Pete Atkins is the reason we have developed a personal relationship with the customs agents at Dallas/Ft. Worth International airport. Rare combination of church leader, historian, thinker and physician, Pete welcomes us into his Lincolnshire world by including us on his rural prayer walks (hence necessitating the admission upon returning to the U.S. that, yes, we have indeed "walked in a pasture"--leading to the treatment of our guilty shoes with an obnoxious antimicrobial agent guarenteed to keep the U.K. bugs separate from the U.S. ones!) But, Pete's walks are worth it, and many times, Pete and Kath and Paul and I have had some real God-moments while side stepping the sheep "presence" in the fields.
On our last visit, Pete took us to a field in which he had newly discovered a narrow path that had not been there in his previous visits. The "path" was little more than a wide line drawn in the dirt that terminated at the ruins of an old abbey. It would only allow single file passage and, as the four of us began walking it, I noticed how utterly dependent we were on Pete as the leader since anyone behind him could see nothing ahead but the next person! Afterwards, back in the car, the four of us discussed how following that path felt like the search for how to better express the values of the local church in the mind-bending world that is postmodernity. Leaders who are honestly seeking a church that connects with culture seem to be walking toward something one person at a time, trusting that there is indeed, as Pete says, "an unexpected path" to follow. It would be easier if God paved the way to reformation and posted yellow signs along it. "Postmodern Christianity without Complete Deconstruction: 5 miles ahead" would be a nice one. Or how about, "Creativity in Church that Actually Has Some Power: just around the curve"? Yeah, a few reassurances would feel better than just following by trusting the leader!
Later, back home in Texas and walking in my local park alone, I decided to take an unexpected path in honor of Pete! In true Texan form, I thought, "If Pete can have mighty prayer walks, so can I!" Off I veered from the safe, paved walking trails into a dirt clearing into the woods, not sure exactly where it would come out. My prayer walk turned out completely different than Pete's meditative strolls through the English countryside, however. The dirt was rocky and the ground was jagged and half-way through, I began to wonder what Texas creatures might be lurking in the rarely disturbed underbrush nearby. Visions of snakes came to mind and I quickened my step, now tripping over rocks and pushed aside the vines, hoping none of them were poison oak or poison ivy. Finally, I burst out of the woods (back onto pavement) unharmed, but the unexpected path analogy had expanded in my mind. When you take a new trail alone (and in Texas?), danger does seem to lurk. It was much better walking the unknown with friends than striking out as a cowboy(girl) on my own. There is safety and peace in numbers.
A week ago, a man who had visited our church a few times told us that he would not be back because, "the music is worldly and the art is in the flesh." In my early years as a Christian "reformer", I would have seized upon this poor man with passionate and voluminous verbiage about how the "old" music was worldly in its earlier days and there is no one style of music more holy than another--don't you know God plans for every tribe, tongue, sound and style to fill heaven with praise??? I would have landed upon him like Boadicea resisting the Romans, asking him to compare the painting being done during our services "in the flesh" to his favorite preacher preparing for a sermon? Wouldn't he expect that preacher to study, research and prepare using the instruments of his flesh, hoping and praying for the Spirit of God to--as he so graciously does--come and interact with the earthen efforts infusing them with spiritual life? How was the painting of a Christian artist during a service any different? Ah, yes, quite powerful I would have been in my argument--I can see it now--I would have weilded the sword mightily (God, help us). But, instead (have the years actually matured me?? I pause to hope...) I just sighed and thought, "Bless him: he couldn't see the path!" He had accidentally joined a Pete Atkins walk for which he was not ready, and he did not have enough history with us to trust that we were actually going somewhere! He thought we were just wandering in a field and he grew afraid (slang: "freaked"). He had heard stories about snakes and calamities that occur off the paved road of safe church territory and did not want to become a statistic." I said nothing, felt compassion for the man, and sincerely hoped he would find the safety he needed. Nobody deserves to have their comfort zone BOMBED--only shaken! And I continue my walk, still thinking a sign now and then would be nice, but trusting the leaders in front of me and happy to be in motion!
Read Isaiah 42:16
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
Lost in the shadow of the cathedral...
