"Chasing Francis" - Part 6 - The Ending

p. 189 - If Jesus or Francis were in my shoes, who would they ask to stand with them in the crucible?  Wouldn't it be a tarnished, limping lover of God like Maggie?  Wouldn't they chose the foolish to reach the wise?  it was lunacy, but there was also something poetic about it. 
Yeah, like Mary of Bethany....   Somebody who was forgiven much so she could love much. Zacchaeus the height-challenged tax collector. Who but God can bring people back to feeling valued, cherished and important? 

p. 190 - Years ago in Silesia, they built pulpits in the shape of a whale standing on its tail. In order to get to the dais, the pastor climbed a ladder through the whale's body until he emerged in the opening that represented its month, and from there he'd preach his sermon.  The implication was that a pastor didn't have the right to preach until he'd spent some time wrestling with God, like Jonah did. 
Although young, my pastor has spent time in the crucible and it shows in his ability to listen and to give spiritual direction. I'm blessed God chose Resurrection for my home faith community.

That paragraph also reminded me that my children's paternal grandfather who attended church under Pastor Aimee Semple McPherson (founder of the 4-Square denomination). He told about a time she had a life-sized whale made and she preached from the mouth of the whale. Apparently she had quite a dramatic bent and probably fit in quite well at her founding church, Angelus Temple in Los Angeles. I can't imagine how exciting that would have been for a young child back before television and with the depression no money for movies.

p. 195 - Francis taught me that if we spent less time worrying about how to share our faith with someone on an airplane and more time thinking about how to live radically generous lives, more people would start taking our message seriously. 
I liked this because it helped me see "generous" as much greater then financial giving. Yes, financial generosity is a wonderful foundation; but there are so many other areas of life to grow into generosity. That makes me think of John the Baptist's quote, "He must increase and I must decrease."  That incremental growth from being a hoarder to being generous... whether that is financial giving, giving of time, talents, patience, kindness, gentleness, etc.

p. 196 - Sometimes when I read Christian magazines or hear Christian leaders, it's downright scary. Liberals scream at conservatives, Republicans yell at Democrats, evangelicals berate revisionists, fundamentalists rail at everybody. It's like 'talk radio' Christianity--everyone believes they own the Truth and have a God given mandate to shove it down others' throats. I admit it,... I've even encouraged this kind of 'us versus them' spirit around here. I've even preached it, and I was wrong. Sure, we can disagree with others and sometimes we should--but whatever happened to gentleness and respect? 
Been there, done that. I look back at horror and wonder how I could have even called myself a Christian when I was doing that.  Maybe that's why the saying, "The Christian Church is the only army who kills its wounded" speaks to me deeply.  I would be on both sides - in the morgue and in the electric chair.  I thank God He is bringing me out of that mind set.

I think of these quotes from respected leaders of other religions:

"I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." - Mahatma Gandhi 

"Of all religions, Christianity is without a doubt the one that should inspire tolerance most, although, up to now, the Christians have been the most intolerant of all men."  -  Dalai Lama 

These quotes make me think how my Christian walk is viewed by others. Do I represent Christ well? Do I show the fruit of the spirit to all?  Do I show sacrificial giving to all?  Am I judgmental? Do I see "me verses you" in my approach to communication and relationships?  Am I egalitarian or elitist? Do I live solitary or with solidarity? Do I put people on a ladder and look up to some and down on others?  Some of those questions pinch more then new shoes.

p. 197 - When the church first began, it was a pacifistic movement, known for its outspoken criticism of any form of bloodshed or violence.  After Constantine legalized Christianity, "just war" theory emerged, which meant that Christians could participate in wars if certain criteria were satisfied.  By the year 1200, Christians were launching crusades and telling the faithful that killing Muslims would secure them a spot in heaven! What happened?  Somewhere along the way we forgot that Jesus intended the Sermon on the Mount to be an actual, concrete program for living. He wanted us to actually life it, not just admire it as a nice but unrealistic ideal. I mean, what would happen if Christians dedicated themselves to peacemaking with the same discipline and focus that armies do for war?  What difference could it make?  We have to revisit the early church's teaching about reconciliation, peacemaking and the Sermon on the Mount and ask ourselves if we're living them out or tiptoeing around them.

