeah). Send letters here, but hold off on packages until I get my own place (a prayer point!).
Jesse Ryals
34 Dunkley Street
Rutherford, NSW 2320
Australia
25 September 2007
The Way of the Cross
I watched the movie 'Amazing Grace' recently, and it brought up a lot of things in my mind. The movie, for those of you who don't know, is about the campaign in England to abolish the slave trade, a movement which inspired the famous hymn the movie is named after.
The principle thing that it brought to mind was how the main character worked his whole life towards his goal of abolishing slavery in England, a pursuit that cost him greatly, in terms of his physical and emotional health. He suffered from colitis (I believe that's what it was), a condition most likely caused by being worn so emotionally thin from the campaign that his body suffered as well. But, ultimately, he saw his victory.
I desperately want to live that life.
I want to pour myself out as a sacrifice for Christ, working and striving always to further His Kingdom, both through my living and potentially through my dying. I want to be able to look back at the end of my life, and have given my all, successful or not. I want to spread the love of God everywhere I go, regardless of opposition.
And that brings me to the church in Maitland. I was recently disheartened when I was thinking of the way to go forward with the church here, and what factors would have to be overcome. The church is fragmented, not in terms of internal church politics, but in terms of myriad groups coming together. This has the potential to be an amazing part of the Body of Christ, a real celebration of diversity...but, that will be a long time in coming, methinks.
So, here I am, realizing this ministry is much bigger than I am, and that there is no sign on the horizon of success, either immediate or long-term. Its all well and good to talk about the theoretical aspects of picking up your cross daily, but its a different matter when the discussions end and its time to sign on the proverbial dotted line.
I have the pen, but I'm realizing what it means if I sign. This kind of thing goes against all that our culture teaches us, in that I will not be simply showing up to consume, and going where its easy. This will involve me getting stubborn and stuck in, refusing to surrender when times are difficult. That means when the horizon shows no signs of light, I push on for dawn.
It means, fully dying to self, and becoming alive to God.
Again, a concept that is easier said than done. So, in order to keep this marathon post from becoming too epic, I'll end it here. I'll need your prayers, and, if you're ever in the area, a visit would not go amiss either. I will need your encouragement, and your Reese's peanut butter cups (that's not a metaphor...they don't sell them down here). So, keep me in mind when next you pray...I'll be most appreciative.
The principle thing that it brought to mind was how the main character worked his whole life towards his goal of abolishing slavery in England, a pursuit that cost him greatly, in terms of his physical and emotional health. He suffered from colitis (I believe that's what it was), a condition most likely caused by being worn so emotionally thin from the campaign that his body suffered as well. But, ultimately, he saw his victory.
I desperately want to live that life.
I want to pour myself out as a sacrifice for Christ, working and striving always to further His Kingdom, both through my living and potentially through my dying. I want to be able to look back at the end of my life, and have given my all, successful or not. I want to spread the love of God everywhere I go, regardless of opposition.
And that brings me to the church in Maitland. I was recently disheartened when I was thinking of the way to go forward with the church here, and what factors would have to be overcome. The church is fragmented, not in terms of internal church politics, but in terms of myriad groups coming together. This has the potential to be an amazing part of the Body of Christ, a real celebration of diversity...but, that will be a long time in coming, methinks.
So, here I am, realizing this ministry is much bigger than I am, and that there is no sign on the horizon of success, either immediate or long-term. Its all well and good to talk about the theoretical aspects of picking up your cross daily, but its a different matter when the discussions end and its time to sign on the proverbial dotted line.
I have the pen, but I'm realizing what it means if I sign. This kind of thing goes against all that our culture teaches us, in that I will not be simply showing up to consume, and going where its easy. This will involve me getting stubborn and stuck in, refusing to surrender when times are difficult. That means when the horizon shows no signs of light, I push on for dawn.
It means, fully dying to self, and becoming alive to God.
Again, a concept that is easier said than done. So, in order to keep this marathon post from becoming too epic, I'll end it here. I'll need your prayers, and, if you're ever in the area, a visit would not go amiss either. I will need your encouragement, and your Reese's peanut butter cups (that's not a metaphor...they don't sell them down here). So, keep me in mind when next you pray...I'll be most appreciative.
21 September 2007
The Weirding Way
Well, here I am.
Australia.
Maitland.
Church.
My job.
Home.
After cramming a four year degree into five years, here I am. I spent three of those years being fairly rigidly devoted to learning what it means, academically, to do ministry. And, I even knew that I'd have to more or less re-learn everything once I actually got into ministry.
But, none of my classes prepared me for the sheer 'weirdness' of it all. After devoting my life (for the most part) to preparing me for this, its hard to fully grasp the fact that its here. No longer, when I have a suggestion for a ministry, do I go hint at it to the pastor. Nope. Now, I am the pastor. And, if I could find the darn formatting for this, 'am' would've been in italics.
Its also a bit hard to settle in, because right now I'm just staying with the vice chairman and his wife. They are wonderful people without a doubt (and I'm absolutely looking forward to working with them), but I think just the mere fact that there's not a place I can "call my own", so to speak, makes things a bit more difficult. It would be easier to help me get acclimated, if I could start setting a place up with my stuff and everything, start getting accustomed to my own way (which is half the reason I moved halfway around the world...to really strike out on my own).
I'm not sure if there is a way to prepare someone for all this, or even if its mostly compounded by the fact that I'm also in another country, but it is what it is. Weird.
Speaking of another country, I definitely like being here. I'm glad I signed up. I very much enjoy all the people I have to work with, and even though the youth group might be...exuberant, for the most part they're good kids. This is definitely a good starting church, if not one to continue at in the long term.
Well, I should be posting more, but its already 11:30 and I'm still in my pajamas, and there are a few things I need to do yet (like, eat...), so I'm off. I welcome any and all correspondence, especially in the way of goodies sent to me via snail mail (this will be easier once I get an apartment, and an address).
Australia.
Maitland.
Church.
My job.
Home.
After cramming a four year degree into five years, here I am. I spent three of those years being fairly rigidly devoted to learning what it means, academically, to do ministry. And, I even knew that I'd have to more or less re-learn everything once I actually got into ministry.
But, none of my classes prepared me for the sheer 'weirdness' of it all. After devoting my life (for the most part) to preparing me for this, its hard to fully grasp the fact that its here. No longer, when I have a suggestion for a ministry, do I go hint at it to the pastor. Nope. Now, I am the pastor. And, if I could find the darn formatting for this, 'am' would've been in italics.
Its also a bit hard to settle in, because right now I'm just staying with the vice chairman and his wife. They are wonderful people without a doubt (and I'm absolutely looking forward to working with them), but I think just the mere fact that there's not a place I can "call my own", so to speak, makes things a bit more difficult. It would be easier to help me get acclimated, if I could start setting a place up with my stuff and everything, start getting accustomed to my own way (which is half the reason I moved halfway around the world...to really strike out on my own).
I'm not sure if there is a way to prepare someone for all this, or even if its mostly compounded by the fact that I'm also in another country, but it is what it is. Weird.
Speaking of another country, I definitely like being here. I'm glad I signed up. I very much enjoy all the people I have to work with, and even though the youth group might be...exuberant, for the most part they're good kids. This is definitely a good starting church, if not one to continue at in the long term.
Well, I should be posting more, but its already 11:30 and I'm still in my pajamas, and there are a few things I need to do yet (like, eat...), so I'm off. I welcome any and all correspondence, especially in the way of goodies sent to me via snail mail (this will be easier once I get an apartment, and an address).
24 July 2007
Endurance...?
I think I'm tired. Of sundry and varied things.
I'm tired of here. I want to get to Australia already. This is ridiculous. When I prayed for patience, this is not what I meant.
I'm tired of church. I didn't go on Sunday. No one missed me, and I missed nothing. I'm tired of church pandering to the felt needs of the masses, as opposed to speaking directly to the deep desires of the soul. If Christ just preached to the felt needs, He would have overthrown Rome and established a Jewish political state. Instead, He changed everything we thought we knew, as well as everything we could ever learn.
I'm tired of the ludicrous things my emotions are doing. I like it better when I can pretend they don't exist, or that they don't affect me. Emotions are fine things when you control them, but when they control you? Lame. Refer back to point #1.
I'm tired of being tired. I might not be the only one who is reaching out to the people outside of the fold of God, but sometimes it sure as heck feels like it. Refer back to point #2.
I'm tired of having nothing to work towards. Yes, there is Australia. Yes, I keep doing the work for that. But, that's it, and that's two months distant. I want to get in the game. The sidelines are all well and good, but seriously. I'm looking for life to actually mean something again, as opposed to just staying in this absurd holding pattern.
Dumb. But, I'm tired, so I'm going to bed.
I'm tired of here. I want to get to Australia already. This is ridiculous. When I prayed for patience, this is not what I meant.
I'm tired of church. I didn't go on Sunday. No one missed me, and I missed nothing. I'm tired of church pandering to the felt needs of the masses, as opposed to speaking directly to the deep desires of the soul. If Christ just preached to the felt needs, He would have overthrown Rome and established a Jewish political state. Instead, He changed everything we thought we knew, as well as everything we could ever learn.
I'm tired of the ludicrous things my emotions are doing. I like it better when I can pretend they don't exist, or that they don't affect me. Emotions are fine things when you control them, but when they control you? Lame. Refer back to point #1.
I'm tired of being tired. I might not be the only one who is reaching out to the people outside of the fold of God, but sometimes it sure as heck feels like it. Refer back to point #2.
I'm tired of having nothing to work towards. Yes, there is Australia. Yes, I keep doing the work for that. But, that's it, and that's two months distant. I want to get in the game. The sidelines are all well and good, but seriously. I'm looking for life to actually mean something again, as opposed to just staying in this absurd holding pattern.
Dumb. But, I'm tired, so I'm going to bed.
11 July 2007
Movie
I'm writing a movie script, I think. I bought a book about script writing, and I think I'm going to follow along with what the author says.
Its going to be a Western-ish movie, perhaps in a sci-fi setting, as that might allow for a bit more freedom in style and execution. I think the main character will be a young-ish guy who kind of stumbles into the whole thing, and is insecure and unsure, but also resolute in his desire to do what must be done. "What must be done" has yet to be decided, though.