I am a huge fan of the Lincoln Cathedral. If you drive from any direction into the Lincoln, England area, you will be greeted by the sight of the massive building as it presides over the Lincolnshire countryside. It is clearly visible for miles around and I have often thought that if I lived there, I would never tire of the view. The cathedral seems to speak in its silence: It just keeps on standing there in all its beauty, as the centuries--yes, centuries--come and go, as if to declare the age-abiding nature of the God's love. The sun strikes it by day, the clouds shadow it, man-made lights illumine it at night, the elements beat at it...and still it reigns, reminds and renews vision of heaven-to-earth contact potential.
On our first trip to Lincoln, however, my husband and I, having been properly awed by the sight as we drove into town, became a bit tortured by it as time went on. It seems we were staying at a hotel just a block or so away from the Cathedral and that knowledge plus the name of the hotel were all the direction we had. "Easy," we thought like Americans, "just head toward the cathedral and we'll find the hotel." What followed were, as I remember it, several loops around the cathedral, taking different turns when we could, the same turns when we were forced to, never seeing the hotel to which we were headed. (I don't mean "loops" like highway loops--these were like fractals, like wound threads, like the English coastline.) We passed amazing Roman wall ruins and quaint old shoppes but still were only circling the cathedral (now in evening traffic) and never being able to come in for a landing. Finally, we dug out our antiquated U.K. mobile (which only worked sometimes) and were able to phone a Lincoln friend and say, "Help...we're circling the cathedral." He "talked us in" to the back entrance of what turned out to be a lovely hotel, just in the shadow of the cathedral. And we were quite glad to WALK to the cathedral to view it up close!
Only later did the parable strike me. Western culture is wandering in the shadow of the cathedral! They can see the idea of church rising over the landscape, casting historical spiritual images across the countryside, but they so often can't find their way in. The church might even be beckoning to them, but the roads they are travelling just don't seem to provide an entrance! How many people may be circling in the shadows, sampling spirituality now and then, perhaps even wishing to understand our gospel, but prevented by the traffic and one-way signs (there were some of those, too.) Our grand history and amazing beauty is not enough! We must help people GET THERE!
As I thought more about the metaphor, I seized upon the reason for the difficulty. The cathedral was built to be visited by people, but at a time when the people travelled on foot! The roads were established to accommadate pilgrims walking, not driving gasoline-powered vehicles! As in so many English cities with rich history, the curious mix of old and new was in play. For the ancient cathedral to be visited by a non-pedestrian culture, extra pavement needed to be added!
So it is with church! The church--when it is really being the church (and that is a big subject)--IS desirable, grand and inspiring. No one needs to dress it up with modern trappings or trendy additions. (How silly the Lincoln Cathedral would look with a Frank Lloyd Wright wing...or a Millineum Dome on the lawn.) No, what the church needs to revamp is simply its road system--the approaches and entrances! What we have is highly relevant--how people access it is our challenge! The culture has changed and we must realized they are not winding their way in on foot: they have more to navigate and they are moving faster, and they are circling in shadows of spirituality cast by our history without ever finding parking nearby to check us out today!
When we were lost in Lincoln, in the shadow of the cathedral, I am glad that our friend answered his phone. I believe postmodern seekers are calling. Like Americans with an old half-working U.K. mobile, they may be a bit rusty on the procedure, but they are asking for direction! "Talk me into that safe place near the door," they are saying. They may say it in song or film or in "spiritual" conversation, but they are saying it. In Britain, where old church buildings tower like rulers across the countryside, or in the Bible belt of America where steel and chrome megachurches seem to leap out of the ground, there are many circling in the shadows, waiting for us to pick up the phone.
For more food for thought, see: Matthew 13:52
On our first trip to Lincoln, however, my husband and I, having been properly awed by the sight as we drove into town, became a bit tortured by it as time went on. It seems we were staying at a hotel just a block or so away from the Cathedral and that knowledge plus the name of the hotel were all the direction we had. "Easy," we thought like Americans, "just head toward the cathedral and we'll find the hotel." What followed were, as I remember it, several loops around the cathedral, taking different turns when we could, the same turns when we were forced to, never seeing the hotel to which we were headed. (I don't mean "loops" like highway loops--these were like fractals, like wound threads, like the English coastline.) We passed amazing Roman wall ruins and quaint old shoppes but still were only circling the cathedral (now in evening traffic) and never being able to come in for a landing. Finally, we dug out our antiquated U.K. mobile (which only worked sometimes) and were able to phone a Lincoln friend and say, "Help...we're circling the cathedral." He "talked us in" to the back entrance of what turned out to be a lovely hotel, just in the shadow of the cathedral. And we were quite glad to WALK to the cathedral to view it up close!
