Offering - Lent 2014, Week 1

Gracious Creator, I am no longer my own but yours. Put me to what you will; rank me with whom you will. Let me be employed by you or laid aside, exalted for you or brought low. Let me be full, let me be empty. Let me have all things, let me have nothing. I yield all things to your pleasure and disposal. (from John Wesley's Covenant Prayer)

Tonight, I am meditating on these words and wondering about the implications of praying in such a way.  Are we able to honestly pray these words?  Do we invite Divine to truly shape and mold us?  Do we truly desire to be like the One many of us know as the Christ? Are we willing to be laid aside, brought low and to become completely empty of ego and self-seeking?

It's easy to pray for half of these things -- to invite abundance, exaltation and fullness. That, however, is only part of the prayer.  To walk the Lenten road -- to invite times of unemployment, times of scorn or rejection, times of emptiness, loneliness or darkness without turning away in fear is to open ourselves up to the rest of the story.  In many spiritual traditions, the faithful are invited into times of fasting, meditation and prayer. 

My husband’s tribe, like many of our Native brethren, sends young men (and sometimes women) into the wilderness to learn their spiritual calling, to develop their courage, to conquer fear, and to open themselves up to adulthood.  Food or drink is limited or cut-off before the journey, and the seeker becomes a finder of themselves and Divine.  When they return, a feast is prepared, and initiation rituals commence.  They often receive a new name as they sing the song that they receive from their guardian(s) and enter the fullness of adulthood. 

Likewise, our tribal friends in Mexico participate in times of fasting from certain foods and activities as they prepare to journey to sacred sites asking for wisdom, guidance, healing and help that they can bring back to their people.  Pilgrims along the journey often encounter strong resistance both from inside themselves and from forces of nature as part of their learning and strengthening.  This is true for many of our ancestral traditions throughout the world.

Despite the ancestral invitation to participate in such emptying, I admit that I struggle to pray in this way.  It is difficult to invite Divine Love to compress me into something that feels makes me feel useless, laid aside or empty.  It seems counter-intuitive.  This prayer and the practice of fasting and releasing our own desires is certainly counter-cultural.  It certainly strikes a blow to our ego when we intentionally invite blank space into our existence.  We must face our fear that tells us once we completely release what we have, offering everything into the hands of the One who gave it in the first place, we might not ever get it back.

Ah, fear - that four letter word prevents many a devout person from entering into the depth of Relationship they so desperately long for.  I am far from alone in this struggle.  It is a cultural reality in this “self-made-millionaire” society.  Fear is everywhere, but it often wears a mask.  We all have our secret fears.  One of mine is the fear of becoming useless.

I desire to impact others for the better.  I desire to help.  I desire to do.  I desire to become someone of significance.  I do not want to be forgotten or cast aside.  I do not want my mind to cease remembering or my body to cease functioning.  I do not wish for my voice to be taken or for my comprehension to become muddled.  And I recognize that each of these statements, even those with seemingly beneficial intent, there is a propensity towards fear.

As I consider all that I have written thus far today, I return to the prayer.  Are the words of John Wesley more than I can pray tonight?  And yet, the closer I draw to the One I call "Beloved," the more intensely I hear the invitation to pray this way echoing in my soul.

Maybe I long to pray this gripping prayer because I long to trust.  I want to trust.  I want to believe that, should any of these things ever happen to me, I would not truly be cast off or ignored or rejected or forgotten.  Do I struggle to trust God, or do I struggle with the trust of God's people?  Although the two are often linked, they are not at all the same.

Beloved,  

I want to trust that my worth is not inherently wrapped up in what I do.  I want to trust that I will continue to be loved and valued even when I can no longer contribute to society in the ways I am used to.  I deeply desire to see Light and Love flowing so freely through your peoples that no one would be afraid to pray these words.

You know my fears.  You know my longings.  You know how deeply I desire to connect with You.  Every day I yearn for more of You, and every day I wish to offer You more of myself. Perhaps one day I will be completely willing and able to pray Wesley's prayer.  For now, I trust that You meet me where I am, and somehow I feel that my desire to pray is as pleasing to You as the actual prayer itself.  I am grateful for your Love and I long to bring You joy.

