I don't make new year's resolutions any longer. Rather, I celebrate the anniversary of and recommit myself to resolutions of yesteryear each January. Changing the patterns and behaviors that my resolutions require is a difficult task. I have often heard the phrase, 'Change is tough.' I believe, however, that for most of us change is simply undesirable. Once desired, it comes more easily. Case in point, if I desired change, then my new year's resolutions would become obsolete. After all, how many of us make grandiose resolutions during the month of January only to jettison them by early March?
Initially all change requires desire. We must want, long, and yearn for change before we will commit our lives to a new way of living. There is, however, another component of change: trust. We must trust in the change or the expected outcome of the change before we will desire change. This is particularly important when considering deep change. When I say deep I mean the type of change that alters how we perceive and live in and relate to the world. This level of deep change goes beyond the surface changes we make daily (soap choice, soda choice, etc.) to change in habits that are ingrained into our way of thinking and behaving.
Consider the pitcher who has been working at his/her discipline for years, perhaps decades. Much of the mechanics are ingrained into their way of thought and behavior. They truly do not think about their arm or ball position, leg kick, foot work, etc. They simply do what they have always done. One day, however, a new coach shows up and casts a vision for a better outcome if they make certain changes. The coach tells them the ball will have more 'pop,' 'zip,' or 'better location,' if they simply make a few changes to their mechanics (habits). In order for the pitcher to commit to this change, he/she must both desire and trust! They must desire the outcome or they will never commit to change. They must also trust the coach and his/her ability to aid them in their quest for change or they will never fully commit to the new habits and lifestyle necessary to complete the change. Deep change requires desire plus trust.
Why trust? Why desire? Because the change proposed will strike at the core of both intuition and habituation formed in the previous years or decades of their baseball experience. Indeed, everything they know will need to change. This change will happen as a result of repeated and consist practice of the newly required habit/discipline.
The same is true for us in life. Much of our current behavior is a product of decades of habit formation (either positive or negative) designed to produce such behavior. In fact, the successful change products in modern commerce are those that effectively aid us in habit formation or reformation (e.g., diet and exercise programs). Indeed, we have not tried change and quit simply because we found it difficult. We have tried change and quit because we lacked the adequate desire and trust required to rehabituate and reform years of ingrained behavior patterns that come naturally to us today.
Perhaps this is why the message of Christ and His Kingdom is so undesirable to many today (I am speaking particularly to Christians here). When Christ introduced his message he made profound statements. For example, in Mark chapter 1 Christ tells us that we must 'change our hearts and lives and trust this good news.' His words are telling. Change of our hearts and lives (deep change) comes as we trust in the change agent and His ability to aid the change required. The seed bed of desire is the soil of trust.
These words of our Lord cause me pause. They force reflection before decision. As I consider these words, I ask myself the following questions: what do I desire? and in whom do I trust? Perhaps our lack of deep change is shaped by false desire and grounded in misplaced to trust. Words worth receiving before I finalize my plans for change in 2012.
Change . . . trust . . . desire.
the shape of desire!
Biz
Monday, January 23, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
found and found
Being found brings a sense of euphoria!
We were visiting Disneyland (California) and I was, let's say, about 10. We were there, I believe, because I was convinced that the 6 million dollar man was real and that my father's strength paled in comparsion. After enough conversations with my dad around this idea of mine he decided to plan a family trip. The trip, though fun, had a purpose: to prove that the 6 million dollar man was not a man of six million dollar strength.
It was a great trip. I got to cross the 'red sea' as it parted before my very eyes. I survived a shark attack by none less than JAWS himself. Yes, I even got to pick up and throw one of those huge boulders the 6 million dollar man so easily launched during each episode. Oh yes, I also experienced the plane crash of Airplane and came out unscathed. Boy hood illusions shattered reality now the vision to come.
Of the wonderful memories of that family trip, there is one that I remember more vividly than all the rest. The memory of the time I got lost. To this day I do not know how I got lost (that's usually how getting lost begins), nor what steps I took to contribute to my own 'lostness' (though I am sure there were many).
At any rate, one moment I am standing beside my entire family and the next I am awash in a sea of humanity - none of whom I recognized and all of whom I feared. Yes, feared. Not only was I lost, but I was lost in California. Part of the problem was that I had spent my first 10 years of life in a small town called Hartsville in the small state of South Carolina. Whenever anyone mentioned California, New York or Utah (go figure) there was always a long pause. It was the type of pause full of meaning. You know, the one where everyone is silent and knows that all should pray often for those or that just mentioned? This was my idea of California . . . a long pause in great need of prayer and I was doing both at the time. Here I am a lost boy in a sea of people walking nowhere fast looking for one person in particular: my dad! I wanted to be found; not lost. I yearned to be found. I longed to be found. All my energy was pouring into my only desire at that moment: to be FOUND!