Only later did the parable strike me. Western culture is wandering in the shadow of the cathedral! They can see the idea of church rising over the landscape, casting historical spiritual images across the countryside, but they so often can't find their way in. The church might even be beckoning to them, but the roads they are travelling just don't seem to provide an entrance! How many people may be circling in the shadows, sampling spirituality now and then, perhaps even wishing to understand our gospel, but prevented by the traffic and one-way signs (there were some of those, too.) Our grand history and amazing beauty is not enough! We must help people GET THERE!
As I thought more about the metaphor, I seized upon the reason for the difficulty. The cathedral was built to be visited by people, but at a time when the people travelled on foot! The roads were established to accommadate pilgrims walking, not driving gasoline-powered vehicles! As in so many English cities with rich history, the curious mix of old and new was in play. For the ancient cathedral to be visited by a non-pedestrian culture, extra pavement needed to be added!
So it is with church! The church--when it is really being the church (and that is a big subject)--IS desirable, grand and inspiring. No one needs to dress it up with modern trappings or trendy additions. (How silly the Lincoln Cathedral would look with a Frank Lloyd Wright wing...or a Millineum Dome on the lawn.) No, what the church needs to revamp is simply its road system--the approaches and entrances! What we have is highly relevant--how people access it is our challenge! The culture has changed and we must realized they are not winding their way in on foot: they have more to navigate and they are moving faster, and they are circling in shadows of spirituality cast by our history without ever finding parking nearby to check us out today!
When we were lost in Lincoln, in the shadow of the cathedral, I am glad that our friend answered his phone. I believe postmodern seekers are calling. Like Americans with an old half-working U.K. mobile, they may be a bit rusty on the procedure, but they are asking for direction! "Talk me into that safe place near the door," they are saying. They may say it in song or film or in "spiritual" conversation, but they are saying it. In Britain, where old church buildings tower like rulers across the countryside, or in the Bible belt of America where steel and chrome megachurches seem to leap out of the ground, there are many circling in the shadows, waiting for us to pick up the phone.
For more food for thought, see: Matthew 13:52
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Hit the ball with what's left...
I don't love the "doing" of golf, but I do love the idea of golf. I love the fact that no matter how much a player works on his physical game, it is his inner game that ultimately determines his destiny on the links. Golf--combination of finesse and focus as well as strength and power--provides a metaphor for life's journey that is too great to be ignored. In the book, The Legend of Bagger Vance (known to many only in motion picture form), Steven Pressfield presses the metaphor into full service. Like so many spiritual ideas coursing through society, the eastern thought expressed in the book bears no specific religious label, leading most Christians to suspicion and distrust. But, I have never seen honest eastern thought as a threat to a way of life founded by an eastern Savior and conceived by the God of the univserse in whom both east and west find their origin. The book inspired me, and I am a Bible-type Christian!
I especially like the part where Bagger, caddying for the shattered war veteran, Rannulph Junah in the most stressful match of his life, is hammering him with the question, "Who are you?" Bagger, ignoring the mounting score due to Junnah's self-destructive play, just keeps asking, "Who are you?...Are you your name?...Are you your roles...Are you your virtues...your sins?" Junah, simply trying to survive the humiliation, has no answers and grows increasingly frustrated. Finally, Bagger Vance explains that who we really are is what is left when all the "selves" of our mind's making have been stripped away. The roles we play, our own estimations of our performance, feedback from all the significant (or non-significant) others in our lives, false religious ideas that deny the value God places on us--when all these things are stripped away, we are finally left with who we really are. (I've gone beyond Bagger: this is me talking now.)
The problem with having all the "selves" stripped away is that we feel naked without our scorecard! We are accustomed to bolstering ourselves against inadequacy with thoughts like, "Well, at least I'm..." or "At least I'm not..." Let's face it, we are addicted to performance and no matter how many messages we hear about having our identity rooted in God, it is so much easier to nod than kneel! But, life finds us, and if we let Him, God finds us in the midst of life. I believe if we have truly committed ourselves to knowing Him, He does strip us of all the "selves" that hinder authentic relationship and cloud the issue of our life-worship. He wants his question, "Who are you?" to us to be followed by expectant listening, rather than frantic rationalization.
