Balance is a tricky thing. You don't sort it out once then let it take care of itself for the next twenty years. And while there are different checks that help to maintain or move back to balance, it's always going to be an ongoing process.
Depending on how you're wired, if you're left to your own devices and inclinations, you'll either default to a lazy bugger who wishes they didn't struggle with procrastination, or to an over-committed, over-worked maniac. There's a continuum there, but most people are likely to be some darker or lighter shade of grey in the black and white that bounds each end of the scale.
For me, balance has always had to be an intentional thing. Left unattended I head towards the darker end of the scale (yet seem well capable of procrastination at the same time). I think that's called multi-skilled—or an affliction...possibly both.
The trouble is, there's so many fun things to do in life. So many opportunities, 'people to see and places to go', kilometres to run, books to read and stuff to write, work to do, quality conversations to have, people you'd love to invest in, and opportunities to serve God with our heart, soul and mind...but there's only 168 hours in a week. And 24 of those 168 hours he calls us to rest! If only so many of these things weren't enjoyable, fulfilling and inherently good. And if only some of them weren't so incredibly intoxicating.
We all have different sized engines. Our capacities are different. Some are exhausted by a 40-hour week, some thrive on double that. Comparisons aren't helpful although an understanding of our uniqueness is important.
Peter Brock appeared in a television commercial once that contained the line 'I've always said, bite off more than you can chew, then chew like hell'. Great fodder for the Type A's of the world. Also great fodder for dysfunction.
So, a couple of thoughts for the time-poor and balance-impaired to get back to where you once belonged: 1. Submit your schedule to God—He's got a better idea of balance than all of us put together.
2. Passionately pursue what's in you and then get into that stuff. Learn to say no to the alluring and essentially good things that come your way but are beyond either your capacity or your understanding of calling.
3. Get your head around the things that make your life spacious and are typical of your life in balance. Whether it's praying, reading, time alone with God, walking the dog, running, journaling or catching up with friends for coffee; have an understanding of what they are. Knowing what they are might give you a better chance of recognising the early warning signs of the balance shifting.
4. If you no longer have the time to do the things that give you pleasure, or you don't derive pleasure from the things that once did, it's time to make some changes.
5. Surround yourself with some people who know you and your capacity well enough to know when the fulcrum is shifting and needs readjustment. Make yourself accountable to them.
6. Be bold enough to question your load and realign and recalibrate. Create regular times to review so you can track how you're doing.
7. Know your capacity. Continue to grow your awareness of your tipping points.
8. Factor margin. Don't expect things not to grow. Don't expect to have perfect health all the time. Don't expect everything to track along like some controlled lab experiment. Have enough space to accommodate the ebb and flow of life while knowing that from time to time unaccounted for stuff comes along that blows the whole ship out of the water. There are times when you have to chew like crazy—don't drop your bundle, chew!
9. Teachers have DOTT time, others have TOIL or RDOs, make sure you've got yours.
10. Have the ability to name your Sabbath and the ways you keep it holy.
11. Don't use a list like this as a reason for saying 'no' to any new thing, but understand that commitments work in concert with everything else, not in isolation.
12. Understand motive. Some of the reasons you'll commit to stuff maybe a bit warped.
13. Perspective is a beautiful thing when it comes to balance. A change of location or context allows us to think things over again.
14. Don't beat yourself up. Unless you're some kind of freak, or comatose, you're likely to get out of whack every now and then.
Paul said in Galatians 6:4, ' Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.' The easiest thing to do in all of this is compare yourself to others as justification or to puff yourself up or deflate yourself. Don't. It's about who you are and the work you've been given.
Got to go...there's some re-aligning to do.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Got a bit on?
Get back to where you once belonged
Friday, September 28, 2007
How far is too far?
No, I’m not talking about dating in high school. I’m talking about to what extent we let something grab us—how much time, energy and money do we give to a particular passion/hobby/fixation?
Since embarking on the journey to making great coffee, I’ve met some extremely passionate people. These people sit as far as possible on the other end of the spectrum from those who see coffee as nothing more than a hot energy drink. For them, coffee is a story rooted in history, it’s a science, it’s a life-long romance. In the pursuit of consistent perfection, there are options such as single origin milk (milk from the same paddock of cows), heated debates on whether ‘to tap or not to tap’ and the availability of $13,000 espresso machines employing the latest technology. Those in the game say their mission is never complete; they will always be searching for new ways to perfect the espresso.
This kind of devotion isn’t peculiar to caffeine-lovers; one can go as far as one wants along any given path in the pursuit of excellence. If it’s the Lord of the Rings you’re into, you don’t need to stop at reading the book and watching the movies. You can learn the language of Elvish, join a virtual Middle Earth community and subscribe to the Lord of the Rings Fan Club glossy, bi-monthly magazine.
If it’s mountain climbing that takes your fancy, you can spend hundreds of thousands of dollars buying the necessary equipment (and life insurance) and hundreds of hours training mentally and physically.
I find this single-mindedness and wholehearted dedication to pursuing excellence inspiring. These sort of people often make good business people because it’s always easier to sell something you’re sold on yourself. They’re also the sort of people who corner you at parties to tell you all about their passion.
I think the apostle Paul was a fan of extreme devotion. (He might also have been a bit annoying at parties). He tells Timothy in a letter: “Pursue a righteous life—a life of wonder, faith, love, steadiness, courtesy. Run hard and fast in the faith. Seize the eternal life, the life you were called to…”
I think we’re wired to get into things. It’s interesting that when something is taken to the extreme, there’s often no other way to describe it other than in religious terms. In espresso, the perfect shot is called a ‘godshot’. Those who stand on the top of Everest usually describe it as a spiritual experience. And we all know Lord of the Rings geeks are part of a cult.
So the answer to how far is too far? I think the sky’s the limit. The challenge is to apply our passions to the way we relate to God and our purpose for being here—to wholeheartedly pursue righteousness. Is there something you’re into in a big way? That’s great. Just try and demand the same level of devotion from yourself in regards to your faith.
Any suggestions as to how this can be done?
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Work. Rest. Play.
Part Three: Play
Sure, it's taken me a while to get to Part Three, but I've had reasons: 1) What do you say about play if your work has a facet of play? 2) what do you say about play if you rest has a facet of play? and 3) the lack of intentionality about embracing the play component that would have got this post written earlier! Procrastination probably deserves a dishonorable mention as well.
I guess a good place to start would be with the intersection of work, rest and play.
If I only define work as 'that activity that generates an income that sustains me and my family' then I leave out a lot of 'work'. For as enjoyable and rewarding as some rest and play is, there's generally some work involved as well. As enjoyable as a good run might be (it would feature in my rest and play), it can be hard work as well. So, there'll always be overlap.
I think it takes work simply to make the space to play. Intentionality at least. To meet up with friends requires organisation, planning or spontaneity and coincidence. With the exception of coincidence, you've got to do something!
Anyway, back to play.
I scribbled down a bunch of reasons why 'play' is a better than good thing while I was waiting for someone the other day. I'm running with the loose definition of 'play' as some physical, spiritual, social or intellectual activity that invigorates, recreates or stimulates the mind, body or soul - yep, that's pretty broad.
Here we go:
1. Play takes us beyond ourselves
All work and no play can make Jack a dull boy. Healthy play (ie. non-destructive play) has the potential to drag us out of the introverted caves of our mind into spacious places.
2. Play breathes life into us
Without play, it's easy to furrow a pretty deep rut or dig a pretty deep hole that makes it difficult to look beyond ourselves. A rest/work/rest/work cycle has the habit of grinding us down by degrees. When we're acutely aware of what's going on, we can arrest the decline and be intentional but it's possible to dig so far down that we create a new normal where our lives as boring farts become so much 'us' that we know no different.
3. Play gives reason for rest.
If all work and no play make Jack dull, the solution isn't to ditch all the work and play all day. Work, rest and play operate in concert. Rest all day for too long and you'll probably end up in some disengaged, numb funk. Work all day for too long and you'll end up slowly or rapidly dislocating yourself from the world around you. Play all day for too long and you'll a) go broke pretty quickly, b) find that your play begins to lack meaning and purpose, c) find yourself chasing ever-greater 'highs' to top the last great experience.
