My wife and I have recently moved back from a year of relief work in China, helping to implement psycho-social programs to help kids build resiliency and recovery from the trauma of having their school buildings crush them during last year's May 12th earthquake. Today, many of these children and their families are still living in temporary housing projects. Often, a family of 3-5 gets one room along a long row of rooms in a two or three square mile complex. It would appear, at first glance, that they are living a life of simplicity. Disasters can strip anyone down to their bare minimal quite suddenly.
Today, my wife and I are both students, studying for degrees we believe God has called us to in order to continue serving and empowering the "least of these" wherever they may be. Unfortunately, our dedication to studies means a lower income for the household, I currently working part time as an adjunct instructor at a community college. The reality that we will soon be expecting our first child in March is an extra weight and joy that promises to bring as much worry as blessing as we prepare our home.
Naturally, I battle bouts of anxiety and worry on an almost daily basis. There is the strong sense of calling, and with it, security. I trust that in seeking first God's Kingdom in our lives, He will fulfill His promise to provide all that we need. Yet in moments of weakness when reviewing bills or the costs of car maintenance here or travel arrangements to see family there, that sinking feeling can begin to pull me down. Questions of how to make it through the later months when savings is low ambush me in the midst of studies.
There is no question about it; God has provided exactly what He has promised up to this point. We ask for our daily bread and we get it. A surprise scholarship here, an early beginning to part my time work there. More and more possibilities abound as the days go by. I praise and glorify my Lord because He has given my family exactly what we have needed for this season. I believe that He will continue to provide as my family seeks God's will and kingdom. Lord, help me in my unbelief.
"The central point for the discipline of simplicity is to seek the kingdom of God and the righteousness of his kingdom first and then everything necessary will come in its proper place," says Richard Foster. If this is the discipline of simplicity, than the season of life I have walked into are the perfect grounds for practicing it. Not simply an outward simplicity built in cutting down on spending and such to ensure our economic livelihood, but the fostering of the great inner simplicity that builds confidence in our relationship with God as primary. It is the building of a divine center, the refining of a will for but one thing.
There is no question about it; my wife and I feel a call to serve the fatherless and the widow, and believe our lives ought to be prepared to the fullest for such a task. This entire season of life from studies to preparing for a family plus all the daily moments of simple acts of living from eating to walking can be placed in the perspective of Kingdom building. Jesus says that the Kingdom of God is within us. He also says that living streams should abound in us and flow out to others. The life of simplicity then is both the building of God's Kingdom within our souls and the preparation for that inner light to ignite our environments. It is the rejection of fear as well as of the desire for power or affluence. It is trusting with the simplicity of a child toward a loving father.
But what would I do if an earthquake shattered everything I had? What if something took away my family, my home, and my entire pattern of life? How than shall I live? Such possibilities produce a natural and proper concern. Such a question pushes the greatest challenge of inner simplicity right in our faces. Is my family but a gift from God that can be taken away? How will the Kingdom be incarnated in such a tragedy? How shall He speak into the broken world such as this? I have not had to face it, but so many have in so many parts of the world from the inner city ghettos a few blocks from my apartment to refuge camps the world over. Yes, simplicity is a discipline for those who have. I consider my self a "have" and not a "have not." I know my life today calls me to greater internal and external simplicity to reflect God's glory and providence. I believe He is transforming me in this process. But I end this reflection with a new question to pursue: how is the discipline of simplicity to be enacted in the midst of loss, suffering, and pain when what little you already had has been taken? After all, it could be any of us.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Worship with my Wife
Begin the day for the Lord. Begin with the reading of His Word, celebrating with a Psalm, meditating on the words of the Prophets, refined by the teachings of the Epistles. Begin with a song of praise, a joyful noise. Begin with prayer, speaking words of honesty and encouragement, seeking direction and clarity for the day ahead. Begin the day by fellowshipping together, breaking bread and gaining the sustenance needed for the day. Then go out and work well, praising through our actions, listening with our hearts, until the evening comes when we might return to rest.
