The moment my instructor climbed out of the airplane, I knew that I would never be the same. It was one of those moments where we can feel God's presence with us. The weight of the moment is nearly overwhelming, almost more than we can bear.
Even during those life-changing events we looked at earlier, we have choices.
John Eldredge says that we are all warriors, we all have a battle to fight. Whether or not we choose to fight this battle is up to us. We can choose to embrace our Sacred Moments and act on them, or we can ignore them.
I could have shut down the airplane, climbed out, and said, "I'm not ready. I don't want to do this today." I could have walked away from my sacred moment.
Likewise, the other sacred moments that we hear about are all preceded by a choice. Someone chose to go ahead with whatever they were doing. Or not doing.
Jacob could have dismissed his fight with the angel as too much paprika in his hummus the night before. Moses could have decided to not look at the burning bush. Brush fires probably were fairly common out in the desert, and the safest place to be in a brush fire would have been not right next to it. The disciples could have said, "You know, I'm flattered, but in twenty years or so, and I'm going to own a share in these fishing boats."
When the Israelites were getting set to enter the Promised Land, there came a time when they had to cross the Jordan River, and physically enter in to the promise that God had given them. They could have stayed in the desert. "We're fine," they could say, "we've been doing this for forty years now. We've got our system down. We're good at finding water, and we're really good at setting up camp and herding our goats."
When God told the Israelites to take the Promised Land, He promised that He would take care of them, that He would give them what He promised. But they had to do the work. The campaign to take the Promised Land was a military campaign. There were wars, battles, sieges, cities being taken and burned to the ground: it was carnage!
The Israelites could have stopped right there, they could have not embraced their Sacred Moment. Joshua was a strong, intelligent statesman for Israel, the spiritual and political successor to Moses. He probably wanted to build a bridge, or some other semi-permanent structure to carry Israel safely across the river. Maybe he even wanted to stay put, and not risk his army and his nation in battle and war. But God wanted Joshua to step into the Sacred Moment. God wanted Israel to proclaim His power, His strength to the rest of the world.
Because that, essentially, is the reason for a Sacred Moment: that the world may know.
Sure, it feels awesome to realize you are having a special moment with the Creator of the Universe, and it can change our lives in significant ways. But that's not the point. The point is that God is glorified.
And we can talk about it all we want, we can spout Bible verses and stories until we're blue in the face, but how can we really, truly express the greatness of God? At some point, our words will fail us, and God shows us angels holding us as we talk. God shows us the beauty of our hometown from the air. God shows us that we really need to be at church on this particular morning. We need our Sacred Moments, so a cynical, cold, uncaring world can see how great God truly is.
Erwin McManus said that more often than not, God invites us into His grand plan, and instead of joining Him in all that He has planned for us, we settle. We could do with so much less. We fail to step into our Sacred Moment, we fail to recognize that God is glorifying Himself through us, and we settle for "good enough".
We need to stop doing this. What we need to do is seek out our Sacred Moments, and we need to step into them fully and intentionally.
May God grant us the wisdom to see our Sacred Moments, and the courage to embrace them.
wingnut
29 September 2008
24 September 2008
I'm not the Only One Mourning the Loss of Intelligent Discussion
As a follow up to my last post, I offer this article from the blog The Art of Manliness. The article itself is about politics, but if you search and replace "politics" with "religion", then the article still stands.
Read it here. If you are so inclined, read through the comments as well, there are some very intelligent ones.
wingnut
Read it here. If you are so inclined, read through the comments as well, there are some very intelligent ones.
wingnut
22 September 2008
The Dilemma
I am in a dilemma. A pickle. An epic struggle. This epic struggle, this battle of biblical proportions, is something I have struggled with for a long time.
I really don't know how to handle myself in these situations.
Before everyone leaves in confusion, I should probably back up and explain myself.
I like to argue with Christian Fundamentalists. I know it's not very nice, or very productive, in fact it's probably counter-productive, but nonetheless, I enjoy few things more than hauling out my historical-grammatical interpretation stick and swinging it wildly at anyone who comes near. And not in a kind, loving way either. Unless you count the way Jesus chased the money changers out of the Temple as loving. Then I guess I do it in a loving way.