This is a somewhat new concept for me. Having spent 2 years in active duty US Army and 1 year in National Guard, it is an area where I may want to study and learn.  Part of me grasps the concept of pacifism and wants to run with it; part of me is just the opposite because of my military background and the children's father being retired military.

One thing that comes to mind as I read that paragraph: I got a chuckle from my priest at my last spiritual direction meeting when I said, "When I grow up I want to be a Jewish Quaker."  The little I've read about Quakers, I love their peacemaking and how they have been the leaders for many major movements and legislative changes: absolution of US slavery, women's rights, humane treatment of prisoners and insane, and the list goes on. I have a wonderful friend who was raised as a plain-clothed Quaker, trained in meditation and contemplation since childhood, and her generous spirit to all, along with her proactive pacifism, her ability to mirror dignity to others, her intelligence and wisdom have made a major impression on me. Thank you, my friend.

Although not well versed in history, even church history, the couple of things I know about Christians and war - the Crusades and the witch hunts; are enough to nauseate me. Jesus said to love our enemies; I can't think of one place where he said to kill, maim, shame or degrade them.

I agree with the author; just not sure what impact that will have on my life and how I practice my Christian faith. But I trust God to lead me.

p. 197 - I learned in Italy that Christians are called to urge their leaders to be peacemakers, too. This is one reason the church has to guard against holding up one political party as 'the Christian party." History has proven that over-identifying with one party is a recipe for disaster. If we get too cozy with one group, we'll lose our ability to criticize them prophetically if they go off the rails. 
I think that is true for more then political parties. I see that in denominations and even non-denominational groups. In my opinion, my identity is "Christ in me; and me in Christ" and how best to walk that out. Yet, I also love the faith tradition of the Anglican (Episcopalian or Church of England) Church.

p. 199 - We're all broken people who've lost our dignity, in one way or another. Francis whole life was a about giving people their dignity back--poor people, lepers, people who were despised and rejected by society--the very people Jesus sought out to minister to. His commitment to restoring people's sense of their God-given value thrilled the hearts of cynics who had all but given up on believing that the gospel was good news to anyone.  
I've had a few people like that in my life - who came along side me and mirrored the value they saw in me in such a way I could accept it and start to apply it to my life. I want to expand to allow God to use me to do that for others.  Yet, if you'd ask me if I have self-esteem; my answer would be "No, I have God-esteem."  My self-esteem is like Humpty Dumpty - who couldn't get put back together again. So God gave Christ to live in me and be my God-esteem to replace my broken, tattered, bedraggled, fractured, irrepairable self-esteem. God-esteem is awesome.

p. 201 I thought of the Bible not as a story but as a black-and-white photograph, something you could use in a court of law to prove that our doctrines and propositions were rational and true. Talk about trivializing and holding back the beauty of the Bible! Now I see the Story more like a painting filled with glory, poetry and even blurry lines. Paints are trickier than photos. They're open to a wide variety of interpretation, depending on who's looking at them and the situations those viewers live in. Seeing the Bible this way could lead to things getting messy from time to time--but the Word is living, not static. Our job is to invite people to inhabit our story, to be part of what God's doing in history. And we don't need to feel constant pressure to defend it against its critics.  Truth doesn't need defending.  It is its own witness. 
That struck home with me. For years I would even say that that the Bible was my "law book" and I'd look for what I wanted and then pester God until he gave it to me; and if He didn't then I'd get the blues and feel like a worthless, faith-empty servant and presume His Word didn't work.

I love the way I am learning to view the Bible. As God's story and since we're all one in Him, then it's my story and your story, too.  As I live my story in Him and as I deeper understand His story of the Bible, the more they mirror each other and the more I see others living in that story - even when we're not homogenous. I like the universality of it being "our story in God" rather then "my story" and "your story" that separates and divides.

I like the last two (short) sentences; that Truth is it's own witness. Now when a person talks about their view and interpretation of Scripture; I can listen with an open mind. I may have 180 degree different interpretation; however, I've learned if I stay open to hear, they usually will stay open to listen to my story. I know I don't know it all - I only know through a glass darkly; so maybe what they see is something God will show me and they are preparing the way... or maybe God is using me to prepare the way for them.  I can smile and think to myself, "She's not where I am and I'm not where she is on our journey; and I'm okay with that because the Holy Spirit is the one who is to complete and perfect the work of Christ in us."  Thank you, Jesus, for showing me that it's not my job - but yours to grow people; so I can let it go and do what I'm called to do in the Great Commandment:  love God and love others.