My thoughts wandered to places unkind. What would become of me? Where would I live? Why did they leave me? Where should I go? Boy that hot dogs looks good (okay, I lean a tad toward the a.d.d. side of life). Just when I thought my situation was hopeless - when I knew I could not get myself out of my own 'lostness' - I felt the warm weight of a loving hand press gently on my shoulder. Before I looked up I heard, 'son, here you are.'
That was it. That was all I needed to hear.
I was found by the only one capable of truly finding me. And, though I was found by him, the first words out of my mouth were, 'daddy, I found you.' He didn't bother to argue or correct my blatant misrepresentation of the facts. He just held me close and carried me to my family - my home. He allowed me to be 'found and found'.
In the Gospel of John Phillip has a similar story. If you check out John chapter one you will see that Jesus was looking for followers. The text clearly highlights the fact that Jesus found Phillip and called him to himself. It is a great moment for Phillip and one is easily caught up in his story. Quickly Phillip found Nathaniel. He told Nathaniel to come and meet this Jesus - the one that he (Phillip) had found. Huh? Did Phillip get that wrong?
Yes . . . no . . . err . . .
Phillip does not appear to be on the lookout for Jesus. In fact, quite the opposite. He is living his life minding His business - he didn't realize he was lost. But, when Jesus finds Him it (in Phillip's mind) as if Phillip finds Jesus too. Jesus might have corrected him, but that wasn't his style. No, he simply allowed that Phillip was 'found and found.' What a savior, what story. I am His. Yes, He found me . . . I found him too. So, yes; I was was lost but now I am found. In fact, I am 'found and found.'
Desiring Home!
Biz
We were visiting Disneyland (California) and I was, let's say, about 10. We were there, I believe, because I was convinced that the 6 million dollar man was real and that my father's strength paled in comparsion. After enough conversations with my dad around this idea of mine he decided to plan a family trip. The trip, though fun, had a purpose: to prove that the 6 million dollar man was not a man of six million dollar strength.
It was a great trip. I got to cross the 'red sea' as it parted before my very eyes. I survived a shark attack by none less than JAWS himself. Yes, I even got to pick up and throw one of those huge boulders the 6 million dollar man so easily launched during each episode. Oh yes, I also experienced the plane crash of Airplane and came out unscathed. Boy hood illusions shattered reality now the vision to come.
Of the wonderful memories of that family trip, there is one that I remember more vividly than all the rest. The memory of the time I got lost. To this day I do not know how I got lost (that's usually how getting lost begins), nor what steps I took to contribute to my own 'lostness' (though I am sure there were many).
At any rate, one moment I am standing beside my entire family and the next I am awash in a sea of humanity - none of whom I recognized and all of whom I feared. Yes, feared. Not only was I lost, but I was lost in California. Part of the problem was that I had spent my first 10 years of life in a small town called Hartsville in the small state of South Carolina. Whenever anyone mentioned California, New York or Utah (go figure) there was always a long pause. It was the type of pause full of meaning. You know, the one where everyone is silent and knows that all should pray often for those or that just mentioned? This was my idea of California . . . a long pause in great need of prayer and I was doing both at the time. Here I am a lost boy in a sea of people walking nowhere fast looking for one person in particular: my dad! I wanted to be found; not lost. I yearned to be found. I longed to be found. All my energy was pouring into my only desire at that moment: to be FOUND!
My thoughts wandered to places unkind. What would become of me? Where would I live? Why did they leave me? Where should I go? Boy that hot dogs looks good (okay, I lean a tad toward the a.d.d. side of life). Just when I thought my situation was hopeless - when I knew I could not get myself out of my own 'lostness' - I felt the warm weight of a loving hand press gently on my shoulder. Before I looked up I heard, 'son, here you are.'
That was it. That was all I needed to hear.
I was found by the only one capable of truly finding me. And, though I was found by him, the first words out of my mouth were, 'daddy, I found you.' He didn't bother to argue or correct my blatant misrepresentation of the facts. He just held me close and carried me to my family - my home. He allowed me to be 'found and found'.
In the Gospel of John Phillip has a similar story. If you check out John chapter one you will see that Jesus was looking for followers. The text clearly highlights the fact that Jesus found Phillip and called him to himself. It is a great moment for Phillip and one is easily caught up in his story. Quickly Phillip found Nathaniel. He told Nathaniel to come and meet this Jesus - the one that he (Phillip) had found. Huh? Did Phillip get that wrong?
Yes . . . no . . . err . . .
