God and the Asking

In Genesis, with the Garden’s memory fading, attention turns to the first brothers. The eldest, Cain, is a man of the soil. He knows the thorny work flowing from the Fall. He toils with success, producing fruit. Abel, the younger, tends the flocks. He knows the work of a roaming shepherd. His efforts, too, produce life from life. Both sons approach the altar, but only one offering is favored. Cain becomes angry.

There is a pause here, a moment when I can see the conflict and wonder what will come. It’s a prolonged breath before the next divine question, a big one at that.

Why are you angry?

Many things in life can make me angry. Some feel justified, others not so much. A few reactions stem from pettiness and even worse things. To feel anger is part of the human journey. Cain didn’t invent anger, he experienced it. But the choice afterward, this is a true sacred place. The LORD speaks with poignancy … why?

I have always liked this definition for anger – it’s the result of some unmet expectation. I will surely meet a few Abels in my life, people who seem to get it right when I cannot. I will feel some jealousy perhaps, maybe even foster some ill will. And it is then I am challenged to take that contemplative pause, to breath in the midst of emotion and reaction, and to listen for the deeper questions. The answers, should I pause long enough, as often found.

The LORD was present with Cain, before and after the first murder. It’s a dark narrative mixed with Light. The story has a rapid pace, capturing the impulsiveness of feeling so well. To bind my feelings to contemplation, to consider the why in the midst of the what, this is a continual calling by God towards discernment. I can remember too many times when I failed to take that breath and suffered. I can also feel the hope in knowing that today offers a newness in choice, a liberty to name what crouches at the door, and to master it.

Contemplative musings–Unhurried peace and power

Life feels frantic right now. There are so many good areas of ministry. I’ve learned to say “no” to others, but my difficulty lies in saying “no” to me. I don’t want to miss out on anything!

I love Thomas Kelly’s perspective on this. He wrote a little book entitled Testament of Devotion that is one of my favorite books. I have read it repeatedly and am newly convicted each time I revisit it. He ends the book with thoughts on living with unhurried peace.

But the decision (saying yes to something) was a heady decision, not made within the sanctuary of the soul. When we say Yes or No to calls for service on the basis of heady decisions, we have to give reasons, to ourselves and to others. But when we say Yes or No on the basis of inner guidance and whispered promptings of encouragement from the center of our life, or on the basis of a lack of any inward “rising” of that Life to encourage us in the call, we have no reason to give, except one—the will of God as we discern it. Then we have begun to live in guidance. And I find He never guides us into an intolerable scramble of panting feverishness. The Cosmic Patience becomes, in part, our patience, for after all God is as work in the world. It is not we alone who are at work in the world, frantically finishing a work to be offered to God.

Life from the Center is a life of unhurried peace and power. It is simple. It is serene. It is amazing. It is triumphant. It is radiant. It takes no time, but it occupies all our time. And it makes our life programs new and overcoming. We need not get frantic. He is at the helm. And when our little day is done we lie down quietly in peace, for all is well. (Kelly, Testament of Devotion, p. 100).

Seeing Past The Trees

In Eden things are not what they first seem. There is a sense of more to the Garden, an expansive complexity to the arrangement of man and woman and God. It is epitomized by the trees, one giving life and the other giving knowledge. On the one hand, life is free for the taking. The eternal Father opens up timelessness to His image bearers. One the other hand, knowledge is forbidden. Eating from this tree is commanded against.

While the serpent certainly plays his seductive part, I notice something about Eve. Eve contemplates. She sees past the immediate perception of her senses and considers the realm of something else, the boundary of her existence in the Garden. She ponders big things like death, truth, reality, and freedom. She decides to eat, with Adam in tow, and the world changes. She reaches for the fruit and experiences an opening of the eyes. Eve acts on her veiled desire and all creation shifts.

To contemplate is to look through my immediate senses and to search for meaning. It is a seeking of coherence from all of the stimuli life brings through sight, smell, taste, touch, feel, and intuition. It is the mind’s attempt to make sense of the information it receives, to look for more in the midst of the mundane. It is amazing to see Eve seeing before her eyes are opened. It reveals an elusive beauty woven into the first flesh of man, one that binds the desires of God’s image to God Himself in a journey of never ending discovery.