If anyone is interested in reading and/or helping with the script, please let me know. People with good writing/editing skills would be greatly appreciated. And, anyone with a unabiding love of Westerns (like myself) is also eagerly desired. Let me know. Word.
Its going to be a Western-ish movie, perhaps in a sci-fi setting, as that might allow for a bit more freedom in style and execution. I think the main character will be a young-ish guy who kind of stumbles into the whole thing, and is insecure and unsure, but also resolute in his desire to do what must be done. "What must be done" has yet to be decided, though.
If anyone is interested in reading and/or helping with the script, please let me know. People with good writing/editing skills would be greatly appreciated. And, anyone with a unabiding love of Westerns (like myself) is also eagerly desired. Let me know. Word.
08 July 2007
Odds and Ends
There are several different things I'd like to talk about, none of which have any real relevance to each other. So...that's what I'm going to do.
I'm slowly going crazy from all the emotional rubbish of getting ready to leave. I'm used to being the stoic one of everyone, the one who is level-headed. Well, for better or worse, that is not the case...and I'm not a fan. So, I apologize to everyone I'll maim (whether phsyically, verbally, emotionally, or via any other means) in the process. I really am sorry, even though I might not make a good show of that.
That somewhat leads into another issue. I'm tired of no one seeing me for who I am. I tend to not give much away with my face (maybe I should play more poker?), but since when was that the deciding factor in what a person was feeling. I'm tired of people assuming that because I appear calm, nothing is the matter. I'm sorry to burst everyone's bubble, but I'm not the completely fearless guy you all think I am (or do you? Am I just living in a delusion? Meh). I'm afraid of this whole Australia thing. God is going to hold me to account for everyone's spiritual health. No pressure, eh? But, just because I keep pushing forward doesn't mean that I'm not terrified. Trust me, it doesn't mean that at all. I am.
And, on a less vulnerable note (just having given away my most closely guarded secret...), I think one of my favorite things is a shared moment of laughter or camaraderie between complete strangers. That moment when two people who know nothing about each other share a genuine laugh or smile, and not one forced by society or convention. Example: the other day, I was driving with my friend Nic when I noticed a guy definitely go (illegally) the wrong way on a roundabout. I burst out laughing, nudged Nic and nodded in the direction of the car as it was passing. The passenger of the car (I can only assume she was the girlfriend) saw me looking at them and laughing, and she laughed, and nudged the driver, I assume to tell him about me sharing their little joke. Its those moments of shared joy that give me hope for humanity.
However, the American Wesleyan Church doesn't give me much hope (this goes with any Christian Church caught up in the numbers game, instead of the Kingdom game). As long as you abstain from alcohol, smoking, and make sure you vote Republican (because they care about the babies and straight people, irregardless of the rest of the world), you're in. Anything else...well, that's the short road to the hot place. I can't even begin to articulate my fury at this. In fact, because I even broached the topic, I can safely guarantee that I won't get to sleep for at least an hour after I go to bed. Wake up, guys. C'mon. Its not about appearing holy, or good, or righteous...its about wading into the grime and muck and the sewage of humanity, and fighting for that one all important pearl of great price. Sell all that you have for that pearl, for that pearl is precious beyond everything. It is the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom of love, of compassion, of fairness, and equality. This issue will be dealt with in later posts, I promise. In more depth and precision. But, I'm tired.
Good night.
I'm slowly going crazy from all the emotional rubbish of getting ready to leave. I'm used to being the stoic one of everyone, the one who is level-headed. Well, for better or worse, that is not the case...and I'm not a fan. So, I apologize to everyone I'll maim (whether phsyically, verbally, emotionally, or via any other means) in the process. I really am sorry, even though I might not make a good show of that.
That somewhat leads into another issue. I'm tired of no one seeing me for who I am. I tend to not give much away with my face (maybe I should play more poker?), but since when was that the deciding factor in what a person was feeling. I'm tired of people assuming that because I appear calm, nothing is the matter. I'm sorry to burst everyone's bubble, but I'm not the completely fearless guy you all think I am (or do you? Am I just living in a delusion? Meh). I'm afraid of this whole Australia thing. God is going to hold me to account for everyone's spiritual health. No pressure, eh? But, just because I keep pushing forward doesn't mean that I'm not terrified. Trust me, it doesn't mean that at all. I am.
And, on a less vulnerable note (just having given away my most closely guarded secret...), I think one of my favorite things is a shared moment of laughter or camaraderie between complete strangers. That moment when two people who know nothing about each other share a genuine laugh or smile, and not one forced by society or convention. Example: the other day, I was driving with my friend Nic when I noticed a guy definitely go (illegally) the wrong way on a roundabout. I burst out laughing, nudged Nic and nodded in the direction of the car as it was passing. The passenger of the car (I can only assume she was the girlfriend) saw me looking at them and laughing, and she laughed, and nudged the driver, I assume to tell him about me sharing their little joke. Its those moments of shared joy that give me hope for humanity.
However, the American Wesleyan Church doesn't give me much hope (this goes with any Christian Church caught up in the numbers game, instead of the Kingdom game). As long as you abstain from alcohol, smoking, and make sure you vote Republican (because they care about the babies and straight people, irregardless of the rest of the world), you're in. Anything else...well, that's the short road to the hot place. I can't even begin to articulate my fury at this. In fact, because I even broached the topic, I can safely guarantee that I won't get to sleep for at least an hour after I go to bed. Wake up, guys. C'mon. Its not about appearing holy, or good, or righteous...its about wading into the grime and muck and the sewage of humanity, and fighting for that one all important pearl of great price. Sell all that you have for that pearl, for that pearl is precious beyond everything. It is the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom of love, of compassion, of fairness, and equality. This issue will be dealt with in later posts, I promise. In more depth and precision. But, I'm tired.
Good night.
12 June 2007
Family
So, here I am. In the Asheville, NC airport, waiting for my plan to arrive, load, and leave, hopefully in that order. Originally, my flight left roughly an hour ago, but I took a bump for a $200 voucher, to sit here for the next half an hour or so.
I've been traveling to visit family for the last week and a half, and am now going up to Minneapolis to visit my father for the next week. Its been really good to visit all my family members, because I feel like through our stories and talks, I've been able to reacquaint myself with my grandparents, both long dead. Its also made me fairly sad, because I know that they both loved me very, very deeply (something I'm only just beginning to touch the depths of), and, my grandmother especially, would have loved to have hosted me and my friends for visits.
I am on the tail-end of staying with my great-aunt Margie. I'll admit to being a little dubious about what she and I would have a chance to do and have in common, but the trip was a real joy. She and my grandmother were two of four sisters, all of whom played backgammon competitively. I have the rare (and perhaps singular) honor of being able to say that I beat all four of the Steves sisters at the game, something I reinforced by beating Auntie Marge in a grand total of five games to her two.
In doing so, though, Aunt Marge pointed out a couple of ways that I was like my own grandmother. Grammie was ultra-competitive (in a fun sort of way), and whenever she would be beaten, she would tease the victor by saying "oh, it was just an accident". I found myself doing the same thing, and was overjoyed to have Margie throwing it right back at me. (Me: You're cheating! Aunt Marge: I just watched what you did, and did that!).
After numerous discussions with my family, though, I found something interesting. In a culture that suffers both from the deterioration of the family unit, its not surprising we also ask what we think is a fundamental identity question, Who am I? But, is that question fundamental?
From what I've seen, this questions often stems from people who did not come from a strong family background. I didn't. I ask who I am. There's no rock on which to anchor, no overarching story to tie into and establish an identity through that. My faith plays a large part in that area for me now, but I don't think my faith alone can do that.
God has chosen to work through the family unit, and this is one way He has done so. By seeing our own selves in those of our parents, our similarities, our differences, we can understand who we really are. By refusing to use that as a cue for what makes us 'us', we may never really understand our deepest selves. Yes, there are many (!!) aspects of my parents I don't want to exhibit, but I do anyway. Denying I'm like them won't change the facts, it will just blind my perception in dangerous ways.
In a culture where the individuals so desperately want to know their identities, ignoring a potential source of that information is not only foolhardy, but can be dangerous if we don't realize the snares that entangle our parents might entangle us as well.
Well, my plane's here. Word.
I've been traveling to visit family for the last week and a half, and am now going up to Minneapolis to visit my father for the next week. Its been really good to visit all my family members, because I feel like through our stories and talks, I've been able to reacquaint myself with my grandparents, both long dead. Its also made me fairly sad, because I know that they both loved me very, very deeply (something I'm only just beginning to touch the depths of), and, my grandmother especially, would have loved to have hosted me and my friends for visits.
I am on the tail-end of staying with my great-aunt Margie. I'll admit to being a little dubious about what she and I would have a chance to do and have in common, but the trip was a real joy. She and my grandmother were two of four sisters, all of whom played backgammon competitively. I have the rare (and perhaps singular) honor of being able to say that I beat all four of the Steves sisters at the game, something I reinforced by beating Auntie Marge in a grand total of five games to her two.
In doing so, though, Aunt Marge pointed out a couple of ways that I was like my own grandmother. Grammie was ultra-competitive (in a fun sort of way), and whenever she would be beaten, she would tease the victor by saying "oh, it was just an accident". I found myself doing the same thing, and was overjoyed to have Margie throwing it right back at me. (Me: You're cheating! Aunt Marge: I just watched what you did, and did that!).
After numerous discussions with my family, though, I found something interesting. In a culture that suffers both from the deterioration of the family unit, its not surprising we also ask what we think is a fundamental identity question, Who am I? But, is that question fundamental?
From what I've seen, this questions often stems from people who did not come from a strong family background. I didn't. I ask who I am. There's no rock on which to anchor, no overarching story to tie into and establish an identity through that. My faith plays a large part in that area for me now, but I don't think my faith alone can do that.
God has chosen to work through the family unit, and this is one way He has done so. By seeing our own selves in those of our parents, our similarities, our differences, we can understand who we really are. By refusing to use that as a cue for what makes us 'us', we may never really understand our deepest selves. Yes, there are many (!!) aspects of my parents I don't want to exhibit, but I do anyway. Denying I'm like them won't change the facts, it will just blind my perception in dangerous ways.
In a culture where the individuals so desperately want to know their identities, ignoring a potential source of that information is not only foolhardy, but can be dangerous if we don't realize the snares that entangle our parents might entangle us as well.
