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
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