Vacuuming, Planting and the Intangibility of Ministry

In the last couple of months, a good portion of my time has been dedicated to helping to develop a contemplative prayer service on Wednesday nights in my worship community and aiding in the guidance and supervision of religious development of senior high youth in an inter-religious fellowship.  Online development of blogs, social media networking and the planning and implementation of worship services all take time.  The effectiveness of this spent time, however, is not always able to be quantified or evaluated.  The support of ministry is somewhat intangible.

During this time frame since my weekday job came to an end, I have used a large portion of my time in soul-searching, the tending and healing of old wounds, evaluation of my intended career pathway(s) and filling out applications and online inquiries for job postings that look like they may be fulfilling for me.  Since I have not yet found a position that fills these weekdays, much of my free time has gone towards housekeeping and self-care.  Just as the support ministries listed above, neither of these things are really able to be evaluated.  Although a clean house is nice, it doesn't stay that way for long.

While vacuuming this morning, my soul once more was directing its attention to our Creator.  I was inquiring about the direction in which to travel to bring economic security to our household (although my husband is working full-time, I need to bring in at least a partial income to supplement what he provides while I await my ordination and, hopefully, full-time ministry work).  Continuing in my housework, I simply watch and wait on the Beloved's response.  The Spirit had something to say today as the vacuum passed to and fro on the office carpet.

All is intangible, She whispered.  All that I have called you to in this time is preparing you for the intangibility of ministry.  You plant the seeds of faith in every kind of soil that I place in front of you.  You preach and teach, you hold the hands of the wounded and broken, you guide and advise the peoples who are looking for direction, you pray for everyone you see and hear, and you point people towards My work in your midst.  But that is as far as your work can go.  Everything else is up to Me.

My thoughts turned towards the bulbs I planted last fall and those that I added to the soil this fall.  Not all of them will sprout.  Some have already been stolen by the squirrels who need a little extra sustenance for their winter nests.  Others simply do not have the DNA structure within them to support a full blossom in the warm months.  A couple of them have already started to sprout and their tiny shoots will be frozen over when the winds of winter blow through.  I have no control over any of those factors.  Granted, I can cover the ground with chicken wire or stones to attempt to thwart the advances of the squirrels, and I can insulate the tender shoots with peat moss and leaves to try and protect them from winter's effects.  But, in these preventative measures, my options are limited simply on account of our dwelling in a rental property.

Planting in my Garden - Photo by Trista Wynne

I understand why some church leaders and certain personalities are drawn towards the tangibility of membership numbers and financial contributions.  These things are quantifiable.  They can be judged and thus give some people a goal towards which to proceed.  We've saved x number of souls this month and baptized y converts, some might boast.  Our staff includes more people than you have attending your congregation, another might say.  Competition sets in and self-assurance soars -- that is, until the numbers begin to decline and self-identity begins to spiral downward.

The ministry that Jesus calls me to is not one that appeals to that sort of power jockeying.  My identity can not be based on such things.  I have come to learn that my self-image needs to stand on its own, content to be dwelling in the arms of our Beloved.

Perhaps this is why I have been called into this time of transitional rest.  As my soul and mind are gently healed from the wounds of old and I am working towards ordination, I am called to lay my cares and concerns into the hands of the One who is guiding my path.  I am simply called into Relationship.  This is my preparation for ministry, so that I can firmly say with the apostles of old:

For my part, I am going to boast about nothing but the Cross of our Master, Jesus Christ. Because of that Cross, I have been crucified in relation to the world, set free from the stifling atmosphere of pleasing others and fitting into the little patterns that they dictate. Can’t you see the central issue in all this? It is not what you and I do—submit to circumcision, reject circumcision. It is whatGod is doing, and he is creating something totally new, a free life! All who walk by this standard are the true Israel of God—his chosen people. Peace and mercy on them! (Gal. 6:14-16, The Message)

Reflecting on a Dream

Tomorrow I head to the coast for a discernment retreat with a very dear friend of mine.  This evening, as the last bits of light from the daylight slowly fade and the shadows of nightfall once again cover the land, I have found myself pawing through my journal pages.  What might the Spirit might illuminate for me to ruminate upon?

