I can't get it out of my mind, this "context" thing... Even while we travelled up from Texas to Nebraska to celebrate my husband's parents' 50th wedding anniversary, amidst the golden decorations and reunions with family and friends, the theme kept running through me like an undercurrent.
I've been thinking of the Joseph of amazing technicolor dreamcoat fame. If ever a man dreamed beyond the confines of his current "context", it was Joseph the Hebrew. His brothers had absoltely no grid in which to cast his dreams--dreams which, to their mind, violated cultural sensibilities and identified Joseph as a selfish aggrandizer. Joseph's faher, Jacob, had the heart to provide his favored son a context, but couldn't wrap his head around the dream's implication that he would bow down to his own son! Amazingly, Joseph, the man given dreams by God, found NO context in God's earthly expression, the nation of Israel, the offspring of Abraham. Abraham had looked for a city that was not of this earth, but Jacob and his sons couldn't see past their own camels.
So, Joseph, through no choice of his own, was forced to find context in a foreign land! He was forced outside the covenant of promise into Egypt, a land large enough to accommodate a vision from eternity and a gifted heart. In Egypt, the reaction to Joseph's abilities (and yes, Joseph may have been more hesitant to show them off after his pit experience), was not a threatened one, but rather one of appreciation. First in Potiphar's house, then in prison and ultimately in the palace of Pharaoh, Joseph found context for his visionary giftedness. In fact, it was the pharaoh himself who provided Joseph with the ultimate context for the fulfillment of his youthful dreams! Look at Pharaoh's reaction when he sees the gift in the Hebrew slave whose vision exceeds all his own magicians'. He does not react with intimidation, as did the brothers and even the father. Rather, he is secure enough in his position (as pharaoh's generally were) to follow a John Maxwell leadership principle and put the guy with influence in his cabinet!!!!
It amazes me that the "world" provided more context for Joseph than the "church" of his day, but then again it is vaguely familiar (I refer you back to the previous blog entry where U2 was discussed...). What is more amazing is the reason that this was the case. Was it that Pharaoh--all-powerful in government--feared no challenge to his authority, or was it instead that the Egyptian culture had more appreciation for the value of the supernatural and the prophetic than the nation of Israel? Either way, we should feel challenged.
Someone once said that while the release of the prophetic in the church presents a challenge to religion, the apostolic presents a challenge to politics! In other words, a true apostolic church is one who understands how to create context, that is, to release and make room for ministry, rather than nervously hold on to title and position (And believe me, I know what fear that strikes into even the purest of hearts...making room can be messy!) But, if a pagan pharaoh can believe it is his destiny to rule a land, how much more can Christian leaders relax in the notion that their own place is secure!! Pharaoh had no real connection to God, only a sense of the eternal! We have the confidence of relationship with the living God--the administrator of the whole big picture! We do not have to fear his misplacing our resume!
Old Testament Egypt has always been an allegory for the world and rightly so. But more than ever we live in a world that is open to the supernatural. We live in a world that is more ready to accept dreamers and seers than perhaps ever before. We live in a world that is open to the art and expression that comes from the furnaces of true spirituality. Wouldn't it be sad--no tragic--if only Egypt celebrated the Christian art we criticized? Wouldn't it be sad if the word "grace" became more understood in Pharaoh's palace than at the altar??? It doesn't have to be this way.
I mentioned the 50th anniversary reunion for my husbands' parents. Because Peg and Eldon Brownback are rare individuals who have spent a lifetime creating a haven for the hurting while asking nothing in return, all kinds of relatives turned out to honor them. Many of them had not been to a family event of this kind in years and there was a real sense of joy about getting together. One nephew cooked a huge celebratory meal complete with french names for the hors d'oeuvres and everything. A true artist, Charlie was in the kitchen all day, entertaining us with humor and educating us to the joys of food properly prepared--demonstrating all the while that, like food, life itself should be savored! At the end of the day, someone started a conversation about church and Charlie explained the reasons why he did not attend, even though he believed in God quite strongly. I couldn't help myself--I went there! "Charlie," I said, "What if there were a church that allowed you to be you--wild man that you are? What if there were a place that did it without the pretense and the rank and formality and what if you could experience church as true fellowship--heart-to-heart--as you have here with us?" I went on to say, "You are the kind of person who gives their whole heart to everything--I can tell that easily--and you are the first kind of person who gets hurt in many churches who don't know how to handle your zeal and candor. But, I believe God is doing a new thing and helping the church become truly a place where you no longer have to pretend and where you can be youself and know a God who only wants to pour out his life upon you, rather than conform you to a mold of religiosity!"