What’s more, the daily ritual ought to be done together as a family, a community that seeks to live and reflect God in all of our work. Bonheoffer not only asks for the discipline of a morning routine, but of community. As if the discipline of arising an hour early each day to progress through a holy routine is nothing. Indeed, an hour of individual devotion each morning is easy compared to doing it as a community. When things get collective, they get messy.
I am a newly married man, learning to dance with my life through each days requirements. In the newness of this life, I am having a hard enough time disciplining myself to communicate clearly in fellowship with her, much less bring us together in unity before God. Our worship of our God is restrained to formal gatherings on Sundays, short prayers offered around meals, and occasional evenings before bed. Scripture is discussed on occasion as it applies to the circumstances before us, but rarely is it read together.
There is a dimension of spiritual life together that my wife and I have yet to learn. When it comes to traditional acts of spiritual devotion, we still hear different melodies and dance to our own rhythms. How do we take the busy lives before us and carve out the communal space necessary for family worship as Bonheoffer admonishes?
Since my college years, I’ve tried to foster the Presence of God amongst all the actions of my life: to be always worshipful. I’ve had good seasons when the Spirit’s guidance is steady and I am “in tune.” I’ve had bad seasons when fears and distractions crowd out any ability to perpetuate God’s peace. At this moment of re-settling into life in America and preparation for future ministry and work together, the battle between worship and worry rages. Worship calls me to surrender to God’s presence in trust and joy. Worry begs me to consider what is lacking and what can never be assured. Worship asks me to look ahead in anticipation of God’s glory and tutelage. Worry desires to cover my eyes with a lens of uncertainty that will lead me to further desires of personal control. I’ve felt the battle throughout moments of study, of writing, of driving, of class and work. As I am becoming more aware of them, I must choose to worship. Let His glory be evident in all.
Yet the greatest difference this season is that I am no longer alone. My battle for worship over worry and fear is connected to my wife. Her strength and weaknesses are, likewise, tied to me. As the year continues, my prayer is that our God given gifts continue to merge in such a way that worship becomes ever more present. I pray our individual melodies create harmony that glorifies God and reflects His favor, joy, and peace on us and our neighbors.
For that prayer to be fulfilled, we must learn to discipline ourselves. Mornings of intentionality in praise, Word, and prayer may seem far away, but small steps should be taken now before the waves of work and busyness wash in the months to come. Let us begin to pray through our morning routine. Let us remember some Scripture for our day. Let us try and make our new life together worshipful.
What’s more, the daily ritual ought to be done together as a family, a community that seeks to live and reflect God in all of our work. Bonheoffer not only asks for the discipline of a morning routine, but of community. As if the discipline of arising an hour early each day to progress through a holy routine is nothing. Indeed, an hour of individual devotion each morning is easy compared to doing it as a community. When things get collective, they get messy.
I am a newly married man, learning to dance with my life through each days requirements. In the newness of this life, I am having a hard enough time disciplining myself to communicate clearly in fellowship with her, much less bring us together in unity before God. Our worship of our God is restrained to formal gatherings on Sundays, short prayers offered around meals, and occasional evenings before bed. Scripture is discussed on occasion as it applies to the circumstances before us, but rarely is it read together.
There is a dimension of spiritual life together that my wife and I have yet to learn. When it comes to traditional acts of spiritual devotion, we still hear different melodies and dance to our own rhythms. How do we take the busy lives before us and carve out the communal space necessary for family worship as Bonheoffer admonishes?
Since my college years, I’ve tried to foster the Presence of God amongst all the actions of my life: to be always worshipful. I’ve had good seasons when the Spirit’s guidance is steady and I am “in tune.” I’ve had bad seasons when fears and distractions crowd out any ability to perpetuate God’s peace. At this moment of re-settling into life in America and preparation for future ministry and work together, the battle between worship and worry rages. Worship calls me to surrender to God’s presence in trust and joy. Worry begs me to consider what is lacking and what can never be assured. Worship asks me to look ahead in anticipation of God’s glory and tutelage. Worry desires to cover my eyes with a lens of uncertainty that will lead me to further desires of personal control. I’ve felt the battle throughout moments of study, of writing, of driving, of class and work. As I am becoming more aware of them, I must choose to worship. Let His glory be evident in all.