I think there's a God-ordained rhythm at work with the trinity of work/rest/play that makes a lot of sense. Whether it's an unhealthy over-developed protestant work ethic or not, I find that I enjoy my play more when I've done a decent chunk of work to make sense of the play. After a long, hard week, play is something to revel in as a way to recreate and hit refresh. If it's been a tawdry week of work, I'm less inclined to even feel like playing—I'm more likely to continue the trend and waste away the weekend as well.
4. Play activates the body's rhythm
If you're in a deep hole, play can be the catalyst for extraction. I read a book last week that talked about a runner who, following a big marathon, spent the next twelve years being unable to race or train at the same level. In the end he was recommended a (legal) drug that effectively 'restarted his engine'. The analogy in the book was that he'd been like a truck ascending a hill stuck in a low gear—it didn't matter how hard he pressed the accelerator, it wasn't going to make much difference to the speed the truck traveled up the hill. What would change the speed was getting the truck to change into a different gear. The drug 'unstuck' the athlete.
I think play is helpful in getting 'unstuck' sometimes. It can remind us what it means to be fully human all over again. It can reset the rhythm of our body to enjoy the work/rest/play cycle in a way that's sustainable.
6. Play is contagious
Most play involves other people. There's an element of community, camaraderie or journey about it. Your decision to play can be the kick-starter for another person as well. Parties happen because someone (or a bunch of people) gets highly contagious with their play—in a good way.
7. Play = Rest (sometimes)
Often the things that wake us up through play invigorate us as well. There's rest embedded within some forms of play.
Final thoughts
Something that I realised as I ruminated over the whole work/rest/play deal was that we fill our time with some things that don't fit into any of these three categories. Procrastination certainly doesn't. There's a whole lot of TV watching that would fall in the 'mind-numbing category' rather than having a play or rest element.
And where does ministry fit into this? Work? Rest? Play? All three?
And how about parenting, relationships, volunteering, discipling or a bunch of other intrinsically worthwhile endeavours?
While rest and work may be necessary for our survival (physically and financially), without play it can yield a life that simply exists rather than one that embraces a spacious appreciation of people, creation and the essence of ourselves.
I think I'm discovering that I need each of these three and yet knowing you need something doesn't necessarily lead to action. There needs to be an intentionality as well. There's nothing attractive nor enjoyable about being a slob...but few people arrive at being a slob intentionally—it's a product of a myriad of non-decisions. Not just physical slobbery either, but mental slobbery as well. There's plenty of people who find themselves in front of seedy late-night infomercials and struggling with lustful thoughts because they didn't make the decision to go to bed 3 hours ago. Just a thought...
Work is good. Rest is good. Play is good. None should be exclusively flogged to death or it will flog you to death.
Yep, I'm out.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Occasional Ensemblee Series:
We're all alone.
I sms'd a mate last night with a wee poem I'd just read:
I believe in myself slowly
It takes all the doubt I have
It takes my wonder
With his kind permission, here's his interaction with the poem in the small hours of Tuesday morning:
The loneliness in me is hard to hide, it’s my humanity. I’m lonely when I realise there’s more to life than my own small minded desires and needs; beyond the bounds of my existence there is a vastness my life can never fill or exceed, encompass or capture. We gain nothing real as we pretend to be complete in ourselves. To be a hero and disown our most human aches is a facile denial. Far harder to accept the frailty of time passing like water through grasping hands. Greatness is found by learning not to lie to ourselves. A bravery that doesn’t feel or recognise the anguish of loss can’t honestly be called courage. There’s nothing profound about certain or unshakeable faith; The conviction of our faith is found as we’re rocked to the core of our certainty, buffeted and tried by the vast unknown storms as we struggle to hear the voice of the wind. I am here awaiting. This is hope and it’s a lonely intimacy; I can’t share a map of my heart with you at midnight. This is hope and it’s borne out of my loss. This is hope, that there’s something other than myself.
Loneliness is our reminder of company and a promise that companionship has meaning. If I feel an overwhelming solitude, it’s only because I can remember a time I wasn’t alone. I can’t truly regret something I haven’t experienced. We live in deferral, waiting to be reunited. Held in our humanly discrete moments, we’re hoping to understand the continuum bridging the gaps between us. Loneliness itself is part of the continuum: a reminder, a memory and a longing for all the prodigal moments to return. Loneliness is the emptiness of a heart that’s given blood and waits for time and effort to pump it back around.
Loneliness isn’t the end. Why do we stay alone like we’ve been backed into a corner when our solitude reminds us, is beckoning us to remember all the discrete, abandoned moments we’ve left behind in our search for newer, more thrilling relationships? We’ve been contented with spun concoctions and fragile crystalline ephemera, insubstantial gossamer rewards that can’t sustain our weight instead of the ties that should bind us together. There is no reason for surviving in this moment unless we help each other survive it together.
Let me not be swayed by the convictions of this modern life, that the organic and holistic nature of feeling is insufficient and requires an upgrade. In the absence of anguish we become content with imitation plastic and pacemakers, where once we had a living heart of most human flesh. Let the bad always help me recognise my responsibility to return what is good in my life.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Work. Rest. Play.
Part Two: Rest
By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.
In Part One we were all about work. In Part Two we're talking about a Sabbath and a rest. Without wishing to warble the theology of the Old Testament, I'm wondering whether the two are very different things. Perhaps it's possible to enjoy them both on the same day, but it's worth figuring out the distinction as we go along.
Pretty much any biblical reference to the Sabbath that I mention here will be well known. And that's a pretty good place to start. We all know the premise that God was laying down within the story of His creation. So often though, the premise and praxis find trouble connecting. God hasn't had a break since so His rest was more likely a not-so-subtle nod and a wink in our direction rather the result of him being all tuckered out.
So, let's kick off with the Sabbath. It's always a good way to start or end a week (depending on how you've decided it makes the most sense or what church you've grown up in).The Israelites are to observe the Sabbath, celebrating it for the generations to come as a lasting covenant. It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested.
Informed by a healthy Protestant work ethic (or unhealthy - depends on your worldview), I'd always figured that observing a Sabbath infered that you're working the other six days. That's not an unreasonable assumption, nor an unreasonable practice. Yet I read verses like Exodus 35:31 (It is a sabbath of rest, and you must deny yourselves; it is a lasting ordinance), and my opinion starts to waver.Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.
Our Sabbath is for God. It's not for our indulgence. It may be a day for serving Him in different ways (worship, hospitality, administration, justice, mercy...the list is long) or it may be a time for resting from those things (if they're what's work for us) so that we can keep a day holy. And what does keeping a day holy mean? It means a day dedicated and consecrated to Him. A day of rest probably isn't frenetic or ridden with anxiety—a day centred on God is unlikely to yield those outcomes.
While we're at it, is it good enough to say that we can rest and Sabbath on the same day, or are we indulging ourselves on God's clock? Without getting legalistic yet staying biblically faithful, what does a great sabbath look like? Even as I tap away I'm reminded of the Essenes, a bunch of hard core blokes before Jesus time, who believed that if Israel could just muster one perfect Sabbath, it would trigger the coming of the Messiah. Must have been a bummer when someone stuffed up...
The perfect Sabbath doesn't come from our legalism, the perfect Sabbath rest comes when we submit our all to the Lord, accepting joyfully his promised guidance through a “narrow way” to the Kingdom. It's when we rest from our own works, from all effort to justify ourselves. We confess ourselves to be imperfect and unworthy of Divine grace, and unable to make ourselves worthy. And we gratefully accept Divine mercy extended toward us in our redemption through Jesus.
So, if our Sabbath is a time for denying ourselves and seeking God, when does the rest come? Sure, we find our rest in God but, in the context of work, rest and play, where does the rest fit in.