After Bagger tells Junah that he has been stripped of all the "selves" that could have been, he says (and I like to imagine with authority), "Now hit the ball with what is left." Junah protests, "But there's nothing left." And Bagger says, "Exactly." Junah hits the ball and, you guessed it, he found his swing.
I have noticed that God often calls us to strike the ball just at those moments when we think there is nothing left! ("Why couldn't some of these doors opened when our confidence was in tact?" we often feel.) God just might be saying, "Exactly. Hit the ball now and see what happens. You might just be about to discover what is beyond your own strength!" I can just see God, smiling at us in our desperation with understanding love, and saying, "Swing now with all you've got left--take a shot at your dreams now!" He would be smiling because he knew that our feelings of inadequacy are only artifacts of our shattered performance addiction. As we step up to strike the ball with our false securities toppled, He would know that we were about to find the joy of our authentic swing--the joy of simply expressing who we really are, as created by God, with no disclaimers. No, we're not talking about golf...this is worship...this is life...the metaphor works. Let it.
John 4:24--True worship is in spirit and transparency...authenticity...
I especially like the part where Bagger, caddying for the shattered war veteran, Rannulph Junah in the most stressful match of his life, is hammering him with the question, "Who are you?" Bagger, ignoring the mounting score due to Junnah's self-destructive play, just keeps asking, "Who are you?...Are you your name?...Are you your roles...Are you your virtues...your sins?" Junah, simply trying to survive the humiliation, has no answers and grows increasingly frustrated. Finally, Bagger Vance explains that who we really are is what is left when all the "selves" of our mind's making have been stripped away. The roles we play, our own estimations of our performance, feedback from all the significant (or non-significant) others in our lives, false religious ideas that deny the value God places on us--when all these things are stripped away, we are finally left with who we really are. (I've gone beyond Bagger: this is me talking now.)
The problem with having all the "selves" stripped away is that we feel naked without our scorecard! We are accustomed to bolstering ourselves against inadequacy with thoughts like, "Well, at least I'm..." or "At least I'm not..." Let's face it, we are addicted to performance and no matter how many messages we hear about having our identity rooted in God, it is so much easier to nod than kneel! But, life finds us, and if we let Him, God finds us in the midst of life. I believe if we have truly committed ourselves to knowing Him, He does strip us of all the "selves" that hinder authentic relationship and cloud the issue of our life-worship. He wants his question, "Who are you?" to us to be followed by expectant listening, rather than frantic rationalization.
After Bagger tells Junah that he has been stripped of all the "selves" that could have been, he says (and I like to imagine with authority), "Now hit the ball with what is left." Junah protests, "But there's nothing left." And Bagger says, "Exactly." Junah hits the ball and, you guessed it, he found his swing.
I have noticed that God often calls us to strike the ball just at those moments when we think there is nothing left! ("Why couldn't some of these doors opened when our confidence was in tact?" we often feel.) God just might be saying, "Exactly. Hit the ball now and see what happens. You might just be about to discover what is beyond your own strength!" I can just see God, smiling at us in our desperation with understanding love, and saying, "Swing now with all you've got left--take a shot at your dreams now!" He would be smiling because he knew that our feelings of inadequacy are only artifacts of our shattered performance addiction. As we step up to strike the ball with our false securities toppled, He would know that we were about to find the joy of our authentic swing--the joy of simply expressing who we really are, as created by God, with no disclaimers. No, we're not talking about golf...this is worship...this is life...the metaphor works. Let it.
John 4:24--True worship is in spirit and transparency...authenticity...
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
You are the art..
Recently, while preparing to speak at a conference, I had a small brain-burn. I had grown quite at ease with the questioning looks among the Christian audiences to which I had been speaking for a couple of years, but I was heading to the U.K. to unload my passion for "Engaging the Culture" on the other side of "the pond." Would I have enough information in my arsenal to help the church there smile at postmodernity in the way that Paul connected with the Mars Hill altar? Had I really grasped the concepts enough to dance through them with ease while a few hundred eyes watched? Was I sure my information was vital enough to take up an hour of precious conference time, and more than that, did I have it prepared well enough so that the listeners would not zone into the boredom-induced oblivion (or depression) that so easily attends Christians dissertations on postmodernism?
