from matt in fiji

my dear friend and brother, matthew, sent me an email on july 20 from fiji's capital city. he is working/living/minsitering with an organization committed to Christian based community, a missional approach to living, simplicity, spiritual formation, and education through experience and adventure. in his email he wrote, 'the pictures of Christ here are so visceral and tangible.'
which is of course to say that he is daily encountering very raw and real and fleshy examples of what it means to be like Jesus -- he is doing theology as it is meant to be done, by living it out, by entering into the stories of others and so entering into The Story (Kingdom/Life) of God.
perhaps we could learn a thing or two from matt -- for i'd wager that if we'd open our eyes wide enough (whether we're on an edenesque fijian island or standing in line at wal-mart) we too would realize that we have the opportunity to touch and be touched by Jesus everyday in a very visceral way.

dancing really

'Heavenly Father - Thy whole creation, sun, moon, and stars, and this blessed earth which thou hast made with thy hands in all its beauty, and every creature of this earth whom thou has given life, all of them shout forth in joy and praise of thee save only man whose mouth is stopped with words. Forgive us what we speak and what we know not how to speak. Forgive our world, we pray thee, thy world, which thou hast left us free to grieve and break. Make thyself known to all who are broken in spirit or in flesh, and that is all of us. Grant us thy peace, Lord, which the world can neither give nor take away, they peace that exists only in the eye of the storm, the heart of the battle. Grant us finally they joy of the man on the cross. We ask it in his name. Amen.' (f.buechner)

I spent the week noticing the hand-crafted beauty that manages to out-speak, out-pray, and out-worship us. Spent it with a collection of 14 middle class white kids, leading them - along side of two fine fellow wilderness savvy guides - through adventures of all sorts. Dancing really. Dancing with cliffs, rocks, river, rain, mountain, cave, falls, and fire. Dancing with the Bible, dancing with relationships, dancing with questions of faith and questions of fact. And it was a good dance. I stepped on toes no doubt. I'm foot-sore now. But still enjoying the music and the memories of the motion.

The cave is miraculous. It's a different world in there; you forget that this other one even exists, and it's awesome. I wrote in my journal about something I saw in the cave...
'There was a loose rock very evidently and intentionally placed by the creative sparkle of God's attention to the slightest detail and wonder. It was loose as I said, but had obviously rested on that ledge for some time, according the shallow divet made by persistant water droplets. Its looseness allowed it to be moved easily, and moved it was, rather carelessly, though not vindictively, by one who passed by. And that small miracle ceased as a result. Placed with a casual indifference where the water drops would strike it no longer and the divet would be made no deeper. It made me think of the delicate miracles I pass by during the days of my life - the ones I notice, like the fragility and beauty of a young lady's heart, the power and importance of family, the tender and nourishing richness of the created and natural works of God, friendship, and opportunities to love and be loved. It made me think of how much more I long to treat these delicacies as such, to cherish the ones I recognize all the more, and to realize the ones I miss.'

boyhood

I'm in PA - I'll be working at Summer's Best Two Weeks (www.sb2w.org) for the next month, guiding wilderness adventure trips and ministering along side of a quality group of men and women. Arrived on Monday (11th) and was on a bus en route to our rock climbing destination with a group of 15 boys early the next morning. I love the raw energy of boyhood. I spend the day watching (and joining) boys of all ages as they climbed cliffs, scrambled on rocks, pushed over trees, captured and cooked craw fish, slid off a waterfall into a cool pool of fresh water - as they devoured hot dogs, toasted wet shoes over the fire, and as they couldn't possibly refrain from playing with flaming sticks. Theirs was a refreshing presence to be in. One of the other counselors asked me to tell the boys about how I met Jesus - I ended up telling them what I have found the way of Jesus to be like since I met him. I told them that I think, if we listen quietly - quietly enough to hear the music of the rain or the sound of a baby sleeping - then we'll probably hear, each morning when we wake up and our hearts are the most vulnerable, the Spirit of Jesus whispering something about an adventure, something of an invitation; and maybe we should start asking if we can be a part, or just start being -- 'enjoy being' as the bumper sticker on the small pink car on Central Avenue in Indianapolis says. The raw energy of boyhood, that's what it is - it's being, and enjoying it. We could all learn a bit from such childlike enthusiasm.

thots to ponder

"Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish in the mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God and not in God himself." -- miguel de unamuno

"We have been content for too long to netiher believe nor disbelieve but to accept God as a comfortable old habit rather than a burning passion." -- thomas yorty

"God is always bigger than the boxes we build for God. So we should not waste too much time protecting the boxes." -- richard rohr

a conversation i didn't have

I'm reading 'The Last and the Word After That' by Brian McLaren. It's sort of about hell and how hell has been perceived in Western Protestant circles for the past few hundred years and how some of those perceptions might not be all right. But more than that it is about the process of becoming and growing in the presence and accountability of community as guided by the Spirit of God and divinely-placed friendships.
It's format is a quasi-narrated collection of hypothetical and imagined dialogues, so, in keeping with that here's one I didn't have...