Well, my plane's here. Word.
31 May 2007
Dark Holiness II (ish)
First off, let me say 'thank you' to all the people that commented on my last post. I do appreciate all that you've said, and helped me to think about. As such, I wanted to do a follow-up, so to speak.
Both Shane and Dan brought up good points about are ethics really the point, or is it rather more about love. I especially like Dan's bit about perhaps God was applauding the actor and not the action (not least because he used the word 'spunk'). I think maybe that is the key point in the whole thing...while God does desire for us to be made daily in His image, He loves us unconditionally. God loved Tamar, and the fire in her spirit that made her stand-up to the false righteousness in Judah. Keep in mind that Tamar was also not a Hebrew, nor really a worshipper of Yahweh, both facts that add in all kinds of fun complications.
Maybe that is the reason Genesis 38 is thrown in there, a reason we can only truly understand seen through the lens of Jesus. The idea that God loves us, no matter what we've done. Period. Full stop. End of story.
Ethics and 'holiness' are worthwhile and good as guidelines, but they are only just that...guidelines. When the fecal matter hits the air extruder, ethics and holiness are only so valuable. And, maybe, just maybe, that's the point.
I also really liked Jeremy's definition of holiness as the "natural development that stems from an intimate relationship and a deep desire to please the lover of our soul". I think when we think of holiness as just a list of things of what Christians do or don't do, we can really miss the point. Its not just about actions, although those play a significant part. Its about internal transformation, a point that far too many of American Christians miss. Coming up with more rules won't make people holier, rather they'll just end up becoming more legalistic. This is not to say we should throw out all rules, but has regulating everything every really worked?
Perhaps I'm showing my hand a bit too much, but the only exception I take to that definition of holiness is the 'natural' part. On the one hand, I fully agree...if you spend a long time with someone, you naturally become like them, and Jesus is no exception. But, at the same time, the pursuit of holiness often seems like its anything but natural. I fight an uphill battle against myself every day, and I always seem to be losing (how's that for a conundrum?). I so desperately want to be like Him, but at the same time, I'm just as desperately afraid to take the steps of faith.
I wish I had a good ending for this post, that would wrap everything up in a nice, neat little package, all answers included with interest. But, no. That does seem to follow the pattern of the entry, though, saying that we can't answer everything fully, but we just need to go out and meet each day. Holiness is not a list we can check off, but a lifestyle of love. We can't let the expectations of others and our desire for approval shape our lives, but rather the unconditional, infinite love of our Lord and Redeemer guide our steps, one at a time.
Your thoughts?
Both Shane and Dan brought up good points about are ethics really the point, or is it rather more about love. I especially like Dan's bit about perhaps God was applauding the actor and not the action (not least because he used the word 'spunk'). I think maybe that is the key point in the whole thing...while God does desire for us to be made daily in His image, He loves us unconditionally. God loved Tamar, and the fire in her spirit that made her stand-up to the false righteousness in Judah. Keep in mind that Tamar was also not a Hebrew, nor really a worshipper of Yahweh, both facts that add in all kinds of fun complications.
Maybe that is the reason Genesis 38 is thrown in there, a reason we can only truly understand seen through the lens of Jesus. The idea that God loves us, no matter what we've done. Period. Full stop. End of story.
Ethics and 'holiness' are worthwhile and good as guidelines, but they are only just that...guidelines. When the fecal matter hits the air extruder, ethics and holiness are only so valuable. And, maybe, just maybe, that's the point.
I also really liked Jeremy's definition of holiness as the "natural development that stems from an intimate relationship and a deep desire to please the lover of our soul". I think when we think of holiness as just a list of things of what Christians do or don't do, we can really miss the point. Its not just about actions, although those play a significant part. Its about internal transformation, a point that far too many of American Christians miss. Coming up with more rules won't make people holier, rather they'll just end up becoming more legalistic. This is not to say we should throw out all rules, but has regulating everything every really worked?
Perhaps I'm showing my hand a bit too much, but the only exception I take to that definition of holiness is the 'natural' part. On the one hand, I fully agree...if you spend a long time with someone, you naturally become like them, and Jesus is no exception. But, at the same time, the pursuit of holiness often seems like its anything but natural. I fight an uphill battle against myself every day, and I always seem to be losing (how's that for a conundrum?). I so desperately want to be like Him, but at the same time, I'm just as desperately afraid to take the steps of faith.
I wish I had a good ending for this post, that would wrap everything up in a nice, neat little package, all answers included with interest. But, no. That does seem to follow the pattern of the entry, though, saying that we can't answer everything fully, but we just need to go out and meet each day. Holiness is not a list we can check off, but a lifestyle of love. We can't let the expectations of others and our desire for approval shape our lives, but rather the unconditional, infinite love of our Lord and Redeemer guide our steps, one at a time.
Your thoughts?
11 May 2007
Dark Holiness
I find myself in a bit of a tailspin after reading Scripture (which is exactly what Scripture should do to our lives, shake them up a bit and force us to rethink everything).
I come from the Methodist branch of holiness teaching, which means that to be holy means that you don't drink, smoke or chew, nor hang around with those who do. Holiness sometimes comes down to a list of things you don't do...but, the Wesleyan Methodists in Australia have started to define it by a heart condition (more akin to what Wesley himself, and even some crazy Nazarene preacher did). But, holiness is a matter of following the dictates of Scripture by being a person of integrity (not lying, cheating, stealing, etc etc) as well as loving God and people with your whole being.
But, then I read Genesis 38, the story of Judah and Tamar.
Now, I've read this before, but for some reason, this time I really began to think about it...why is Tamar commended for being a prostitute, lying, and being a cheat? And, don't kid yourself, she is absolutely commended (if just by being mentioned in all the genealogies and whatnot).
Now, if this was an isolated case, that would be one thing. But, this same craftiness is commended in the Hebrew midwives in Exodus 1:15-22. As well as the life of Jacob (almost the whole darn thing...he is chosen as the namesake for the Jews entire). And in Christ's parable of the Dishonest (or Shrewd) Manager.
What are we supposed to draw from this? How are we supposed to define holiness?
I am reminded of a character from the television show, Boston Legal. Alan Shore is a good lawyer, but making ethical decisions is not his forte. However, he does do what is right. In one particular case, he encouraged someone to impersonate a psychiatrist to ascertain if another psychiatrist's patient was homicidal. When queried about if that was ethical, Shore replied "Oh. I'm sorry. If ethics is what you're worried about, then just write a letter as a lawyer stating it is not something ot be worried about, that the client isn't dangerous. You'll both be covered. I didn't realize ethics was the issue...I thought human life was at stake. My apologies."
Is that the attitude that we're supposed to have? Do what is right, even if it means lying or cheating? Doesn't that stray into the awful realm of the ends justifying the means?
Or, are we as Christians called to that kind of discerning and hard style of Christianity, weighing each and every issue individually, but not having the 'hard and fast' rules that we as people love so much?
I wish I had the answer. This is a difficult question, and I really want to hear people's opinions about this. Please let me know your thoughts, and this has very high potential as an issue we'll see again in my blog.
Word.
I come from the Methodist branch of holiness teaching, which means that to be holy means that you don't drink, smoke or chew, nor hang around with those who do. Holiness sometimes comes down to a list of things you don't do...but, the Wesleyan Methodists in Australia have started to define it by a heart condition (more akin to what Wesley himself, and even some crazy Nazarene preacher did). But, holiness is a matter of following the dictates of Scripture by being a person of integrity (not lying, cheating, stealing, etc etc) as well as loving God and people with your whole being.
But, then I read Genesis 38, the story of Judah and Tamar.
Now, I've read this before, but for some reason, this time I really began to think about it...why is Tamar commended for being a prostitute, lying, and being a cheat? And, don't kid yourself, she is absolutely commended (if just by being mentioned in all the genealogies and whatnot).
Now, if this was an isolated case, that would be one thing. But, this same craftiness is commended in the Hebrew midwives in Exodus 1:15-22. As well as the life of Jacob (almost the whole darn thing...he is chosen as the namesake for the Jews entire). And in Christ's parable of the Dishonest (or Shrewd) Manager.
What are we supposed to draw from this? How are we supposed to define holiness?
I am reminded of a character from the television show, Boston Legal. Alan Shore is a good lawyer, but making ethical decisions is not his forte. However, he does do what is right. In one particular case, he encouraged someone to impersonate a psychiatrist to ascertain if another psychiatrist's patient was homicidal. When queried about if that was ethical, Shore replied "Oh. I'm sorry. If ethics is what you're worried about, then just write a letter as a lawyer stating it is not something ot be worried about, that the client isn't dangerous. You'll both be covered. I didn't realize ethics was the issue...I thought human life was at stake. My apologies."
Is that the attitude that we're supposed to have? Do what is right, even if it means lying or cheating? Doesn't that stray into the awful realm of the ends justifying the means?
Or, are we as Christians called to that kind of discerning and hard style of Christianity, weighing each and every issue individually, but not having the 'hard and fast' rules that we as people love so much?
I wish I had the answer. This is a difficult question, and I really want to hear people's opinions about this. Please let me know your thoughts, and this has very high potential as an issue we'll see again in my blog.
Word.
16 April 2007
Disciplines
I've been meaning to write this post for awhile, but since I'm currently dying of Ebola, I decided I might as well write it in case I don't last too much longer.
I've been doing a fair amount of thinking about the idea of training yourself, especially in spiritual matters. I've taken a class in spiritual formation, and read numerous books about the subject, so it is at least a topic I am familiar with. I've also done some reading about Sparta and their military culture, and I am intrigued by the overlap.
Now, a lot of you are probably thinking "oh, he just saw 300, and this is going to be a post about how we should all be Spartans for Jesus" or something along those lines. No. Well, kind of, but mostly no.
I was monumentally disappointed by 300. Yeah, it was a good action movie, but its been a long time since that was the only necessity for me to like a movie. The thing that made the Spartans so amazing as a military force was their amazing discipline, and the sheer rigor of their training...not their ability to go into battle bare-chested (they didn't) or how to stand back-to-back defending a brother (they would stay in formation, always...something they alluded to in the movie, but then forgot about).