This entry leaps off the page into my psyche.  This is what my spirit is swirling over this evening...

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Sunday, the 17th of March, 7:15 p.m. -- Today I presided at The Lord's Table for the first time.  I am very blessed to be in a church where "the priesthood of all believers" is not just theory but praxis.  This beautiful congregation at Murrayhills Christian has blessed me beyond belief.

First Day Presiding - 17 March 2013 - Photo by Matthew Wynne

I have dreamed of this day since I was three.  Very few dreams stick with us persistently for that long.  This dream, and visions of myself as pastor, have gone through ebbs and flows of urgency over the years.  Certain aspects, (like pay, setting, denomination, location) have gone through significant transformation over the years -- particularly in the years leading up to, and during, seminary.  Still, the dream of presiding at the Eucharist Table -- breaking the bread and blessing the cup in the Jesus tradition, extending an open invitation to all -- has remained as a constant.

Political Pondering

Beloved,

As I sit here wondering whose face will represent our country for the next four years, I wonder what You think of all this political craziness and upheaval.  I wonder if any of the potential leaders have the humility and depth of character to look to You for real guidance.  How many nation leaders spend time in meditation and focusing of their life-force energy which flows forth from Your own Spirit?

What would happen if we all desired peace above war, life above death, hope above fear and love above hate?

What if these were the values we looked for in a leader?  How might the world be different?

What would it take for our country to shine like the stars in the heavens, and to be light and a healing balm for the world?

You alone know.

What Does it Mean to Trust You?

Beloved,

One of my dear friends recently shared how difficult it is to trust You, especially in times of transition.  This one does believe that things will work out and has experienced your faithfulness and provision on several occasions and yet still finds it difficult to trust.  This friend is not alone.  Countless others have conversed with me about the difficulty they have trusting You.  For many, it's easier to not believe that You exist at all than it is to examine what it means when we use the phrase, "God is good".

Like my friend and countless others, I, too, have difficulty trusting You.  It is hard to admit that at the end of my seminary studies I may be no closer to comprehension or faith or trust than I was at the beginning.

Something, however, has shifted.  This time of study, of fellowship, of exploration of Your Community -- it has shifted my perspective.  As of yet, I cannot articulate how.

Dreaming of Home

Then I considered all that...hands had done
and the toil...spent in doing it,
 all was vanity and a chasing after wind,
and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.
~ Eccl. 2:11 ~

Yesterday, in the wee hours of the morning, I dreamed that my husband and I were looking for an apartment complex, looking for a home where we belonged.

Photo by
Matthew Wynne

We began near many large, elegant looking buildings where sports cars gleamed and jewels were strewn about well-manicured lawns.  Gardeners baked in the sun.  Maids wilted on front porches.  Striving, oppression and emptiness were there.

We drove to the darker side of town.  Oil can fires burned bright.  Dogs barked and fought.  Distant sounds children wailing echoed off the barren walls.  Striving, oppression and emptiness were there.

The road curved.  Nearing a forested area with deer peacefully enjoying their bits of grass, we came to a stop by a little apartment housing made of dark, well-weathered cherry-wood.  The keys were drawn from the ignition and our feet reached for the bark chips on the ground.  Hand reached for hand.  There we stood, taking in the serenity around us.  We breathed in deeply and walked towards the buildings for a closer look.

Born to be a Healer

Psalm 139:13
Photo by friend Justin Foltz
Used with permission.

One of my dear friends and prayer partners who is working as a Bible translator in Asia mailed a special book to me for the holidays.  I just received it yesterday.  The book is entitled Whispers of His Word: Encountering Jesus.  It is a journal with brief verses and writing prompts to focus us in on the heart of God.

Last night I read the introduction and turned to the first entry page.  There I found Psalm 139:13.

For You created my inmost being;
You knit me together in my mother's womb.

The prayer prompt begins by addressing our Lord as the creative, loving father who crafted us in our mother's womb and knew every fiber of our being before we even took our first breath beginning a journey of self-discovery that lasts throughout our lives.  Daddy, Papa, Abba, You made me so wonderful.  Why?