"Chasing Francis" Part 5 - Poverty

 p. 164 - For him [Francis], it [poverty] was a way of completely identifying with Jesus. ... Francis believed that the Incarnation itself was Jesus way of embracing poverty--the Son of God coming to earth to be born in a stable and die on a cross. 

I found that amazing. Since last advent, I've thought more about the Incarnation and it continues to stagger me that the King of Glory (that we celebrated the week prior to advent on Christ the King Sunday), would come to earth, enter the womb of a virgin, be born in a stable, walk the earth to show us what God is like - love, love and more love - and die for us and be raised again to take away our fear of the future and our fear of death. How do I live that truth out?  What is God's plan for me to identify with Christ more and more? Although I'm sure the answer is on a minute to minute basis as God uses me; I think becoming a Tertiary Franciscan is a part of that movement toward God for me.

p. 167  Maggie once told me that when her drug problem had been at its worst, she and Iris [her 10 year old daughter] were homeless, ping-ponging from one shelter to another. It had never occurred to me that they had probably spent nights on the streets as well. Now she was holding a ghost, the memory of a daughter who had traveled the hardest road with her, only to die when the winds of fortune shifted in their favor. Grazie [a homeless street child] was a sacrament, a momentary point of contact with Iris. 

What hit me in that paragraph was "sacrament."  I want my life to be a sacrament. To be one way some people may be able to touch God at deeper levels. I don't know how to do it and I don't think my human mind can grasp things that deep - even if I was smarter or better educated in theology. For me, being a sacrament is mystery; because I know only God can do it and it has nothing to do with my do-ing or my be-ing. It is full gift. Father God, help me be open to being a sacrament when You need me to be Your hands on earth. Let it be done in secret so even I don't know it happens so I won't get prideful or unrealistic expectations about it. Amen.

p. 169  We're demonically possessed by materialism and hyper-consumption.  Unfortunately, Christians are as caught up in the system as everyone else.  The twenty-first century is perpetuating the lie that was popular in the thirteenth century: The more you have, the happier you'll be. 

I can speak to my own materialism. In the 90s, I had a rock ranch home that I loved, a hot tub in the back yard, a Miata with optional hardtop, a closet full of clothes including several dozen pair of shoes (I'm still a shoe-aholic), a job with prestige so even the General Managers would come out of their business meetings if they saw me walk down mahogany row, at church I taught children after I lead the praise and worship team. I was soooo visible; I was soooo full of myself and full of the materialistic trappings that go with that lifestyle.

But I knew I was empty inside; yearning for a filling of what I did not know but that I missed terribly - what I was missing was familiar but unknown. I eventually figured out that I'd been happier before materialism bit me; back when I knew how to take joy in the little things of life.  I think materialism can be part of the first half of life as Richard Rohr would call it.  The time when we come to realize all the stuff in the world isn't going to fill that Jesus shaped vacuum in our heart.  Yet, even when I was heavily materialistic, I knew Jesus was in my heart; but in hindsight, I was fighting being in His heart.

p. 169  We say we don't believe it [that Christians are materialistic], but our lives betray us. The church is a co-opted by money today as it was in the thirteenth century. Our next-door neighbors must look at us and think, You Christians say you're citizens of a different kingdom, yet you're just as consumed by malls, money, cars, clothes, vacations and homes as we are. What's the deal?  Why should anyone take our gospel seriously as long as we continue to serve two masters?  A faith that doesn't speak out against the sick assumptions of its culture is really no faith at all--it's just religion.

It is still a struggle to not look to materialism to make me feel whole; I've been indoctrinated by my culture.  I had a conversation with a friend a while back and we wondered just because we are thrifty and buy clothing at garage sales, thrift stores and on super-sales -- does that mean we're not materialistic, or is that a different way of self-deceiving. I'm beginning to see it as a new way to remain materialistic (thing oriented or stuff acquiring) while thinking I'm not being materialistic because the actual cost could be so much more if I'd buy things at the mall.

p. 172  There is a tensile surface on water that's always fascinated me. I've ruminated about that infinitesimally thin layer of resistance before when preparing for baptisms. Is the water giving the candidate one last chance to go back, a last-minute opportunity to pull away and say no to the intense yet life-giving drowning that lies ahead?  or is it a reminder that there really is a separation between this fallen world and the next.