But, the concept of taking one's entire life and rigorously subjecting yourself to hardship after hardship to build up endurance...that is amazing. That was the mainstay of Spartan culture, the concept of having an amazingly tough training program so that when war came around, everyone was more than prepared for the hardships that entailed.
Does that describe us as Christians? Sadly, all too often, it does not. We have our jobs and our friends and our hobbies, and those tend to dominate our priorities. The concept of sacrificing one of those in order to spend time with God is unthinkable. Why should I turn off my XBox if God already loves me?
The parables in Matthew 13:44-50 seem to really portray this well. The theme that is present throughout is the idea of being willing to sell everything you have, in order to obtain that one, precious commodity. Are we willing to do that, as Christians?
I wish I could say that I was. Last week I tried to train myself to be disciplined, and it worked...to a degree. I ran four out of five days, and the day off was planned (I promise). I did a decent amount of work on my sermon for last night...but, somehow, in the midst of that, I still spent most of my time watching TV and wasting time on the internet.
I'm beginning to realize that we cannot accomplish this easily...nor should we be able to. If it was easy, we wouldn't have to make it our one, all-consuming passion. God does not want us to muck around, but to put Him at the center. I wish I could speak to this from experience of success, but its more from a place of black eyes, broken noses, and bleeding lips. But, speak to it I can, in a way, and I shall...and I invite all of you to keep me accountable and join me on the trek.
I've been doing a fair amount of thinking about the idea of training yourself, especially in spiritual matters. I've taken a class in spiritual formation, and read numerous books about the subject, so it is at least a topic I am familiar with. I've also done some reading about Sparta and their military culture, and I am intrigued by the overlap.
Now, a lot of you are probably thinking "oh, he just saw 300, and this is going to be a post about how we should all be Spartans for Jesus" or something along those lines. No. Well, kind of, but mostly no.
I was monumentally disappointed by 300. Yeah, it was a good action movie, but its been a long time since that was the only necessity for me to like a movie. The thing that made the Spartans so amazing as a military force was their amazing discipline, and the sheer rigor of their training...not their ability to go into battle bare-chested (they didn't) or how to stand back-to-back defending a brother (they would stay in formation, always...something they alluded to in the movie, but then forgot about).
But, the concept of taking one's entire life and rigorously subjecting yourself to hardship after hardship to build up endurance...that is amazing. That was the mainstay of Spartan culture, the concept of having an amazingly tough training program so that when war came around, everyone was more than prepared for the hardships that entailed.
Does that describe us as Christians? Sadly, all too often, it does not. We have our jobs and our friends and our hobbies, and those tend to dominate our priorities. The concept of sacrificing one of those in order to spend time with God is unthinkable. Why should I turn off my XBox if God already loves me?
The parables in Matthew 13:44-50 seem to really portray this well. The theme that is present throughout is the idea of being willing to sell everything you have, in order to obtain that one, precious commodity. Are we willing to do that, as Christians?
I wish I could say that I was. Last week I tried to train myself to be disciplined, and it worked...to a degree. I ran four out of five days, and the day off was planned (I promise). I did a decent amount of work on my sermon for last night...but, somehow, in the midst of that, I still spent most of my time watching TV and wasting time on the internet.
I'm beginning to realize that we cannot accomplish this easily...nor should we be able to. If it was easy, we wouldn't have to make it our one, all-consuming passion. God does not want us to muck around, but to put Him at the center. I wish I could speak to this from experience of success, but its more from a place of black eyes, broken noses, and bleeding lips. But, speak to it I can, in a way, and I shall...and I invite all of you to keep me accountable and join me on the trek.
01 April 2007
An Easter thought (early)
So, I was in church today (a good place for me as a pastor hopeful to be on a Sunday morning), and thinking (always a good activity, especially in church). My brain did the whole from one thing to another to another to another, until I was about fifteen points away from my original thought. But, here's what I ended up with.
Often, when confronted with a situation such as rape or murder or any form of awfulness perpetuated on one person by another, we recoil. We say that is horrific and sick and should never have happened.
Now, I'm not saying it isn't horrific and sick, but perhaps we are looking at it from the wrong perspective. In a perfect world, I would agree that events like this shouldn't happen, and maybe its just easy for me to say having never had to wrestle/cope with something that huge. But, we don't live in a perfect world, and these kinds of things do happen.
Maybe, just maybe, that's the point.
Every time something evil happens, instead of taking the perspective of horror and just staring at the malevolence of humanity, but instead look at it as a chance for reconciliation. See it as an opportunity to demonstrate the far-reaching and life-changing love of God to our fellow people. A time when we can redeem something that is only evil, and open up the arms of love to someone aching.
Perhaps this is what is meant by rejoicing in our suffering, as mentioned in the Scriptures. Instead of focusing on the horror and evil, choose to see the good. The chance for a prodigal to come home. Yes, what happened is evil, but that does not have to be the end. Perhaps we are called to not let evil have the final word, but let love always shine last, and shine best.
As a Christian, the Easter celebration is here in about a week. Maybe that's the whole point (or, at least, one of many of them) captured in this celebration of Jesus' resurrection. God has the final say. God is love. Even that which is tainted with darkness can still be consumed in the ever-loving light that is Christ, the light that cannot be quenched no matter the depth of the night. The light will shine on, and we, as the smaller lights of the world, should continue to demonstrate to the best of our best abilities that love.
Maybe this is too airy-fairy for some, and maybe I'm too much of an idealist. But, regardless of that, I think perhaps this is the point...love everyone, that through our love God will be made known.
Often, when confronted with a situation such as rape or murder or any form of awfulness perpetuated on one person by another, we recoil. We say that is horrific and sick and should never have happened.
Now, I'm not saying it isn't horrific and sick, but perhaps we are looking at it from the wrong perspective. In a perfect world, I would agree that events like this shouldn't happen, and maybe its just easy for me to say having never had to wrestle/cope with something that huge. But, we don't live in a perfect world, and these kinds of things do happen.
Maybe, just maybe, that's the point.
Every time something evil happens, instead of taking the perspective of horror and just staring at the malevolence of humanity, but instead look at it as a chance for reconciliation. See it as an opportunity to demonstrate the far-reaching and life-changing love of God to our fellow people. A time when we can redeem something that is only evil, and open up the arms of love to someone aching.
Perhaps this is what is meant by rejoicing in our suffering, as mentioned in the Scriptures. Instead of focusing on the horror and evil, choose to see the good. The chance for a prodigal to come home. Yes, what happened is evil, but that does not have to be the end. Perhaps we are called to not let evil have the final word, but let love always shine last, and shine best.
As a Christian, the Easter celebration is here in about a week. Maybe that's the whole point (or, at least, one of many of them) captured in this celebration of Jesus' resurrection. God has the final say. God is love. Even that which is tainted with darkness can still be consumed in the ever-loving light that is Christ, the light that cannot be quenched no matter the depth of the night. The light will shine on, and we, as the smaller lights of the world, should continue to demonstrate to the best of our best abilities that love.
Maybe this is too airy-fairy for some, and maybe I'm too much of an idealist. But, regardless of that, I think perhaps this is the point...love everyone, that through our love God will be made known.
11 March 2007
Life, as it is here and now
Well, I am here. Maitland, New South Wales, Australia. Geographically speaking, I'm a crazy long way from home. But, at the same time, I think I am home.
For those of you who don't have facebook or don't check my profile obsessively (probably better for your mental health), the Local Board of Administration of Maitland Wesleyan Methodist Church, in a meeting on March 6th 2007, voted unanimously to recommend to the Local Church Conference (to be held on March 20th) that a call be extended to one Jesse H. Ryals, a recent graduate from Houghton College in Western New York.
Me.
Those of you privy to my internal turmoil (which is everyone who is reading this) have been aware of the struggles with loneliness and things like that. I have also been wondering and praying about whether this is the right step for me to take.
I just signed a letter to the Maitland LBA informing them that I have accepted the terms they offered. For those of you unaware of the process in a Wesleyan church, the members of the church will now vote at the LCC as to whether they agree with the Board's decision. Please, please, please please please keep this process in your prayers. I absolutely feel that it is God's will for me to fully pursue this opportunity...but I have been known to make mistakes before.
However, I have also been spending significant amounts of time in prayer and contemplation, and I feel that in the not too distant future (as in, the shortest period of time possible) I will be calling Maitland home.
I cannot express the gratitude I feel for all of you who are remembering me in your prayers, as I don't even think I can know how much I truly know the massive debt I owe you. So, thanks.
I am beginning to compile a list of "must visits"...I'm pretty sure anyone reading this is on that list, but drop me an email or a comment to make sure, as well as if there is any particular time period that would work best. My time will be crunched, so any and all visits to Kansas are much appreciated, as I can then pack and visit. Anyway, I love you all, and am really excited about this opportunity.
I also won't have reliable email access until March 28th (in the US), so bear with me if I'm not prompt in replying.
Wherever I end up, there will always be a spare bedroom in my house for friends to come and stay. Please avail yourself of this soon, and repeat frequently.
For those of you who don't have facebook or don't check my profile obsessively (probably better for your mental health), the Local Board of Administration of Maitland Wesleyan Methodist Church, in a meeting on March 6th 2007, voted unanimously to recommend to the Local Church Conference (to be held on March 20th) that a call be extended to one Jesse H. Ryals, a recent graduate from Houghton College in Western New York.
Me.
Those of you privy to my internal turmoil (which is everyone who is reading this) have been aware of the struggles with loneliness and things like that. I have also been wondering and praying about whether this is the right step for me to take.
I just signed a letter to the Maitland LBA informing them that I have accepted the terms they offered. For those of you unaware of the process in a Wesleyan church, the members of the church will now vote at the LCC as to whether they agree with the Board's decision. Please, please, please please please keep this process in your prayers. I absolutely feel that it is God's will for me to fully pursue this opportunity...but I have been known to make mistakes before.
However, I have also been spending significant amounts of time in prayer and contemplation, and I feel that in the not too distant future (as in, the shortest period of time possible) I will be calling Maitland home.
I cannot express the gratitude I feel for all of you who are remembering me in your prayers, as I don't even think I can know how much I truly know the massive debt I owe you. So, thanks.
I am beginning to compile a list of "must visits"...I'm pretty sure anyone reading this is on that list, but drop me an email or a comment to make sure, as well as if there is any particular time period that would work best. My time will be crunched, so any and all visits to Kansas are much appreciated, as I can then pack and visit. Anyway, I love you all, and am really excited about this opportunity.
