God in the second person

Recently a Baptist minister in North Carolina got into some trouble for allegedly telling members who did not vote for George Bush to repent or move on (or words to that effect). Today I read that a Lutheran pastor in Denmark was reinstated to the pulpit after being suspended for announcing he did not believe in God.

Seems to me there are plenty of people who view God as "other" or transcendent, or even doubt his existence at all. When they mention God, he is completely third person, so far away, so distant. I'm not really thinking about agnostics, or those who sincerely struggle with faith. That's one thing. But to be a minister, a pastor, called to lead others and to declare God is not existent, I just don't get it. Wouldn't that faith, or lack thereof, lead one to a little bit different vocation?

And of course America is not exempt from it's share of fundamentalists who speak for God in the first person. When I lived in Orlando years back, I remember Pat Robertson saying God would punish us with a hurricane because Disney celebrated gay days and we had gay pride flags in the city. Who can forget Randall Terry? And of course Fred Phelps in Kansas, protesting at funerals of gays with signs declaring "God hates fags." They speak for God?

Seems to me there is a place somewhere for seeking God in the second person. Where one doesn't banish God to the purgatory of non existence and smugly claim to know in fact there is no God. Just how does one know that? Where we are not afraid to say we are related to God, instead of avoiding all mention of him like he's our embarrassing, drunken Uncle Sal.

Yet in this place we don't pretend we are God, or mold him into our own image. A place where we don't follow our polarizing passions and declare anyone with a different opinion to be ungodly.

Wouldn't it be grand to seek God for who he is, neither jumping to the conclusion that he is not (since of course we know all) nor jumping to whims that since I met him once I can speak for him. Wouldn't it be better if we take the time to listen, to listen for God even in the people we don't agree with? Hear what the doubters or agnostics say? Try to understand Taoists, Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, Democrats, Republicans, or those few that are in between.

"Lord, help me to not dismiss you and relegate you to a dusty bookshelf like an old high school yearbook. Help me not to only remember you like a distant memory of a love I once lost. Yet help me not to think we are so familiar, so close that I can wear your clothes and miserably attempt to walk in your shoes. Lord, help me to seek you, to sit with you, to share my pain and life, and most of all, to listen. And help me to listen to your voice and see your eyes in new places I never knew you could be."

Does it matter?

This is the post that almost wasn't. The thoughts came to me this morning during meditation in my woods, but when time came to write I thought, "Aaah, what does it matter?" Seriously though, I have been thinking about life, things and what really matters over the last couple weeks.

Two things have got me thinking about this. First, I read a thought from Theophan the Recluse (by way of an anthology of "Merton and Hesychasm"). His idea is, everything we do and think, we must approach as secondary. There is only one thing that is primary, and that is unceasing prayer, or in the Orthodox tradition, the Jesus prayer. Our lives must be in perspective of that relationship. If we view everything as secondary to the main thing, it will go well with us. The second thing that brought this home to me, is my health. I'm only 45, but I feel like I'm 90 most days lately. My migraines are getting more frequent, and I'm taking medication for them a couple times a week. My digestive system problems are getting so out of control, I don't ever want to eat out anymore for fear of upsetting my stomach. My energy level continues to drop, so my running has followed into the drain. And lest I forget, I still take beta-blockers every day on the doctors theory that my enlarged aortic root may lead to an aortic dissection. Finally, I have an 18 year old son in jail waiting to be released soon we hope, and a 15 year old bipolar son that still has us on eggshells most of the time.

I feel spiritually bipolar myself on occasion. At any one moment, at liturgy, or in prayer, in solitude or silence, I seem to be at peace. Within seconds someone is having a crisis in the house, or I wake up to that dull pain in my neck loomer larger towards a migraine, or I'm running to the restroom. I guess some would think my health is stress related, and it may be. But I really don't "feel" stressed out. I think I have pretty good coping mechanisms in place. Number one of which has become, asking myself "does it matter?"

Of course, all these things in life matter. Family, friends, job, all of these are important. But I must bring myself back to that center and ask what really matters. And, as Theophan points out, God matters. This isn't some serenity prayer etched on a cheap cypress plaque, or the footprints story laminated on a bookmark. It's about really understanding how vitally important prayer is. Prayer is, in a big way, everything. Prayer is a relationship, it is the relationship. It is living in the awareness of the Almighty. It is being attuned to a reality beyond what I see, hear or feel. Prayer is my union with God, that will last beyond all circumstance, beyond all pain, and beyond all health or lack thereof.

Last Saturday I went to a seminar on Spirituality and the Psalms. One of the points made was from a book on the Psalms by a Protestant scholar. He made the case that the 5 books in the Psalms are not randomly arranged; there is a progression in them. To find the meaning of this progression, one must look at the "seams", the Psalms that end and start each of the 5 sections. Psalm 73 begins book 3. In this Psalm, the author reveals his feet had almost slipped, he nearly lost his foothold. This came about by his taking his eyes off reality, and placing them on the illusion of life in this world. There are those who always seem to be at ease, healthy, prosperous and succesful yet they are arrogant. In the end, the Psalmist realizes "whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you."

So I remind myself day by day, moment by moment, of what really matters. I remind myself constantly and consistently in the Jesus prayer, that reality is knowing God. And while things in life may seem to be going completely against anything I can control, and entirely opposing peace and love, the ultimate reality that matters is that of God and myself.

Abba Alonius said "if a man does not say in his heart 'in the world there is only myself and God', he will not gain peace."

