Coming back . . . again

Vacation, new job, family stuff, other writing projects, yada, yada, yada . . . no more lines wasted on the nearly 8 week hole between posts.

A rare day off for both Julie and me has me a bit paralyzed by the abundant opportunities that the day has provided. Of course, the more time I stay paralyzed the less of a day there is left to be off. Oh well. I have been thinking a lot recently about rhythm, the way that space interrupts action, noise pierces silence. Rhythm is what soothes us, drives us, puts us in a groove. I love it when I am in the rhythm.

Conversely, I have found nothing more frustrating, more irritating, than being out of the rhythm. You white folks know what I am talking about. In my life, it is remarkable what seemingly insignificant things can throw off my rhythm: a sick child, a nasty comment, caffeine, a negative thought, an ill-advised nap, a poor choice on how to spend some free time.

I wonder if these little blips are so disruptive because I am not very intentional on developing a rhythm in my life. It seems true that rhythm becomes easier and easier to keep the longer you are in it. It slowly becomes part of your internal being, linking up with the cadence of your step, your breathing, your heartbeat. How I long for those times, so smooth and fluid that every action takes a little less effort. The rhythm compels you to move.

Starting a rhythm, however, is a whole other story. Some people need to make a choice to make some noise, to act. Others need to choose to silence the noise, to create space. I think holiness has a lot to do with when we choose to make noise and a when we chose to make space. And "church" has a lot to do with making these choices as an ensemble.

Whatever the case, it seems to me that starting the rhythm begins with listening, then responding. It is a conversation with the Holy Spirit that uses our whole body, mind and soul. It involves listening to my own noise and the rhythm that is already out there. It requires humility and submission, patience and grace. It defies independence, insisting on interdependence instead. It says, "You can march to the beat of a different drummer, but it's gonna be a real lonely parade."

I wonder if my rhythm problems are really listening problems, submission problems. Lord knows I have no problem making noise . . .

a quick thought on art and faith

Why we need art in the Church:

For all of art's value, its greatest value in community is that it can become a memory tool that expresses and codifies what we believe in a way that words & reason could never capture. Our faith experience must exceed words alone; it must be nuanced with color and shadow, punctuated with movement and rhythm, guided by line and melody.

It Runs Deep

I mowed the lawn this Saturday. In my household this is remarkable, because I hate yard work of any kind. This is a relatively new discovery for me because up until last summer, I have never really had a yard to work. Growing up, I was lucky enough to have a brother that actually liked mowing. And in the 9 years that followed my high school graduation I have never lived in a place that required me to maintain the property.

So when we bought our own house last year, we didn't even have a lawn mower. Luckily, the previous owner had two and threw one in with the house. We moved in February, so when spring rolled around I realized a couple of things. First, I didn't really have a lawn. What I had was vast a assortment of weeds with a couple patches of grass mixed in. Secondly, our idyllic dreams of lovingly tending the land and creating beautiful gardens and lush landscapes for family and neighbor alike to enjoy were crushed when I realized: a)it was hard, time consuming work that hurt my back and made me sweat, b)it was going to be very expensive to turn our weedfest into even a modest lawn, and c)our throw-in mower was a rusty old Snapper held together by duct tape and wire, with a broken powerdrive and a quirky motor that would die in any grass slightly longer than the fairways at your local golf course.

From then on yard work became a chore, and chores are mostly for avoiding. But this particular Saturday I worked up the gumption to go out and sweet talk the Snapper into a walk through the back yard. As I walked back and forth from my driveway to our neighbors, stopping every ten feet or so to give the motor a chance to catch its breath, I thought to myself, "If I had one of those really cool mowers, I would enjoy yard work so much more. Heck, I'd probably get that garden put in the front yard and lay that sod we have been talking about putting down."

It was subtle, but before I had put the Snapper back in the garage I realized what was going on. One of the signature idolatries of our culture had crept into my subconscious and surfaced in my self talk. The materialism that says if I had only this one thing I would be happy--or at least happier. If I had this tool I would really become a fixer-upper. If I had this toy I would stick with this hobby. If I buy this exercise bike or gym membership, I will finally have what I need to get in shape. If I had this SUV or minivan or time-share we would take vacations in which we could actually relax . . .

My friends know that I am first in line to talk about how Christians should live simply and reduce consumption and refuse to chase the "American Dream." Yet, here I am convincing myself that a new lawn mower will make me really happy about doing my chores.

Two weeks prior to this I found myself bristling when my neighbor (an amazingly thoughtful Christian guy) and I were talking about the imminent death of my Snapper. He suggested, "Don't buy a new one, just use mine. It's silly for both of us to own perfectly good lawn mowers." The pride in me just welled up as I thought "I am good enough to own my own lawn mower, I shouldn't need to borrow yours."

All of this has reminded me of how deep the way of the World runs in me and how prevalent it is in the way I think and feel. It made me repent and recognize my dependence on the Spirit. When I am not intent on Him, my fallen-ness shows up, slowly and subtly like the rising tide, until I look up and realize that instead of the Kingdom Way I am neck deep in idolatry and pride. And I never even saw it coming because I overestimated my own ability to discern the way of the World in my own life.

This Kingdom way, I am discovering, is more and more about slowly following the direction of the Holy Spirit, listening hard and trusting His guidance, and less and less about what I think I know and what claims of "truth" I can make. It is a humbling walk, like pushing a rusted out, duct-taped lawn mower back and forth from driveway to driveway . . . Maybe I can get a few more cuts out of the Snapper before I start borrowing my neighbors.

Tagged

A buddy of mine has "tagged" me (jerk) to make a book list answering the following questions. So, here it is . . . Maybe I will tag some folks, too. . . Mwah, ha, ha, ha!

1. One book that changed your life:
Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel

2. One book you've read more than once:
C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce

3. One book you'd want on a deserted island:
Dosteyvksy's The Brothers Karamozov

4. One book that made you laugh:
G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy

5. One book that made you cry (or feel really sad):
Jonothan Kozol's Amazing Grace

6. One book that you wish had been written:
Theodore Geisel's The Gospel According to Dr. Seuss

7. One book that you wish had never been written:
The Prayer of Jabez

8. One book you're currently reading:
Peter Scazzero's Emotionally Healthy Spirituality

9. One book you've been meaning to read:
Frost & Hirsch's The Shaping of Things to Come

And now, people whom I am about to tag (by the way, I chose these people because they are some of the most thoughtful and diverse people I know, people who love books, and people who I would pick up a book on their recommendation alone):

Jenn Swift

Michael Harrington

Shane Tucker

Brandy Campbell

Dave Ward