Fortunately, we're not left with a Torah alone to navigate through our weeks. Jesus came to fulfill the law. And what does he say about the Sabbath? Far a start He declares himself Lord of the Sabbath. Then he puts the Sabbath in perspective by saying: "The Sabbath was made to serve us; we weren't made to serve the Sabbath. The Son of Man is no lackey to the Sabbath. He's in charge!" (I'm not completely sure he said 'lackey'—I think that's Eugene's work.) You can tell me what you make of Jesus' words, but what I get out of it is that the practice of a Sabbath was designed to bring us back to God; a trigger for re-consecrating ourselves. The Sabbath is the period in the paragraph. It resets the meter of things.
So often, we deviate by degrees. We don't so much go awol and take out the guy who won't give us breakfast, more often we just veer a little, then a little more, to the left or right of true north. I think the Sabbath is intended to recalibrate our souls so that again we respond to our God. Maybe we haven't drifted at all. Maybe we're ready to raise the rafters with our God-songs and God-deeds, but maybe we need to raise our heads and bow our heads to discover His greatness and glory covering our brokenness. I think this is what Jesus meant when he said 'the sabbath was made for man'. I think this is what the Sabbath's all about.
And where does rest fit in?
Some of the activities and practices that become part of a well-intentioned Sabbath can make us blimmin' tired. They tire me sometimes. So, where does the rest fit in? If our Sabbaths are intended to be days of self-denial, when do we recover? While we work? On the job? Or is there room for rest somewhere or somehow else?
And what is rest to you? Because my guess it's different for each of us. My first thought when I hear the word 'rest' is a good sleep, but in the context of recalibration and rejuvenation it's quite different. A restful weekend for me (the best place to get me some rest) would probably contain a decent run, some writing, breakfast at a café, a bit of reading, some cricket or AFL viewing while lying on the floor, and some cooking. If I put my head on the pillow on a Sunday having worked some or all of these around some Sabbath action, I'd be well-rested.
That needn't be you. I think my brother-in-law would stick pretty rigidly to 'a good sleep' as a definition for rest. And his not wrong. Some people would find a few hours of shopping restful. Yeah, that's not me. The big deal about resting well is figuring out what you classify as 'activities of rest' and practicing them.
I know some excellent 'resters' (see the above paragraph for an example). I don't mean that they're lazy. They work hard in their jobs, they offer themselves freely outside of their working lives, but they know how to rest and when to rest. Either they've figured out or wrestled with the biblical principle of the Sabbath and grown in the discipline of rest, or they're naturally predisposed.
Both a Sabbath and a scheduled time of rest require discipline. It often requires discipline to do things that ultimately or immediately restore us. I don't think that's contradictory, it's just life. Sometimes we're so lazy we don't even do the things that give us rest. Weird, but true.
Work requires rest. And rest assumes that we go back to work. And somewhere in there we've got to play a bit as well. So as not to get all dull and stuff.
Until we play, rest up!
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Work. Rest. Play.
Part One: Work
A couple of stories I read and heard a couple of weeks back got me thinking about the logical rhythm of life we were created to live as opposed to the contrived, distorted and perhaps more artificial version to which we've adapted in our third millennium convalescence.
The first story I heard was about the prevalence of diabetes due to poor diet. Effectively, obesity-induced bad health.
The second was the effective treatment of severe depression amongst middle-aged men.
And the third was the treatment of the most appropriate treatment for women enduring the effects of menopause in their middle-age.
Each of these stories were utterly independent of each other yet, perhaps predictably to some, the treatment for the relief, reduction, or apprehension of these conditions was the same: exercise. In fact, in the case of the depressed cohort, exercise outperformed the most effective drug by quite a margin.
It got me thinking about the nature of our lifestyle in 2007 versus God's original intention for us. Before I wind back the clock and get all agrarian on you, I just want to talk about pattern and rhythm. Largely because what we've done, through great, convenient, time-saving, life-giving advancements, is create an environment that allows us to ignore the work, rest, play rhythms of life.
Where do I start?
Let's start with this: work is good. A hard day's work is good. And a hard day's labour is great. God followed a 6 day on, 1 day off pattern and it worked pretty well for him. The creation story tells of no plant having sprung up in the field because man wasn't yet available to work the soil. The concept of work is pre-fall. That's to say: it's consistent with a humanity fully restored to its creator. Genesis 2 reads: The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.
This is one of the 538 references to work in the NIV. Admittedly not all of them are in the context of work that I'm talking here, but you can bet that a whole bunch of them are.
When a gaggle of slackers in the church at Thessalonica (I can't come up with a better collective noun for slackers than gaggle on the fly) decide that Jesus is coming soon so they best give up their day jobs and wait for the rapture, Paul rains on their tedious parade and says: "If a man will not work, he shall not eat." Paul was a bit of a worker too.
Solomon was also partial to a little work. He has the Proverbs 31 woman pretty much running the universe on her own and throws out a stern rebuke or warning to the idle in Proverbs 6 with this little gem: A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man.
I don't really need advocates for the idea of work though, I just need a little more justification for the benefits. This is where it will get a little tough to keep the 3 parts of the Mars Bar separate. And that's appropriate, because from get-go God has been all about integration. The idea that work, rest and play should be connected and overlap is a little obvious. For the sake of a three-part strategy though, let's try and contain this post to work.
While I'm no medical practitioner (not even a closet one) I reckon the reason behind exercise being a solutions to a multitude of maladies has a whole lot to do with endorphins. Endorphins are a by-product of hard labour. And they make you feel good. They have an analgaesic effect Prolonged physical exercise will do it for you although a bunch of scientists have hypothesised that the high comes comes as much from completing a challenge as it does from exertion. Either way, it works for me. Through their analgesic effect on the body, the release of endorphins results in a state of euphoria for the satisfied receiver.
So here's what I'm thinking: in the rhythm of life that we were created to enjoy, our work was part of the healthy mind/healthy body balance. While my work is largely sedentary and needs to be supplemented with exercise to attain this balance, the rhythm of life back in the day would have yielded a bunch of endorphins each day. Dad went off to work and worked hard. Dad was fit. Dad ate plenty because he was hungry from a hard day's work. But he was also blimmin' satisfied in his labour. The endorphins released by his effort and accomplishments made sure of it.
Obviously it's not all about work. For a start that wouldn't make for a trinity of posts. And it would eventualy make Jack a dull boy—though perhaps not as quickly as all play and no work would.
I've got to stop as my body clock is calling for the second installment of the series right now.
Before I go though, what's your experience of work? Does it energise you? Reward you? If you're in an active job, do you come home tired and satisfied...or just plain tired. And how is it linked to your spirituality and your relationships. Is it connected or is it separate? How do you address the sedentary nature of your job with a body that craves endorphins for its own sanity?
Monday, July 16, 2007
Greatness.
From Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, 1601:
"...Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em"
(Malvolio)
Given that the overwhelming majority of the population considers themselves 'above average', which one of Malvolio's three options are you?
Better still, what have you got to say about greatness?
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Cacophony Interviews: July 2007
Peter Birt, Pastor et.al.
On a Wednesday in the middle of May, Peter Birt – pastor, runner, football fan – and my uncle – was diagnosed with bowel cancer. The following Friday, he went in for surgery and came out fitted with a colostomy bag. I spoke to him in early June – the day after he left hospital – about the journey so far. Here are some highlights of that conversation...
PB: Yeah, so...you go to hospital, and suddenly you’re an invalid. And you’ve got nurses saying ‘you will need to be shaved’ and it’s embarrassing, you know, and you’re just this helpless...invalid. And I was really grateful for some Scripture that I’d memorized...out of 1 Corinthians that says,
I care very little how you judge me – or any human court. Indeed I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me.
And I found that concept incredible helpful when you’re going through all the indignities...You say, I care very little, it matters very little, it is the Lord who judges me, my worth and value and sense of identity come from him. So I found myself going over that Scripture while they’re snipping away, doing all that stuff. Which helped, I guess, to cope with embarrassment and indignity.
Prior to it all...there was another verse that I memorized the previous week or two weeks before, 2 Peter 1:3 that says,
His divine power has given us everything we need for life – and I gather the word means an abundance of life – and for godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us according to his own goodness and glory.