I also won't have reliable email access until March 28th (in the US), so bear with me if I'm not prompt in replying.
Wherever I end up, there will always be a spare bedroom in my house for friends to come and stay. Please avail yourself of this soon, and repeat frequently.
27 February 2007
Loneliness, Pt. II
I was surprised and encouraged by many of the comments from my last post...so, I might be lonely, but at least I'm not alone.
One thing that Danny mentioned that was extremely important was that many of the people from Christian history have led lonely lives, and yet wouldn't trade a second of it for company. Ben also asked the question if it is the nature of holiness to lead a life of loneliness, or if it is just our generation. I think it is both.
I think in our earnest pursuit of Christ, we as ardent Christians will quickly outrun the people who do not care as much. I say this not to puff up all of our egos as 'super-Christians', but I don't think that's what will happen. I say this simply to analyze and diagnose the situation.
If you are running a race, and soon find that everyone else is walking, that is no reason to stop running. You are running for the prize and the goal, and stopping for company is no excuse for not doing your best. Its a hard truth, but a truth nonetheless.
I also find comfort in a few things I learned from my study of Celtic Christianity during my stint in Scotland. One of them is the concept of Jesus being with us all the time, whether we know it or not (see Luke 24:13-35, the Road to Emmaus, for a Biblical account of this). Jesus is by our side all the time, but we as Western Christians forget that all too often. The Celts understood Jesus to be with them always, which greatly affected not only their theology and understanding of missions, but their understanding of community and friendship.
One woman in an outlying region of Scotland was met by an author once, and she had a picture of Jesus up on her mantle. When asked about it, she pointed to the picture, saying "oh, I'm not talking to him right now...I asked him for something and he refused to give it to me, so I'm letting him cool his heels for awhile." May we all have that conversational and familiar relationship with our Savior.
Another aspect is that of community and missions. For the Celts, monasteries were not something to enter for life, but rather part of the tapestry of life. There was a cycle, involving solitude with God, community with fellow Christians, and mission work to the unreached. The monks may (or may not) have vows of celibacy, but they would wander great distances, preaching and spreading the gospel of love, often alone, sometimes in small groups. After several months (or longer, depending on the monk), they would then go to an area of complete solitude for another couple of months. This solitude would enable them to spend time in prayer and meditation, focusing once again on God. After a time in solitude, they would go to the monastic community and spend time there, being refreshed and energized by friends and loved ones.
Our Western culture is highly mobile, with us only spending a few years in one place. By moving so constantly, we cannot sink our roots deeply into an area or into a specific community. Either we move on before that happens, or the others around us do. I think perhaps our testament as Christians could be to stay for extended periods of time in one place, as an example of dedication to community.
All of this are just ideas and thoughts on community, loneliness, and ministry (not necessarily laid out in a particularly well organized form, either). I encourage dialogue on the subject, as well as thought and prayer. I am also not adverse to all of you moving down to Australia with me, so we can form our own community here. Anyway...yeah. More to come on this in future posts, I suspect.
One thing that Danny mentioned that was extremely important was that many of the people from Christian history have led lonely lives, and yet wouldn't trade a second of it for company. Ben also asked the question if it is the nature of holiness to lead a life of loneliness, or if it is just our generation. I think it is both.
I think in our earnest pursuit of Christ, we as ardent Christians will quickly outrun the people who do not care as much. I say this not to puff up all of our egos as 'super-Christians', but I don't think that's what will happen. I say this simply to analyze and diagnose the situation.
If you are running a race, and soon find that everyone else is walking, that is no reason to stop running. You are running for the prize and the goal, and stopping for company is no excuse for not doing your best. Its a hard truth, but a truth nonetheless.
I also find comfort in a few things I learned from my study of Celtic Christianity during my stint in Scotland. One of them is the concept of Jesus being with us all the time, whether we know it or not (see Luke 24:13-35, the Road to Emmaus, for a Biblical account of this). Jesus is by our side all the time, but we as Western Christians forget that all too often. The Celts understood Jesus to be with them always, which greatly affected not only their theology and understanding of missions, but their understanding of community and friendship.
One woman in an outlying region of Scotland was met by an author once, and she had a picture of Jesus up on her mantle. When asked about it, she pointed to the picture, saying "oh, I'm not talking to him right now...I asked him for something and he refused to give it to me, so I'm letting him cool his heels for awhile." May we all have that conversational and familiar relationship with our Savior.
Another aspect is that of community and missions. For the Celts, monasteries were not something to enter for life, but rather part of the tapestry of life. There was a cycle, involving solitude with God, community with fellow Christians, and mission work to the unreached. The monks may (or may not) have vows of celibacy, but they would wander great distances, preaching and spreading the gospel of love, often alone, sometimes in small groups. After several months (or longer, depending on the monk), they would then go to an area of complete solitude for another couple of months. This solitude would enable them to spend time in prayer and meditation, focusing once again on God. After a time in solitude, they would go to the monastic community and spend time there, being refreshed and energized by friends and loved ones.
Our Western culture is highly mobile, with us only spending a few years in one place. By moving so constantly, we cannot sink our roots deeply into an area or into a specific community. Either we move on before that happens, or the others around us do. I think perhaps our testament as Christians could be to stay for extended periods of time in one place, as an example of dedication to community.
All of this are just ideas and thoughts on community, loneliness, and ministry (not necessarily laid out in a particularly well organized form, either). I encourage dialogue on the subject, as well as thought and prayer. I am also not adverse to all of you moving down to Australia with me, so we can form our own community here. Anyway...yeah. More to come on this in future posts, I suspect.
20 February 2007
Loneliness
The closer I get to the time when I will either accept or turn down Maitland's invitation to take the job as pastor (or, they will decide I'm not the best for the job), the import of the decision looms ever larger...as well as all the sacrifices that it will entail.
The issue of loneliness is one that I have struggled with for most of my life. Even when surrounded by people, I have often felt alone, or at the very least, different. Oftentimes, things that I think are exceptionally obvious, no one else sees. Or, options I think are quite absurd and suggest just for the sake of humor, people take seriously and with much gravity. So, I see things askew. I doubt many of my friends will deny this, either jokingly or seriously.
One would think that since I have dealt with this for such a long time, I would have learned to deal with it effectively, since I have had so much practice. Sadly, this is not the case. It is more something that gets increasingly more difficult the longer I am underneath it, in the same way that a physical burden gets heavier and heavier the farther you have to go. yes, there are respites and it does ease a little over time...but, never does it become outright easy.
That said, Maitland will most likely be lonely. I fit very nicely into that 'lost generation' at the church, the one that is too old for the child-oriented Sunday School, and yet too young to fit in nicely withe the 'Old Guard' of the church. Perhaps this should serve as motivation for evangelism, but that seems awful self-serving...spreading God's love so that I can have some friends my age. Hopefully, the kind of lifestyle evangelism I aspire towards will flow naturally out of my life and pursuit of God.
It also seems self-serving to turn down the call as a pastor just because I'll feel lonely. In the book Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer warns that 'he who cannot be in community, beware of being alone...he who cannot be alone, beware of being in community'. Is this just an instance of me having to learn what it is like to be alone? Is it bad that I am, dare I say it, afraid of being alone?
My life is often in this tension...I like spending time alone, but only when I can go and find my friends when I am done. This is perhaps a time when I will be forced to spend time by myself, with no break on the horizon. Is this God's way of telling me to seek employment elsewhere, or is this simply the spot God has been preparing me for this whole time? I find myself leaning towards the latter, but its not an easy decision.
I seek God the same way I seek life...because, at the foundation of my being, I have no real other choice. I once lived in the land of sin and death (a place I find myself visiting far too often), but I am not interested in returning. In the same way, after spending so much wonderfully beautiful times with friends, why would I want to return to the place of being alone?
Bonhoeffer also counsels that sometimes community is simply not an option. The Christian that is imprisoned for her faith does not have a choice of seeking community or friends...rather, the decision is forced upon her by outside circumstances. In the same way, someone stepping out to blaze a trail cannot be guaranteed followers. This is a tale repeated both in Scripture, and in Christian history. Is this me? Oy.
Well, I guess through my ramblings, I've answered my own question. I guess its time to continue to push forward, regardless of the cost. I'll don the armor, and hunker down behind the protection of my shield, and push forward. I'm not promised victory in my lifetime, but I am promised that victory is in the times to come. I just need to push forward towards it.
Forward. Ever forward.
The issue of loneliness is one that I have struggled with for most of my life. Even when surrounded by people, I have often felt alone, or at the very least, different. Oftentimes, things that I think are exceptionally obvious, no one else sees. Or, options I think are quite absurd and suggest just for the sake of humor, people take seriously and with much gravity. So, I see things askew. I doubt many of my friends will deny this, either jokingly or seriously.
One would think that since I have dealt with this for such a long time, I would have learned to deal with it effectively, since I have had so much practice. Sadly, this is not the case. It is more something that gets increasingly more difficult the longer I am underneath it, in the same way that a physical burden gets heavier and heavier the farther you have to go. yes, there are respites and it does ease a little over time...but, never does it become outright easy.
That said, Maitland will most likely be lonely. I fit very nicely into that 'lost generation' at the church, the one that is too old for the child-oriented Sunday School, and yet too young to fit in nicely withe the 'Old Guard' of the church. Perhaps this should serve as motivation for evangelism, but that seems awful self-serving...spreading God's love so that I can have some friends my age. Hopefully, the kind of lifestyle evangelism I aspire towards will flow naturally out of my life and pursuit of God.
It also seems self-serving to turn down the call as a pastor just because I'll feel lonely. In the book Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer warns that 'he who cannot be in community, beware of being alone...he who cannot be alone, beware of being in community'. Is this just an instance of me having to learn what it is like to be alone? Is it bad that I am, dare I say it, afraid of being alone?
My life is often in this tension...I like spending time alone, but only when I can go and find my friends when I am done. This is perhaps a time when I will be forced to spend time by myself, with no break on the horizon. Is this God's way of telling me to seek employment elsewhere, or is this simply the spot God has been preparing me for this whole time? I find myself leaning towards the latter, but its not an easy decision.