The lines in the journal remained blank as I simply breathed deeply and asked the Holy Spirit to come and touch me:   

Come, Sophia, Creative Energy, Dancing Child.  
Come, draw near and whisper in my ear.  
Come, draw close, and fill me with Your presence.  
Come, and let me draw near to You.

Extreme Humility

This post was composed last Wednesday as I reflected on the icon of extreme humility in St Thomas' chapel, but I wanted to include a photo when I shared it and didn't have my camera with me at the time.  So, now that I have the icon to show you, please ponder along with my prayer below.

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Growing in the Light

Hello, Beloved.

My heart is much more at peace this evening than it was just a couple of days ago.  You have granted a good sliver of sunshine both days, and I was able to get out and walk without a sweatshirt for three days in a row, at least for a while.  I look forward to having several days in a row where I won't even think about putting on a sweatshirt or sweater.  Perhaps those days are not so very far away.

What do You Have in Your Hands?

The question posed by the pastor at Westminster Chapel this morning echoes through my heart.  What do we have in our hands, bodies, minds, spirits, talents and being that the Lord desires to use?  What are the limitations we impose upon ourselves?  God has gifted us with a vast array of talents and personality traits.  All of them can be used for God’s glory.  How do our perceived limitations get in the way?  Maybe we have much more to offer than we believe.  What would the Lord like to do in, with and through us?

"Working Hands" - Photo by Matthew Wynne

I wonder about these things as I prepare to lay my head against the pillow this evening.  Just a few short hours ago we found ourselves in the Fremont Abbey with the Church of the Apostles.  The speaker there reflected on Jesus’ assertions from the gospel of John. “I am the good shepherd.”  “I am the door.”  These images all give us clues as to what our Lord is like.

What then shall We say? You Alone Know, O Lord!

Beloved Jesus ~

No one in Your time, save for Mary of Bethany, seemed to understand the gravity of the time You found Yourself in during the last days of Your earthly life. How could they comprehend what they had never before seen? What could You use as an illustration of the events that were about to unfold? How could it possibly make sense, even to those who followed You so closely?

The work which our Father had given for You to accomplish was new and strange to them. The ministry You did and the love You gave was like nothing they had ever experienced, but was not without connection to the work of our Father throughout history. How could You describe what You were given to accomplish? The analogies simply fell short of the reality; and they still do today.

Ah Beloved, there is not one person who fully comprehends all that You accomplished through Your incarnation. Your birth, life, death and resurrection, although foretold in bits and pieces of vision through the prophets of old, still caught everyone by surprise when it all came to pass. No one quite understood what You were doing while they were in Your presence, but they all knew that something was different about You.

They were intrigued and excited, or perhaps a bit nervous and skeptical. But mostly the people around You were simply hungry for truth, love and freedom. They were feeling abandoned or neglected and trapped in oppressive circumstances. Most of all, they were lacking hope.

Likewise, we who are entering ministry today find ourselves surrounded by people in similar circumstances. The people we are called to work with, to tend to, and to feed, are Your peoples who have lost sight of Your direction or have not yet been introduced to Your freedom and love. We are called to search for those who are wandering far from the way that leads to life. We are called to bring light to a darkened world and hope to those who are filled with dread at the thoughts of the future. We are called to bring healing and a message of Your reconciliation to a world filled with war, violence and bloodshed. You have given us to be healing balm to a wounded, suffering world.



"Life in the Midst of Death" - Photo by Trista Wynne

 How then shall we speak to them, Beloved? What then shall we say? How will our pathways be like, and unlike, Yours? Oh Lord, You alone know!

As we prepare to enter our calling more deeply, may we be humble and willing to accept correction when the Spirit deems it necessary, and resilient enough to let unwarranted criticism roll of our backs. May we be soft enough to be approachable, and strong enough to stand firm when You call us to, O Lord. May Your Sophia-Spirit breathe wisdom into us so that we can respond gently and peaceably in all the times and spaces where such responses are needed. May all that we are, and all that we do, be for Your glory, Beloved; may the world come to know the Father who sent us in the first place, in Your name, amen.