Resolutely unResolved!

These past months I have been considering the realities of Spiritual Formation and the impact of such on one's life.  Now as, the final minutes of this year slip away with each passing breath, I face a choice.  I must decide if my faith - this vital spiritual reality - will shape my resolutions for a new year (new ticks and breaths), or will my resolutions, yet again,  remain largely untouched and fully independent of my spiritual growth and transformation?!?

Historically speaking, my yearly 'resolve' has largely been developed independently of my faith.  That is not to say that I do not have a 'resolve' or two that is overtly spiritual.  Rather those, which are spiritual, do not serve as the thread that weaves each resolve into a tapestry of a life lived with God.  For instance, here are a few old annual 'resolves'  (truthfully I don't actually develop New Year Resolutions any longer - rather I celebrate the birthdays of those that have remain unfulfilled) to illustrate my point:

• I resolve to decrease debt.  
• I resolve to exercise more.  
• I resolve to read the Bible daily.  
• I resolve to go to church more frequently.  
• I resolve to quit biting my fingernails (this one, by the way, is celebrating its 23rd birthday this year - Happy Birthday, number 5).

Do you see what I mean?  These 'resolves' are largely independent of one another and highly autonomous.  They are just a 'list' - a check list if you will.  All check lists are independent.  An 'independent' check list masquerading as resolution gives us room to fail and still succeed.  We can 'check' a few and ignore the others.  We often create resolves in the form of a check list so that we can feel pretty good about ourselves even in the midst of failure.  This is what it means to be American.  Perhaps it is what it means to be human.

The check list mentality described above leaves me longing for more. This longing seeks to resist the urge to manage and direct my growth and embraces the urge to surrender and submit for my growth.  As such I have begun to consider a few deeper questions in relation to this year's resolution.

What if my faith - the spiritual journey and the desire for spiritual transformation - formed my resolve this year?

What if Spiritual transformation became my resolve?

What if Spiritual formation were the fabric upon which the resolve of my life were knit?

What if I gave my life over to the comprehensive and unending love and grace of God this year?

Such a 'giving over' might result in 'resolve' that looks more like a narrative of God's transformative power in my life and less like a check list of all the things I think I can accomplish on my own.

Such questions drive me back to one of my 'core realities for spiritual formation':  Spiritual Formation is God's work.

What is required of me in this work of Spiritual formation, however, is the willingness to be 'open to what He wants to do and how He wants to do it.'  It requires a 'resolve' to let go of the controls I have placed on my life and be vulnerable before God.  This is difficult and brings us into a position of 'discomfort' before God.  We don't do discomfort exceptionally well.  A glaring biblical example of discomfort before the Lord would be the whore that is publicly humiliated in front of the religious officials and taken before Jesus for judgment.  She was a sinner, full of sin, caught in the act of sin.  Her position before Christ was one of humiliation and discomfort.

He saw her clearly.

What would he do?

How would he respond?

Resolve that is formed by our Spiritual Transformation takes courage.  Such courage is found in this passage and many others throughout the pages of Scripture.  Such a position before Christ is required because when we encounter Him, in all of His glory and grace, we need to know that we offer nothing to aid Him in His quest to transform us.  We lay face down in the dirt; naked and humbled. Discomforted before Him and the crowd.  This and this alone is the moment of change, and it is the place where true resolve finds its grit.

Here is what Jesus knew: this woman, a sinner, full of sin, caught in the act of sin was brought to his feet by people who were sinners, full of sin, caught in the act of sin.  The irony of this story is rich at many levels.  What strikes me, however, is the fact that only one left changed that day.  There was only one who was Spiritual Formed: she who sat in the discomfort of God.  The others who sought to control the situation, demanding judgment, left unchanged by this powerful and compassion filled moment in the life of Christ.

So, here is an exercise I am going to try this last week of 2012 and the opening weeks of 2013.  Before I write my 'resolve', I am going to ask Christ to deal with me in discomfort and to find Him and His grace even when I am faced down in the dirt, humiliated before people with little love and even less patience.  The exercise is actually a prayer.  It is a prayer handed down to us from the pen of St. Augustine.  If I pray this daily, I might just get to the place where I am open to the trans formative power that comes in the discomfort of God.  Perhaps then my 'resolve' will be formed by my faith into a narrative of God grace rather than a checklist of my own controls.  