Did Jesus walk on the tensile surface?  I'd never thought much about water, except how it could hold and gently rock the white puffs of a dandelion fuzz or cottonwood tree flluff. But then I moved to Labrador and a few days before the lake behind the house would freeze, the waves would change. Strong winds that would have beat the lake into white-capped waves, now barely made a ripple - yet the water was not frozen, just preparing for it's winter hibernation.

At this age of life, I especially like the second definition: tensile surface between this world and the next... when Jesus commended his spirit to the Father, he allowed himself to fall through the surface between this world and the next - knowing Abba Yhwh (Daddy God) would be there to catch him. It is truly a falling upward; maybe the ultimate falling upward. 

p. 172-173  [When asked to help bath a dying AIDS victim's genitals] As I pushed against my revulsion and plunged the rag beneath the water I thought of it again but refused its invitation to hold back. I'd passed through a border into the depths, and found I could still breathe there. My terror and embarrassment was replaced by peace, edging toward sublime joy.
"What happened there?" she asked.
"I think I became a Christian,"  I said.

I cried when I read that. From my religious background, it was permissible to go to prisons, to shelters, to daycare, to rest homes, to the street to minister to druggies and possibly to prostitutes; but people who ministered to homosexual or lesbians were shunned by the church. It was almost like it would be catching.

God had to take my journey through a women's shelter to teach me otherwise. I won't go into detail to protect the women's identities; but two of the women in the shelter were leaving abusive lesbian relationships. I wasn't sure how to respond when I found one of the most joyful, warm and compassionate women was a lesbian. She was my children's age and already a grandmother - we'd talk about our grandkids, about life, about abuse; we even talked about our sexual orientation. She had been a Christian before she came out of the closet and was asked to leave her church; and that caused her deep pain. I could see Christ in her and it puzzled and offended me. I invited her to my church because I knew she would be accepted; she wasn't willing to give it another try because she'd been rejected too many times.

One night during a group chat that had been very painful but healing for me, I gave her a big hug and told her I loved her. It was a sisterly love, not a sensual or sexual love. Something in me broke that night. I still know I'm hetro through and through; but I also know a chunk of hardness of my heart broke during that hug and God gave me the ability to love people who aren't homogenous to me. Thank God we're not all the same and we are all different. White, shashta daisies are my favorite flower; yet if all flowers were white shashta daisies, the garden would look very boring - the mixture of colors, textures and design is what gives the garden its beauty. My favorite daisy sticks out because of it's difference, not because of it's sameness.  We're all sinners saved by grace; yet it's our differences that bring beauty to the faith community - and give the talents to carry out the work of the ministry. We're all loved deeply by the same God; and as His ambassador on earth, my mandate is to love others like He did - unconditionally. I'm not perfect at it by a long shot, but at least I'm not fighting against it as stubbornly as I once did.

If God wants to change her; that is His work.  The work He has given me is to love others like Jesus loved me. I finally became okay with that.

For me, true poverty in one sense, is the inability to accept others. Matthew 5 says "Blessed are the poor in spirit for they will see God."  Had I stayed in my rich, fat-cat, know-it-all mindset, I would have missed the beautiful blessing of this woman's compassion and understanding. I could see God in her.  It amazes me what a better view life has when I'm not sitting on my high horse; but how tempting it is to climb back up there when faced with things that aren't comfortable for me.

p. 177-178 What happened next is difficult to explain and perhaps, as with all mysteries, it is unwise to try. All I know is that in the moment of reception [receiving the bread of communion] I was visited by God. Perhaps it was the goodness of the priest and his graciousness that silently opened a portal through which I momentarily made contact with the divine life.  Or maybe it was due to the Eucharist itself--the host mingling with my brokenness, dissolving in saliva, coming to rest in the shallows of my heart's confusion. Kneeling at the altar, I was overwhelmed by the sense that my fragmented and discontinuous life actually made sense. .... Every grief, every joy, every loss, every hope, every disappointment -- all the disparate pieces of my past, my present and even my uncharted future--were instantly joined together, and I saw it all for what it really was. Gift. The gratitude I felt was nearly unbearable.I began to weep quietly, sobbing with release, rocking gently back and forth, holding the communion rail to steady myself. I whispered over and over again the only prayer that really matters in this life: "Thank you, thank you, thank you." 