I was goofing off online the other day, and came across a video that a dear friend of mine had posted. It was a church that recently hosted a local high school battle of the bands. Most of the music was hardcore thrash metal, loud, obnoxious, and very energetic. His complaint was that the church had apparently "sold out", or "gone soft" on their message in order to reach kids. He wondered what was wrong with the original message that nobody wanted to preach that anymore. Why do we need secular heavy metal bands in order to bring kids in the doors?
I really don't know how to handle myself in these situations.
Before everyone leaves in confusion, I should probably back up and explain myself.
I like to argue with Christian Fundamentalists. I know it's not very nice, or very productive, in fact it's probably counter-productive, but nonetheless, I enjoy few things more than hauling out my historical-grammatical interpretation stick and swinging it wildly at anyone who comes near. And not in a kind, loving way either. Unless you count the way Jesus chased the money changers out of the Temple as loving. Then I guess I do it in a loving way.
I was goofing off online the other day, and came across a video that a dear friend of mine had posted. It was a church that recently hosted a local high school battle of the bands. Most of the music was hardcore thrash metal, loud, obnoxious, and very energetic. His complaint was that the church had apparently "sold out", or "gone soft" on their message in order to reach kids. He wondered what was wrong with the original message that nobody wanted to preach that anymore. Why do we need secular heavy metal bands in order to bring kids in the doors?
It all started in college. My roommate and I read books by John Dominic Crossan and Marcus Borg and others, who challenged our assumptions and traditions about the Bible and Christianity. It was an amazing period of discovery and learning and stretching.
But then we would use these new insights to bash people over the head with how wrong they were, how they were mired in traditionalism and we had liberated ourselves from that trap and were therefore closer in our understanding to the "real" Christianity, and because of that, better people. We had it all figured out, and this exclusive club had no room for ridiculous theories and complex ideas to explain and rationalize the escapist mentality of "mainstream" Christianity.
I have since mellowed a bit about it, but the fact remains that I have little or no tolerance for people denying historical and archaeological fact in order to preserve their way of life. I quickly grow frustrated when people try to sound all holy yet contradict themselves as they speak. I want to tell them that they sound like complete buffoons, but I know well what arguments they will use against me, and the whole debate seems tired and stale, and I am sick of it.
When I watched that video, I thought it was an interesting way to reach out to the local community, and perhaps connect with kids who may not ever step foot in a church. I am not a big fan of that particular genre of music, but I give the church credit for thinking outside the box and trying to reach out like that. I posted as much in my comment, and was immediately rebuffed by another person who said that I was wrong because the "ends don't justify the means." He went on to compare this incident to the David Crowder Band song, Undignified, and ended his comment with the statement, "Since when did God say become undignified?"
He totally misunderstood the point of the song, and built his whole argument around that misunderstanding. When I hear arguments like that it makes me angry. It was clear to me that the person did not really listen to the lyrics of the song, and didn't really care.
Another person that commented claimed at first that the concert got kids in the door, but it was only the church building that they were in. I guess he was implying that they weren't really in church, just the building. But then he said the whole affair was disrespectful to God's House. After he just got done saying it was "only a building". He ended his comment with the statement that we are in the end times, and this was evidence of "many being deceived."
Oh the things I wanted to type back! Just like back in college, I wanted to let loose, all barrels. I was cocked, locked, and ready to rock. I instantly had responses to their comments, and none of them were loving. I literally had to shut down the laptop and go play with Eli for a bit.
This really highlights the issue I have. I do not know where to begin. I have heard many arguments about this, and I really think that many of these issues are not worth fighting over. They are not worth splitting churches over. They're not worth "changing denominations" over, whatever that means.
I don't want to pick a fight. I don't want to cause division or strife. So then my inclination is to keep silent, keep my opinions to myself, since I know what will happen.
But at the same time, I want people to understand the same way I do. I don't need them to agree with me, I just want them to understand and accept that it's okay to disagree with one another sometimes, that we don't have to cause these huge conflicts over it, these huge rifts in the church and our faith over these things that in the long run aren't that serious of issues. I want to say all of these things and I want to be heard, and I want Christians to get along with one another.