Yet the greatest difference this season is that I am no longer alone. My battle for worship over worry and fear is connected to my wife. Her strength and weaknesses are, likewise, tied to me. As the year continues, my prayer is that our God given gifts continue to merge in such a way that worship becomes ever more present. I pray our individual melodies create harmony that glorifies God and reflects His favor, joy, and peace on us and our neighbors.
For that prayer to be fulfilled, we must learn to discipline ourselves. Mornings of intentionality in praise, Word, and prayer may seem far away, but small steps should be taken now before the waves of work and busyness wash in the months to come. Let us begin to pray through our morning routine. Let us remember some Scripture for our day. Let us try and make our new life together worshipful.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Praying through the Nation's Capital
I commute back and forth between DC and Baltimore for classes. As I head into our nation’s capital, I typically veer off the BW Parkway onto New York Avenue. I watch the parkway’s forests merge into the National Arboretum. Trees then become run down buildings, fast food restaurants, and gas stations. As I approach NW, construction cranes and building frames fill the sky. Passing North Capitol, I always glance left at the grand dome of the Capital rising above the row homes. I continue from New York Ave to Massachusetts past torn down housing projects, storefront churches, a revitalized Gallery Place, downtown everything, always-trendy Dupont, rows upon rows of embassies from every other nation on the globe. The National Cathedral towers over the last stretch before I reach American University and Wesley Theological Seminary.
I make this trip two to three times a week. With each trip up and down this grand tour, there are prayers to be said and scripture to reflect upon. Through the noise of the traffic I try to not only commune with God, but with the city I grew up alongside and, one day, hope to serve. I desire to bring all the elements together, fully aware of God’s presence on my internal life and the city from poverty to riches, international spaces to academic campuses.
The city is filled with people, and yet, during this weekly ritual, I am always alone. During this moving tour, I am kept aware of my surroundings in flow with traffic while simultaneously seeking to focus my mind and heart.
Turn off the radio. Listen.
What do the buildings tell you? What do the crowds reflect? Who gathers in the storefronts and the cathedrals? See how the flags of the world blow in the breeze, what are the nations saying? Remember the ragged on the streets. Consider the suits in their meetings. What does God ask of them? What does He ask of you?
Scriptures begin to trickle in…
“And he drew near and saw the city, and wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!’”
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor…”
“Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God”
“Whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies-in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ.”
Look around you. Speak
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
Small, short prayers.
Lord, Have Mercy.
Lord, Grant Wisdom.
Lord, Bring Humility.
Lord, Teach Us.
These are moments along the way that are filled with intercession.
Father, bring peace and witness to the nations broken by war.
Father, empower the ministers and leadership of these churches.
Father, open the eyes of the rich and powerful to your will and agenda.
Father, fill the hungry and the poor with good things
Usually, I arrive at Wesley about an hour before class begins, near noon. It’s time for lunch. I usually sit at the picnic table behind the Wesley Bells towering above the trickling pool. As I eat slowly, The noise in my mind begins to fall away. I consider all I have seen, all I have heard, all I have asked and said. When all is said and done, this sojourn across DC is but a training ground for the heart. It is a space to enact simple disciplines to deepen my connection with the Jesus in such a way that I love and weep over the city as he did, to feel the call to service and witness. If the disciplines are a window to grace, then I must sit before them more often.
God is near, beyond me, around me, within me.
It’s not always easy, but above all that comes about in this city, I try and stop to seek the one thing that ought to matter most.
Communion with my Lord.. .
Enjoy the Lord.