Poor Charlie--he had pushed my context button! He was ready to exit my presence after my little preaching stint (and who could blame him), but as he turned to go, he said, "You show me a place like that and I'll be there!" As he walked away, I said, partly to him and partly to the heavens, "That's what we're all about, Charlie...that's what we're all about..."
Please God, let the Jacobs and the brothers take a lesson from Pharaoh and value the dreamers among us. Let the church rise to the challenge and let the apostolic--God's wisdom for heavenly government--replace competition and political heirarchies. Let it be what all of us are all about...
Read again the story of Joseph in Genesis, chapters 37-45.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Sunday, June 26, 2005
"Let there be 'context'..."
Having just watched Bono give an amazing interview about Live 8 on the Sunday morning news show, "Meet the Press," I'm off thinking again about the issue of "context". It was a few years ago that Pete Atkins first introduced me to the term as related to people with dreams of ministry. After listening to me express in desperate tones the passion and possibilities for new expressions of local church that were bursting forth from inside me only to swirl around in the atmosphere, he patiently offered his diagnosis: "The only thing you need is the right context." I knew what he meant. A dictionary does not finish its serivce when it has supplied simply the definition and origin of a certain word. It must go on to demonstrate that word in context--use it in a sentence--bring it to life by putting it to work in relationship to strings of other words working at the same thought! I, a single word, needed to find sentences in which I belonged!
On the most basic level, "context" is provided for individual Christian by the local church and it is here that the Bono thought pattern kicks back in. It is generally agreed by progressive thinkers that the "word" in Bono--the vision he had to change the world, make a statement, get outside the cloister--found no context at the time in the local church, so Bono creted his own. He and U2 crafted a "sentence" of their own when the church refused to surround them with their meaning. By inhabiting the priveleges that the West awards rock stars, U2 has made room for their messages, whether they be related to the AIDS or the poor, Martin Luther King, Sept. 11 or the Kingdom itself and the search for God. They went outside the church to find context, and now, ironically, they are speaking back into the church their "word", influencing many.
Throughout the past decade, as I have explored the relationship of the church to postmodern culture, my local church has indeed patiently provided me with context. They discussed, questioned, tempered, adjusted and added their words to every new spiritual discovery I made. Like a base camp for a mountain climber, they patiently waited for me to come in from the extreme and report on my most recent excursion to the summits. They have been a wonderful family to me and I thought that was as good it it could get. Though I still didn't feel I understood my position fully, I tried to be satisfied. But, I now realize, that there is another Kingdom level--beyond the local church--through which "context" must and can be provided.
Through a visit to our church by a man named Stuart Bell, my understanding of context took a quantum leap into a Kingdom dimension. One morning of having him speak into our local setting explained so much to me. And through the conversation that followed, I felt, for what seemed like the first time in my Christian life, someone really understood what to do with my "energy" (and the turbulent storm that comes as part of the package)! Stuart Bell's world of meaning was the sentence my single word needed. His view of the Kingdom calmed me down as I realized there was plenty of room for me within it! Soon, I began to notice this same phenomenon in other places. I heard Terry Virgo speak and there it was again--a sense of context--knowing how to assemble dreams and visions into a cohesive Kingdom whole. Again, the view through his eyes settled my restlessness and eased my striving. I looked back to my past and remembered hearing John Noble and Normans Barnes make statements that had the same effect. I thought of David Thatcher and Arun Community Church--a place able to cope with the incredibly huge buzz surrounding their own rock band Delirious? without losing sight of either sanity or the local church. All of these were context-providers for Kingdom dreamers who were wise enough and/or blessed enough to receive them.
And then I realized what you theologians may have already realized. What I'm really talking about is the "apostolic". CONTEXT for the artists, preachers, dreamers, and all those desperate to help break the church out of its staid ghetto rhythms will come as the voice of the apostles (whether or not they own the title) is heard. If you are a "word" without a sentence--even a strange word, an action word, a hard-to-say word--don't lose heart. God is setting up context in the earth for the things that need to be expressed. There are leaders who carry within them enough meaning to house the big picture. They are a new breed who would rather do the work than wear the title, though they will wear the title if it helps do the work. They have lived a few years and seen a few things and they are tougher than they look and wiser than you had realized. And one day they just might point to you and say, "I know where you fit."
So, here's to the context providers...long may they live and well may they see... Read Luke 5:37-39...