I seek God the same way I seek life...because, at the foundation of my being, I have no real other choice. I once lived in the land of sin and death (a place I find myself visiting far too often), but I am not interested in returning. In the same way, after spending so much wonderfully beautiful times with friends, why would I want to return to the place of being alone?
Bonhoeffer also counsels that sometimes community is simply not an option. The Christian that is imprisoned for her faith does not have a choice of seeking community or friends...rather, the decision is forced upon her by outside circumstances. In the same way, someone stepping out to blaze a trail cannot be guaranteed followers. This is a tale repeated both in Scripture, and in Christian history. Is this me? Oy.
Well, I guess through my ramblings, I've answered my own question. I guess its time to continue to push forward, regardless of the cost. I'll don the armor, and hunker down behind the protection of my shield, and push forward. I'm not promised victory in my lifetime, but I am promised that victory is in the times to come. I just need to push forward towards it.
Forward. Ever forward.
16 February 2007
A story
I wrote this last fall sometime (in Greek class, I think). It kind of speaks a bit on a situation I was going through at the time, although a significant embellishment, as all storytellers are want to do. I was originally thinking of placing it in a larger story, but I think I like it simply as a standalone. There is also strong reason to believe that it was heavily influenced by Firefly. Anyway, enjoy.
The air was potent. It had the feeling of a room saturated with gasoline fumes, eagerly awaiting the merest spark to set the entire thing off. His question hung in the air, waiting for her answer.
Jon's right thumb was hooked lazily on his gunbelt, his whole demeanor all but screaming an uncaring nonchalance. His mind, however, waited with baited breath for her response. He didn't want to appear to not care, but old habits die hard, and his rigid self control was oldest of the old, and was dying hardest of the hard.
"Well, there's no real reason for me to stay..." her deep blue eyes meandered skyward, almost as if she was looking for a reason....or, waiting for Jon to give her one.
Mentally, Jon's entire existence sagged. Of course she doesn't want to stay, Jon berated himself silently, she just doesn't want to be mean. He was furious for leading himself on, lashing his mind with wordless whips of wrath.
This entire exchange of thoughts took place in the barest of heartbeats. His exterior remained a still pool, no ripples to speak of the currents of emotion running hard beneath the surface. The lone betrayal was a single blink, and the briefest tightening of the skin around his eyes.
"Ok. We'll let you off at the next port," Jon replied tersely, all but covering his inner pain.
"Jon..." she said, a slight tone of pleading bringing Jon's flight to the door up short.
He quickly turned back around, hopeful despite his best efforts to the contrary. His eyes sparkled with the crackling electricity of anticipation, never looking so vividly alive.
Melanie's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to coax out words. Her eyes were the bluest Jon had ever seen, shining as dots of the purest sapphire. Jon desperately wanted to grab her in a bear hug, telling her his feelings while holding her until the last atoms of the sun died away into dark oblivion.
But, in the same way he could not cut off his own hand for the pain, he could do anything. Instead he simply raised his eyebrow in expectation, an unspoken question.
When she realized he wasn't going to say anything, her mouth closed and a shadow passed over her eyes.
"That...that'll be fine," she said, her eyes on the floor.
Jon nodded once, turning quickly away before the pain and agony tearing into his soul would make its way on to his face. He almost ran into the door in his haste to flee the room. He made his way to his own room, barely making it to his bed before his legs buckled.
He lay there, inspecting the intricacies of the ceiling above his bed for untold hours, his thoughts completely blank. Finally, his clock dinged softly, telling him he was on duty in fifteen minutes. He let it pass, along with the ten minute ring, his mind still numb.
Only at the five minute ring did Jon rise from the bed. He washed his face, took a comb through his hair to sort it out a bit. While he was in front of the mirror the entire time, he never once looked into his own eyes, for if he did not see the pain leaking from his soul, he didn't have to admit it was there.
He stood up, smoothed out his clothes, and made his way to the door. He stood in front of it for a few seconds. Finally, he squared his shoulders and went out, to meet the world head-on, to fly into the very teeth of the gale.
For, that was all he could do.
The air was potent. It had the feeling of a room saturated with gasoline fumes, eagerly awaiting the merest spark to set the entire thing off. His question hung in the air, waiting for her answer.
Jon's right thumb was hooked lazily on his gunbelt, his whole demeanor all but screaming an uncaring nonchalance. His mind, however, waited with baited breath for her response. He didn't want to appear to not care, but old habits die hard, and his rigid self control was oldest of the old, and was dying hardest of the hard.
"Well, there's no real reason for me to stay..." her deep blue eyes meandered skyward, almost as if she was looking for a reason....or, waiting for Jon to give her one.
Mentally, Jon's entire existence sagged. Of course she doesn't want to stay, Jon berated himself silently, she just doesn't want to be mean. He was furious for leading himself on, lashing his mind with wordless whips of wrath.
This entire exchange of thoughts took place in the barest of heartbeats. His exterior remained a still pool, no ripples to speak of the currents of emotion running hard beneath the surface. The lone betrayal was a single blink, and the briefest tightening of the skin around his eyes.
"Ok. We'll let you off at the next port," Jon replied tersely, all but covering his inner pain.
"Jon..." she said, a slight tone of pleading bringing Jon's flight to the door up short.
He quickly turned back around, hopeful despite his best efforts to the contrary. His eyes sparkled with the crackling electricity of anticipation, never looking so vividly alive.
Melanie's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to coax out words. Her eyes were the bluest Jon had ever seen, shining as dots of the purest sapphire. Jon desperately wanted to grab her in a bear hug, telling her his feelings while holding her until the last atoms of the sun died away into dark oblivion.
But, in the same way he could not cut off his own hand for the pain, he could do anything. Instead he simply raised his eyebrow in expectation, an unspoken question.
When she realized he wasn't going to say anything, her mouth closed and a shadow passed over her eyes.
"That...that'll be fine," she said, her eyes on the floor.
Jon nodded once, turning quickly away before the pain and agony tearing into his soul would make its way on to his face. He almost ran into the door in his haste to flee the room. He made his way to his own room, barely making it to his bed before his legs buckled.
He lay there, inspecting the intricacies of the ceiling above his bed for untold hours, his thoughts completely blank. Finally, his clock dinged softly, telling him he was on duty in fifteen minutes. He let it pass, along with the ten minute ring, his mind still numb.
Only at the five minute ring did Jon rise from the bed. He washed his face, took a comb through his hair to sort it out a bit. While he was in front of the mirror the entire time, he never once looked into his own eyes, for if he did not see the pain leaking from his soul, he didn't have to admit it was there.
He stood up, smoothed out his clothes, and made his way to the door. He stood in front of it for a few seconds. Finally, he squared his shoulders and went out, to meet the world head-on, to fly into the very teeth of the gale.
For, that was all he could do.
15 February 2007
Faith works
I've been reading Brian McLaren's Generous Orthodoxy as of late. I got a bit bogged down in the introduction, as he basically does his level best to talk you out of reading the book. I got his point, but it got really tedious, really fast. I'm here to tell you that if you are reading the same book and are thinking of putting it down...push through. Or, just skip the stupid intro bit. And maybe the first chapter, or chapter zero...whatever he calls it.
After that, it can only go uphill, and that it does. Rather than give an entire review, there are some aspects he touches on that I think are vitally important for the church to take note of.
One of the two things was his view of how to do missions work. He commented that most of the church thinks of missions as what happens outside of the doors of the church, and ministry is what happens on the inside. However, he said that perhaps we should think of it less as two separate things, but rather as one extending from the other. Work done outside the church should simply extend naturally from the work done on the inside of the church. Since the mission of the church should be to extend God's love, regardless of whether a person is a Christian or not, then there's no division. One flows from the other.
McLaren's point takes the obvious division of 'us and them', 'Christians and non-Christians', and simply puts us all in one category, 'God's children in need of love'. This inclusive gospel de-emphasizes hell as a converting tool (where heaven, ultimately, just becomes a matter of fire insurance), and focuses instead on heaven, and experiencing the Kingdom of Heaven here and now.
The chapter I just finished builds on this idea, as its on evangelism. All of a sudden, I feel more likely and energized to evangelize than I ever have before. No longer is evangelism a means of forcing religion on people with threats of hell and guilt trips, but rather it is a matter of pointing them to God. Granted, my skills do not lie in the direction of talking to people I don't know (contrary to popular belief, I'm not particularly outgoing), so I never really was able to do that. So, now, I still realize that I am pushing the boundaries of the Kingdom farther, just simply by living a life of love.
This view of life and Christianity has challenged me, however, in that McLaren makes the point that religion should also not focus on me, or you. It should focus on others. If we attract people to the church by their selfish desires (I don't want to burn in hell, therefore, I become a Christian), then why are we surprised when no one shows up to a ministry project that requires self-sacrifice?
So, I find myself once again on the narrow path. Not by my own works, but by those of others who have gone before me. Jesus, namely. St. John Chrysostom. Martin Luther. John Wesley. Brian McLaren. Each person calls me from my selfish little world, whose every whim is dictated by my ever fickle desires.
My faith should not just be a matter of me and Jesus (how many times have I preached that?). It must include all of humanity, and even all of Creation. Love and compassion are the tools to redeem, and God uses them through us, in us, with us to cleanse us from our myriad sins.
So, you who say you have faith, show me your works. Please. And allow me to join you in them, because I need the challenge and the push just as much as anyone.
After that, it can only go uphill, and that it does. Rather than give an entire review, there are some aspects he touches on that I think are vitally important for the church to take note of.
One of the two things was his view of how to do missions work. He commented that most of the church thinks of missions as what happens outside of the doors of the church, and ministry is what happens on the inside. However, he said that perhaps we should think of it less as two separate things, but rather as one extending from the other. Work done outside the church should simply extend naturally from the work done on the inside of the church. Since the mission of the church should be to extend God's love, regardless of whether a person is a Christian or not, then there's no division. One flows from the other.
McLaren's point takes the obvious division of 'us and them', 'Christians and non-Christians', and simply puts us all in one category, 'God's children in need of love'. This inclusive gospel de-emphasizes hell as a converting tool (where heaven, ultimately, just becomes a matter of fire insurance), and focuses instead on heaven, and experiencing the Kingdom of Heaven here and now.
