breathing into dust

I’m coming back to prayer.

Not that I was that far from it.  Starting a church has a curious way to cause you to get callouses on your knees.  Each week is a new challenge, which causes that sense of crisis, which causes one to cry out to God.  But even then, the practices of faith such as prayer and Scripture reading can become routine and stale.

It’s interesting to me how the practices of faith have their own cycles.  Sometimes prayer is exciting and dynamic, other times it is as dry as dust.  But there is nothing like when God gathers that dust and breathes His life back into it.  It can create something that is dynamic because it looks like His image again. That has to happen over and over again in our walk with God.

We all need God to breathe His life into us.  Our part is to stay faithful, even when those practices go from a raging river to a desert.  Dead reading of Scripture is better than no reading at all.  Eating the dust of a dull prayer becomes a part of the refreshing when we feel the waters flow down from the mountain.

The key for all of us is to stay on task no matter what the season.  The dust becomes full of life and reminds us of who we are.  We grapple with our fallen nature and the image of God when we apply ourselves to seeking God.  It’s a part of this life.  May it be a part of your life as well.

breaking out of the box(es)

“I just visit a different church each week, that’s what I do.”   In her early 50’s, the woman making this statement to me had a sweet smile and warm eyes.   She had come very early to find the location and made herself comfortable in a cushioned seating area.  I found her to be a very friendly person.

That was until I started to try to move some of the storage boxes with our church supplies.  You see, we meet in an off Broadway theater.  And like many churches that rent where they gather to worship, we use storage bins to hold the basic items that we need.  If you come early enough on a Sunday morning you’ll walk into a room filled with large plastic bins of supplies for all of the assorted things that we do in a service.

Our friend had found the corner where most of the bins were stacked and promptly nestled herself behind them.  The moment that I began to move some of the bins to put them away prior to the service, her demeanor changed; she became agitated.  The agitation started graciously at first, “Oh no, you don’t have to move these for me.  I don’t mind them at all.”  I was very gentle at first, explaining that it was no trouble at all.  She would be able to see the service if I moved the bins.

She countered, “Please don’t move these bins.  I can see just fine.”  In New York, space is a premium, so I had to explain to her that we would probably need the seating area as people arrived.  This did not deter her.  In fact, she actually became more adamant.  As I put my hands on one of the bins, she grabbed it to keep it in place.  I found myself playing a little tug-of-war with this sweet woman!  Except now, she wasn’t looking so sweet.  Then it dawned upon me – she sat there so no one could get close to her.  I did have to move the bins and we were pretty full, but she had to let me take down those walls.  Fortunately, a young lady in our congregation came over to meet this woman.  The distraction was wonderfully helpful.

After the service I thought on this awhile.  Isn’t this a story for all of us?  We are attracted to what God can do in community, yet we are scared to be known.  Like a moth attracted to a flame, we are made for relationships. Yet like this woman, we want community to be on our terms.  But community on our terms is not really community, it’s manipulation.  We keep building our walls of plastic bins to try to control the very people who can help us.

I think about the plastic bins that I use to keep people away while I’m in the middle of community.  Busyness, position, there are a lot of ways that I create artificial divides between me and those directly around me.  To go from anonymity to relationships can be a terrifying process.

Yet that is where God constantly takes us.  Christianity has doctrine, but that doctrine is about a relationship with God.  The fountainhead of our faith is relationship.  Why would we be surprised that the Holy Spirit keeps taking us to expressions of community?  The church is not man’s idea; it’s mandated in Scripture as God’s plan for the world.

I’m praying for my new found friend.  I pray that she comes back to Grace, but if she doesn’t I’m praying for people around her who won’t let her stay hidden behind plastic bins.  We all need people to come and take those walls down.  It may be terrifying at first, but it is ultimately liberating.

Isn’t that what Jesus came to do?  To set us free so that we could be free indeed?

a high wire act

I saw a tightrope artist go across the Lincoln Center today.  As I watched the clown precariously walk on that shaking, thin wire over our heads I couldn’t help but think of our walk with God.  I could imagine what was going through his head as he took his first few steps.  If his world is like mine, no matter how many times he walks that wire there is a sense of “what am I doing here?”.  Each shaky step brings both a bracing for the next step and a sigh of relief that the last step held him sure. 

Another thing is that he can’t look down, nor can he get lost in the final destination.  No, each step is what he needs to focus on.  Occasional glances to the end point encourages him along the way, but each step has to be sure and firm.

He also can’t go too fast nor too slow.  If he tries to rush it, he’ll lose his balance and plummet.  If he goes to slow he’ll psych himself out with all of the dangers around him.  No, it’s a slow and steady pace that will get him to the end of his journey.  There is too much banking on this step to be preoccupied with what had happened 5 steps ago.

I find our walk of faith to be like that.  If you look around you or look down you can get overwhelmed by your circumstances,  but if you look ahead and focus on what is in front of you you can take the next step.  According to Scripture the apostle Peter walked on the water, yet when he saw the wind and the waves he began to sink.  One thing stands out to me about that story: what does wind and waves have to do with walking on water?  We can criticize Peter for sinking but he was the only one to step out of the ship.

When the tight rope walker got to the other side of the Lincoln Center and stepped on the roof of the building, there was a shout from all of us.  No one was a loud as the walker himself, who had finished his task and now could celebrate his achievement.

At the twilight of his ministry, the apostle Paul said to his protege Timothy:

I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.  (2 Timothy 4:6-8)

May we all be able to celebrate at the end of our walk.  But until then, we just need to focus on the next step…