I make this trip two to three times a week. With each trip up and down this grand tour, there are prayers to be said and scripture to reflect upon. Through the noise of the traffic I try to not only commune with God, but with the city I grew up alongside and, one day, hope to serve. I desire to bring all the elements together, fully aware of God’s presence on my internal life and the city from poverty to riches, international spaces to academic campuses.
The city is filled with people, and yet, during this weekly ritual, I am always alone. During this moving tour, I am kept aware of my surroundings in flow with traffic while simultaneously seeking to focus my mind and heart.
Turn off the radio. Listen.
What do the buildings tell you? What do the crowds reflect? Who gathers in the storefronts and the cathedrals? See how the flags of the world blow in the breeze, what are the nations saying? Remember the ragged on the streets. Consider the suits in their meetings. What does God ask of them? What does He ask of you?
Scriptures begin to trickle in…
“And he drew near and saw the city, and wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!’”
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor…”
“Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God”
“Whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies-in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ.”
Look around you. Speak
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
Small, short prayers.
Lord, Have Mercy.
Lord, Grant Wisdom.
Lord, Bring Humility.
Lord, Teach Us.
These are moments along the way that are filled with intercession.
Father, bring peace and witness to the nations broken by war.
Father, empower the ministers and leadership of these churches.
Father, open the eyes of the rich and powerful to your will and agenda.
Father, fill the hungry and the poor with good things
Usually, I arrive at Wesley about an hour before class begins, near noon. It’s time for lunch. I usually sit at the picnic table behind the Wesley Bells towering above the trickling pool. As I eat slowly, The noise in my mind begins to fall away. I consider all I have seen, all I have heard, all I have asked and said. When all is said and done, this sojourn across DC is but a training ground for the heart. It is a space to enact simple disciplines to deepen my connection with the Jesus in such a way that I love and weep over the city as he did, to feel the call to service and witness. If the disciplines are a window to grace, then I must sit before them more often.
God is near, beyond me, around me, within me.
It’s not always easy, but above all that comes about in this city, I try and stop to seek the one thing that ought to matter most.
Communion with my Lord.. .
Enjoy the Lord.
Friday, September 25, 2009
What would happen if...
“What would happen if everyone did followed the values of the Kingdom of God? Turn the other cheek. Love your enemies. Forgive always.”
Chaos. Disorder. Violence. Civilization would cave in on itself.
The way of Christ is not realistic.
I just moved to Baltimore a month ago. In this short time, I’ve been intentional about soaking up what this city is about.
Overall, it is not a pretty picture.
I live in a nicer, midtown neighborhood filled with parks and museums, but it is only a few blocks away from the notorious east side known for two very different things: The great medical institution of Johns Hopkins Hospital and the poverty and violence of the projects. The irony is thick. The large and mighty institutions here do not appear to give life. All is not right in the world.
“So what would happen if everyone did that?”
Chaos. Disorder. Violence. Civilization would cave in on itself.
On the contrary, it is all happening anyway. So what are we doing about it?
I’ve also been about churches, looking for signs of the Kingdom of God in a space thick with the darkness of principalities and powers corrupted and turned in on themselves. They are here. They are small. They are growing. Baltimore is a city of local flavor and concern. Those who live here are forced to make a decision on whether to serve the city or ignore it. This decision is set before every church here as well.
“What would happen if everyone did that?
Maybe the police wouldn’t be twittering 2-3 shootings every couple of days. Maybe the homeless congregating outside churches would have a home. Maybe the boarded up row homes would be refurbished for the people who need it, not the institutions who want them. Maybe the youth would be empowered to serve one another instead of rival on the streets. Maybe schools would be provided the resources they need to educate. Maybe our churches would be beacons of light and community instead of ominous steeples of judgment. Where is this Kingdom of God that supposedly transforms suffering into victory against the dominant culture of redemptive “means to an end” violence and control?
But that’s not the question I should be asking. The real question is:
“What would happen if I did that?”