Because that's really the first step, and if we can't do even that, then what the hell can we do?
wingnut
But then we would use these new insights to bash people over the head with how wrong they were, how they were mired in traditionalism and we had liberated ourselves from that trap and were therefore closer in our understanding to the "real" Christianity, and because of that, better people. We had it all figured out, and this exclusive club had no room for ridiculous theories and complex ideas to explain and rationalize the escapist mentality of "mainstream" Christianity.
I have since mellowed a bit about it, but the fact remains that I have little or no tolerance for people denying historical and archaeological fact in order to preserve their way of life. I quickly grow frustrated when people try to sound all holy yet contradict themselves as they speak. I want to tell them that they sound like complete buffoons, but I know well what arguments they will use against me, and the whole debate seems tired and stale, and I am sick of it.
When I watched that video, I thought it was an interesting way to reach out to the local community, and perhaps connect with kids who may not ever step foot in a church. I am not a big fan of that particular genre of music, but I give the church credit for thinking outside the box and trying to reach out like that. I posted as much in my comment, and was immediately rebuffed by another person who said that I was wrong because the "ends don't justify the means." He went on to compare this incident to the David Crowder Band song, Undignified, and ended his comment with the statement, "Since when did God say become undignified?"
He totally misunderstood the point of the song, and built his whole argument around that misunderstanding. When I hear arguments like that it makes me angry. It was clear to me that the person did not really listen to the lyrics of the song, and didn't really care.
Another person that commented claimed at first that the concert got kids in the door, but it was only the church building that they were in. I guess he was implying that they weren't really in church, just the building. But then he said the whole affair was disrespectful to God's House. After he just got done saying it was "only a building". He ended his comment with the statement that we are in the end times, and this was evidence of "many being deceived."
Oh the things I wanted to type back! Just like back in college, I wanted to let loose, all barrels. I was cocked, locked, and ready to rock. I instantly had responses to their comments, and none of them were loving. I literally had to shut down the laptop and go play with Eli for a bit.
This really highlights the issue I have. I do not know where to begin. I have heard many arguments about this, and I really think that many of these issues are not worth fighting over. They are not worth splitting churches over. They're not worth "changing denominations" over, whatever that means.
I don't want to pick a fight. I don't want to cause division or strife. So then my inclination is to keep silent, keep my opinions to myself, since I know what will happen.
But at the same time, I want people to understand the same way I do. I don't need them to agree with me, I just want them to understand and accept that it's okay to disagree with one another sometimes, that we don't have to cause these huge conflicts over it, these huge rifts in the church and our faith over these things that in the long run aren't that serious of issues. I want to say all of these things and I want to be heard, and I want Christians to get along with one another.
Because that's really the first step, and if we can't do even that, then what the hell can we do?
wingnut
20 September 2008
Sacred Moments, or Nothing Will be the Same
I'm about halfway through the downwind leg for runway 14, pegged right on the pattern altitude at 1600 feet MSL when it hit me: I'm completely alone in this airplane. My instructor, an experienced pilot and teacher, was not there to backstop me. He was not there to talk me through a landing. He was not there to make sure I didn't forget anything in my mental checklist.
There comes a time in any student pilot's training that the instructor must stay on the ground, and allow the student to fly the aircraft without him. It is a momentous occasion in any student's training, and will be remembered for the rest of his or her life. The first solo flight is something that is remembered, celebrated, and looked forward to by all students. The hard work, the study, the endless hours aloft with the instructor, everything comes to a head on this one occasion.
For me, that moment had come less than five minutes before, when my instructor climbed out of his seat. I taxied the airplane back onto the ramp after a particularly grueling hour of practice with him. He had not said much all the way back from the practice area, merely saying, "Take me home. I'm done." He was polite like that.
So we flew in silence, him thinking God knows what, me questioning myself and my less than stellar performance. When we neared the field, I steeled myself for the onslaught that my tired, sloppy landing was sure to bring. Instead, he made me land twice before actually taxiing to the ramp. After the last landing, as we left the runway, he said, "Yep. I'm done. But you're not."
I knew instantly what was going to happen, even as I fished around in the backseat for my logbook. A few signatures and he was gone, walking back into the building as I gathered my thoughts for a minute. The engine was still running, and I gave it just a bit of throttle to begin moving.