And it just struck me, those two things, life and godliness. His power is available for whatever life throws up but then it’s available for godliness which I took as being a God-centered, Christ honouring response to what was happening. So when I became more conscious [following the surgery], I just went over and over those Scriptures and other stuff...because I knew I just had to keep my mind...focused I suppose or renewed by truth...I just found that incredibly helpful and I’m so grateful that I had a whole lot of Scripture...
C: The spiritual disciplines have been a big part of your life for a while now…It sounds like they were really helpful?
PB:Absolutely helpful. One of the things I found most reassuring out of all this is that that stuff matters...There’s so many days over the course of a long walk with Jesus that you don’t particularly feel like reading Scripture, or you don’t particularly feel like praying or, for many years I made fasting part of my practices and you don’t feel like it, your stomach gnaws away. But what I found was just this overwhelming sense that it was worth it, it really counted for something. When the tough time hits, I’m not starting from scratch...You do the training off the spot so that on the spot, you instinctively do it.
I think some people kind of expect that you will fall to pieces, and I was always aware that that could happen; I’ve got great capacity to do that. It may yet happen, I don’t know. But when I look at the Scriptures and see things like Psalm 16,
I have set the Lord always before me, because He is at my right hand I will not be shaken.
You know there’s some reality there that seemed to become...
[Peter’s eldest granddaughter arrived. Peter really loves his grandkids…]
Yeah, so I want to shout to young people in particular, the disciplines matter, hanging out with Jesus matters, consciously doing it, being intentional. You might not feel like anything is happening but it is, and you cannot overestimate miles walked or kilometers walked with Him, intentionally, seeking to live in His presence, setting Him consciously before you. It matters. And you reap the benefits of it. It’s like there’s a reservoir that has something in it, as opposed to just trying to face it on empty, which I can’t imagine how hard that must be.
C:I know your family have been really important through this. What about other people? Has there been any interaction or impact?
PB: Yeah, huge. I’m so grateful, I got so many cards and emails and messages and people sending us, a couple of people sent us cheques... One totally anonymous one just blew us out of the water, we’ve got no idea where it came from, there’s been all of that, tremendous support, people who are praying. Then, I think at one stage there were about six people a day who would come through, and that’s even with our own home church being banned from coming because we didn’t want an influx. And just the conversations around the bed have been amazing, talking in depth about stuff.
...I was really encouraged, I eventually discovered two of [the nurses] were Christians and they would just drop in for social visits after a while and we had some fantastic conversations...
[In this situation] I’m just a normal person and my role as a pastor means absolutely nothing, I’m just this old fella lying in this bed... I began to think about what does it mean for the Kingdom of God to come in this body as it now will be? Or what does it mean for the Kingdom of God to come to this bed? And then I expanded that to what does it mean for the Kingdom of God to come to this room? And I thought about how if the Kingdom of God came to a location then there would be beauty, and so I was really thrilled that people had sent flowers and I was thinking, ‘Yeah, that’s what it would be like if the Kingdom of God had come’. And then Jill had had a birthday on the Monday and so she’d brought some balloons in that someone had given her for her birthday, and I thought, ‘I’m so glad that these balloons are in my room, in a somewhat sterile surrounding, they add a bit of life’. And I thought, you know, if the Kingdom of God came, there would be life in the midst of what’s happening.
And then I thought, there would be meaningful conversations if the Kingdom of God came, and so I made it a point of praying, ‘Lord, I don’t know what today holds, but if there’s anything, any way that my life can be an open book for other people, then I’m available, I’ll talk with them.’ So I’d quietly pray for the nurses.
And then with these two nurses… I’d talk with them and say, ‘this is how I’m wrestling with what it means to live in the Kingdom in my circumstances, how do you guys do it?’ And we had great conversations...
But then a whole bunch of other people came in, and generally speaking, the level of conversation was below the surface. There were a couple of instances where it was surface stuff, but generally it went down underneath, and we talked about what it means to walk with Jesus in these kind of circumstances. And in that sense, it was absolutely rich and life-giving and soul-replenishing.
C: I know you’ve talked about it as an ‘apprehensive adventure with Jesus’. What does that mean for you?
PB:Initially, it meant: I was apprehensive – I don’t like pain, I don’t like people fossicking around with my body, thank you very much – I’m somewhat private, by nature. I certainly didn’t know initially what the future would hold. So for example, I love running, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to run again. So there’s all sorts of apprehension – what else might I not be able to do that I can now do. How will I cope with the pain, how would I cope with the emotion, would I get depressed? Apprehension – don’t know.
On the other hand, adventure because: Years ago I memorized or adapted a little phrase that says,
Discipleship is walking with Jesus in the real world, having him teach me moment by moment what it means to live life his way.
And that’s an adventure. So I thought; this is just a new adventure in knowing Him in circumstances I had never been in before. And I wonder what I’m going to learn about Him, I wonder what it’s going to be like to walk with Him through this phase of my life? Maybe he will rub some of the rough edges off that drive me nuts. Maybe I’ll get refined and I’ll end up looking a little bit more like him, maybe His love will become more real or present or be amazingly sustaining, I don’t know. It’s an adventure of getting to know Him in my real world that’s changing. That’s what was behind that concept.
I think out of that, came something that I hadn’t thought much about: That the formation of Christ in a person’s character; I had tended to think that that’s good for me, that Jesus will make me more like Him and so I will be more comfortable being me. What I came to see through my time in hospital was that the formation of Christ in me is for the sake of others. Yes, there’s a benefit for me, and ultimately it’s for Him, but there was a fresh sense that it’s for others, that what happens in others as a result of what he does in me is more important. And part of that meant being willing to open my life up, rather than shut it down, to be in the light, because people can’t see what Jesus is doing in you unless you’re in the light. So I deliberately chose that when people said, ‘What do we say to other people?’ I said, ‘Tell them that this is what is happening.’ I had no sense of keeping it a secret – this had to be in the light, or else I can’t see how Jesus can use it.
Which then led to some reflection on healing. I firmly believe that Jesus has the power to heal, and I was praying before I went in to the operation, with Jules and Brad and Jill, ‘Lord, if you want to, you could still heal and I would love you to do that.’ But the more I reflected on it later - I have a neighbour next door who has had two lots of cancer treatment, and another neighbour across the road who is currently going through a form of cancer treatment, and I thought, imagine if I come waltzing back saying, ‘Wow, they opened me up and miracle of miracles, I was healed! Woo! Isn’t God good?’ I’m not sure that that message would have as much capacity to glorify God as me coming back and saying, ‘Guys, this is new to me, what have you guys learnt? How are you coping?’ And then maybe, along the way, having the opportunity to say, ‘The support of people has been fantastic, blah blah blah, BUT, I also found that my relationship with God has deepened and that He’s sustained me.’ I just wonder whether that’s actually a little more powerful than just saying, ‘Wow, I’m healed, what happened to you?’ Which would be horrible...
In all of this, one of the things I’ve [been] wrestling with is the issue of whether I’m in denial. I’ve surprised myself...that I seem to have been fairly positive, and yet I know I’ve been depressed [in the past]. I know what the dark and melancholy side of life is. So I’ve been thinking, it might sound like I’m in denial, but it doesn’t feel like that. But, it’s always a possibility. Or maybe the issue is that you don’t know...
C:I pretty regularly get asked to pray for people who are in situations like this. There were a lot of people praying for you - did that make a difference for you?
PB:Oh, yeah. I felt, I think, I’ve been sustained because people have been praying. So in Phillippians it talks about, being in prison or whatever he’s been doing and he says, with the help of the Spirit and your prayers, and I go, ‘Yeah, I’ve experienced both of those’.
One of the interesting things I’ve noticed is, I have family members who aren’t followers of Jesus and it really struck me powerfully when I rang them to tell them. They’ve got nowhere to go with it, so they’re shattered, going, ‘Oh, I can’t imagine what that must be like.’ Yet when I tell a Christian, even though they may be not necessarily a burning hot Christian, they’ve got somewhere to go, and they’d say, ‘Oh, right,’ and they’ll be shattered, but they’ll say, ‘Well I’ll be praying for you.’