Brain-burns can be good, however. It was only when I reached detail overload that the balancing force of my passion went to work for me. Fed up with self-induced pressure to perform, I remembered an encounter from a week before. At a building dedication in our town, I had run into an artist friend of mine whom I had not seen in a long time. As we greeted each other, I had heard myself say to her, "Juliana, look at you: YOU ARE the art!" On that day, she had gathered together a combination of clothing and accessories that had never before collided on a human body, but it worked--and she looked outwardly like an expression of the worlds of creativity swirling inside her! In that moment, it occurred to both of us that I had said more than I had realized: It is not what comes out of our hands that is the "art" of our lives, but what comes out of our essence. We--not what we produce--really are the art! What we create has meaning because it comes from our hearts, our vision, our Kingdom journey...
So, I breathed deeply and felt the inspiration return. I might not be the consummate expert on all postmodern doctrine (now there's a double oxymoron--combining "postmodern" with both "expert" and "doctrine"!), BUT I do have a gleam in my eye when I discuss it! I might not wow the crowd with historical and sociological detail, but I do have a grasp of the anthropology of the spirit! I might not understand all the impending theological pitfalls, BUT I am absolutely in love with the challenge of connecting the divine life inside me with the postmodern party around me and convinced that the truth is both more powerful AND more FUN than anyone ever dared dream! In other words, I realized that, even as a conference speaker, I AM THE ART! And whether I am in Britain, Boston, or Bolivia, all I can do is hang my heart on the gallery wall and let the crowds decide! And there is peace and freedom in that, because no one hangs in a gallery without referencing the Artist! It's really His "gig"!
I believe my own epiphany can be universally applied. Every Christian is the expression of the Artist--every Christian really is the art! Why do we spend so much time and thought-energy trying to change ourselves when our Creator has painted (and redeemed) the masterpiece inside each of us? I went to the U.K. and enjoyed myself immensely as I gave my talk to the most receptive group of listeners ever. They "got it" because I came to them as "art", NOT just information. Whatever you do, whatever challenges you must face, you, too, are the art... Let the brain-burn reveal the brushstrokes of the Creator and laugh as the performance pressure falls away...
For more inspiration, go to Ephesians 2:10 and Psalm 139:13-16
Brain-burns can be good, however. It was only when I reached detail overload that the balancing force of my passion went to work for me. Fed up with self-induced pressure to perform, I remembered an encounter from a week before. At a building dedication in our town, I had run into an artist friend of mine whom I had not seen in a long time. As we greeted each other, I had heard myself say to her, "Juliana, look at you: YOU ARE the art!" On that day, she had gathered together a combination of clothing and accessories that had never before collided on a human body, but it worked--and she looked outwardly like an expression of the worlds of creativity swirling inside her! In that moment, it occurred to both of us that I had said more than I had realized: It is not what comes out of our hands that is the "art" of our lives, but what comes out of our essence. We--not what we produce--really are the art! What we create has meaning because it comes from our hearts, our vision, our Kingdom journey...
So, I breathed deeply and felt the inspiration return. I might not be the consummate expert on all postmodern doctrine (now there's a double oxymoron--combining "postmodern" with both "expert" and "doctrine"!), BUT I do have a gleam in my eye when I discuss it! I might not wow the crowd with historical and sociological detail, but I do have a grasp of the anthropology of the spirit! I might not understand all the impending theological pitfalls, BUT I am absolutely in love with the challenge of connecting the divine life inside me with the postmodern party around me and convinced that the truth is both more powerful AND more FUN than anyone ever dared dream! In other words, I realized that, even as a conference speaker, I AM THE ART! And whether I am in Britain, Boston, or Bolivia, all I can do is hang my heart on the gallery wall and let the crowds decide! And there is peace and freedom in that, because no one hangs in a gallery without referencing the Artist! It's really His "gig"!
I believe my own epiphany can be universally applied. Every Christian is the expression of the Artist--every Christian really is the art! Why do we spend so much time and thought-energy trying to change ourselves when our Creator has painted (and redeemed) the masterpiece inside each of us? I went to the U.K. and enjoyed myself immensely as I gave my talk to the most receptive group of listeners ever. They "got it" because I came to them as "art", NOT just information. Whatever you do, whatever challenges you must face, you, too, are the art... Let the brain-burn reveal the brushstrokes of the Creator and laugh as the performance pressure falls away...
For more inspiration, go to Ephesians 2:10 and Psalm 139:13-16
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