On the most basic level, "context" is provided for individual Christian by the local church and it is here that the Bono thought pattern kicks back in. It is generally agreed by progressive thinkers that the "word" in Bono--the vision he had to change the world, make a statement, get outside the cloister--found no context at the time in the local church, so Bono creted his own. He and U2 crafted a "sentence" of their own when the church refused to surround them with their meaning. By inhabiting the priveleges that the West awards rock stars, U2 has made room for their messages, whether they be related to the AIDS or the poor, Martin Luther King, Sept. 11 or the Kingdom itself and the search for God. They went outside the church to find context, and now, ironically, they are speaking back into the church their "word", influencing many.
Throughout the past decade, as I have explored the relationship of the church to postmodern culture, my local church has indeed patiently provided me with context. They discussed, questioned, tempered, adjusted and added their words to every new spiritual discovery I made. Like a base camp for a mountain climber, they patiently waited for me to come in from the extreme and report on my most recent excursion to the summits. They have been a wonderful family to me and I thought that was as good it it could get. Though I still didn't feel I understood my position fully, I tried to be satisfied. But, I now realize, that there is another Kingdom level--beyond the local church--through which "context" must and can be provided.
Through a visit to our church by a man named Stuart Bell, my understanding of context took a quantum leap into a Kingdom dimension. One morning of having him speak into our local setting explained so much to me. And through the conversation that followed, I felt, for what seemed like the first time in my Christian life, someone really understood what to do with my "energy" (and the turbulent storm that comes as part of the package)! Stuart Bell's world of meaning was the sentence my single word needed. His view of the Kingdom calmed me down as I realized there was plenty of room for me within it! Soon, I began to notice this same phenomenon in other places. I heard Terry Virgo speak and there it was again--a sense of context--knowing how to assemble dreams and visions into a cohesive Kingdom whole. Again, the view through his eyes settled my restlessness and eased my striving. I looked back to my past and remembered hearing John Noble and Normans Barnes make statements that had the same effect. I thought of David Thatcher and Arun Community Church--a place able to cope with the incredibly huge buzz surrounding their own rock band Delirious? without losing sight of either sanity or the local church. All of these were context-providers for Kingdom dreamers who were wise enough and/or blessed enough to receive them.
And then I realized what you theologians may have already realized. What I'm really talking about is the "apostolic". CONTEXT for the artists, preachers, dreamers, and all those desperate to help break the church out of its staid ghetto rhythms will come as the voice of the apostles (whether or not they own the title) is heard. If you are a "word" without a sentence--even a strange word, an action word, a hard-to-say word--don't lose heart. God is setting up context in the earth for the things that need to be expressed. There are leaders who carry within them enough meaning to house the big picture. They are a new breed who would rather do the work than wear the title, though they will wear the title if it helps do the work. They have lived a few years and seen a few things and they are tougher than they look and wiser than you had realized. And one day they just might point to you and say, "I know where you fit."
So, here's to the context providers...long may they live and well may they see... Read Luke 5:37-39...
Saturday, June 11, 2005
"Almost cut my hair..."
(And yes, that title is a quote from the David Crosby song on the C,S &N Deja Vu album.)
I pity the hair stylists who land me in their chair. I place upon them so much responsibility as I describe my vision for a "look" that communicates both, "I refuse to fulfill your expectations of an American Charismatic pastor's wife," and "I refuse simply to follow the latest trend." Usually, I have compiled from three or more glimpses of haircuts gained while riding the London underground a vision that I attempt to communicate to Texas hairstylists with wild hand-gestures and words like "messy," "a bit uneven," "unique but not weird," and the ever-popular "edgy". Even the best stylists have resorted to presenting me with large books of pictures and saying, "Just point to what you mean," attempting to hide their frustration that I am trying to channel my huge inner need to make a statement through their tiny scissors!
Recently I left a local Azle stylist with a decent haircut. We had communicated as well as could be expected and I looked fairly "uncategorizable," which made me happy. I should have been fine for at least a month. I wasn't. Whether it was the intense Texas summer heat or the fast pace life had taken recently, I just wanted even less hair on my head than the geometric edges left to me. Ridiculous thoughts I had never had before came and would not leave: "I could probably cut hair--I do calligraphy." So, on Memorial Day when it was really hot and all the shops were closed, I picked up the scissors and proceeded to do my own version of Annie Lennox.