And so yeah, I felt incredibly supported and sustained by the prayers of God’s people. And really grateful to know that people were praying. If you were to ask me, what did I want them to pray? I would say, I want somehow Jesus, the reality of Jesus in me to somehow shine through whatever happens. Again it’s that wonderful thing, I think it’s John 12 where Jesus is wrestling with what the future holds for him and says,
So what shall I say, Father save me from this hour? No for this reason I have come. Father glorify your name.
For me that...it’s not about being saved from it, that would be great, but bigger than that, it’s that Jesus life and presence and reality somehow shines through and impacts people. But yeah, greatly supported and consciously thought of that, I think people’s prayers have really counted.
C: Has God been teaching you anything about himself?
PB: Over the last few years I’ve been reading through the Psalms with one of the kids from youth group...I think every Psalm has at least one verse underlined – every psalm except one – and one day I read through the ones that I’d underlined, and again I was amazed at how God is a living, interacting, present God. That he’s this refuge and that he acts on behalf of those that trust him, that just came through. I kind of want to say to people who are going into hospital, you know, if it’s been your practice to set him before you, then you can expect that you won’t be shaken half as much as you might be, because he is a rock, and he’s present, and he’s powerful and sustaining, and you can expect that. Yeah it might be tough but you can expect that the unshakeable God will pour some of his unshakeableness into you...
One of the things that struck me really early in the piece was the mechanisms of walking with Jesus on the Wednesday of the week before I knew any of this were no different from the mechanisms of walking with Jesus on the day that I discovered I had cancer, or the day of the operation. That internally, it’s the same processes, that you wake up in the morning and talk to Jesus and say, here I am today. I surrender to you, I trust you with what happens today, whatever it might be, and then you walk with Him. And if life kicks you in the guts you tell him about it, you say, ‘Oh, this really hurts, I never expected this but thank you that you’re there and I give this over to you’. And if there’s some joy in your life you capture it and say, ‘Lord, talking to these people was such a joy-filled experience, thank you for allowing me to do that’. So the internal processes are exactly the same and if you’ve got them in place, then you know how to deal with what happens. Sure it’s a bit more significant perhaps, but the processes are the same.
C:How high is the horizon from here, how far out are you looking? Are you looking forward in time?
PB:Well, in two weeks time I’m talking to the surgeon who will put me onto an oncologist who will begin a process of chemo and radiation, and I have absolutely no idea how I will respond to that, I’ve heard stories of how some people say, ‘I don’t know what all the fuss was about,’ and breeze through. I’ve heard stories where people are absolutely wiped out and they can’t work and then all shades in between... My church where I work has been absolutely fantastic, they said to me, you’re a staff member, we want you as a staff member, if we see very little of you over the next six months that’s ok, if we don’t see you over the next six months that’s ok, if we see a lot of you over the next six months that’s ok, we’re there with you. That’s an amazing gift. So, in terms of looking life expectancy, I don’t know. I just want to live well in whatever the next little bit holds. And I want to learn, I want the adventure to continue. I suspect that this is going to be lot tougher than what I’ve been through. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have constant nausea, and I am a physically active kind of person, to not feel like being active. I don’t know what any of that’s going to mean. So I suspect that that might be a far bigger battle.
C:But the processes are the same?
PB:The processes are the same, yeah. They might be harder to do. But [for example], my practice is to journal, and yet in hospital, I went over a week without journaling and yet I survived richly. I didn’t open my bible, and yet, just to be able to pray through the Lord’s Prayer as an extended paraphrase was a wonderful thing because I’ve done it many times before and I could invent new tracks. Or a stupid little thing that I found incredibly value was just going through the alphabet and thinking of attributes of God. I’d think of some A’s, think of some B’s, and then sometimes link As and Bs together, Cs and Ds together, Es and F’s together, and sometimes do nouns, sometimes do verbs. And in utter weakness I could lie there and in my head do that. And it builds your soul up with God. And it was a way of setting Him before me in my utter weakness. And it was sustaining. So yeah, the processes are the same.
C:It’s a very affirming story of God’s power...
PB:Yeah, He’s real. I wrote about 10 points in my journal and one of them is - Jesus is real. For me personally, it’s been really reassuring that this stuff matters, and it comes home to roost. And it’s not just the processes that come home to roost, it’s the reality of the One that the processes are about. His sustaining, nourishing, replenishing, rock-like life, comes real. I remember lying in bed, I couldn’t get to sleep because the nurses had been in and out and just going, Oh, Lord, I love you so much because you love me, just overwhelmed by the sense of his loving presence. It was so real, palpable. Will that be there all the time? No – and it hasn’t been. If anything, I think earlier on it was heightened, and it’s a little bit more mundane now, but man, I’m convinced that you just keep on clocking up the miles...
Peter is currently undergoing his second round of chemotherapy and radiation. He preached last Sunday - you can find the podcast here.
A month later I'm still processing the things I learnt that afternoon...
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
This lyrical gem from Pink Floyd has been rolling through my thoughts for a week or so.
Somehow it sprung to mind while walking to work one morning, pushing through what was a very challenging week where Simone and I were forced to consider walking away from our life here in South America. I thought about our desires and ambitions that we had placed on our time here in Peru, and what it would mean to fulfill them, or to not be able to fulfill them, or to actually voluntarily let them go. The thought arose in my head of how, while desire and ambition can propel us towards some great stuff, it can also be one of the biggest encumbrances to doing what we are really called to do.
Last week my meloncholy thoughts spawned the “sad songs say so much” post which was born straight out of our situation. It was a tough week, we had to battle through a circumstance that was far outside our control and it ate at our relationship, our sleep, our joy, and ultimately our desire and ambitions. It was the darkest of times indeed. As the worship team at our church prayed with me (in Spanish – but its ok because God knows a bit of spanglish) I came to the realization that although we were in the middle of a dark time, it was actually my desires and ambitions that were snuffing out the very small candle of hope. Hanging onto what I wanted was really causing me some Matthew 6:25 anxiety.
I desired to be here for a certain amount of time, had ambitions of saving money to meet a certain goal, conquering the Spanish language, and a bunch of other stuff. I thought they were God’s ambitions too, but maybe I just hoped more than really thought they were. It wasn’t till I really looked at the reality of walking away from all of that, and saw what could be if I did, that I realized that God actually does know what he’s doing (duh). Simone and I gave our situation to Him with the most faith that we could muster, and with a decision to act in faith and bear the consequences.
If I am un-encumbered by my desires and ambitions, then it does not scare me to let them go. It does not worry me as much to change them or have them changed for me; in fact it’s actually exciting. I mean, it’s been a great ride so far, imagine what’s coming round the corner then! So, in the words of Frou Frou, we let go, jumped in, what were we waiting for (its alright, there is beauty in the breakdown!). A breathtaking thing to do for us people addicted to budgets and spreadsheets and 5 year plans (it was breathtaking to come here in the first place, but even more breathtaking to consider having to leave).
But great was Thy faithfulness, and it was handed back to us (stop me before I pull out some cheesy Sting lyrics). God beat us to it and saved us from a very tricky situation, gave me courage to stand in the face of a very strong challenge, and changed the heart of the decision makers before I could even address the matter with them.
I have been thinking long and hard about that week. I have been considering what it means to have desires and ambitions. Thinking about Ps 37:4 and what desires do I want God to put in my heart. Do I let my desires and ambitions encumber me, or do I look for the ones that God is handing to me and allow them to set me free. There's an ongoing challenge, but constantly difficult as it requires regular renewing of the mind.
And the full verse, just in case you’re racking your brain as to the next line of that Pink Floyd song, is as follows, and I find them more than a reminder of a state of mind I'd like to keep moving away from...
Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times
High Hopes – Pink Floyd
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Christian Scholarship
The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand, but we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers.