I feel like that most times I take communion. I don't know if it's possible to become addicted to the Eucharist; but I think I am.  I often try to look solemn as the line moves forward and finally it's my turn to raise my hands to receive the bread.  Normally I have a smile from ear to ear because I know what comes afterwards... that wonderful freedom of being joined deeper in Christ and recognizing others in Him - that universal love of God working within us to will and to do His good pleasure. How can I be solemn when I know that is what is about to happen. That beautiful, deep knowing; it's heady and addictive and I want more and more of Christ. I'm grateful I go to a church where at least part of the year I can partake of the Eucharistic feast TWICE a week.  Hallelujah!

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 Today I watched the 2004 youtube movie in English of St. John Bosco. Wow. I was very impressed with his spirituality and how he stood up for what he felt was right; and how eventually God brought him humbly to his knees to ask forgiveness of his superior and to state his desire to honor his vow of obedience - and how that all worked out. I'd never heard of the order he founded, Salesians; then I read they are the second largest Roman Catholic order. Impressive that in less then 2 centuries his ministry has had such an impact.

His earthly hero was St. Francis of Sales; so I read a bit about him and was, once again, impressed with his gentleness and spirituality. There was a quote on youtube that was how he kept his hot temper in check and it was something like - that this small event was not worth loosing his years of staying in gentleness. I'm sure that is not an accurate rendition but what I perceived.  I also liked this quote "The whole of Christian perfection consists in this: ask nothing from God, and refuse nothing from God." I am starting to see the wisdom in that.  I downloaded his "Introduction to the Devout Life" to possibly read later (is that materialism and/or unhealthy compulsive behavior -- since I have hundreds of free books I've downloaded to possibly read later). Since his ministry appears to be more lay-oriented, I'm quite pleased I've been lead in His direction.

I have loved hearing about living saints who have done exploits for God. I've never cared much for history, but now I enjoy being inspired by people who lived years or millenium ago - who are brothers and sisters in the Lord. That is very encouraging to me. It helps me understand that God has nurtured his church through many events; watched the church try to self-destruct; and yet I can see God's hand over and over as he used men and women who loved Him and would allow Him to use them. No wonder the Gaithers could write the lyrics to "The Church Triumphant."   
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I've been sick since Tuesday after work.  I have the icky chest and head cold with a temperature and muscle aches; it's  been going around here.  I may be weird, but I'm always grateful to have a cold. My MD in Tulsa said a cold is the body's way of cleaning at the cellular level and the best thing to do is let nature do it's cleaning and don't try to stop it.  He said people who let their body clean are less prone to cancer and other chronic illnesses. My body is chugging right along, cleaning away.   I am resting, drinking lots of orange juice with extra pulp, eating spicy food as it doesn't taste like cardboard and irrigating my nose with salt water. I have taken one spoon of Buckleys (tastes awful and it works) before bed so I slept well each night and taken several naps throughout both days. I said all that NOT as a pity party but as an excuse for not doing the office at all yesterday and only twice today. I am missing doing it - so that is progress and I'm happy about that. I am also happy I'm not beating myself up because I am gentle on myself during this time. But feeling I require an excuse to not do it instead of the freedom to learn how to incorporate it into my life just doesn't sit right. I trust God to instruct me and grow me.

Thoughts on the Daily Office

Tonight I have a chest cold. I went to work but had no energy to be alert had I tried to read after returning home.  I'm using salt water, orange juice and rest. That seems to work well.  My MD in Tulsa said a cold is a good thing; it is how the body cleans itself at the cellular level.  Thus, I am counting my blessings that my body is strong enough to do some spring cleaning.

I skipped the Daytime prayer because of work. Now I'm off for three days and am looking forward to doing each set prayer time. I actually found myself looking forward to the evening prayer time.

I'm single and have no bio-family in this country. I have church family and friends; but sometimes I miss the connectedness of bio-family, sharing a life and home with others with shared history and goals. The two times a day that I'm most vulnerable to self-pity is when I'm alone after work and before bed; traditionally those are times the family would interact, discuss the day, read the Bible and pray together. I realized tonight that I hadn't felt that empty place since starting the evening and night  divine office. Two of the set times happen when I'm most vulnerable and the communion with God and with other saints who would also be praying fills that void. 