The prayer is below.  Perhaps it will shape your resolve as well!

the shape of desire!

Biz

Prayer for the New Year

O Lord, the house of  my soul is narrow; enlarge it that thou mayest enter in.  
It is ruinous.  O repair it!  It displeases thy sight; I confess it, I know.  
But who shall cleanse it, or to whom shall I cry but unto thee?  
Cleans me of my secret faults, O Lord, and spare they servant from strange sins.  
-- St. Augustine

The United States of 'Uncle Ricco'

Pop culture is infatuated with the age of 17.  I can, from a teen's perspective, understand why 17 is so important.  After all, this is often an age during which one has a strong sense of tomorrow coupled with the feeling of invincibility.  When I was 17 I recall believing that I was at my peak in many ways.  I further recall thinking that my current age (43) was a mere step from the grave.  Yes, from the perspective of a 17 year old adolescent, I get it - the world is their oyster.  The only problem is that most people the age of 17 are completely incomplete.  They are caught somewhere between Dustin Hoffman's 'Rain Man' and James Cameron's 'Titanic' - flashes of brilliant irrationality combined with a sense of superhuman invincibility.  This is a particularly destructive combination.

Sittin' Around Talkin' About . . . Glory Days
What I do not 'get,' however, is why those of us over 40 still long for and dream about the 'glory days' once past; those days when we were . . . 17 (Of course for some that magic moment could be age 29 - insert your preferred age of grand illusion here ____).  For an interesting and hopefully enjoyable trek down memory lane, consider this brief list of songs that extol in one way or another the virtues (or celebrates vices) of 'yesteryear' (mind you all of these are written by songwriters older than the age of 17, some of them much older):

1. Forever Young, Rod Stewart
2. Yesterday, The Beatles
3. You've Got to Fight for Your Right to Party, The Beastie Boys (okay, these guys were probably about 7 when they wrote this one).
4. Dancing Queen, Abba
5. Glory Days, The Boss
6. Summer of 69, Bryan Adams
7. Fast Cars and Freedom, Rascal Flatts
8. Springsteen, Eric Church

In the interest of 'fair play' it behooves me state that these songs and others like them (as well as a variety of components from our culture) may simply be relaying themes and ideas of times gone by in a way that cause us to pause and be thankful for where we are now; rather than longing for where we were then.  Yes, this may well be the case.  However it is increasingly clear that we are living in a world that 'idolizes' youth and detests aging.  We fight aging or 'growing old' at every turn.  From our incessant habits of exercise, endless consumption of diet pills, to our multi-billion dollar industry of cosmetic surgery, one might easily surmise that we are infatuated with youth.  Indeed many, if given the chance, would choose to be 17 again.

No Neutral Desire
Perhaps, in your own mind, you are already drawing a distinction between wanting to be 17 and remembering, with wonder, what it was  like.  Indeed, that may be the case - and, of course, that may also be the core of the problem.  In once sense the sheer act of remembering stirs within us and points us toward desire - a longing lurking somewhere just beneath the surface of our lives.   Desire (this longing), even if unseen or denied, always controls the helm of our heart, steering our lives in one direction or another - or holding us in a pattern of perpetually unrealized hopes and dreams.  Indeed, there simply is no neutral desire.  Desire always points toward a deeper conflict which lurks within.  In one sense it is not so much the conflict of desiring to be 17 again, as much as it is that a 'starry eyed' recollection of this wonder moment in your life may indeed be the cause of the languishing you currently experience.

The United States of Uncle Ricco
Consider for a moment the languishing uncle of Napoleon in the hit movie Napoleon Dynamite.  His name is Uncle Ricco.  Many of us know him well.  We laugh at him in order to protect our own hearts; for in his character we find an inkling of our own unfulfilled dreams and the agony of misdirected desire.  Uncle Ricco was a high school football star who simply never grew past that wonder moment of the grid-iron glory days long past.  In fact, he so deeply desires a recurrence of this moment that he continued to work on his 'football skills' (not to be confused with ninja skills) throughout the movie.  The writers made us laugh and point a finger at uncle Ricco, even as they caused us to ask the question, "what of Uncle Ricco lives within me?"  You find him at the tailgate party, or the beach side game of pick football.  He exists on the basket ball black tops and in the city play grounds throughout this country.  He dwells in the board room, and drinks from the water cooler in the company lounge.  He gets drenched in the Saturday night pub and stumbles into the Sunday morning pew.  Yes, he lives in the salon, the bar, the restaurant or the conflict around the dinner table . . . no, Uncle Ricco doesn't always throw a football.

