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.
27 February 2007
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.
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