The takeoff is burned into my mind. The runway stretching before me, the roar of the engine, the blur of the instrument panel as the airframe vibrates with the added power. I hear my own voice on the radio, but it seems detached from me, as if it's some other pilot on the frequency. The airplane leaps into the sky with my instructor's 150 pounds gone, and in no time I am at pattern altitude, on the downwind leg, watching the runway pass to my left, and looking at the empty seat next to me.
It is a significant moment for me. Looking back on it now, I can see that it was, in a way, the beginning of a new life: I have left the earth, in a machine controlled only by me. No one else, no computer, no cruise control, no radio control: just me and the machine, manipulating the laws of physics. I will never again be a slave to the ground. The weight of the moment was tremendous!
We all have moments like that in our lives. We all have moments that we know will change us forever. My pastor talked about his in his book. He volunteered to lead a worship service at a summer camp he was working, and was struck with the holiness of the moment. He recognized that this moment was special, that God was somehow very near to him then. He knew he wouldn't be the same afterwards.
I like to call these Sacred Moments. Moments where the veil that divides Heaven and Earth is pulled back, and we catch just a glimpse of God's amazingly huge Story, and our unique role within that story. Sometimes, during these moments, we can't help but feel His weight, His significance during the moment. Other times, the glance is more fleeting, and we don't realize until later what was really going on. These Sacred Moments can be good, but they can also be painfully terrible.
I remember having to speak at a youth retreat on the topic of being single. It was extremely awkward to give that speech, because I was going to be open and honest about how my heart was recently broken by a girl, and because my current girlfriend was attending the retreat as well. How do you give a talk on being single when you're not? It was just an awkward situation all around. But I gave the talk, and while I was talking, there was a guy sitting in the back just staring at me. I mean staring. His eyes were wide open, and his jaw hung slack as he watched my every move. I felt like I was from Mars the way he was watching me.
After my talk was done, and we had been dismissed, he came up to talk to me. He asked me if I had felt anything while I was talking. I said I felt kind of warm, but I'm shy and I was probably blushing. I asked him why that weird question. He said that while I was speaking, he saw an aura around me, bright white light all around. At one point, it looked like an angel had his hands on my shoulders. That's why he couldn't stop staring at me. There was a massive blue and white angel standing behind me. Even as I talked to him afterwards, he said he could still see it, blue and white and dancing above my head.
I'm smart enough not to think he was crazy. I had known him for quite a while, we had worked together on these retreats before. I knew he wasn't lying or making anything up. He really did see it, and it blew him away, because he had never seen one before. It was a beautiful Sacred Moment for both of us.
Sacred Moments can also be painful, like a certain Sunday morning when Shan and I were late for church. I hate being late, but something compelled us to get up and go. Something pushed us to go to church. That Sunday was the first day we actually faced the pain and brokenness of our miscarriages, and it was a horrendous, gut-wrenching, painful thing to do, to step into our wound like that. But I knew, and Shan knew, that God led us there, and was with us the entire time. It was a Sacred Moment.
When we hear stories of our Biblical heroes, we seldom make the connection to our own Sacred Moments. We tell ourselves that that was different. It's the Bible, obviously God is moving. But we're not living in a Bible story, we tell ourselves. Things like that don't happen today. We convince ourselves that God doesn't do that anymore. But we're reading these Bible stories with the benefit of hindsight. Like I said earlier, sometimes only when we look back can we see what God was doing in that moment. So for the writers, writing down the story after the event, some time has passed where the moment can be looked upon and considered, and God can be found.
But what did the people in those stories feel during the story? What did Moses feel on the way home after hearing God speak from a burning bush? When Jacob woke up the next morning after wrestling with the angel, what was going through his mind? When the disciples saw their first miracle, what were they thinking?
Were they overwhelmed with the weight of the moment? Were they in awe at the significance of what had just happened?
Did they feel the same way I felt when I was flying alone for the first time?
wingnut
There comes a time in any student pilot's training that the instructor must stay on the ground, and allow the student to fly the aircraft without him. It is a momentous occasion in any student's training, and will be remembered for the rest of his or her life. The first solo flight is something that is remembered, celebrated, and looked forward to by all students. The hard work, the study, the endless hours aloft with the instructor, everything comes to a head on this one occasion.