That is where I am  today. I hope that feeling of deep contentment stays; but figure it will be two steps forward and one back as I make progress.  I'm okay with that as I am learning to be gentle with myself.  Finding a greater purpose and benefit of the Divine Office may help me grow in consistency and intentionality. I pray so.

"Chasing Francis" - Part 4: Beauty, Peace & Preaching

This is not proof-read as it's time for night prayer and sleep.  Aaah, I'm learning self-discipline.

I am enjoying the book very much. I read several chapters today.  The first chapter is about finding God through art. One grandson is majoring in violin at university; it was through his talent that he found Christ. He told me that to have such talent has to be a gift and that gift could only come from God. It opened his eyes to faith. He chose to become Anglican because of the friendliness of the people at that parish near his home and some of his friends attended there. As his grandmother, I have bragging rights: he started playing at age 12, which is quite old to start as most children start prior to kindergarten. A couple years later and he was in the city's junior symphony; by 10th grade he was in all-state orchestra playing first chair; by 12th grade, he was the only high school student in one of the city's symphonies. As a sophomore in university, if I remember what my son said correctly, he is third position of first chair and the two violinists who outrank him are doctoral students. Thoughts of my grandson flitted through my mind quite often while reading this chapter. I would have loved to have read it together and heard his comments as a budding musician and Christian. Bragging rights ending and back to the wonderful book.

BEAUTY

p. 106-107  I am always brought to tears when I hear a marvelous performance followed by a standing ovation. I feel that at the climax of our cheering, we cross a boundary and unwittingly begin applauding some other reality, a performer we know is there but who cannot be seen.  We want to thank Beauty itself.  Let me be bold for a moment.  Is it possible that during this evening's performance we unconsciously sensed Someone standing behind the beautiful Someone who is its source, and we were moved to praise him as well?  I am a musicologist, but I am also an ordained priest in the Church of England. For years I have tried to separate the different hats I wear, but I have been quite unsuccessful, so if you will indulge me, I would like to conclude my remarks this evening by suggesting that there is a distinct relationship between beauty and the heart's search for God. 

When I hear beautiful music, I often sense God, but I had never thought of beauty being part of my search for God and one of the arrows that point me to new ways deeper into God. Although I dabble on a few instruments, there are times I feel lost in my music and feel free in God.  As a child, sometimes Mom would "punish" me by making me sit at the piano and play because she knew whatever was bothering me would be expelled through making music. It still works that way for me - very soothing, calming and ... now I have words to explain it: it points me back to God like a homing device.

p. 106 The object of all great art is beauty, and it makes us nostalgic for God. 

I agree. I'd never thought of being nostalgic for God; but somewhere deep inside where God lives and breathes within me, (Romans 8.11) I become nostalgic and hungry to know that fuller unity with Him once again. The prayer of silence reminds me my Lord is there - living and breathing inside of me.  I hadn't connected that beauty often feels the same - a combination of knowing and yearning and wanting to fall into God's outstretched arms of Love with no shame, guilt or embarrassment - but with abandonment.

p.  106  People living in the post modern world, however, are faced with an excruciating dilemma.  Their hearts long to find ultimate meaning, while at the same time their critical minds do not believe it exists. We are homesick, but have no  home. So we turn to the arts and aesthetics to satisfy our thirst for the Absolute. But if we want to find our true meaning in life, our search cannot end there.  Art or beauty is not the destination; it is a signpost pointing towards our desired destination. 

There have been times when I've been homesick; but even in the midst of family and loved ones, my logic said I was responding bizarrely.  But the Bible says He sticks closer than a brother (Proverbs 18:24); and when I lose that sense of unity with God, maybe that is the times when I feel lonely instead of the peace of solitude.

p. 109  The imagination.... was the source of all kinds of evil ideas and impulses.  And, to some degree, that is true. The depraved imagination has the capacity to dream up all sorts of dreadful things.... We did not recognize that the redeemed imagination was capable of producing works of beauty that revealed the Glory. 

Wow.


p. 110  All beauty is subversive; it flies under the radar of people's critical filters and points them to God. .......  Art, music, dance, theater, literature, film.  ..... They're spiritual languages that communicate truths about God that human language doesn't have words to express. That's why the church needs to rediscover them. 

Wow again! 


PEACE

p. 131  What would it look like for Christians to train themselves to be peacemakers with the same rigor and discipline that soldiers train for war? 