Passion and Stillness

Reading a verse from Proverbs a couple weeks ago has me thinking about something. "A tranquil mind gives life to the flesh, but passion makes the bones rot." Prov 14:30 Passion could be another word for flesh that Paul uses often in the New Testament. Or as more modern versions translate: the sinful nature. The idea behind all these, is that in our human nature there is a desire for sin. Sin is basically separation from God. So the passions: pride, greed, lust, anger, slothfulness, gluttony, jealousy; war against what is in us to make us more Christlike.

What I've been thinking about is if the passions are the sinful expressions of our human nature, what is the opposite virtue to focus on? Passion is a strong desire, and in this sense, a desire for other than God. At first I thought the spirit is the opposite, but I'm not sure. Or possibly dispassion of course, but what exactly is that?

Then I remembered a term used often in monastic language, and even in the Psalms: stillness. "Be still before the Lord, and wait silently for Him." "Be still and know that I am God." Abba Arsenius had a rule for his life: Be still, be silent, be at peace.

So just what is stillness? To me, it is an inner silence, a silence of not only hearing, but all the senses, all the passions. Silence and solitude are not an end in themselves. They exist only to bring us to the point of stillness. It is there, when we are quiet both inwardly and outwardly, that we can hear that still small voice of God. Of course, I'm not referring to an audible voice. Or even loopy ideas that pop into our head from too much pizza late the night before. But simply the voice of God calling us closer to himself. A voice without words, without even thoughts, and more importantly (as most real mystics point out) beyond emotion or feeling.

Stillness, unfortunately for our modern age, cannot be bought or obtained easily. There is no 40 days of purpose to find it. There are no conferences and radio stations blaring it's virtue. There is only one way, the way Christ showed us. And that is by consistent time alone with God in prayer. Not armed with bibles, concordances, and books, but with the only thing we need: a contrite, humble heart that will patiently wait for Him.

Simeon and Anna from the New Testament were a part of a group known as "the quiet in the land." They patiently were waiting for the manifestation of the kingdom of God. Dutifully, they ministered, worshipped, and waited. I'm not sure how exactly they did it, but they must have obtained stillness. (Surely they didn't have all the worldy noise and distraction we have today). Finally, they were both rewarded with seeing the Kingdom of God come in their time.

What a model for us today. Are I willing to devote such time and energy to simply waiting on God in stillness?

Pathway to Purpose: Peace

"These things I have spoken to you so that in me you may peace. In the world, you will have tribulation. But be of good cheer: I have overcome the world." John 16:33

I used to think two things about peace that I have come to realize were incorrect. The first, was that peace is a state without conflict, without trial, without pain or tribulation. Peace I thought was sitting in my woods alone with my thoughts, on a perfect day, in silence and solitude, without distraction. I now realize without tribulation, without conflict or trial, there can be no real peace. Peace is not the absence of conflict, it is an enduring quality of victory over conflict, of having the peace of God (the knowledge of his love and presence) with me in the midst of trial.

In this passage, Jesus refers to that very concept. He is about to go to his crucifixion. He will be tortured, abandoned, ridiculed, persecuted and finally killed. He is alluding to his disciples that their lives will not be without tribulation either. Real peace isn't avoiding this tribulation, it is overcoming it. Our physical muscles only grow stronger by opposition. In exercise, we challenge our bodies to resist. If we are successful, we grow stronger. To train for a marathon, one forces the body to run past the point of pain. So it is with our spirit. However in the spiritual realm, we don't fight back in the same way. We rest in the peace that Christ gives us: the peace of the awareness of his presence.

My second misconception was that peace is a final destination. However I've learned this peace, while overcoming the world and all the trials and pain it can throw at us, is not a permanent state of being here on earth. We don't stop facing the pain, the tribulation, the dirty work that faces us as spiritual people. Jesus Christ, as the second person of the Godhead, emptied himself (kenosis) to live the incarnation among us so that we too can find real peace and life. Even in the Buddhist tradition, from what little I know about it, the goal of a bodhisattva (one who is enlightened) is to seek enlightenment not just for oneself, but for all.

Again as I journey towards finding purpose in life, and seeking a resting place, I come across another pathway. One that I must take and travel through, and one that I must take with me. Real peace is knowing God: it is mindfulness, being aware of his loving presence at all times. (Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace who's mind is stayed on thee, because he trusts in thee. Isaiah 26:3). It is not avoiding suffering, it is experiencing it and sharing it with the rest of humanity. It is not the absence of suffering, it is the realization that Christ overcame it, and through his power, so will I.

And so in my own life I seek to acquire inner peace, or allow it to acquire me. As I do, somehow peace will come to others.

7 things I'm grateful for

God's word. Where would I be without it? "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path...O how I love your word! I meditate on it all day long...Trouble and distress have come upon me,but your commands are my delight." Too much to list here, just read Psalm 119.

The Holy Spirit. "God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth." Jn 4:24. God's word is our truth, and we must be attuned to the spiritual life to fully realize what we have in Christ.

Faith. "For by grace you have been saved by faith." Thank God for allowing me the eyes to see, and the ears to hear his love and life.

Love. How deep and wide and immeasurable is God's love for me. Words cannot describe.

Life. "I have come that they might have life, and have it more abundantly." Jn 10:10

Peace. "Great peace have they who love thy law, and nothing can make them stumble." Ps 119 "And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Phil 4:7 "Thou will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusts in thee." Is 26:3.

Prayer. What a privilege that our awesome creator, Lord and savior, invites us moment by moment to be with Him!