Some Uncle Ricco and Napoleon Dynamite clips

Desire Rightly Stirred is Desire Rightly Steered
To remember has always stirred desire.  To remember falsely (i.e. glory days remembrance) stirs misdirected desire that leaves our hopes unfulfilled and someone (or thing) else to blame.  To remember rightly stirs desire that points us forward toward a still yet to be seen reality and a meaningful purpose as we strive toward such reality.  

The Ancients, a people who remembered rightly,  knew this difference well.  Consider the ancient Israelite's who journeyed for decades before arriving at the promised land.  They not only 'remembered' rightly, they memorialized right remembering!   One might even say they institutionalized remembering.  In Numbers 15 we find God commanding his people 'to make tassels for the hem of their clothing.'  These tassels, when looked upon, were to stir up memory of God's laws - the way forward - so that they would not be directed or 'steered' by misaligned desires.  To remember was, to them, a way forward - one which they weaved into the very fabric of their society and served to hold them fast and grant them purpose and meaning.  Further, the way forward - rife with both purpose and meaning - was grounded in their remembrance of God.  Yes, to remember was to be reminded that they were the people of God, set aside as a light unto the world, to bring glory to Him and honor to His name.

  
Whereas we moderns have also institutionalized remembrance - ours is an institution which points back to oneself.  The ancient institution was one in which memory pointed forward to God and His vision (away from oneself).  The former causes misaligned desire which leads to a life poorly lived.  The latter causes desire rightly directed which leads to a life rightly lived; instilling a vision for glory yet to come!

Perhaps the question I might leave us with today is this: 'Does my desire direct me to glory days long gone or to the day of glory yet to come?'  They way I answer this question impacts how I live my life and the stirring and steering of my deepest desire.

the shape of desire

Biz

Mathematics the Gospel and Why Partially Right is Entirely Wrong

Math.  I hated it.  In fact, when I graduated, I thought I would put mathematics behind me once and for all.  I recall, with joy, my final sessions of algebra, geometry and all their inbred cousins.  I slowly raised my body from the 'once size fits all' metal desk, adopted an arrogant 'I am finished with you' smirk, strolled past my teacher, through the doorway, into the hallway to my long anticipated math free adult life.  Yes I had found it: FREEDOM.  

My smirk said it all - 'no more math for me!'

Now, over 20 years later I have come to realize something:  I was wrong! There is no such thing as a math free life.  Math always seems to find you.  He haunts you like a bad habit you believed to be broken or a horrible memory you had hoped was shaken.  Just when you thought you were free you find that daily living requires mathematics. 

Yes.  Daily life requires math.  There are the basics of adding and subtracting: 'where did all my money go?'  There are the basics of computing and percentages: 'how much should I tip?' And then there is, of course, parenting math: 'dad, there are only two waffles left.  How do we split them between the three of us.'  To which I reply, 'child, you don't - I get them all.' Parenting math, however, goes beyond stealing waffles or anything else my prophetic teachers could have seen those long years ago.  Parenting math means you have to live through mathematics purgatory (a state of existence in which no amount of prayers provide deliverance) all over again through the homework your children are given to complete.  It is best if you learn it the first time, because by the time you are my age learning it comes with no small amount of the sacrificial 'blood, sweat and tears' offering - not to mention bartering and trading with the mathematics gatekeepers in the hopes that s/he will show mercy.

Yes in my home we often lament the far too familiar: hi - ho, hi -ho, it's off the math cliff we go . . . .

Funny thing.  When I assist my children in scaling this math cliff I find that I get most of the answer right.  You would think that is enough!  But noooo, you not only have to get the correct answer, you have to show how you got your answer.  Further the process (pathway to your answer) MUST be the process they (the mathematics gatekeepers) have taught - it must be their way.  The final wrinkle in this convoluted mess is this: there is no partial credit.  One would think that, in a discipline as specific and value free as mathematics, partial credit would be in high demand.  Not the case.  As we have found in our home time and time again, on more than one returned homework assignment: Partially Correct is Completely Wrong (usually accompanied by some silly smiley face - not sure when teachers decided that if you put a goofy smiley face next to your comments you can write anything you want to write).