This is a much scarier question.
“The Kingdom of God is within you”
How will I love my God and my neighbor this year?
This is Baltimore. For this season, it is the space I’m called to live out my radical discipleship. It is so much easier to hide away in my apartment with my books. How will I live out the values of the Kingdom? How will I carry my cross?
Lord, I pray for radical passion, vision, and opportunity to be a disciple of your cross and resurrection. I pray for the streets and the skyscrapers, the prisons and offices, the universities and the inner city high schools, the storefront churches and the cathedrals. Work within these institutions. Lord, connect me with the communities of faith that serve and empower their greater community with the values and message of the Gospel. Connect me with the powerful and the weak, the fatherless and the widow, the well resourced and the homeless, the youth and the elderly. Lord, teach me how to engage the world with the spirit of the coming age, not that of the former. Help me to conquer death so that I might live free. I was blind, but now I see. Use me to help others see you and the world as it ought to be. Give us courage to live as you’ve called: bearing crosses and setting captives free.
“What would happen if everyone did that?”
The Kingdom of God would happen.
Chaos. Disorder. Violence. Civilization would cave in on itself.
The way of Christ is not realistic.
I just moved to Baltimore a month ago. In this short time, I’ve been intentional about soaking up what this city is about.
Overall, it is not a pretty picture.
I live in a nicer, midtown neighborhood filled with parks and museums, but it is only a few blocks away from the notorious east side known for two very different things: The great medical institution of Johns Hopkins Hospital and the poverty and violence of the projects. The irony is thick. The large and mighty institutions here do not appear to give life. All is not right in the world.
“So what would happen if everyone did that?”
Chaos. Disorder. Violence. Civilization would cave in on itself.
On the contrary, it is all happening anyway. So what are we doing about it?
I’ve also been about churches, looking for signs of the Kingdom of God in a space thick with the darkness of principalities and powers corrupted and turned in on themselves. They are here. They are small. They are growing. Baltimore is a city of local flavor and concern. Those who live here are forced to make a decision on whether to serve the city or ignore it. This decision is set before every church here as well.
“What would happen if everyone did that?
Maybe the police wouldn’t be twittering 2-3 shootings every couple of days. Maybe the homeless congregating outside churches would have a home. Maybe the boarded up row homes would be refurbished for the people who need it, not the institutions who want them. Maybe the youth would be empowered to serve one another instead of rival on the streets. Maybe schools would be provided the resources they need to educate. Maybe our churches would be beacons of light and community instead of ominous steeples of judgment. Where is this Kingdom of God that supposedly transforms suffering into victory against the dominant culture of redemptive “means to an end” violence and control?
But that’s not the question I should be asking. The real question is:
“What would happen if I did that?”
This is a much scarier question.
“The Kingdom of God is within you”
How will I love my God and my neighbor this year?
This is Baltimore. For this season, it is the space I’m called to live out my radical discipleship. It is so much easier to hide away in my apartment with my books. How will I live out the values of the Kingdom? How will I carry my cross?
Lord, I pray for radical passion, vision, and opportunity to be a disciple of your cross and resurrection. I pray for the streets and the skyscrapers, the prisons and offices, the universities and the inner city high schools, the storefront churches and the cathedrals. Work within these institutions. Lord, connect me with the communities of faith that serve and empower their greater community with the values and message of the Gospel. Connect me with the powerful and the weak, the fatherless and the widow, the well resourced and the homeless, the youth and the elderly. Lord, teach me how to engage the world with the spirit of the coming age, not that of the former. Help me to conquer death so that I might live free. I was blind, but now I see. Use me to help others see you and the world as it ought to be. Give us courage to live as you’ve called: bearing crosses and setting captives free.
“What would happen if everyone did that?”
The Kingdom of God would happen.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
The Baltimore Experience
-Excerpt from a chapter written by Stephen T Baron, Deborah Agus, Fred Osher, and David Brown. Scholars from Baltimore's many academic institutions.