As I look back over my 37 years of calling myself a Christian, many of the times I've wanted to be a peacemaker were times when I wanted to prove myself right to the point the other person would chose to believe like I did so there would be no discord and peace would be the result. Pompous, egotistical and rude behavior on my part; but it was the only way I knew. I'm glad I've learned to listen to other people's story with respect and maybe ask a few questions to clarify what I think I'm hearing. I'm still learning to listen quietly without formulating a reply or trying to manipulate or interrupt; but at least I'm finally recognizing that is a weak area that I need to strengthen. I'm learning to tell my story without adding too many hooks trying to get people into doing things my way spiritually. That doesn't mean I'm not still struggling with making healthy boundaries so the love can poor through and my dysfunction and co-dependent areas stay in my own space. How did I learn to listen without judging or jumping to conclusions?  Because the people of my parish treated me with that type of respect and dignity - which helped me listen to their story; then we could enjoy the common grounds and build from that foundation.

p. 133  If we want to be peacemakers, we have to confront the wounds and darkness in our own hearts first--otherwise we will always be blaming others for our problems instead of looking at ourselves. ...  You are always your biggest problem.

It took several years of 12-step work and counseling to recognize I'm my biggest liability and my biggest asset.  Some people can go through things that make my life look like a kindergarten picnic and they have peace and joy and open connectedness - very humble people.  Other people can have a small set back and be devastated for decades. I'm a mixture of both; depending on how I interpret the magnitude of the injury. But it's my response to what happened, much more than what happened, that determines how quickly I pop back to peace and joy that permeate my heart and life. It is good to know that because I can't change the other person, but I (with God's help) can change my response to an offense.

p. 136  I realized that I've confused being a peace lover with being a peacemaker.  A peace lover is someone who enjoys the absence of conflict, but a peacemaker is someone who is proactively engaged in works of reconciliation in every sphere of life, from the personal to the global.

Ouch. That stepped on my toes. I'm blessed that I could view my lay ministry as a style of personal peacemaking.

p. 137  Francis, your genius was that you read stuff in the Bible (like the Sermon on the Mount) and you didn't spiritualize or theologize it. You heard Jesus say, "Happy are the peacemakers,"  so you got up every day and embarked on a new peace mission.  My usual approach is to read the Bible, try to understand what it's saying, and then apply it.  Your formula was the reverse.  You applied the Bible and then came to a fresh understanding of what it actually meant. What a concept. 

Very interesting. I'm one of those "I can't apply it until I understand it."  But this paragraph speaks to me of using analysis as a way to procrastinate; and quick acceptance (without understanding) as a way to enjoy more simplicity. A 12-step slogan that goes with it "the paralysis of analysis."  This is all typed by a woman who has been procrastinating for several years on writing a book... I was grateful to read this and accept it as a way to tweak my life so I can enjoy the blessings of following Jesus without the anchor of analysis keeping me chained down.


PREACHING 

p. 147  He avoided preaching doctrines and dogma, because he believed conversion happened more on the plane of experience than reason. 

I agree. It makes sense:  how can I expect my mind to grasp spiritual things; yet my mind is imperative to help carry out the things the heart easily grasps, understands and longs for.  Putting words into the mouth of Paul in 1 Cor 13 -  maybe seeing in the mirror darkly is when I try to grasp with my mind or have my mind try to instruct my spirit; but seeing face to face is when I look first with my spirit and let my spirit teach my mind. That's just off the cuff and a new thought - I may revisit it later... and maybe not.

p. 147  Shalom (Hebrew word that is often translated into peace in English) is a deep harmony with the universe.  When sin entered the world, it ruptured the friendship we'd once had with God, with other people, with ourselves, with our bodies, and with the environment.  Our spiritual, social, psychological, physical and ecological relationships were fractured. Francis preached a gospel that was holistic.  He wanted his hearers to have all those torn dimensions of their lives repaired. Conversion was about being reconciled and restored in every aspect of life. For Francis, that could only happen through the blood of Jesus, living by the words of Scripture and conforming our lives to the gospel. 
I like that. I know that Christ came not only for "fire insurance" but for abundant life... whole life... unified life. Just as the Trinity is in perfect unity - it sets an example of the unity available to my own fractured life.

p.  148  He was so animated that people called him the living tongue.  Instead of the gloomy preaching that prevailed in those days, Francis's sermons were hilarious.  Best of all, he commanded the friars to keep their sermons brief because the Lord himself kept his words short on earth. 