We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well the minute we understand it we are obliged to act accordingly. "My God", you will say, "if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How will I ever get on in the world"?
Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the church’s prodigious invention against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible becoming too close.
Oh, priceless scholarship, what we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the Living God. Yes it is even dreadful to spend time alone with the New Testament.
Soren Kiekergaard.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Spacious Miracles
Think quick: which of Jesus' miracles do you remember first? There's no winning answer, just something to get us off and running.
In an internal monologue (probably a dialogue given there was Q&A involved) during my Sunday morning run, I settled on one...
Riverview had a Miracle Offering Day on Sunday for all our Riverview Trust initiatives and while I was considering what I might talk about with the team I lead as a foray into leading our church in worship, I got thinking miracles.
My answer took me back to Year 9 at Wesley. Before I get there though, the miracle:Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the miraculous signs he had performed on the sick. Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover Feast was near.
When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.
Philip answered him, "Eight months' wages would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!"
Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, spoke up, "Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?"
Jesus said, "Have the people sit down." There was plenty of grass in that place, and the men sat down, about five thousand of them. Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.
When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, "Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.
After the people saw the miraculous sign that Jesus did, they began to say, "Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world." Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.
I want to write a few words about Jesus feeding the 5000 but first, let me just say this: my theological understanding of what went on is fairly simple. Jesus took the lunch of a boy who was willing to give sacrificially and blessed it. Something miraculous and supernatural took place that was inaugurated by Jesus and activated by the obedience and faithfulness of the disciples. The food didn't multiply upon being blessed, it multiplied upon distribution. While there's plenty of significance to be gleaned from the miracle, I just want to leave my understanding of it there for the moment.
I guess it was a neat and salutary message to selfish school boys. Heretical in my humble opinion, but neat and salutary nonetheless.
As I reflected on this on Sunday morning, I realised that whether or not it was accurate to the events that might have taken place 2000 years ago, the notion of behaving spaciously was demonstrated in the telling.
Our words and our action inspire and grow, or deflate and diminish those around us. Our attitudes are contagious. And, from that perspective, we're all leaders. We're all capable of building up or tearing down. Unintentionally or intentionally.
The Apostle Paul recalled a principle regularly considered in Proverbs when talking to the church at Corinth:Remember: A stingy planter gets a stingy crop; a lavish planter gets a lavish crop.
I vote yes to miracles that can only be explained through the supernatural. I also vote yes to the authority of Jesus to be the steward of those unexplainable signs and wonders. Yet I also vote yes to the (often miraculous) notion that you and I, through going about our sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life with eyes on eternity, can change the flavour of the world around us. We can be positively contagious. There's truth in it.
Live creatively friends.
(PS. On reflection, 'water into wine' was probably my 'top of mind' miracle...but I don't have a Year 9 story about water into wine. And that's appropriate.)
Thursday, June 21, 2007
My symphony
After a big month of much stretching...people...events...conversations... thinking and more, a quote from William Channing helps me gain perspective on the big and small.‘To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy not respectable, and wealthy, not rich. To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; To listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with an open heart. To bear all thankfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconcious, grow up through the common, this is to be my symphony!’
- William Channing
Life is full of the common, yet our take on the small and large of life, can turn the daily into a symphony or into a torture chamber.
Reminders that encourage me to be thrilled by the leaves flickering from the winter sun, tempted by the sound of a loved one whispering not much, the pound of the footpath heavy under legs that can still walk or the caramel of sugar dissapearing through the foam of a chai latte.
Appreciating the small, to increase the size of my heart. That my friend is the timing and notation of my current symphony...
A
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Talking 'bout a revolution
I am currently reading “The Irresistible Revolution – Living as an ordinary radical” by Shane Claiborne. Blue Like Jazz and Velvet Elvis etc are like the PG13 versions – this book is definitely R-Rated Christianity (so to speak, you know what I mean).
I have been avoiding blogging about this book because frankly, I don’t know where to start. Every page is blog-worthy. Furthermore, the content of the book is making me deal with my own Christianity to the point where I do not feel in a position to write about what is going through my head, or my heart. I say that I have to deal with my “Christianity” for the simple reason that it's not my faith that I am struggling with, but the manifestation of that faith, what I’ve been convinced is the normal and right way to act out what I believe, what I can and can’t take notice of and just exactly what is the socially and morally acceptable distance to maintain from the outworking of the love that Jesus has given us (I say this tongue in cheek, of course - the distance should be very short if not negligible!).
So Shane Claiborne wrote this book. It’s a damn good book. It is very challenging, I’ll say it again, very challenging, for a person like me. I grew up a pure-bred; a pastor’s kid who was loved and fed both physically and spiritually in a loving family environment. I have never been underprivileged in any way. Things were never handed to me, but through hard work I know will be able to provide for my wife and family without too much care. We give of our income both inside and outside the church. You’d think that’d get you off the hook when it comes to all those bits in the Bible where Jesus says to give to the poor etc. Shane is beating that mindset out of my thick skull page by page. It’s very uncomfortable for two reasons: 1. It means I have to do something about the inequality around me, and 2. It took a book other than the Bible for me to realize some fairly important stuff about what I believe in.
Shane is young and smart, very smart. Kind of one of those guys you know would have an answer in any debate, because he’s lived it and come to those conclusions himself. He knows the Bible and has put a lot of it into action. He’s worked with Mother Theresa (or Momma T as he calls her), we went to Baghdad when the US were bombing it to bits to be with the Christians there and do church with them, he spends a lot of time living on the streets with the homeless just to love them. He doesn’t have a job but lives in a run down community in the toughest neighborhood in Philadelphia, a community where almost every person is below the poverty line, but they live together and do church together every day, as a lifestyle. The teach each others children, pool their money to meet each others needs, take care of and pray for each other, as a lifestyle. Not as a weekly church meeting, but as a daily personal and corporate mission. He does all of this because he is in search of a real Christian, and that search begins with himself. And the whole crux of the book comes down to three quotes that he uses. The first two are:
“We can not do great things, just small things with great love. It is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it” – Mother Theresa.
“Ask the poor, they will tell you who the Christians are” – Gandhi.
The third quote is so significant it needs its own entry on this website, and that’s what is posted in the entry below this one (the one with the Rage bit). Its this last quote which has inspired me the most. I have had a heavy heart when reading this book. I get upset inside about what’s happening to this world, about the materialistic call of the west, the inequality, and a whole bunch of other stuff. The problem is that the upset part is inside, not outside. This book is poking me very hard and relentlessly about doing something. What – I have absolutely no idea. But I think it all boils down to Momma-T’s little quote up there. Choosing to make a difference in every decision I make, the way I react to people, what I do with my money etc etc.
The US Coast Guard has the motto “So That Others May Live”. It’s very noble. They carry out every minute of their working day with this motto in mind (or so the movie “The Guardian” would have you believe). Funny thing, I’m a little scared that as Christians we are (I am) not even close to this realization. What’s my motto? What’s the church’s motto? What’s the motto for my marriage? It's all stuff that’s been poking me very hard.
Anyway. This topic is a can of worms and I have very few answers or even angles from which to debate. I am not trying to form any type of conclusion here; my thinking is far too premature for that. But I guess I’m starting to think about the change in the world that could take place with a little imagination, thanks to Shane, and I think that with the forum of readers that this website draws, the outworking of such change would be very effective for the Kingdom, and a lot of fun. Don’t read Shane’s book if you want to stay comfortable. If you’re not fond of change then I’d suggest you leave it on the shelf in Koorong (or Amazon). But in reading this I think that it should be in the hands of every Christian in the west. I say the west because after reading what Shane says about the Christians in the eastern nations, it’s definitely us who have our sock on the wrong shoe. I’ll leave it at that. Buy the book.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Don't you know who I am?!
My friend Justine told me a story yesterday about the most irate customer she'd ever had to deal with. She was working with a large national furniture company (known for their liberation) while the customer was the figurehead of a prominent wine company (two names, '&' in the middle). In the course of an animated discussion that followed some goods being damaged through the rough handling of the customers' courier company, the customer, demanding a replacement, began to explode down the phone: 'Don't you know who I am?'.