I'll spare the details, but a few days later, I sat in another stylist's chair again using words like edgy, messy and unique, but now asking her to "fix" what I had butchered. To fix it, she had to make it really short, since I had already taken it to short. When she finished, I felt a great degree of resolution. I assumed that that the satisfaction was simply a hair crisis averted, but for the last few days, I've been thinking it was more. Indulge me while I make sense of it. (And though this blog entry may have seemed gender-specific until now, here's where it goes universal...)
I have spent years studying God, the world, the culture, and the Scriptures because I could not help but do it. It was my worship, suggested to me by no one but the forces of my own heart. If I found a moment's down time between all the activities of suburban church and family life, I ran to a pile of waiting books, journals and a computer and continued to build my stock of revelatory observations about this amazing Kingdom journey that God inspires. Everywhere there was treasure and I was the explorer. In the arts, the sciences and even the business world (where I had formerly counted myself a real outsider), I found both evidences of, and potential for, God's touch! And I looked at it, thought about it, and attempted to record it much like Monet recorded the light that flashed upon a landscape in a single impression.
Recently, it became apparent to me through the wise counsel of others, that my little aresenal of collected thought could indeed find a welcome outside my own brain. It was time to take my inner world on the road, so to speak, and let it inspire and affect others! What followed is well known to any artist who attempts to connect natural passion to necessary promotion: a lot of work, planning and packaging that some days feels right and other days feels like embarassingly disorienting self-agrandizement and finds us saying, "What am I doing?" I am used to unearthing revelation that makes people stop and wonder, not trying to compete with all the trendy Christian things "out there"! My friends were right in nudging me outward, but there were things to process.
I honestly believe the haircutting fit was somehow related. I was hating the sense that I needed to add extra "grooming" to myself to "look good" in a world where appearances were everything. Wasn't the spiritual information I had enough? The haircuts I found myself longing for reminded me of the way medieval nuns are portrayed in movies--shorn messily close to their heads, with no regard to appearance. In some way, I think I was longing for just the simple life of devotion I had before I thought anyone might be watching. I wanted the extra weight of not just "being myself" but now "packaging myself" to be whacked off, no matter how it left me looking. I wanted to be free from the temptation to preen and posture. I didn't want to succumb to the performance-orientation and competitiveness that smacks of religion rather than Christianity and ultimately chokes true worship.
Of course, it's only hair. It doesn't really matter either way. But just as I begin to aplogize for choosing this topic for a blog entry, I think of prophets like Jeremiah and Hosea and I think perhaps I don't owe an apology. Jeremiah's physical appearance was often metaphorical and Hosea's metaphor even extended even to his marriage. It seemed God used all aspects of the prophets' lives to "make a statement"! Who could have thought that the torture I put the stylists through could be related to a Bible story? (I don't think I'll tell them that.)
Funny, I have made a statement this time with my hair--not to society, but rather to God. To Him, I am crying out, "Help me believe NOW--as I emerge slowly from the sanctum of obscurity-- what I have always believed: that you are the Master Artist not just of my inner world, but also of my destiny and the path I am to take. Help me look past all the politics and competition that dances around the fringe of the Kingdom--stop me somehow from being intimidated by it and refocus me on You! I don't want to play the game or sing the song that marketing demands. I only want to continue to share my inner world of worship with those who need to be warmed by it. I am willing to work hard, but I am not willing to lose my life of worship. Deliver me from the 'strife of men' and teach me to live in a secret place with you, even in the midst of a crowd--or Christian feeding frenzy."
I really did cut my hair... I may never need to physically "shake it off" in the same way again, but I am sure I will continue to apply the lesson learned. If I am not enough, just as I am, to be thrown like seed to the wind in the hands of the Harvest-Lord, I will never become enough by adding the polish, scheming and technique that I pick up from scanning the market horizon.
To read what I'm really saying in fewer words and without any cosmetology mentioned, go to Micah 6:8 and Psalm 131
I pity the hair stylists who land me in their chair. I place upon them so much responsibility as I describe my vision for a "look" that communicates both, "I refuse to fulfill your expectations of an American Charismatic pastor's wife," and "I refuse simply to follow the latest trend." Usually, I have compiled from three or more glimpses of haircuts gained while riding the London underground a vision that I attempt to communicate to Texas hairstylists with wild hand-gestures and words like "messy," "a bit uneven," "unique but not weird," and the ever-popular "edgy". Even the best stylists have resorted to presenting me with large books of pictures and saying, "Just point to what you mean," attempting to hide their frustration that I am trying to channel my huge inner need to make a statement through their tiny scissors!