"Baltimore city is the 13th largest city in the US. It is located on the eastern seaboard of the US in the state of Maryland 37 miles from Washington DC and 196 miles from New York City. Baltimore is one of the oldest cities in the USA and in 1997 celebrated the bicentennial of its incorporation. The city is governed by a Mayor and 19 member City Council which is elected every 4 years.
Over the past 40 years, similar to other urban areas in the USA, Baltimore has experienced a decline in population. Once the largest political jurisdiction in the state of Maryland with 939,024 or 25% of the state's population, Baltimore is currently the fourth largest subdivision in the state with a population of 692,800 or 4% of the state's population. The majority of the individuals residing in Baltimore City are African American (about 60%) with Caucasians making up 38% and other races the additional 2%. Baltimore's 14,652 businesses employ 311,161 workers. Manufacturing accounts for 10% of the city's workforce and the largest employed is the Johns Hopkins University and Hospital System.
Baltimore is home to the largest concentration of poor people in Maryland. About one half of the state's poor people reside in the city of Baltimore. The population of Baltimore City is about 30% of the metropolitan area (the city and the five surrounding counties) but the city is home to almost 68% of the region's poor.
In 1960, the median family income of city families was 91.2% of the metropolitan area median family income while in 1990 the income of city families was 66.9% in proportion. The poor are overwhelmingly children from single parent homes,, African American female single parents, and the elderly and disabled. In 1992, 21.5% of the households in the city hand incomes below $10,000 compared to only 9% of households in the state of Maryland. The elderly (over 65 years old) make up 13.7% of the city's population. Over 40% of the elderly population living in the city are disabled, while 32.5% of the elderly state-wide are disabled.
In 1991, the city's unemployment rate of 9.4% was the highest in the state. Baltimore is also home to the greatest concentration of homeless persons and individuals in need of substance abuse treatment in the state."
Maybe... God put me here for a very intentional reason.
"Baltimore city is the 13th largest city in the US. It is located on the eastern seaboard of the US in the state of Maryland 37 miles from Washington DC and 196 miles from New York City. Baltimore is one of the oldest cities in the USA and in 1997 celebrated the bicentennial of its incorporation. The city is governed by a Mayor and 19 member City Council which is elected every 4 years.
Over the past 40 years, similar to other urban areas in the USA, Baltimore has experienced a decline in population. Once the largest political jurisdiction in the state of Maryland with 939,024 or 25% of the state's population, Baltimore is currently the fourth largest subdivision in the state with a population of 692,800 or 4% of the state's population. The majority of the individuals residing in Baltimore City are African American (about 60%) with Caucasians making up 38% and other races the additional 2%. Baltimore's 14,652 businesses employ 311,161 workers. Manufacturing accounts for 10% of the city's workforce and the largest employed is the Johns Hopkins University and Hospital System.
Baltimore is home to the largest concentration of poor people in Maryland. About one half of the state's poor people reside in the city of Baltimore. The population of Baltimore City is about 30% of the metropolitan area (the city and the five surrounding counties) but the city is home to almost 68% of the region's poor.
In 1960, the median family income of city families was 91.2% of the metropolitan area median family income while in 1990 the income of city families was 66.9% in proportion. The poor are overwhelmingly children from single parent homes,, African American female single parents, and the elderly and disabled. In 1992, 21.5% of the households in the city hand incomes below $10,000 compared to only 9% of households in the state of Maryland. The elderly (over 65 years old) make up 13.7% of the city's population. Over 40% of the elderly population living in the city are disabled, while 32.5% of the elderly state-wide are disabled.
In 1991, the city's unemployment rate of 9.4% was the highest in the state. Baltimore is also home to the greatest concentration of homeless persons and individuals in need of substance abuse treatment in the state."
Maybe... God put me here for a very intentional reason.