On and on, louder and louder...'Don't you know who I am?'...'Don't you know who I am?'. Aside from being rude and obnoxious, I was tickled that someone actually used the phrase seriously. I've heard people use it in jest, never legit.
It got me thinking: How often do we, by our words and actions (or maybe our thoughts), exclaim at some level: 'Don't you know who I am?'.
How often does someone wrong us, or treat us differently to how we feel we deserve, or ignore our needs and we respond somewhere inside, 'Don't you know who I am?'
We all crave justice—particularly for ourselves. Perhaps we all crave a level of recognition too. We want to be treated consistent with 'our station'...whatever that is. And when we're not, we feel wronged in some way.
And then there's Jesus...Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!
Jesus, who had every right to demand authority, every right to assert dominion and every right to reign and rule, asserted none of these things. Paul tells us here in Philippians that he actually does the complete opposite...he becomes a servant. Interestingly, given that he was 'in very nature God', he was all these things all the same. Yet he had no need to assert authority—it was recognised in Him.
Isaiah tells us that: He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. And yet the lamb to the slaughter is also the Lion of Judah. Only Jesus makes sense of this kind of tautology by modeling it. Mark writes Him saying: 'If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all'.
But...Don't you know who I am?
We discover that, for Jesus, the answer was absolute: Yes.
Jesus revealed to us what the Kingdom of God looks like in contrast to what often prevails on earth. His ministry was chiefly about this revelation and become the means by which we are restored to God. That restoration is, in large part, a growing understanding of the economy of the Kingdom of God as opposed to what we've commonly experienced. And the two are a whole lot different.
I guess the bigger question is: 'Don't you know who He is?'
As we discover who Jesus is, we discover all we are because of Him. We also discover who we're not. As Luke wrote in Acts: 'It's in Him we live and move and have our being'. Paul wrote to the Ephesians: 'It's in Christ that we find out who we are and what we're living for'. I don't think we get this once and are done with it. Discovering who He is a continual process. A journey, a wrestle, and in a completely tautological fashion, as we lay down our lives we discover what it means to be human. Better still, part of a new humanity.
Conversations like this could (and often do) go on forever. This one is going to stop in blog form real soon. But not without action. The laying down of our agendas to follow him is active after all. Paul's all about action in Philippians:Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus...
Do you know who you are?
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Only bad things happen quickly (ceteris paribus)
I'm (occasionally) reading through a book Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart - 30 true things you need to know now. It's an eloquent and incisive read but, at the end of the day, it probably fits most neatly in the 'pop-psychology' genre. I'm ever learning though: truth can be found in a multitude of places. It's available to everyone. And it points us to God.
In a society based on consumption, instant gratification's easy to spot. We crave instant results. We want to drop 10kg in the first week of our diet. We want to run 10km without training (and without blisters). We want to experience intimacy without investing time.
A friend told me recently of the number of people standing in line for Australian Idol who proudly boasted they'd never had a singing lesson, yet couldn't sing to save themselves either. We don't want reward for effort; we want a manifold return for simply showing up.
Gordon Livingstone, the author of the book I mentioned earlier, reflects this thought:Somewhere along the line we became an impatient people, expecting quick answers to our difficulties...
The process of building has always been slower and more complicated than that of destruction. Wisdom is gifted over time. Love grows richer over time. Investments mature over time. Fitness accrues one step at a time. Degrees are acquired through study over time.
While epiphanies, miracles and supernatural interventions are a reality for the People of God, the greater part of our journey is a steady walk—the glad ox as my friend Brad puts it. One foot in front of the other. A deep furrow of wholeness, discipline, love and community.
While the initial reorientation prompted by repentance may be a radical change, it is honed by degrees. One foot in front of the other.
We crave the miracle relationship and the serendipitous chance meeting with our soon-to-be-lifetime-soulmate. And granted, these moments happen. Thank God. Yet there is still a journey of soulcraft that invariably precipitates that glittering moment. A steady refining of the character that makes union a possibility. A refining that leads to people finding joy in each other and in God that didn't come cheaply or without change.
Eugene Peterson, in Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, writes sweetly:We are here to be formed over our lifetimes into a community of the beloved, God's beloved who are being formed into a people who love God and one another in the way and on the terms in which God loves us. It's slow work. We are slow learners. And though God is unendingly patient with us, we are not very patient with ourselves or one another.
Our transformation is daily and requires what Petersen articulates Paul's word to the church at Rome as passionate patience. Passionate patience is not grim or masochistic—it's laden with hope and expectation. It's not a come-back-in-a-year-and-see-what-happened kind of patience; it's the watchman waiting, it's the lighthouse keeper monitoring every movement to see what might happen next. And it's active. Passion is active. There's work to be done in the waiting and in the walking...and we're not shy about that work.
And just because the journey of goodness is gradual, it doesn't mean it's boring. It's good. Both in the moment and along the way. It can be a wild ride of gradual goodness. And increasingly good. Albeit with excursions and tangents, excuses and sidestreets, but also with a rich, evolving, integrated story.
The prophet Habukkuk wrote:Write this. Write what you see. Write it out in big block letters so that it can be read on the run. This vision-message is a witness pointing to what's coming. It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait! And it doesn't lie. If it seems slow in coming, wait. It's on its way. It will come right on time.
Bad things tend to happen quickly. Good things take time. Take your time.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
New Norcia Reflections: Confession
I read through a book today titled 'Confessions of a Pastor' by Craig Groeschel. Perhaps inspired by one of the 100 things you should do in your life post (Read through a book in one sitting) or, more likely, because I simply had the opportunity.
Groeschel, Senior Pastor at LifeChurch, comes clean about a bunch of stuff. The sub-title, 'Adventures in dropping the pose and getting real with God' gives you some idea where the book heads. In 10 chapters he confesses to plenty with chapters like: I Can't Stand a Lot of Christians; I Have to Work Hard to Stay Sexually Pure; Most of the Time I Feel Incredibly Lonely; I Hate Prayer Meetings; I Stink at Handling Criticism and I'm Afraid of Failure.
It's well worth a read. And it got me thinking. I write from New Norcia Benedictine Community - a community where confession is fundamental to spiritual wholeness. It's not a 'hang it out there' kind of confession that's broadcasted on your local Christian TV channel, but it's a 'deal with it and move forward' kind of confession.
Confession and repentance go hand in hand. Often they work together or are the catalyst for one another. Confession is only purposeful in concert with repentance (I'll have to have a think as to whether I agree with that last sentence later). Talking about it without the intent and desire to turn in another direction becomes hollow. John the Baptist preached to that end in Luke 3:8 saying 'produce fruits worthy of your repentance'.
What I discovered again as I read through Confessions is that as we drop the pose, as we become more transparent, and as become more vulnerable, we simultaneously become more human. Our bravado and our charade hides our reality and before too long we can forget who we are beneath the layers of try-hard effort.
As we drop the pose we also allow God to work in and through us. It's hard (or impossible) for God to work in and through our charade...He can break in on it but not work on it. After all, it's not us to start with! When we get real though, when we get repentant, we give God a shot at transforming us.
I've always thought that the Bible verses that become our life verses can say as much about our own condition as they do about Jesus' saving grace.
I'm often writing about Galatians 6:4-5 which says: 'Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.'
Many times a week I wake up or go to sleep recounting Psalm 139. Aside from being a beautifully poetic Psalm, it reminds me that I'm treasured by my heavenly Father.
Here's the thing: within those two passages are three of my confessions.
First, I compare myself to others more than I ought - that's why I need to remind myself not to and remind myself that it's about what I'm meant to be doing more than what you're meant to be doing!
Second, I tend towards extremes. It's probably why I write so many posts under the 'Strenuous Wholeness' label. I overrate myself and become prideful in one breath, then pay out on myself and crucify myself in the next. Somewhere in between is a health that's only attained through soulcraft (strenuous wholeness) and God's love. The Galatians passage reminds me not to be impressed with myself, but to do the creative best with my own life. Period.