Recently I left a local Azle stylist with a decent haircut. We had communicated as well as could be expected and I looked fairly "uncategorizable," which made me happy. I should have been fine for at least a month. I wasn't. Whether it was the intense Texas summer heat or the fast pace life had taken recently, I just wanted even less hair on my head than the geometric edges left to me. Ridiculous thoughts I had never had before came and would not leave: "I could probably cut hair--I do calligraphy." So, on Memorial Day when it was really hot and all the shops were closed, I picked up the scissors and proceeded to do my own version of Annie Lennox.
I'll spare the details, but a few days later, I sat in another stylist's chair again using words like edgy, messy and unique, but now asking her to "fix" what I had butchered. To fix it, she had to make it really short, since I had already taken it to short. When she finished, I felt a great degree of resolution. I assumed that that the satisfaction was simply a hair crisis averted, but for the last few days, I've been thinking it was more. Indulge me while I make sense of it. (And though this blog entry may have seemed gender-specific until now, here's where it goes universal...)
I have spent years studying God, the world, the culture, and the Scriptures because I could not help but do it. It was my worship, suggested to me by no one but the forces of my own heart. If I found a moment's down time between all the activities of suburban church and family life, I ran to a pile of waiting books, journals and a computer and continued to build my stock of revelatory observations about this amazing Kingdom journey that God inspires. Everywhere there was treasure and I was the explorer. In the arts, the sciences and even the business world (where I had formerly counted myself a real outsider), I found both evidences of, and potential for, God's touch! And I looked at it, thought about it, and attempted to record it much like Monet recorded the light that flashed upon a landscape in a single impression.
Recently, it became apparent to me through the wise counsel of others, that my little aresenal of collected thought could indeed find a welcome outside my own brain. It was time to take my inner world on the road, so to speak, and let it inspire and affect others! What followed is well known to any artist who attempts to connect natural passion to necessary promotion: a lot of work, planning and packaging that some days feels right and other days feels like embarassingly disorienting self-agrandizement and finds us saying, "What am I doing?" I am used to unearthing revelation that makes people stop and wonder, not trying to compete with all the trendy Christian things "out there"! My friends were right in nudging me outward, but there were things to process.
I honestly believe the haircutting fit was somehow related. I was hating the sense that I needed to add extra "grooming" to myself to "look good" in a world where appearances were everything. Wasn't the spiritual information I had enough? The haircuts I found myself longing for reminded me of the way medieval nuns are portrayed in movies--shorn messily close to their heads, with no regard to appearance. In some way, I think I was longing for just the simple life of devotion I had before I thought anyone might be watching. I wanted the extra weight of not just "being myself" but now "packaging myself" to be whacked off, no matter how it left me looking. I wanted to be free from the temptation to preen and posture. I didn't want to succumb to the performance-orientation and competitiveness that smacks of religion rather than Christianity and ultimately chokes true worship.
Of course, it's only hair. It doesn't really matter either way. But just as I begin to aplogize for choosing this topic for a blog entry, I think of prophets like Jeremiah and Hosea and I think perhaps I don't owe an apology. Jeremiah's physical appearance was often metaphorical and Hosea's metaphor even extended even to his marriage. It seemed God used all aspects of the prophets' lives to "make a statement"! Who could have thought that the torture I put the stylists through could be related to a Bible story? (I don't think I'll tell them that.)
Funny, I have made a statement this time with my hair--not to society, but rather to God. To Him, I am crying out, "Help me believe NOW--as I emerge slowly from the sanctum of obscurity-- what I have always believed: that you are the Master Artist not just of my inner world, but also of my destiny and the path I am to take. Help me look past all the politics and competition that dances around the fringe of the Kingdom--stop me somehow from being intimidated by it and refocus me on You! I don't want to play the game or sing the song that marketing demands. I only want to continue to share my inner world of worship with those who need to be warmed by it. I am willing to work hard, but I am not willing to lose my life of worship. Deliver me from the 'strife of men' and teach me to live in a secret place with you, even in the midst of a crowd--or Christian feeding frenzy."
I really did cut my hair... I may never need to physically "shake it off" in the same way again, but I am sure I will continue to apply the lesson learned. If I am not enough, just as I am, to be thrown like seed to the wind in the hands of the Harvest-Lord, I will never become enough by adding the polish, scheming and technique that I pick up from scanning the market horizon.
To read what I'm really saying in fewer words and without any cosmetology mentioned, go to Micah 6:8 and Psalm 131
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)