For the sake of length, I didn't type the paragraphs of the fun examples he used that would have been shocking to many. But I can see how his short sermons with great visuals would have had sticking power that people could have carried home and chewed until it digested into a changed life.  Most of Jesus' sermons were like that. One of the first ones I think of is "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men..."  What a catch-all to say that to professional fishermen. I'm sure that would have got their mind going until they were compelled to follow to see what it was about.

p. 149  Francis was more than an entertaining street preacher.  he didn't want to win people to faith through theological arguments or by reasoning with them.  His way of evangelizing people was through the example of his own life.  That's what gave his simple words so much gravity and impact. His life was his theology. He once said, "It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching."  He also said, "Preach the gospel at all times and when necessary use words."  

I'd like that to happen in my life. To have people see my actions and behavior and recognize Christ in me to the point it made a change in their life.  As I reflect on my Christian walk, there have been times I've had an "Aha!" moment during a sermon when something came to me in a real way that changed my life; there has been a few times when I had an epiphany during a conversation with somebody I was talking to.  But there have been two or three people who's consistent life of joy and holiness showed Christ in them and gave me hope and that hope turned my life around. Unsung heroes - which is how people who are humble enough to be used in that way would prefer it. Yet, there have been more times when I've seen God in nature and felt Him stir within me and walked away a changed woman.


p. 154  I grew up in a faith that was highly individualistic. We talked about personal -- personal evangelism, personal relationship with Christ, personal devotions, etc.  We enjoyed "fellowship," but we never talked much abou the power of community and how it could change individual lives and the world. This idea of the church being an "as if" people who live together like the kingdom were "already here in its fullness" is inspiring to me. 

Wow.  Over the past year or so, I have become interested in studying communal living, not as a religious order, but as secular, or non-ordained people who love God and want to live like the Christians in Acts. I have enjoyed the teachings of Shane Claiborne and other young people who are living that type of life.  As I begin my journey to understand Franciscan spirituality; I think if he was alive today, he would have joined them, lead them or at least cheered them on.

__________________

I feel rather silly tracking my daily office publicly. It's not to brag of my desire to do this or self-pity at my meager successes of getting them all done - and we won't even think about the times I'm inattentive or begrudging as I do it. But I chose to do this publicly to give myself the accountability I need until the prayers are ingrained into my daily life and I look forward to them and doing them feels natural, joyful and participatory. The inner attitude may eventually become part of the accountability - but right now, I'm just working on showing up for the office.

Since I worked today and is work too far away to run home for lunch, I did all except the noon prayer. Since I slept a lot yesterday, I woke up at 5:30 and spent some time with God, then got up and did the office and had leisure to enjoy my morning. I decided to discipline myself to get to bed earlier so I have time to go about my morning routine unrushed and relaxed. Thus, I may decide to be accountable on this blog as I incorporate this new skill into my schedule.

Restful Sunday

Today was a restful Sunday.  I went to breakfast Bible study and liturgy; I didn't stay for lunch or a meeting I was to attend.  I didn't even dress up for the first time in 5 years but wore jeans and a denim shirt.  I came home and had a light lunch and fell asleep in my recliner and woke up at 5:30.  No lectio divina tonight, so I caught up on e-mails and talked online to two friends.

I did all the divine office except for the morning prayer. I especially like the prayers set to music as I find it easier to focus and not let my mind stray. But I've found that in my own private time - to sing my Bible reading and prayers. it seems to keep the compulsive thinking portion of my mind busy so the words are assimilated into my heart --- nah, that's enough, not going to analyze it. It just seems to work better for me.

Now it's 10 pm and Im ready for more sleep. I've only required about 5-6 hours of sleep a night for several years, so this recent 8 or 9 hours of sleep and a long nap seem really strange. I pray it is healing sleep and will refresh and heal my body especially but rest and heal all areas of my life.

Part of me says what a wasted day that I wasn't productive. But at this stage of life, sometimes rest is productive and I am grateful for a quiet, restful, sleepy day. I felt loved and snuggled by Father God.  Maybe this is what the Torah meant by making the Sabbath a day of rest.  Since I'm single so ineligible for a double mitzvah, I can be blessed with a double rest instead!  ;-)  I guess I have a weird sense of humour....