The chapter I just finished builds on this idea, as its on evangelism. All of a sudden, I feel more likely and energized to evangelize than I ever have before. No longer is evangelism a means of forcing religion on people with threats of hell and guilt trips, but rather it is a matter of pointing them to God. Granted, my skills do not lie in the direction of talking to people I don't know (contrary to popular belief, I'm not particularly outgoing), so I never really was able to do that. So, now, I still realize that I am pushing the boundaries of the Kingdom farther, just simply by living a life of love.
This view of life and Christianity has challenged me, however, in that McLaren makes the point that religion should also not focus on me, or you. It should focus on others. If we attract people to the church by their selfish desires (I don't want to burn in hell, therefore, I become a Christian), then why are we surprised when no one shows up to a ministry project that requires self-sacrifice?
So, I find myself once again on the narrow path. Not by my own works, but by those of others who have gone before me. Jesus, namely. St. John Chrysostom. Martin Luther. John Wesley. Brian McLaren. Each person calls me from my selfish little world, whose every whim is dictated by my ever fickle desires.
My faith should not just be a matter of me and Jesus (how many times have I preached that?). It must include all of humanity, and even all of Creation. Love and compassion are the tools to redeem, and God uses them through us, in us, with us to cleanse us from our myriad sins.
So, you who say you have faith, show me your works. Please. And allow me to join you in them, because I need the challenge and the push just as much as anyone.
13 February 2007
Preaching
I've been doing a lot of thinking about preaching, as of late. Perhaps its because I've been preparing a sermon for a good portion of this week...
Regardless of the reason, preaching has been on my mind. This whole thing has become a lot more difficult than I remember. Maybe its just because suddenly the pressure is on, in that if I don't preach well in these next couple of days, I won't get the job in Maitland. Yes, I've preached before, but never in circumstances quite like this. I think I just need to relax a bit, probably, and leave more of it up to God.
Anyway, that isn't the main thing I've been thinking about, in terms of preaching. I've been batting around the idea of what I'll call 'dialogue preaching'. I'm not the originator of this idea, but I can't quite remember where I got it from, else I would credit my source. Just know that its not me.
In this form of preaching, you would choose a text and discuss it. For the sake of the ease, let's choose the Beatitudes. The small group of people would take these 12 verses and delve deeply into what exactly Christ meant, based on the context, the author's frame of reference and agenda, etc etc. Prior to the discussion, each person would be expected to have read and familiared themselves with the text, and necessary background information. This discussion would hopefully flesh out the angles on which to preach, as well as how to approach the subject.
There are several problems inherent in this, of course. One of them is that life happens...so, if no one does the work beforehand, the whole discussion will be lacking. The other is if everyone's opinions are widely disparate, it might not work to bring all of them together into one sermon. Also, if the one presenting the sermon is a bit pig-headed, there is the issue of them not giving justice to opinions that differ from theirs.
The upside is that the sermon goes from being a simple expression of one person's take on a passage, but the entire community gets to play a part in the presentation of the gospel from the pulpit. This interaction allows the gospel to become more relevant to each person's life and experience, something not to be neglected.
Again, as I've said, this is only an idea and possibility...I haven't tried it yet to see if it is practical. I'm interested in thoughts from others and whatnot, about its practicality or any other aspect. Word.
Regardless of the reason, preaching has been on my mind. This whole thing has become a lot more difficult than I remember. Maybe its just because suddenly the pressure is on, in that if I don't preach well in these next couple of days, I won't get the job in Maitland. Yes, I've preached before, but never in circumstances quite like this. I think I just need to relax a bit, probably, and leave more of it up to God.
Anyway, that isn't the main thing I've been thinking about, in terms of preaching. I've been batting around the idea of what I'll call 'dialogue preaching'. I'm not the originator of this idea, but I can't quite remember where I got it from, else I would credit my source. Just know that its not me.
In this form of preaching, you would choose a text and discuss it. For the sake of the ease, let's choose the Beatitudes. The small group of people would take these 12 verses and delve deeply into what exactly Christ meant, based on the context, the author's frame of reference and agenda, etc etc. Prior to the discussion, each person would be expected to have read and familiared themselves with the text, and necessary background information. This discussion would hopefully flesh out the angles on which to preach, as well as how to approach the subject.
There are several problems inherent in this, of course. One of them is that life happens...so, if no one does the work beforehand, the whole discussion will be lacking. The other is if everyone's opinions are widely disparate, it might not work to bring all of them together into one sermon. Also, if the one presenting the sermon is a bit pig-headed, there is the issue of them not giving justice to opinions that differ from theirs.
The upside is that the sermon goes from being a simple expression of one person's take on a passage, but the entire community gets to play a part in the presentation of the gospel from the pulpit. This interaction allows the gospel to become more relevant to each person's life and experience, something not to be neglected.
Again, as I've said, this is only an idea and possibility...I haven't tried it yet to see if it is practical. I'm interested in thoughts from others and whatnot, about its practicality or any other aspect. Word.
12 February 2007
Australia
I am here, in this sunburnt land.
A few anecdotes, from my journey:
I was sitting in my seat, a window, for the flight from Denver to LA. And, as any guy does, I was hoping that the person who would be sitting in the sit next to me would be a girl who was very solid and devoted to her Christian faith, and also stunningly gorgeous, and also well educated and intelligent and articulate.
And, of course, she would fall madly and utterly in love with me the instant she saw me sitting there, reading.
I quickly took myself to task about this, reminding me that life never actually works like that, and that I should be focused on preparing myself for my arrival in Australia. I had just managed to convince myself to read and not worry about the person who would be sitting next to me, when I saw the guy on the aisle stand up and someone slip into the middle seat. Hope beyond hope, I looked over to see if my wishes had come true.
"Sorry, guys," said the middle-aged guy taking the seat, "I'm not the hot girl you were waiting for."
Upon my arrival in Sydney, and clearing of Customs, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. There was gentleman in there at one sink, apparently having had the same idea as me. Here is our conversation, which looking back, isn't as funny as I remembered it. Either way, its my blog so I get to recount it.
Man: You from around here?
Me: No, sir.
Man: No sirs around here, mate.
Me: Oh, sorry.
Man: No worries. You can drink the water.
Me, confused: Oh. Ok.
Man: There's bloody little of it, with this drought...but what we have, is all good!
I had lunch with some friends, Steve and Heidi, as well as Steve's parents, who is the District Superintendent I was working through for my upcoming visit to Maitland. Steve and I were talking about Sydney, and the obvious reliance on tourism.
Steve: Yeah, we have a lot of tourists.
Me: Basically the US, right?
Steve: No, we have tourists from other countries.
Me: Oh?
Steve: Yeah. Um...Texas...?
Well, its been fun so far. I toured a bit of Sydney, and then ventured a bit more out into the bush, in rural New South Wales, which is where I might be working. I had forgotten how much I love this country, both in reference to Australia and the terrain itself. The scrub of the bush. I love it.
I have really only felt 'at home' in two places, Scotland and Australia. I had forgotten how much I love Australia until I landed on its sunburnt shores...or maybe this is God's way of telling me something? Either way, rural New South Wales is where I want to be.
The backbone of the church here in Maitland is a solid core of very devoted and faithful Christians. I've already fallen in love with them, and their devotion to reaching a fallen world with the gospel. I have very little doubt that I am called here, assuming there are no big surprises. It won't be easy, and will require massive amounts of personal sacrifice, but if that is what is required to truly live, is it even a question?
Your prayers and encouragement are much coveted, both for myself and the Wesleyan Methodist church in Maitland, as we try and discern God's voice in this matter. Cheers.
A few anecdotes, from my journey:
I was sitting in my seat, a window, for the flight from Denver to LA. And, as any guy does, I was hoping that the person who would be sitting in the sit next to me would be a girl who was very solid and devoted to her Christian faith, and also stunningly gorgeous, and also well educated and intelligent and articulate.
And, of course, she would fall madly and utterly in love with me the instant she saw me sitting there, reading.
I quickly took myself to task about this, reminding me that life never actually works like that, and that I should be focused on preparing myself for my arrival in Australia. I had just managed to convince myself to read and not worry about the person who would be sitting next to me, when I saw the guy on the aisle stand up and someone slip into the middle seat. Hope beyond hope, I looked over to see if my wishes had come true.
"Sorry, guys," said the middle-aged guy taking the seat, "I'm not the hot girl you were waiting for."
Upon my arrival in Sydney, and clearing of Customs, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. There was gentleman in there at one sink, apparently having had the same idea as me. Here is our conversation, which looking back, isn't as funny as I remembered it. Either way, its my blog so I get to recount it.
Man: You from around here?
Me: No, sir.
Man: No sirs around here, mate.
Me: Oh, sorry.
Man: No worries. You can drink the water.
Me, confused
Man: There's bloody little of it, with this drought...but what we have, is all good!
I had lunch with some friends, Steve and Heidi, as well as Steve's parents, who is the District Superintendent I was working through for my upcoming visit to Maitland. Steve and I were talking about Sydney, and the obvious reliance on tourism.
Steve: Yeah, we have a lot of tourists.
Me: Basically the US, right?
Steve: No, we have tourists from other countries.
Me: Oh?
Steve: Yeah. Um...Texas...?
Well, its been fun so far. I toured a bit of Sydney, and then ventured a bit more out into the bush, in rural New South Wales, which is where I might be working. I had forgotten how much I love this country, both in reference to Australia and the terrain itself. The scrub of the bush. I love it.
I have really only felt 'at home' in two places, Scotland and Australia. I had forgotten how much I love Australia until I landed on its sunburnt shores...or maybe this is God's way of telling me something? Either way, rural New South Wales is where I want to be.
The backbone of the church here in Maitland is a solid core of very devoted and faithful Christians. I've already fallen in love with them, and their devotion to reaching a fallen world with the gospel. I have very little doubt that I am called here, assuming there are no big surprises. It won't be easy, and will require massive amounts of personal sacrifice, but if that is what is required to truly live, is it even a question?
Your prayers and encouragement are much coveted, both for myself and the Wesleyan Methodist church in Maitland, as we try and discern God's voice in this matter. Cheers.
06 February 2007
The West
The West.
The west has always held a certain magic for me. It is my favorite of cardinal directions (not something which many people consider enough to have a 'favorite' one of). But, I've always loved west. In my life, it has come to symbolize all that I really love in the world.
