Once again I've become convinced that God can be easily found at the beach - any beach, especially early in the morning and just before the sun goes down at night. At other times God is definitely here, but, ah, there are too many distractions! We are at our annual Hilton Head family vacation this first week of June 2005. The whole family is here. Though we thought this year may be a bit sad because of the obvious absence of my father after his death at the end of June last summer, it has been an amazingly calm emotional time. Dad has been mentioned, but only with fond memories and without tears or sadness. It was dad who decided that our family needed to have a rallying point each year for a get together. As a result he bought a timeshare with Marriott here at Hilton Head. This is our ninth year of coming to the beach this first week of June. Since that first crowded year - 22 people trying to fit into a 2 bedroom condo. We vied for days we could be here, each of us wanting the most possible time with the most people possible. Dad bought another unit the next year. Last year mom purchased yet another one. Now we have 3 two bedroom units all in the same week. It's much more comfortable now!
As we gather each year we enjoy each other and the ocean. Each family cooks one night of the week - and tries to out-do each other with what we prepare and serve. We eat very well while here! Stuffing our faces each evening is balanced with time exercising, playing, and relaxing.
It seems that not only is God found in the waves, the surf, the sand, and the old growth oaks that canopy the roads and bike paths, but God is also found in family, in community. Combine the two elements and utopia is present!
My soul is being refreshed this week. My my mom, my brother, his wife and I are all reading great books about God and the church. Mom just finished Blue Like Jazz. Paul and Terri are reading A Generous Orthodoxy, and I am reading a few books by Capon - one of which is on the parables. All have sparked great conversations that seem very appropriate in this setting. It seems that while here, surrounded by the presence of God in nature, we are all able to see God in new light and explore communal expressions of God's presence in new ways - ecclesia - church. It's been fun. I pray that we will continue to grow in grace, truth, and soul satisfaction this week!
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Unfinished....
I suppose McLaren is not the first to end his book A Generous Orthodoxy with the word "and," but it is the first one I have read that ended that way. In doing so he apply illustrates that our "becoming" as people of God and our knowledge of God is never finished, we are always in process. I have been looking forward to reading this book for quite awhile. I plucked it off of the floor of my office out of the line of books waiting to be read. Since shelf space is full, books fresh from Amazon.com are unpacked, embossed with my book seal, and are placed in line at my feet. The collection currently forms two lines on the floor near my desk. This summer I hope to move some little referenced titles to my home shelves, getting these treasures off of the floor. I also hope to read most of them, adding them to the read and marked titles on my shelves.
In A Generous Orthodoxy I have found words for much of my thinking over the past few years. However, McLaren often takes my thoughts to the next level, pushing me toward a more complete understanding and application of grace in this post-modern and emerging society of which we find ourselves apart. My wife keeps cautioning me not to use the word "postmodern" because of the negative press it has received in my tribe - southern Baptists. In part I understand the fear that my colleagues have when hearing the word - it implies a loss of all that has been held dear, that has been found to be true, and that has been fought for, defended and won over the past few years. For some it implies sleeping with the enemy. For others it implies a return to the fast flowing liberal rivers of uncontrollable thought and progress that our American society seems to be advocating. I understand their fear.