'I don't really approve of all the ideas in this book, I don't like where they lead. That is, to the denial of the truth (unfotunate truth though it may be) of hell.'

"Why are you so reluctant to let go of hell?"

'Why are you so frivolous as to deny hell?'

"I think that's an unfair question. Perhaps I should rephrase myself; perhaps 'let go of' is not the best termonology. If I am frivolous it is in being willing to rethink hell, not by denying it."

'Well I think that is dangerous still, my question stands: Why bother rethinking something so rooted in tradition and scripture?'

"Alright, if I try to honestly answer your question will you try to honestly answer mine?"

'Deal.'

"I'm willing to rethink hell because the way it has traditionally been understood doesn't settle right."

'You mean it doesn't feel right - that's kind of shallow don't you think?'

"No, I mean it doesn't settle right. I'm not talking about finding a soft substitute for hell that feels good. I'm talking about at least looking for an understanding that setlles with our belief that God is good, just and loving."

'But if God is just then hell is fine, cause we all deserve it from the get go.'

"Granted. Maybe. But let me finish first. Then see what you think."

'Sure.'

"Thanks. I grew up understanding the point of Christianity to be believing in Jesus (which meant saying the right prayer and being good according to a certain list of goods and bads) so that I could go to heaven (and avoid going to hell - though nobody ever said much about that). This worked fine for me because all the people I really loved and cared about had said the same prayer and at least tried to abide by the same list. But then one time I asked my dad to autograph my Bible, because he is one of my heroes. He signed it and wrote 'John 10:10' under his name. It didn't do much for me then, probably because I didn't know anything but 'life to the full'. Still, it was there and the idea began to seep into my soul - and eventually caught me off-gaurd. The idea that the whole thing Jesus represented (which has most often been labeled, for better or worse, 'Christianity') was (is) something more than avoiding eternal suffering in hell. The idea that hell isn't the point, and nether is heaven for that matter. The point is to be for what God is for (which is, I think, the Kingdom of God - we should talk about that another time, it's hugely important) and to be against what God is against (things like sin and selfish arrogance and indifference and hate). So the grace that is so central to the gospel is not about a free ticket to heaven so much as it is about a free makeover - transformation. It is not so much a moment of grace (not to say that there aren't moments of grace) as it is a process of grace, a process of grace-full transformation - a process of becoming a person who identifies with Jesus in being (actively/courageously) for what God is for and against what God is against. I think that some of the things God is against are exclusion and suffering; these are parts of the Story (very real parts) that don't make God smile. So I wonder if we've gon wrong somewhere in our understanding and usage of hell, just as I was wrong in my undertanding and usage of Christianity (thinking it was about me and my eternal destiny rather than about God and God's all encompassing Kingdom - perhaps we should talk sometime about eternal destiny vs. eternal identity). I wonder if, maybe, God is interested in something more than what we've made this whole thing out to be. So, where in lies your reluctance?"

(then I think the phone rang or the cat knocked over a glass of orange juice on the kitchen table so the conversation was never finished. but, really, is it ever?)

pk's comment

Paul commented on 'Romance...' --- "For some reason, this is the line that really stuck out to me: 'For those who believe in God it is all the purity and wonder of God's grace. And for those who don't I'm not sure that it's anything less than that anyway.' Any thoughts on why that might have stuck out to me? "

one thot: it might have something to do with the fact that you would get along well with julie (a delightful lady we met together who, if one were to use labels, could be labeled as conservative) AND you would get along well with her sister (who we were told was a bit more on the liberal side, or rather on the other side of the liberal side) - the fact that you realize the value of patiently living the gospel into people's lives, rather than force feeding it to them, and living the gospel into people's lives requires a certain (or uncertain) patience, an understanding that some people will call grace by Its name and others will not, not yet - you recognize the harm done by approaching the gospel as an item to sell and therefore approaching your neighbor as a consumer rather than as your neighbor. Sure the gospel ought to stir in us a sense of urgency - but it is not the urgency of a salesman trying to force his merchandise, it is the urgency of a gardener watering her budding flowers, patiently desiring their scent and awaiting their beauty. It is the urgency of Romance.