When I was younger and my family would go on vacations, we always went west. It was the direction of freedom, of time off, of exploration...of the unknown. It quickly came to embody the direction of adventure. Any new frontier, decision, or experience came to become a mental trip into the west. That was how I thought of life...one long trip west.
School, civilization, crazy relatives (well, most of them, anyway), pollution...all that was east. East also came to represent heading back to those things after a time of fun. East came to mean the finish. Contrary to all religions, where east means the rising sun and new beginnings, for me it meant the fun was over and drudgery was looming again.
Whenever I'm driving anywhere, and I have to take a highway east, it hurts me. Perhaps this is sad, and I need to just get over the whole thing...but, east still has the residual feeling of bad. West is the place of the horizon, unbroken by the blemishes of 'Western civilization', a concept I find myself becoming less and less fond of. It is the place of wide open expanses, freedom.
One of my theology professors once said that, in Hebrew, the word salvation has its linguistic roots in the Hebrew word for 'wide open spaces'. Far too often, we as a church make salvation into a thing of oppression. Live as we do, or else it is to the fiery place of damnation for you. Do everything right, or you will soon quickly find demons eating your flesh, on an eternal time scale. Take all these burdens, and go...live your life. Your life that was already difficult and full of burdens a'plenty, live it now with these extra demands on your time and your person.
No. I fundamentally disagree. I have found in my own experience (and as a good Wesleyan, that is the final testing ground of decisions) that only when my faith went from being a plethora of rules did it become my faith. It became not a thing handed to me by eloquent men standing behind pulpits, but something blossoming from deep within my soul. No longer was it an external thing, but it became something that filled my being.
Salvation is not simply a form of eternal fire insurance. It is not a list of rules you should follow, in order to sing for eternity with a bunch of winged folks playing harps. It is a life of plenty, of abundance, of freedom and joy. It is the Kingdom of Heaven bursting forth inside of us, so explosively that you have no choice but to share it, to let others experience it as powerfully as you have.
It is the west. Salvation is an unbroken horizon, devoid of the corruptions we place on the landscape in the name of 'advancement'. It is the creation, given to us as stewards by the Creator Himself. It is eternity, here and now, but not just here and now...it is started now, but will continue on forever. To the horizon and beyond. Salvation is a journey into the west, the land of the setting sun, with the full knowledge of the sun rising again tomorrow. It is a journey into night, with the hope and eager joy accompanying our anticipation of the morning.
The west is also a place of quiet. No longer will we be plastered by constant waves of noise and distraction. It is the place where you can hear the thunder of silence, feel it, taste it. For only in the deafening silence can we hear what we must truly hear...truth. For words always fall short in description, never able to fully grasp the fullness of truth. We only can see through a glass darkly, after all.
But, into that horrifically frightening and yet all too invigorating silence, that often walked and yet still pristine salvation...into that expanse, we are called to go. Called not just by the God in whose image we are sculpted, but by the yearnings of our souls. Our hunger for the eternal calls us to great things, to great distances. It is a never-ending journey, as all worthy quests truly are.
This post has slowly gotten larger and larger, originally intended to discuss my impending trip to Australia, which I'll leave a majority of for a future time. I find myself filled with fear as I think about my trip deeper into this west, this salvation. My new venture into the unknown is terrifying. The trajectory of my life will be decided within the next month or two. Stepping into this new adventure, this wide open expanse...that much freedom, that much open space is unsettling. Silence is overwhelming. But, that is the nature of the journey. Push through it. The fear passes. The unsettled worry fades away. Just keep going. Push on. Hold your course.
The course I take? I find celestial navigation to be the answer.
Second star to the right, and straight on til morning.
The west has always held a certain magic for me. It is my favorite of cardinal directions (not something which many people consider enough to have a 'favorite' one of). But, I've always loved west. In my life, it has come to symbolize all that I really love in the world.
When I was younger and my family would go on vacations, we always went west. It was the direction of freedom, of time off, of exploration...of the unknown. It quickly came to embody the direction of adventure. Any new frontier, decision, or experience came to become a mental trip into the west. That was how I thought of life...one long trip west.
School, civilization, crazy relatives (well, most of them, anyway), pollution...all that was east. East also came to represent heading back to those things after a time of fun. East came to mean the finish. Contrary to all religions, where east means the rising sun and new beginnings, for me it meant the fun was over and drudgery was looming again.
Whenever I'm driving anywhere, and I have to take a highway east, it hurts me. Perhaps this is sad, and I need to just get over the whole thing...but, east still has the residual feeling of bad. West is the place of the horizon, unbroken by the blemishes of 'Western civilization', a concept I find myself becoming less and less fond of. It is the place of wide open expanses, freedom.
One of my theology professors once said that, in Hebrew, the word salvation has its linguistic roots in the Hebrew word for 'wide open spaces'. Far too often, we as a church make salvation into a thing of oppression. Live as we do, or else it is to the fiery place of damnation for you. Do everything right, or you will soon quickly find demons eating your flesh, on an eternal time scale. Take all these burdens, and go...live your life. Your life that was already difficult and full of burdens a'plenty, live it now with these extra demands on your time and your person.
No. I fundamentally disagree. I have found in my own experience (and as a good Wesleyan, that is the final testing ground of decisions) that only when my faith went from being a plethora of rules did it become my faith. It became not a thing handed to me by eloquent men standing behind pulpits, but something blossoming from deep within my soul. No longer was it an external thing, but it became something that filled my being.
Salvation is not simply a form of eternal fire insurance. It is not a list of rules you should follow, in order to sing for eternity with a bunch of winged folks playing harps. It is a life of plenty, of abundance, of freedom and joy. It is the Kingdom of Heaven bursting forth inside of us, so explosively that you have no choice but to share it, to let others experience it as powerfully as you have.
It is the west. Salvation is an unbroken horizon, devoid of the corruptions we place on the landscape in the name of 'advancement'. It is the creation, given to us as stewards by the Creator Himself. It is eternity, here and now, but not just here and now...it is started now, but will continue on forever. To the horizon and beyond. Salvation is a journey into the west, the land of the setting sun, with the full knowledge of the sun rising again tomorrow. It is a journey into night, with the hope and eager joy accompanying our anticipation of the morning.
The west is also a place of quiet. No longer will we be plastered by constant waves of noise and distraction. It is the place where you can hear the thunder of silence, feel it, taste it. For only in the deafening silence can we hear what we must truly hear...truth. For words always fall short in description, never able to fully grasp the fullness of truth. We only can see through a glass darkly, after all.
But, into that horrifically frightening and yet all too invigorating silence, that often walked and yet still pristine salvation...into that expanse, we are called to go. Called not just by the God in whose image we are sculpted, but by the yearnings of our souls. Our hunger for the eternal calls us to great things, to great distances. It is a never-ending journey, as all worthy quests truly are.
This post has slowly gotten larger and larger, originally intended to discuss my impending trip to Australia, which I'll leave a majority of for a future time. I find myself filled with fear as I think about my trip deeper into this west, this salvation. My new venture into the unknown is terrifying. The trajectory of my life will be decided within the next month or two. Stepping into this new adventure, this wide open expanse...that much freedom, that much open space is unsettling. Silence is overwhelming. But, that is the nature of the journey. Push through it. The fear passes. The unsettled worry fades away. Just keep going. Push on. Hold your course.
The course I take? I find celestial navigation to be the answer.
Second star to the right, and straight on til morning.
04 February 2007
Beginnings
Well, I have succumbed. I got a blog. This is mainly to stop people from asking me the same questions about my life. I have been looking for a chance to practice my writing, though, so you all get to be my sounding board(s).
A few explanations, to begin.
First, the name comes from a conversation I had in Scotland. I met up with an Australian gentleman during my 70 mile hike of death, and anytime you are carrying 40+ lbs of gear on your back and someone wants to stop and sit down and talk, you jump at the chance for a rest. So, I talked with him for awhile. At the end of our little discussion, he said "well, I will remember you as the wandering priest." I felt honored, and somehow encouraged, so I have kept the idea, albeit changed a bit.
Secondly, the 'thoughts from the left hand' is not a political reference. Yes, I do have politically leftist leanings, but the true meaning lies elsewhere. In most cultures, the right hand is the place of honor, whether in banquets or in formations for battle. The daggers and such were always kept in the left hand, seen as less than honorable methods of combat. That is where I see myself fitting into the Kingdom of Heaven. This is not a time of me looking down on my place in the Kingdom, however. It is simply me saying a very valuable piece of any king's army was the skirmishers, the ones willing to fight in the gutters and use less than conventional methods of accomplishing goals. That is where I fit in. I am nothing if not unconventional.
And so ends post number one. I do not promise consistent or even often posts, although that might happen. I do not promise profundity (such a weird way of saying 'profound things'), but hopefully that to will happen. I do not promise to keep in touch other than with this website, and yet that could happen as well (this is the least likely to happen, to be honest). I promise nothing. So, take it for what it is. Word.
A few explanations, to begin.
First, the name comes from a conversation I had in Scotland. I met up with an Australian gentleman during my 70 mile hike of death, and anytime you are carrying 40+ lbs of gear on your back and someone wants to stop and sit down and talk, you jump at the chance for a rest. So, I talked with him for awhile. At the end of our little discussion, he said "well, I will remember you as the wandering priest." I felt honored, and somehow encouraged, so I have kept the idea, albeit changed a bit.
Secondly, the 'thoughts from the left hand' is not a political reference. Yes, I do have politically leftist leanings, but the true meaning lies elsewhere. In most cultures, the right hand is the place of honor, whether in banquets or in formations for battle. The daggers and such were always kept in the left hand, seen as less than honorable methods of combat. That is where I see myself fitting into the Kingdom of Heaven. This is not a time of me looking down on my place in the Kingdom, however. It is simply me saying a very valuable piece of any king's army was the skirmishers, the ones willing to fight in the gutters and use less than conventional methods of accomplishing goals. That is where I fit in. I am nothing if not unconventional.
And so ends post number one. I do not promise consistent or even often posts, although that might happen. I do not promise profundity (such a weird way of saying 'profound things'), but hopefully that to will happen. I do not promise to keep in touch other than with this website, and yet that could happen as well (this is the least likely to happen, to be honest). I promise nothing. So, take it for what it is. Word.
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