Phillip does not appear to be on the lookout for Jesus. In fact, quite the opposite. He is living his life minding His business - he didn't realize he was lost. But, when Jesus finds Him it (in Phillip's mind) as if Phillip finds Jesus too. Jesus might have corrected him, but that wasn't his style. No, he simply allowed that Phillip was 'found and found.' What a savior, what story. I am His. Yes, He found me . . . I found him too. So, yes; I was was lost but now I am found. In fact, I am 'found and found.'
Desiring Home!
Biz
Friday, January 13, 2012
to listen
His fame spread quickly across the land. He was certainly someone to behold! His message was fresh. He spoke of God's Kingdom. Every disease encountered he healed. He asked men to follow Him and they did, leaving everything and everyone behind. Jesus attracted the crowd. Yes, he attracted the crowd, but he called the disciple.
The difference between the crowd and the disciple is starkly portrayed in the Gospels. In Luke 5 we behold his disciples drawing near so that they can listen ~ they desire to hear him speak. I think this is a distinguishing characteristic of a disciple. A disciple sits and listens. A disciple waits for instruction, guidance and encouragement. A disciple responds to the voice of his/her teacher.
My goal for 2012 is to become a listening disciple of Christ. I long to be one who sits in silence and listens to my Lord. I long to hear him speak to me! Listening to the Lord has always been a part of the community of faith. Only in recent decades have we become more apt to speak and less apt to listen. There are several reasons for this, but the primary reason is that speaking implies control. Speaking implies direction and guidance. Listening implies (requires really) surrender. The former we know, the latter we fear.
Therefore, one of my commitments in 2012 is to practice the ancient discipline of Silence and Solitude on a regular basis. I choose to turn off the noise and to silence the distractions long enough to hear Christ speak! I long to hear him and to walk with him on a daily basis.
What about you? Join me in 2012. Let's spend a Year with Our Lord. Let's spend it 'listening.'
Grace and Peace!
Biz
The difference between the crowd and the disciple is starkly portrayed in the Gospels. In Luke 5 we behold his disciples drawing near so that they can listen ~ they desire to hear him speak. I think this is a distinguishing characteristic of a disciple. A disciple sits and listens. A disciple waits for instruction, guidance and encouragement. A disciple responds to the voice of his/her teacher.
My goal for 2012 is to become a listening disciple of Christ. I long to be one who sits in silence and listens to my Lord. I long to hear him speak to me! Listening to the Lord has always been a part of the community of faith. Only in recent decades have we become more apt to speak and less apt to listen. There are several reasons for this, but the primary reason is that speaking implies control. Speaking implies direction and guidance. Listening implies (requires really) surrender. The former we know, the latter we fear.
Therefore, one of my commitments in 2012 is to practice the ancient discipline of Silence and Solitude on a regular basis. I choose to turn off the noise and to silence the distractions long enough to hear Christ speak! I long to hear him and to walk with him on a daily basis.
What about you? Join me in 2012. Let's spend a Year with Our Lord. Let's spend it 'listening.'
Grace and Peace!
Biz
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Why Would I Go Back to Church?
I just received an invitation to church. Actually, an invitation 'back to church.' It came in the mail. It's nice. The people on the card appear to be people I would enjoy joining on a Sunday morning (they are, after all, smiling).
Funny thing, though ~ I haven't left the church.
Many, however, have and this card stirred my thoughts of them. Surely some of them got the invitation as well. I wonder if it bothers them that they got invited back to church by a postcard rather than a neighbor who cares deeply about them?
Perhaps it hurts. Perhaps it annoys. Perhaps the nice card caught their attention. Perhaps they explored the card; wondering if the church was worthy of their attendance, their return.
Would I go 'back to church' based on this card and the invitation it extended?
Hmmm . . .
They offer upbeat music and relevance (and, of course, refreshments). Sound like a 'Friday Down Town' to me or a Saturday at the park . . . This, of course may be good. It may be just what the doctor ordered.
I suspect the church must provide more. I suspect the church must provide these 'exiles' with a sense of God's Immanence and Transcendence. A sense of the 'awe' and 'majesty' associated with God (Transcendence). And a sense of celebration, love and thankfulness associated with God; who clothed Himself in Humanity so that we might rightly relate to Him (Immanence).
This mysterious combination reveals rightly what and who we are: A people gathered to humbly celebrate the powerful presence of the One who has done for us that which we are unable (and oftentimes unwilling) to do for ourselves.
I think I may go back to church this week. After all, they went to all the trouble of calling me 'neighbor.'
Celebrating His Presence!
Biz
Funny thing, though ~ I haven't left the church.
Many, however, have and this card stirred my thoughts of them. Surely some of them got the invitation as well. I wonder if it bothers them that they got invited back to church by a postcard rather than a neighbor who cares deeply about them?