A God On Both Sides

When I was a child, I remember a year when we papered the walls of a classroom at church to make room for the garden of Eden. The space came alive with images of animals, plants, trees, and two scantily clad adults. The snake was in there somewhere too, but I can’t recall where. It was grand to take in the transformation, the smell of tempura paints and the sights of a surreal story coming alive after hours of artistry from children and teachers alike.

Decades later, Eden matters still. It’s a story to revisit, to consider, and to incorporate. It frames my understanding of self and place. What does it mean to be made in the image of God? Why is the world the way it is? Where am I and where will I go? The Garden offers something to questions like this. It’s a fabulous tale of consciousness, consequence, and continuation.

Some read and find total depravity. Others read and find clouded treasure. Still others hear an uncomfortable mix. What am I involved in exactly … a world destined for failure or one just beginning to grow? The story gives and takes, feeling more like invitation than explanation.

One thing I notice now is God. He is there in this beginning, in remarkable places. After the curses and the cosmic failure of the two, he prepares the garments of skin before the banishment and inevitable death. And to my surprise, He doesn’t rest in the garden, tucked behind the flashing swords, after things get cleaned up. He is with Cain and Abel … speaking, listening, journeying even. He shows up on both sides of the Fall. He seems engaged in the good and the bad. He’s pervasive.

I like Eden because it’s a beautiful poem of unexpected Presence. As I wander in this world of sweat and blood, the Presence continues. I paint my pictures still and take in the wonder of place and time in this surprising arrangement of relationship.

The Soil of Origin

Every good story has elements of origin. Answering where things come from stirs the imagination, helping to turn curiousity towards the unfolding tale. A healthy spirituality attends to origins as well. Asking where I came from, where my faith community comes from, and (especially) where all things come from situates my theology.

Scripture offers wonderful origin moments: the genesis of creation, the patriarchal speakings, the emancipation of the Hebrews, the Davidic kingdom, the prophetic visions, the advent of Christ, the birthing of the church. With each turn I am exposed to the memory of the divine held by the people of God. It is an invitation to consider what has been in order to reach what can be. The spiritual journey starts in the real world, immanent with the Spirit’s breath and immediate in the Father’s communication. The people I have known play an important role as well.

To consider origins is not an easy thing. It can dislodge my sense of person, place, and purpose. But if Scripture carries this element in ever expansive ways, it seems my faith development will ask me to look at beginnings … personal, communal, global. Embracing this task is enlivening and emotional. I will anticipate the new when I look at the old.

Spiritual Theology

I don’t remember how long ago it was, but the term ‘spiritual theology’ jumped off the page when I was reading this book. Eugene Peterson wanted to connect what is lived with what someone thinks about living. It went beyond some sort of moral code or religious behavior. It was more like an authentic experience of God rooted in disciplined theological reflection.

Here’s a quote from the introduction:

“The two terms, ‘spiritual’ and ‘theology’, keep good company with one another. ‘Theology’ is the attention that we give to God, the effort we give to knowing God as revealed in the Holy Scriptures and in Jesus Christ. ‘Spiritual’ is the insistence that everything that God reveals of himself and his works is capable of being lived in ordinary men and women in their homes and workplaces. ‘Spiritual’ keeps ‘theology’ from degenerating into merely thinking and talking and writing about the feelings and thoughts one has about God. ‘Theology’ keeps ‘spiritual’ from becoming merely thinking and talking and writing about God at a distance. The two words need each other, for we know how easy it is for us to let our study of God (theology) get separated from the way we live; we also know how easy it is to let our desires to live whole and satisfying lives (spiritual lives) get disconnected from who God actually is and the ways he works among us.”

Pursuing this is the real trick, or course. I do not think the mixing of the two is easy or predictable. But with practice and discernment, one can gain a greater sense of the desired end which resonates with the Kingdom.

Welcome to the ICS blog!

Hello friends of ICS!

We’ve created a new blog to continue the conversation on spiritual and missional formation. The initial contributors are Earl Lavender, Jackie L. Halstead, and myself. We will post material related to the work of the institute and welcome your comments.  We hope this becomes a good resource for you.