Obviously, it has been awhile since I have written on my blog. The reason is partly circumstantial and partly motivational. To break this period of silence I thought I would share what seems to me a personal paradox. I have been obsessed with my heart for the past twenty odd years of my life, and for the past twenty odd years I have been avoiding my heart. I realize that saying this is somewhat provocative, but I ask for the pardon and prayers of those who read my blog. I need to time to process, and I need to discern what is appropriate to share in this context.
In lieu of a profound and insightful reflection on Easter I offer the following bit of “Anguished English”:
The associate minister unveiled the church’s new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday: “I Upped my Pledge-Now Up Yours!”
What I imagine is a bunch of postcards, or the cover of a newsletter, being sent out to parishioners as a part of this church’s stewardship campaign with “Up Yours!” printed in a big and bold font on the front.
In an alternate universe Glenn Beck (who looks a lot like Han Solo) and Jim Wallis (who looks a lot like Obi Wan Kenobi) sit down to have a civil discussion about social justice. The video below gives us the opportunity to listen in.
It struck me recently that being a steward, far from being a demeaning title that serves to remind us that we are living on someone else’s property, is actually a reminder of the exalted state for which we were made. God designed us to have our habitation in Him, and so, the only path toward human flourishing is to intimately find our all in His fullness. When the reality that we were made to be partakers of the divine nature, that through Christ we are full sons of God, when this reality gets a hold of our hearts and imaginations, then we are free to enjoy all things. We will be free to enjoy all things because we will be relating to them from a position of fullness, and thus we will not look to things to provide satisfaction or security. This is what it means to be a steward.
Jesus came to freely share his sonship with us. He came to give us the same confidence he had as the eternally begotten and faithful Son of the Father. This is perhaps obvious regarding the testimony of Scriptures, but recently this reality has been striking more deeply into my heart, and what I see is a freedom and power to live well beyond the ordinary. At times, it is as if I am able to sense from the inside what it would be like to enjoy all things while possessing nothing, to not look to anything in the world to tell me who I am or what I am worth, and to love all people with a heart that is secure in the knowledge of God’s love.
The two battlefields that I will address this Lenten season are Fear and Restlessness. Both of these realities are pervasive in my soul, and as I look back on the whole of my adult life, I cannot think of a time when both of these enemies, in various forms, were not pulsing.
God structured us to function upon the presence and operations of His Spirit, such that we cannot be fully human apart from the Spirit. In the Fall we were closed off from the Spirit, we barred the Spirit from abiding and operating in the intimate recesses of our being. Through the Cross, the Son of God offered his Spirit formed humanity, a humanity embryonically drawn from the womb of Mary, a humanity upon which the Spirit tabernacled without limit. Through the Cross his humanity was offered on behalf of our incomplete, broken, and Spirit denying humanity. By assuming our human nature and bearing our sin, Jesus opened the depths of our humanity once again to the Spirit. Through the Cross we are enabled to die to the Spirit denying humanity of Adam, and we are made partakers of the Spirit soaked humanity of Jesus. Through the Cross our human depths are claimed for God.
So, the father of my nephew sent an email, with a bunch of humorous content, to my wife for my mom, which my wife then forwarded to me. I read it, and laughed, and decided that given the theological bent of my blog I would share one of the items in the email about heaven and hell.
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Heaven is Where:
The Police are British,
The Chefs are Italian,
The Mechanics are German,
The Lovers are French and
It’s all organized by the Swiss.
Hell is Where:
The Police are German,
The Chefs are British,
The Mechanics are French,
The Lovers are Swiss and
It’s all organized by the Italians.
*******
It’s funny how merely switching a few ethnic variables can make such a radical difference.
So, in cleaning up and organizing I discovered a forgotten file folder with some essays that I wrote for various theology courses, some photos and postcards that used to decorate a wall at a former office of mine, and a few old poems I wrote. In looking through it all, I thought, “what the heck, post a poem.” And so I give you the following…
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I saw
a white bag
billowy in the wind,
like a jelly fish on
fresh lawn tumbling.
A white bag
for groceries,
discarded,
now dancing
across my lawn
alive.
