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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.