For me, that moment had come less than five minutes before, when my instructor climbed out of his seat. I taxied the airplane back onto the ramp after a particularly grueling hour of practice with him. He had not said much all the way back from the practice area, merely saying, "Take me home. I'm done." He was polite like that.
So we flew in silence, him thinking God knows what, me questioning myself and my less than stellar performance. When we neared the field, I steeled myself for the onslaught that my tired, sloppy landing was sure to bring. Instead, he made me land twice before actually taxiing to the ramp. After the last landing, as we left the runway, he said, "Yep. I'm done. But you're not."
I knew instantly what was going to happen, even as I fished around in the backseat for my logbook. A few signatures and he was gone, walking back into the building as I gathered my thoughts for a minute. The engine was still running, and I gave it just a bit of throttle to begin moving.
The takeoff is burned into my mind. The runway stretching before me, the roar of the engine, the blur of the instrument panel as the airframe vibrates with the added power. I hear my own voice on the radio, but it seems detached from me, as if it's some other pilot on the frequency. The airplane leaps into the sky with my instructor's 150 pounds gone, and in no time I am at pattern altitude, on the downwind leg, watching the runway pass to my left, and looking at the empty seat next to me.
It is a significant moment for me. Looking back on it now, I can see that it was, in a way, the beginning of a new life: I have left the earth, in a machine controlled only by me. No one else, no computer, no cruise control, no radio control: just me and the machine, manipulating the laws of physics. I will never again be a slave to the ground. The weight of the moment was tremendous!
We all have moments like that in our lives. We all have moments that we know will change us forever. My pastor talked about his in his book. He volunteered to lead a worship service at a summer camp he was working, and was struck with the holiness of the moment. He recognized that this moment was special, that God was somehow very near to him then. He knew he wouldn't be the same afterwards.
I like to call these Sacred Moments. Moments where the veil that divides Heaven and Earth is pulled back, and we catch just a glimpse of God's amazingly huge Story, and our unique role within that story. Sometimes, during these moments, we can't help but feel His weight, His significance during the moment. Other times, the glance is more fleeting, and we don't realize until later what was really going on. These Sacred Moments can be good, but they can also be painfully terrible.
I remember having to speak at a youth retreat on the topic of being single. It was extremely awkward to give that speech, because I was going to be open and honest about how my heart was recently broken by a girl, and because my current girlfriend was attending the retreat as well. How do you give a talk on being single when you're not? It was just an awkward situation all around. But I gave the talk, and while I was talking, there was a guy sitting in the back just staring at me. I mean staring. His eyes were wide open, and his jaw hung slack as he watched my every move. I felt like I was from Mars the way he was watching me.
After my talk was done, and we had been dismissed, he came up to talk to me. He asked me if I had felt anything while I was talking. I said I felt kind of warm, but I'm shy and I was probably blushing. I asked him why that weird question. He said that while I was speaking, he saw an aura around me, bright white light all around. At one point, it looked like an angel had his hands on my shoulders. That's why he couldn't stop staring at me. There was a massive blue and white angel standing behind me. Even as I talked to him afterwards, he said he could still see it, blue and white and dancing above my head.
I'm smart enough not to think he was crazy. I had known him for quite a while, we had worked together on these retreats before. I knew he wasn't lying or making anything up. He really did see it, and it blew him away, because he had never seen one before. It was a beautiful Sacred Moment for both of us.
Sacred Moments can also be painful, like a certain Sunday morning when Shan and I were late for church. I hate being late, but something compelled us to get up and go. Something pushed us to go to church. That Sunday was the first day we actually faced the pain and brokenness of our miscarriages, and it was a horrendous, gut-wrenching, painful thing to do, to step into our wound like that. But I knew, and Shan knew, that God led us there, and was with us the entire time. It was a Sacred Moment.