Acts of Devotion
Acts of Devotion are.. .
water poured out over sacred alters
oil dripping off the foreheads of the anointed
flickering of the candles by icons
swirls of the smoke from incense
blood trickling off the hands of the cursed
darkness in the hearts of the cursing
calloused hands folded in prayer, meditation, and daily work
fingers on triggers with eyes focused on moving targets
slaves wading through the rivers, to reach the other side
expectant, fearful couples preparing their homes for the blessings of new life
children at the bedsides of their ailing parents faithfully awaiting a life beyond
students in the classroom, pens tapping, brains turning over and over
students on the streets, fists pumping, hearts blazing, higher and higher
flags at half mast
bells are ringing
bombs are falling
marching hand in hand
we shall overcome
the bottom of bottles
the street corners
the tops of towers
the dollar
the cross
the sword
the heavens
the earth
water poured out over sacred alters
oil dripping off the foreheads of the anointed
flickering of the candles by icons
swirls of the smoke from incense
blood trickling off the hands of the cursed
darkness in the hearts of the cursing
calloused hands folded in prayer, meditation, and daily work
fingers on triggers with eyes focused on moving targets
slaves wading through the rivers, to reach the other side
expectant, fearful couples preparing their homes for the blessings of new life
children at the bedsides of their ailing parents faithfully awaiting a life beyond
students in the classroom, pens tapping, brains turning over and over
students on the streets, fists pumping, hearts blazing, higher and higher
flags at half mast
bells are ringing
bombs are falling
marching hand in hand
we shall overcome
the bottom of bottles
the street corners
the tops of towers
the dollar
the cross
the sword
the heavens
the earth
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Imitation of Christ, Books I & II, A reflection
Is what you have to say still relevant to me today? You, a monk secluded in the comforts of a monastery during a time of chaos and crumbling empire. As I read your words of centuries past, I am disturbed at the level of intensity by which you encourage me to disregard and retreat from the world around me. Has not Christ called me to engage the world? Had Jesus not incarnated himself amongst us to serve, connect, heal, and empower? Can such things be done within the walls of spiritual retreat?
I have long thought of myself as a person of compassion, a servant seeking to love all in the same spirit of Christ. I imagined myself compassionate, considerate, and humble to the needs of friends, family, and broken.
But in recent days, I have been challenged.
Those closest to me have proposed that my desires to serve all around me are but expressions of codependent brokenness. From my perception, they were good deeds done to express love and joy. To my loved ones, they were acts done to seek the approval of others, to meet the demands of a shamed and insecure soul. I cannot manage to speak what I feel, only what I see desired to be heard. Speaking for my loved ones so that they will continue to love me. Had I made my relationships an idol? Truly I ask, where are my efforts directed? And for what cause are they acted upon?
Suddenly, the ancient monk's words begin to echo in my heart. "Do not open your heart to every person, but discuss your affairs with one who is wise and who fears God... We ought to have charity for all people, but familiarity with all is not expedient," you say in your first book, the eighth chapter. Indeed, I have reached out to more people than I ought. I've extended myself in a web of friendships and relationships I but claim as friendships, even if they are but connected by thin threads of shared memories and ideals.
Why? Why am I so dependent on the company I keep to maintain an image of self as credible, loved, and valuable? Mother must commend me. Brothers must approve of me. Old lovers and childhood friends must always remember me.
"We should enjoy much peace if we did not concern ourselves with what others say and do, for these are no concern of ours. How can a man who meddles in affairs not his own, who seek strange distractions, and who is little or seldom inwardly recollected, live long in peace?" you ask in the 11th chapter of your first book.
I confess, I have meddled, and am often tempted to continue meddling in the relationships of my life as a means of securing an allusive grace. I am seeking the wrong sources. "If we let our progress in religious life depend on the observances of its externals alone, our devotion will quickly come to an end." (Book I, Ch 11) Then let me stop seeking the externals, the praise and grace of my audience of a hundred loved ones. It is not real love without Christ. Let me
Perhaps there is a time for monastic work to be done after all. Especially in this age of modernity that attacks the senses ceaselessly. Is there a quiet space to be found anywhere? Can you not make one for yourself, through the discipline so often spoken of in the text, in the chamber of the heart? Quiet your life and let peace flow in you from a pouring of the Spirit instead of seeking it in the externals of your life. Take time for yourself, and spend it well with the one who has called you
"Beloved."