And, though I remain frustrated with math, I have come to value the truth it teaches.  There is indeed a way to get something partly right and to be wholly wrong at the same time.  In today's expression of Christianity we live and breath in the world of 'partial credit,' failing to realize that we are wholly wrong.  

Take for example our modern 'privatization of the faith.'  I call it the 'just Jesus and me' Idol (yes, it's idolatry).  Ask any Christian today about their faith and they will speak in wholly personal terms.  One of the truths I have come to learn in my desire to be formed into the image of Christ and to bear witness to His rule in our world is this:   Spiritual formation, though personal, is never private (in contrast with the pervasive and fatally flawed American Christian Mantra: "It's just Jesus and me").  Don't hear what I am not saying . . . God is wholly concerned about the person.  After all, He created us as persons.  However, in any expression of religious growth, particularly Christian, you cannot find an emphasis on the person above the community.  In fact, as one reads the Scriptures, you find that the person grows in AND ONLY in community.  The pronouns utilized are rarely, if ever, singular - they are always plural and considered within the context of a local and vibrant community of faith.  

So, yes, we get it partially right: God cares about the individual.  And, we get it entirely wrong because God is opposed to individualism.  In all likely hood our break from a community of faith or our lack of commitment to one is a reflection on our own idolatry rather than our own freedom.  No, we are not being more Christian we we exclaim, 'it's just Jesus and me' - rather, we are simply being more American.  To become more Christian requires active and sacrificial participation in a local community of believers that gathers weekly to worship God and bear witness to His rule in this world.

I have included a link to an article that highlights the hope of our own spiritual growth and grants further insight into the church's role in that growth.  I encourage you to take a few minutes and read it . . . : http://www.reformedworship.org/article/march-2012/sanctification-ordinary-life

the shape of desire!

Biz

I'm a New York Yankees Hater - Irrationally so!

I hate the New York Yankees.  I hate them even more after Wednesday night's late and extra inning heroics.  I am not a Baltimore fan.  I am, however, the quintessential 'pull for anyone who plays the yankees' fan.  On Thursday morning I shared my loathe of this team with my daughter.  Allow me to recount our conversation

Biz: I hate the Yankees.

Hayla: Huh?  I thought we liked the Yankees??

Biz: No.  Never has there been a day in my reasonably rational life in which I have liked the Yankees??

Hayla:  But . . . we used to have a Yankee hat, remember?

Biz:  Yes, that was Luke's when he played Little League a few years ago.  I tried to remove him from the team, to no avail.

Hayla:  But, why don't you like the Yankees?  Is there any situation in which you might pull for them to win?

Biz:  Sweetheart.  If the team facing the Yankees were comprised of 9 of Hell's most fierce demons, I would still want the Yankees to loose.

Hayla:  Dad . . . . you might want to re think that . . .

Melissa (entering the room): What are you guys talking about.

Biz: I hate the Yankees.

There you have it.  My public confession of my hatred for these Yankees.  Perhaps the only team I like less than the Yankees would be the Jets (Yes!  Even with Tebow).  A close 'nipping at their heels' third would be the Dallas Cowboys.

Hayla's sage advice (she's only 10), however, haunted me during the day.  So, I did exactly what she said - I rethought it.  I tried to remember the first moment I could actually recall loathing the Yankees.  I could not.  I do remember, as a boy of about 10, hearing my father curse George Steinbrenner's name every time it screamed through our TV.  It must have begun then.  Beyond that, however, I have no rational basis for my hatred (other than being a Braves fan . . .).

In fact, years ago I had the opportunity to be the Baseball Chaplain for the Vero Dodger's several summers in a row. This also brought the added bonus of carrying the Spring Training duties for the big league clubs.  I met some Yankees during that time.  They were great.  Further, there are several on this year's version of the Yankees whom I admire, at least in regard to their baseball prowess.  Finally, who could ever, ever hate Joe Torre?  Certainly no reasonably minded person.