When we hear stories of our Biblical heroes, we seldom make the connection to our own Sacred Moments. We tell ourselves that that was different. It's the Bible, obviously God is moving. But we're not living in a Bible story, we tell ourselves. Things like that don't happen today. We convince ourselves that God doesn't do that anymore. But we're reading these Bible stories with the benefit of hindsight. Like I said earlier, sometimes only when we look back can we see what God was doing in that moment. So for the writers, writing down the story after the event, some time has passed where the moment can be looked upon and considered, and God can be found.
But what did the people in those stories feel during the story? What did Moses feel on the way home after hearing God speak from a burning bush? When Jacob woke up the next morning after wrestling with the angel, what was going through his mind? When the disciples saw their first miracle, what were they thinking?
Were they overwhelmed with the weight of the moment? Were they in awe at the significance of what had just happened?
Did they feel the same way I felt when I was flying alone for the first time?
wingnut
15 September 2008
Dear Reverend
Dear Reverend,
It deeply saddens me that your pompous attitude and arrogant manner will be associated with the loving message of Christ.
Watching you interact with us, the wedding party, this past weekend reminded me of a parable that a certain Jewish Rabbi told his followers about a man who was waylaid by robbers and then nursed back to health by an outcast.
Hearing your words during the incident was merely salt on the wound, as you calmly sidestepped (literally) the intrusion upon your carefully laid out ceremony. Seeing you not even put your Bible down to lend a hand as the bridesmaids and bride and groom helped her up off the ground made me question your ability to lead a group of believers of any size with any sort of compassion or mercy.
Hearing about the way you dismissed my wife and the other bridesmaid when they had a valid question about the service made me not want any part of your church or your "gospel".
Every interaction I have had with you, Reverend, has me convinced that if I were the one waylaid and left for dead on the side of the road, you would cross over to the other side.
I pray that I will not let my anger consume me, and I pray that your heart will soften to those who are not a part of your community.
sincerely,
wingnut
It deeply saddens me that your pompous attitude and arrogant manner will be associated with the loving message of Christ.
Watching you interact with us, the wedding party, this past weekend reminded me of a parable that a certain Jewish Rabbi told his followers about a man who was waylaid by robbers and then nursed back to health by an outcast.
Hearing your words during the incident was merely salt on the wound, as you calmly sidestepped (literally) the intrusion upon your carefully laid out ceremony. Seeing you not even put your Bible down to lend a hand as the bridesmaids and bride and groom helped her up off the ground made me question your ability to lead a group of believers of any size with any sort of compassion or mercy.
Hearing about the way you dismissed my wife and the other bridesmaid when they had a valid question about the service made me not want any part of your church or your "gospel".
Every interaction I have had with you, Reverend, has me convinced that if I were the one waylaid and left for dead on the side of the road, you would cross over to the other side.
I pray that I will not let my anger consume me, and I pray that your heart will soften to those who are not a part of your community.
sincerely,
wingnut
10 September 2008
Psalm 13
How long till You hear us?
Till You come back, we ain’t giving up
How long till You heal us?
Till you come back, we ain’t giving up
Love rise up
Hope rise up
How long till You free us?
Till You come back, we ain’t giving up
How long till You mend us?
Till You come back, we ain’t giving up
-Be Lifted or Hope Rising, David Crowder Band
We need You to come back. We need You to save us.
Save us from best friends with cancer.
Save us from sick pets.
Save us from great-uncles who have chosen to not receive treatment.
Save us from babies that never breathed.
Save us from drunk drivers and early funerals.
Save us from brothers that don't talk to each other.
wingnut
Till You come back, we ain’t giving up
How long till You heal us?
Till you come back, we ain’t giving up
Love rise up
Hope rise up
How long till You free us?
Till You come back, we ain’t giving up
How long till You mend us?
Till You come back, we ain’t giving up
-Be Lifted or Hope Rising, David Crowder Band
We need You to come back. We need You to save us.
Save us from best friends with cancer.
Save us from sick pets.
Save us from great-uncles who have chosen to not receive treatment.
Save us from babies that never breathed.
Save us from drunk drivers and early funerals.
Save us from brothers that don't talk to each other.
wingnut
08 September 2008
Mario
We gave it all we had.
We put you in your favorite spot.
You will be missed.
love,
Daddy, Mommy, Eli, and Moose
We put you in your favorite spot.
You will be missed.
love,
Daddy, Mommy, Eli, and Moose
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)