Christ calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves.
.. . as ourselves.
Do I love myself as Christ loves me?
Or do I refuse it, seeking validation beyond the one who has eternally embraced me already?
Where is the care for my own soul?
"Where are your thoughts when they are not upon yourself? And after attending to various things, what have you gained if you have neglected self? If you wish to have true peace of mind and unity of purpose, you must cast all else aside and keep only yourself before your eyes." (Book II, Ch 5)
After all, Christ has died for me, and redeemed me. I am beloved in His sight. What else do I need?
Indeed, there is a time for retreat and the renewing of self.
Words of saints, centuries old, written in lonely cells of distant monasteries, still speak today.
I have long thought of myself as a person of compassion, a servant seeking to love all in the same spirit of Christ. I imagined myself compassionate, considerate, and humble to the needs of friends, family, and broken.
But in recent days, I have been challenged.
Those closest to me have proposed that my desires to serve all around me are but expressions of codependent brokenness. From my perception, they were good deeds done to express love and joy. To my loved ones, they were acts done to seek the approval of others, to meet the demands of a shamed and insecure soul. I cannot manage to speak what I feel, only what I see desired to be heard. Speaking for my loved ones so that they will continue to love me. Had I made my relationships an idol? Truly I ask, where are my efforts directed? And for what cause are they acted upon?
Suddenly, the ancient monk's words begin to echo in my heart. "Do not open your heart to every person, but discuss your affairs with one who is wise and who fears God... We ought to have charity for all people, but familiarity with all is not expedient," you say in your first book, the eighth chapter. Indeed, I have reached out to more people than I ought. I've extended myself in a web of friendships and relationships I but claim as friendships, even if they are but connected by thin threads of shared memories and ideals.
Why? Why am I so dependent on the company I keep to maintain an image of self as credible, loved, and valuable? Mother must commend me. Brothers must approve of me. Old lovers and childhood friends must always remember me.
"We should enjoy much peace if we did not concern ourselves with what others say and do, for these are no concern of ours. How can a man who meddles in affairs not his own, who seek strange distractions, and who is little or seldom inwardly recollected, live long in peace?" you ask in the 11th chapter of your first book.
I confess, I have meddled, and am often tempted to continue meddling in the relationships of my life as a means of securing an allusive grace. I am seeking the wrong sources. "If we let our progress in religious life depend on the observances of its externals alone, our devotion will quickly come to an end." (Book I, Ch 11) Then let me stop seeking the externals, the praise and grace of my audience of a hundred loved ones. It is not real love without Christ. Let me
Perhaps there is a time for monastic work to be done after all. Especially in this age of modernity that attacks the senses ceaselessly. Is there a quiet space to be found anywhere? Can you not make one for yourself, through the discipline so often spoken of in the text, in the chamber of the heart? Quiet your life and let peace flow in you from a pouring of the Spirit instead of seeking it in the externals of your life. Take time for yourself, and spend it well with the one who has called you
"Beloved."
Christ calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves.
.. . as ourselves.
Do I love myself as Christ loves me?
Or do I refuse it, seeking validation beyond the one who has eternally embraced me already?
Where is the care for my own soul?
"Where are your thoughts when they are not upon yourself? And after attending to various things, what have you gained if you have neglected self? If you wish to have true peace of mind and unity of purpose, you must cast all else aside and keep only yourself before your eyes." (Book II, Ch 5)
After all, Christ has died for me, and redeemed me. I am beloved in His sight. What else do I need?
Indeed, there is a time for retreat and the renewing of self.
Words of saints, centuries old, written in lonely cells of distant monasteries, still speak today.
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