Third (and not finally, because there'd be much more to confess to if I wanted to punish you) is that I need to be reminded of God's unconditional love for me. Psalm 139 and verses like 1 John 3:1 remind me of this. They remind me I cannot run from His love, nor hide from his hand. 139 reminds me that nothing comes as a surprise to God and that he knows the script long before I play it out. And it reminds me that that He guides us on towards eternity.
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there be any wicked way in me and lead me in the way everlasting. (Ps.139:23-24)
Our openness before an omniscient God isn't really hanging it out there too much. It's ourselves we risk being honest with. The upside is tangibly huge...
How about you? Any life verses to get out there? Any confessions that could move you towards an authentic humanity in Christ?
Just wondering...
Friday, May 18, 2007
New Norcia Reflections: Servanthood
I've retreated to New Norcia this weekend - a monastic town a couple of hours north of Perth by car. I come here often for quite reflection, recalibration and refueling. Basically the equivalent of a car service...but for the soul. Sometimes it's that stuff I come away with. Other times it's more serendipitous.
Eating with the monks is always a treat. Aside from the silent nature of the meals, there's always something on the reading list to pique the curiousity. It's monastic practice not talk during meals, but to have one of the monks read. The meal is considered an extension of the prayers that precede the meal. Tonight it was Colossians 4 then 1 Thessalonians 1 and then into a book on Western Australia's legal system from 1829-2005 - a natural segue I thought.
At the meal's end, the reading monk runs over the 'necrology'. For those who don't delve into a necrology after each meal, it's a recounting (in this context) of the various monks of this order who died on this day (May 18) over the years. They are cited for remembrance and prayer (some interesting theology there but we'll keep moving). The necrology tonight remembered, among others, a monk from Subiaco in Italy who was a 'retired abbot'. This got me thinking: abbots retire. In an order where a vow takes 3-5 years to genuinely 'begin' - and then lasts a lifetime - the abbot (the father of the community) can retire.
Outside of the dining room where it's fine to resume normal conversation, I approached the Abbott. "According to the necrology, Abbot's retire", I said.
He replied: "Yes, at the age of 75, the Abbot offers his retirement to his superiors in Rome who then consider if they will reject it or, if they consider there may be grounds for change, they will put it to the vote within the local monastic community".
He continued: "This is interesting for me...I'm 75 next year".
Failing to betray my transient evangelical piece of turf, I enquired: "Do you have any sense of what you'll do?" To which he gave a great reply: "I am a monk. It is not for me to think about these things. If they have thoughts on it, they will let me know".
"You serve at His pleasure", I added. He nodded knowingly.
As I walked away, the first verse that came to mind was Paul telling the Corinthians that he was a 'slave to Christ'. In an age when we deliberate over the ways we can be most effective for the Kingdom or seek out opportunities where we can shine our light the brightest, the Abbot in four words reminded me of my purpose. I am a slave...to Christ.
Beyond all else, followers of Christ exist for His good pleasure and His glory. Wherever we find ourselves or see ourselves, it is our honour to serve the Master. Sure that service will take on many hues, textures and flavours, but they are all informed by humility and servanthood.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
"All's fair in love and war"
I don't buy this little proverb. I know it’s about the end justifying the means, but I have found that neither love, nor war is at all fair on anyone!
I couldn’t think of two things that strip people of fairness, especially individuals, more than love and war. I would go as far as to ask that if you have found your experience of love to be completely fair to you – is the state you’re experiencing really love? Despite the denial of this fairness to an individual caught up, the stories of beauty and glory shine brighter than the darkness that marks our individual and corporate history.
And it’s these stories that we like to remember in the adventure of love and war. Perhaps we realize that fairness really isn’t the point. Even-handed treatment of everybody doesn’t allow us the opportunity to be truly human. As Christians we believe that we carry certain characteristics of God. We are Imago Dei – made in his image and I would propose that it is not our physical characteristics that are his image, though all those anthropomorphisms in the Bible help us to think that way. What if the image we carry is more qualitative?
God is a god of sacrificial love and don’t we feel so real, so alive, when we say “hang fairness, I’ll give more than I will receive in this relationship”? We understand horror and injustice exist in our world, but it is in the face of this that we arise and show our mettle. We fight individually and as a community because sometimes we believe Goodness or some ideal is worth fighting for. Does this remind us of the Creator, and also of who we are? Redemption, the choice of love, jealousy and high ideals ring so true with us because Truth himself epitomizes these things.
I’m not sure I’ll ever understand love, or war, but I’m starting to see why the stories of both occupy my mind and heart. Perhaps the occasional unjustice of it all is another opportunity, another chance to become who I am, to be like my God, to rise above easy fairness and pour myself out for someone else.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Turning Green
A few decades back you would have guessed a story called 'Turning Green' was a tale of envy. These days it's more likely you're thinking this is a post about our love of the environment, our aversion of greenhouse gases or our infatuation with Al Gore. But it's envy I'm on about...
I realised sometime earlier this week that I've gone through a few streets of envy along my journey. Perhaps not the typical sort but, then again, they all tend to amount to the same root: I want something you've got.
When I was 18 and could see an international running career ahead of me, I got injured pretty bad. It was something that the medical population of Perth (and parts of Melbourne) couldn't figure out. It was referred pain into my right leg and it stopped me running for a long time. While there were good years of running in there, it's always been a case of managing pain since then. Interestingly, during these years of enforced non-running, I found myself walking past total strangers and thinking, 'you don't need a perfect right leg but I do'. I'd make imaginary exchanges with them. Say, my dodgy right leg for their sore wrist. I figured that unless they weren't running 140km a week they probably wouldn't find my leg that problematic and, hey, I was up for a pesky wrist.
Years later, I remember seeing couples arm in arm or in deep conversation and thinking, 'you don't know how fortunate you are'. 'You need to see yourselves through my eyes...then you'll really value what you've got'.
Over the last couple of weeks I've noticed time-rich people with a touch of envy. Seeing the same guy at 130s casually reading his book, or my neighbours taking their twins for long 2 hour walks and thinking 'I want that now...you lucky mongrels!'
Envy takes many shades of green. None of them particularly healthy because they're all pointing to discontent of some kind. I certainly don't write this with a sense of joy...envy is insidious and rarely leads to joy. If you're going to have these pangs of envy though, my thought is: let them go somewhere productive rather than somewhere nasty. Let them help you appreciate that you can walk (or use your wrists!), or be grateful for the fine friends you have around you. Or let them challenge you to remedy what you're missing. Better yet, let those feelings propel you to seeking satisfaction in all the right places.
Paul wrote to the Philippians: I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.
Perhaps I'm the only one around here that gets a little green every now and then. Or maybe I'm not alone.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
A cure for concern
On the occasions I find myself buried beneath an avalanche of tissues, suffering from a blocked nose and sore throat, I suddenly wish I had the health I enjoyed last week and the ability to soak up the sunshine and engage with people. It’s the same with holidays; I used to take for granted those uni breaks that stretched on forever but now that I have four weeks a year instead of four months, each day is measured out like gold dust. What I’m trying to get at is how it often takes something negative to make you notice the positive.
I’ve been a bit stressed about money lately. I’m on the verge of taking on a mortgage and have been figuring out how I’m going to survive on a part-time wage. To compound my nervousness, I lost my bank card a few days ago and had to scrounge around in the back of my car for coins to pay for petrol – twice (unfortunately, it was a complete excavation the first time).
Today I went to tutor two boys and chatted to their mum afterwards. They’re from East Timor and are in Perth on a temporary protection visa but she just found out this afternoon that the meager allowance the family is living on will cease to be paid to her from next week. Her husband is fighting in East Timor and she hasn’t heard from him in two months – he’s never seen their youngest child. She has four children under the age of 11 and basically no support.
While I’m worrying about having enough money to pay off my own house – as well as having enough to go to the movies and eat out when I feel like it – this family might not have a house to live in in a week’s time. The encounter didn’t just put my concerns into perspective but convicted me of my general self-centredness – I’ve found a cure (temporarily) for both my worry and my self-absorption.