Perhaps it hurts. Perhaps it annoys. Perhaps the nice card caught their attention. Perhaps they explored the card; wondering if the church was worthy of their attendance, their return.
Would I go 'back to church' based on this card and the invitation it extended?
Hmmm . . .
They offer upbeat music and relevance (and, of course, refreshments). Sound like a 'Friday Down Town' to me or a Saturday at the park . . . This, of course may be good. It may be just what the doctor ordered.
I suspect the church must provide more. I suspect the church must provide these 'exiles' with a sense of God's Immanence and Transcendence. A sense of the 'awe' and 'majesty' associated with God (Transcendence). And a sense of celebration, love and thankfulness associated with God; who clothed Himself in Humanity so that we might rightly relate to Him (Immanence).
This mysterious combination reveals rightly what and who we are: A people gathered to humbly celebrate the powerful presence of the One who has done for us that which we are unable (and oftentimes unwilling) to do for ourselves.
I think I may go back to church this week. After all, they went to all the trouble of calling me 'neighbor.'
Celebrating His Presence!
Biz
Friday, January 6, 2012
imagio
Imagio Dei. If you have been around Christianity for any amount of time, then you should be familiar with this Greek phrase. Translated it reads 'Image of God' and is a foundational stone in Christian Theology. We understand this phrase to mean that we humans are created in the Imagio Dei ~ the Image of God. As such, our value is inherent. Simply because we exist (though there is no such thing as 'simple existence') we are declared valued, of worth, in His image . . . very good.
This truth is placed in stark contrast to our current ideologies to which we subscribe or the goals for which we strive. In both ideology and practice we are reminded of the subtle distortion of this truth which states, 'we are valued in accordance with function.' Or, 'we are valued in accordance with our utility or performance.' Or 'we are valued in accordance with our possession.' Each is a subtle distortion of truth. Yes, function, utility and possession have value. The question we must ask is 'how much and to what end?'
Perhaps this is the right focus for this year's Lenten season. Before you throw yourself into just 'giving something up' for Lent, consider first what you are pursuing. Consider what you love. Once you identify these things do you recognize their formative power in your life? In other words, in what ways (or toward what ends) have they shaped you? Have these loves and pursuits formed you toward Christ and His Kingdom? Or have they shaped you away from Christ and His Kingdom? Perhaps they have shaped you into a lover of self, possessions, pride, position, etc.?!
Thomas Merton, a 20th century Trappist Monk, has written, "Your life is shaped by what you live for. You are made in the image of what you desire." This would make us "Imagio Eros" ~ the Image of Desire. His words ring true in my ears. In fact, they fit well with some of Christ's most stirring words. He never pulled any punches when it came to the order of our loves. He was intent on communicating the truth that we must love God first, 'with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.' Christ sought to shape our desire toward Him and His Kingdom. Then and only then do we fully reflect Him and fully live into the hope we have in the "Imagio Dei".
Perhaps Lent might become an assessment of our desire. When a false desire is identified, replace it with a true desire. The desire that is truest of all of us ~ To Love God First.
what is the shape of your desire?
Biz
This truth is placed in stark contrast to our current ideologies to which we subscribe or the goals for which we strive. In both ideology and practice we are reminded of the subtle distortion of this truth which states, 'we are valued in accordance with function.' Or, 'we are valued in accordance with our utility or performance.' Or 'we are valued in accordance with our possession.' Each is a subtle distortion of truth. Yes, function, utility and possession have value. The question we must ask is 'how much and to what end?'
Perhaps this is the right focus for this year's Lenten season. Before you throw yourself into just 'giving something up' for Lent, consider first what you are pursuing. Consider what you love. Once you identify these things do you recognize their formative power in your life? In other words, in what ways (or toward what ends) have they shaped you? Have these loves and pursuits formed you toward Christ and His Kingdom? Or have they shaped you away from Christ and His Kingdom? Perhaps they have shaped you into a lover of self, possessions, pride, position, etc.?!
Thomas Merton, a 20th century Trappist Monk, has written, "Your life is shaped by what you live for. You are made in the image of what you desire." This would make us "Imagio Eros" ~ the Image of Desire. His words ring true in my ears. In fact, they fit well with some of Christ's most stirring words. He never pulled any punches when it came to the order of our loves. He was intent on communicating the truth that we must love God first, 'with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.' Christ sought to shape our desire toward Him and His Kingdom. Then and only then do we fully reflect Him and fully live into the hope we have in the "Imagio Dei".
Perhaps Lent might become an assessment of our desire. When a false desire is identified, replace it with a true desire. The desire that is truest of all of us ~ To Love God First.
what is the shape of your desire?
Biz
“Thou
hast made us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.”
-
St. Augustine
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