Perhaps that's it; my hatred of the Yankees is irrational.  Irrational hatred will undoubtedly produce irrational behavior. The  problem with belief that comes by way of the absence of reason or sound rationale is that believing anything else becomes increasingly more difficult.  Even now, as I write this blog, I realize my hatred for the Yankees is untarnished --- please Baltimore, please - spare us another World Series with a Bronx component.

Not long ago a friend and mentor of mine told me something that I have found to be quite true and valuable:  "Biz," he said, "you cannot reason someone out of a belief or position that they never reasoned themselves into."

Hmm . . .

I wonder how this might apply to spiritual formation for the sake of others?  For some time, now, I have been on a mission to frame Christian Discipleship as a life long journey toward God for the sake of others.  Believe it or not, from time to time, I get push back.  Much of this push back comes from those who are simply unable to frame Christianity or imagine their walk with the Lord in a new way.  Richard Rohr, in Everything Belongs, might say it like this: "Often times, the one 'mountain top' experience they had with the Lord becomes an obstacle to the new."

Yes, we long for 'the way we knew it when . . . '  Irrationally so!  Perhaps it was that pastor you dearly loved.  Or it might be that style of music you so enjoyed.  Better yet - that fantastic Sunday School group that somehow managed to forge deep bonds that no one could have imagined possible.  So, you find yourself defining God by how He has behaved in your life rather receiving Him for who He is - as He presents Himself to you.  Though not audibly, you quite clearly say : 'no, God - not like this . . . I want . . . I need . . . I . . . I . . . I'  You know intuitively that it is you who need Him; now, right now - in this present moment - in any capacity He will so generously offer.  Yet you make no adjustment.  Rather you 'double down' on your past experience and tighten the already myopic borders of your 'boxed in God.'  Eventually - hopefully - before it's too late, you will realize that you have fashioned God after your image rather than accepting and living into the the God who fashions you after His.

It's A Journey No Matter What
This has happened at least once before.  I am referring to Jonah.  God called him on a journey toward Himself for the sake of others.  The journey would go through Nineveh.  Problem: Jonah's calling by God didn't match how Jonah imagined God would call or who he imagined God to be.  Solution: Jonah did his own thing.  He went his own way.  He didn't adjust. Rather, he simply 'doubled down' on his past experience and tightened his already myopic borders.  Yes. He went to Joppa.  A region in the other direction - perhaps as far as you could get away from Nineveh.  God, however, does not rest nor does he sleep - He pursues.  He is indeed, as Thompson once penned, 'the hound of heaven.'

God took Jonah's boarding pass. He allowed him to forge ahead - in his own way - deep into the sea.  Then God . . . enough said: Then God!!  You know the rest of the story.  I'm not saying that Jonah jumped into the water, but he certainly went for a swim.  It was in the wet, dampness of God's pursuit that Jonah found himself . . . that Jonah found his God.  It was here in the belly of the great fish where Jonah learned the lesson we all, I guess, are slow to learn: It's a journey no matter what!!

Here's a thought: let go of your need to control and to re-live that once great experience in your life.  Let go of your need to understand God (as you have fashioned Him in your own mind).  Rather, live in the tension of a journey that doesn't make sense.  A journey that defies the latest program, trend, or get fixed quick scam.  Realize that He who doesn't let go travels this journey with you and ahead of you - for the sake of yourself and other!   God whose endless love is both relentless and magnificent.  So much so that you might in fact find that to run away from Him is to run right into Him!  Yes, perhaps you simply need to take a journey toward Him for the sake of others . . . pack light - after all you may get wet!

the shape of desire . . . .

Biz

Go Braves . . . err, I mean Orioles (at least for now)

Imagining Spiritual Formation as a 'Caspian-esque' Journey

The faint whisper of a fanciful world danced through his mind for as long as he could remember.  This whisper, though fanciful and nearly impossible to imagine, captured his heart and shaped his desires in the deepest recesses of his soul.  He had heard them initially from his nurse.  After the dismissal of his nurse came Dr. Cornelius.  More savvy than the nurse, Dr. Cornelius found ways to keep the whisper alive and the dream stoked within.