An avid road cyclist, I have recently begun mountain biking in order to ride with my 7 year old son. Road biking is comfortable for me. Yes, passing cars and trucks can be scary. But I understand it. I can see the potential hazards ahead. I know the challenges. I know the process. But riding in the woods and on trails of rocks and roots is not so simple or comfortable. Traveling at 20 miles per hour is a normal pace on a paved road, but in the woods, over rocks, down hills and into streams that same speed is terrifying! I finished my first ride on the local Heritage Park trail with forearms cramped with pain from griping my handle bars and breaks. I was petrified for most of the ride. It only makes since logically that when bouncing along a rough road with unseen turns, drops, bumps and other obstacles one should maintain a tight grip on ones ride. I am learning, however, that the opposite is true. To successfully navigate a trail, one must ride relaxed, maintaining balance over the bike, but loosening one's grip on the bars, rising slightly in the saddle (seat), and letting the bike do the work. It's a scary proposition, but it works. Riding like this allows the bike to shimmy and bounce all over the trail. But the shocks and the tires take the beating, while balance is maintained, and the trill and exhilaration of the ride can be experienced. I've fallen much less and enjoyed the rides much more practicing this seemingly contradictory way of biking and of "faithing." For I've found that practicing faith in this postmodern world is similar to riding the trails. I have a firm grasp on the bible and on my faith. I've read and digested several systematic theologies. I understand the practice of Christian Ethics. But I have found that in this changing word approaching the practice of my faith as one who has all of the answers, who knows all of the right ways of doing things, who holds the secrets to the heart of God is only going to give me cramping muscles and a sore body from falling quite often. I need to allow my faith to do the work while I navigate this newly emerging world I live in. If I approach it with my head instead of my heart I'm going to be constantly frustrated. Faith is a process.... Acknowledging that I don't have all of the answers to the changing questions of this era is a good thing, an essential thing. Walking through life alongside both believers and nonbelievers of the Gospel is essential for my faith and to give us all a chance to grow and learn and become the folks God wants us to be. I cannot grow while remaining tightly bound by my little box of faith. I must release it from it's container and let God grow it in dialogue with others, with continued reading of the Bible, and with constant practice in all areas of life. To do so is the become comfortable with a lives we all live that end as McLaren's book with a never complete, never final, and....
In A Generous Orthodoxy I have found words for much of my thinking over the past few years. However, McLaren often takes my thoughts to the next level, pushing me toward a more complete understanding and application of grace in this post-modern and emerging society of which we find ourselves apart. My wife keeps cautioning me not to use the word "postmodern" because of the negative press it has received in my tribe - southern Baptists. In part I understand the fear that my colleagues have when hearing the word - it implies a loss of all that has been held dear, that has been found to be true, and that has been fought for, defended and won over the past few years. For some it implies sleeping with the enemy. For others it implies a return to the fast flowing liberal rivers of uncontrollable thought and progress that our American society seems to be advocating. I understand their fear.
An avid road cyclist, I have recently begun mountain biking in order to ride with my 7 year old son. Road biking is comfortable for me. Yes, passing cars and trucks can be scary. But I understand it. I can see the potential hazards ahead. I know the challenges. I know the process. But riding in the woods and on trails of rocks and roots is not so simple or comfortable. Traveling at 20 miles per hour is a normal pace on a paved road, but in the woods, over rocks, down hills and into streams that same speed is terrifying! I finished my first ride on the local Heritage Park trail with forearms cramped with pain from griping my handle bars and breaks. I was petrified for most of the ride. It only makes since logically that when bouncing along a rough road with unseen turns, drops, bumps and other obstacles one should maintain a tight grip on ones ride. I am learning, however, that the opposite is true. To successfully navigate a trail, one must ride relaxed, maintaining balance over the bike, but loosening one's grip on the bars, rising slightly in the saddle (seat), and letting the bike do the work. It's a scary proposition, but it works. Riding like this allows the bike to shimmy and bounce all over the trail. But the shocks and the tires take the beating, while balance is maintained, and the trill and exhilaration of the ride can be experienced. I've fallen much less and enjoyed the rides much more practicing this seemingly contradictory way of biking and of "faithing." For I've found that practicing faith in this postmodern world is similar to riding the trails. I have a firm grasp on the bible and on my faith. I've read and digested several systematic theologies. I understand the practice of Christian Ethics. But I have found that in this changing word approaching the practice of my faith as one who has all of the answers, who knows all of the right ways of doing things, who holds the secrets to the heart of God is only going to give me cramping muscles and a sore body from falling quite often. I need to allow my faith to do the work while I navigate this newly emerging world I live in. If I approach it with my head instead of my heart I'm going to be constantly frustrated. Faith is a process.... Acknowledging that I don't have all of the answers to the changing questions of this era is a good thing, an essential thing. Walking through life alongside both believers and nonbelievers of the Gospel is essential for my faith and to give us all a chance to grow and learn and become the folks God wants us to be. I cannot grow while remaining tightly bound by my little box of faith. I must release it from it's container and let God grow it in dialogue with others, with continued reading of the Bible, and with constant practice in all areas of life. To do so is the become comfortable with a lives we all live that end as McLaren's book with a never complete, never final, and....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)