simply holy, wholly simple

I was on-call at the hospital this week, Sunday to be specific. A standing responsibility as chaplain on a Sunday is to lead a chapel service in two locations of the hospital. In one setting, six patients and I came together to meet God. No one arrived without help from a nursing aide and I greeted each one as they were brought in.

One had a hip replacement. Another had heart problems. Others had a stroke, an accident, or some situation they didn’t offer this congregation of saints and sinners. From the first few moments, I wanted to take off my shoes. The holiness of this gathering was almost as visible as the tears that it caused.

I shared a reading from Psalm 139 suggesting that there’s no place we can go to escape the presence and power of God. Before I could ask, others starting sharing their stories, most of which were told through tears. When I was trying to bring things to a close, I asked if anyone had a song they’d like to offer making some joke about not wanting to sing myself. As most everyone laughed, one patient quietly said, “I’ve got something to offer.” And he began to sing. As large tears marked his rough face, his offering marked my soul.

What God has for me, it is for me.
What God has for me, it is for me.
I know without a doubt, that he will bring me out.
What God has for me, it is for me.
(“It is for Me,” Miami Mass Choir)

I prayed our closing prayer calling each person by name. What struck me was that for about 45 minutes that Sunday morning, I was with the church. We normally say “at” church. But, that doesn’t seem to fit much anymore. Church isn’t a place. Nope. For me, church is a communal reality, a way of living, and a way of being human.

Simple stories.
A simple song.
A simple gathering of flesh and blood, hands and feet, hearts and minds.
Simply beautiful.
Simply meaningful.

Simply holy.
Wholly simple.

spring forward, never go back

I've got lots on my mind these days, especially about the church and her future.

I took a picture this afternoon of the first bloom on the dwarf georgia peach tree in our front yard. I am hopeful that spring is soon coming bringing new things. I am reminded that winter brought some things to an end.

In many ways, this peach tree had to die in order to bring something new. And, I am wondering about the church even still...

a fountain flowing deep and wide

I was invited to lead an “Evocative Presentation” for the North Carolina Regional Meeting of the Shiloh Network which I did earlier this week. I thought the task was to talk about how to talk to young people about call and vocation. When I arrived I was reminded that the title of the session was “Recovering the Lost Language of Call.” What I had planned was close enough so that I could make a few extra notes and move forward without too much of a hiccup. Here’s the first point of what I was tried to do in less than 15 minutes. Yeah, I had also planned too much and had to cut how evocative I could be since I was sharing the workshop with another, and evoker. (Maybe I’ll add the rest in a future post to see how provocative an evocative I came up with.)

Point #1 – I read the gospel reading from the Daily Office for the day prior to this event. I had heard this in a podcast and it struck me that this is what should be done when we’re trying to lead others in any way. I read the follow-up verses to the story in John 4 after Jesus had encountered the Samaritan woman. What struck me was what the folks from her village said once they personally encountered Jesus.

They said to the woman, "We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world." (John 4:42, TNIV)

This is a key principle of leadership in most, if not all, contexts (i.e., to help others become able to say, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves.”)

Leading others to Christ has been anything but this for too many years. We’ve tried to make a uniform faith, an orthodox doctrine, or a systematic theology (Uh oh, what did I just attack there??). We’ve attempted to explain the Christian faith in cookie cutter fashion leaving no room for a “see for yourself” gospel reality.

The Samaritan woman teaches a great lesson. Tell others the story, but give them room enough to discover Christ in their own ways. Might this produce richer and more meaningful expressions of faith that aren’t so homogeneous or orthodox?

The richness of a faithful community might best be described by the depth of its diversity rather than the breadth of its conformity.

public and private prayer...you are now free to move around the country...and piss everyone off

I now have Nextel for my wireless phone service. It works fine for the most part. But, I’m not sure about this two-way radio connection. I can talk to my wife and a couple of neighbors, but I just don’t use it much of the time because I get annoyed when others use it publicly with the volume blasting. For most folks in a restaurant (McDonald’s for me this morning) who are having a conversation face-to-face, respectfully they keep their voices low. But, for one woman that was impossible. That piercing beep/chirp unique to Nextel was constantly alerting the entire restaurant that one side of the conversation was over. Her volume was entirely too loud letting all of us in on the conversation about where she was to meet her friend/mother/sister and what time. Also, the restating of every other sentence was equally annoying. To make matters worse as Annoying Person #1 continues her conversation in walks another Nextel user beeping his way to the counter saying something about his many morning tasks that he had to finish before responding to his partner’s radio request. (BTW, this included consuming two McGriddles, a cup of coffee, and some kind of lengthy morning ritual in the men’s room.) By the end of writing this paragraph, three other Nextelians invaded the place chirping their way all of my nerves. Maybe our phones are different, but there is a way to keep these kinds of conversations private (or at least half of it.) We also have volume switches to keep in down in public.

I am reminded of what Jesus said about keeping things to yourself, especially spirituality.

"And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. (Matthew 6.5-8, TNIV)

I am afraid we live in a culture that values the public display of piety much more than persons whose inner lives are rich and deep in the ways of God. I am afraid even further that the hypocrites and Pharisees may be winning the public debate on church. It is possible that the majority of evangelicals in America would much rather have a Nextel than a prayer closet. (And I don't think aforementioned "morning ritual" included any sort of prayer."