This whisper illuminated a world of peace and perfect harmony.  It was a world where the animals spoke, the trees danced and the gallant fought for the good of all.  It was a world which captured the Prince's heart and stoked his deepest longing.  It was a world in which the Prince was forbidden to believe.  It was, in fact, a world in which all were forbidden to believe.

This forbidden world, kept alive through whisper and hope, was said to have been created by the misfits and rebels. As such it was said to have been a world which never truly existed and could certainly never be achieved.  It was a world that existed, if ever at all, long, long before the reign of Miraz the King and the mighty Telmarines.

Of course, you recognize the story as Prince Caspian, from C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia.  It is difficult, one might imagine, to live with the faint whisper of a world in which your heart finds hope yet is forbidden to believe.  Truth be told, however, we all live with this whisper of a world in which we long to hope but are reluctant to believe.  It is a whisper which illuminates a world of peace, a world of hope.  It is a whisper which reminds us that this is not all there is.  Indeed, there is more; there is better.  There is greater yet to be seen and experienced.  It is a world in which our hope resides; our joys one day fulfilled.  We often think of this world as one that cannot be achieved, at least not on 'this side' of our earthly existence.

IN ALL AND THROUGH ALL

Yet the ancient record reminds us that this whisper of a world is in existence even now.  It is a world that can be experienced in real time.  One in which we are able to participate as we live and as we go our way.  Our ability to participate in this whisper of a world is uniquely related to our ability to see He who authors the whisper - to see He who is in all thing and through all things.  This world is described in Colossians 1.  It is a world which drips with the presence of Christ, the King.  It is a world into which we are invited to participate with God in his work: "Christ is the visible image of the invisible God.  He existed before anything was created and is supreme over all creation, for through Him God created everything in the heavenly realms and on earth.  He made the things we can see and the things we can't see - such as thrones, kingdoms, rulers, and authorities in the unseen world.  Everything was created through and for Him.  He existed before anything else, and he holds all creation together."

In this text we face an amazingly wonderful alternative reality, which by in large remains unseen: Christ's presence is in all things and through all things!  Every component of  life - all  the activities of which life  is comprised are opportunities to see, experience and participate with Christ and his work!  The problem for us, as it was for Caspian, is that we are 'seeing with Telmarine eyes.'  Such sight prevents us from seeing this world rightly because it is sight which has been formed, and is now guarded, by a counterfeit king (Miraz) ruling a counterfeit kingdom (Miraz's rule).   Therefore, experiencing this whisper of a world (seeing this alternative reality rightly), may require an escape to the wood where our current world might be expanded and our vision enlarged.

INTO THE WOOD WE GO

In Lewis' tale, this whisper of a world became an alternative reality when and only when Caspian was forced to escape to the wood.  If you remember the story, you know that Caspian's life was placed in immediate danger upon the birth of a child.  The child of Miraz the King.  The only hope for Caspian was escape.  Escape meant a journey into the fabled haunted forest.  It meant a journey into the unknown and a willingness to move forward into a realm in which he had no control and had always been taught to fear.  Yet in this wood  he would encounter the alternative reality of which he had always dreamt.   

In the wood he found that animals did speak and trees did dance.  In the wood he found the hope of a world once dashed and the joy of a presence now named.  In the wood, and only in the wood, he was awakened to his true identity and the life for which he was destined.  In order for Caspian to fully experience and see things rightly - through Narnian rather than Telmarine eyes - he was required to both venture into the wood and embrace the truth that the wood revealed.   One or the other would never be enough, the journey would require all!

If Spiritual formation is a life long journey with God for the sake of others, then it might require a venture into the wood and the embrace of the truth revealed.  For in the wood we are opened up to a larger world, the one created by God for our existence.  In the wood we find our true identity.  In the wood we are guided to His greater purpose as we discover God in all things from the mundane to the magnificent!

Journeys demand decisions.  Caspian slowed at the entrance of the wood.  A decision to make.  Either he would venture forward into the world of the unknown which lay out of his control, or he would return to the world he had known and in which he had a sense of self (false self though it may be).  He no doubt wondered what he might find and what it would require.  Yet he focused on the issue central to the core of his dilemma: 'would he enter the wood or turn back?'  The  answer to this question would determine the journey he would take.  Indeed, the answer to this question will determine our own . . . 

the shape of desire,

Biz