The Practices

OK, back to An Altar in the World. After the introduction Taylor introduces and explains practices that "... will help you see the red X under your feet. ...help you recognize... ordinary-looking places where human beings have met and may continue to meet up with the divine More that they sometimes call God." Although she says that you don't have to read them in any particular order, being a particularly boring person I am reading them start to finish. The first practice is The Practice of Waking Up to God.

She uses the story of Jacob to frame the discussion of where we find God. Jacob, while fleeing for his life, lays down with rock for a pillow, has a dream from God and recognizes the holiness of that place by making an altar and calling it Bethel. If you think about Jacob, waking up from the dream of angels going up and down a ladder, you have to marvel at the way he knew, right away and without a doubt, that God was in that place. He didn't need the tent or a tabernacle or any other "place" to have a life changing encounter with God. So why do we?

I have to wonder if it isn't our need to feel like we belong, like we have control. If we set up buildings and limits that we can see, feel, touch, understand... then we know exactly where we stand. Especially in comparison to those around us who don't "belong." Is that really what it is? Making myself feel better about my relationship with God by proving how much better it is than someone else's? And how can I even really know the quality of someone else's relationship with God?

The word that keeps coming to me in pondering those questions is control. So then, it seems the answer is to give up trying to have control and look around you. Be present where you are, but also wake up and see God where He is - everywhere. We have placed limits on the venues where we believe we will encounter God, but will removing the limits we have placed on God open our eyes and hearts, or is there more work to do there? How and when and where will I get to see those angels going up and down the ladder to heaven? If I simply open my heart and abandon my ideas of what that should look like will it just happen? I hope so...

Who Are We?

My community church is facing some big decisions in the very near future, and as can be expected, they have created a lot of conversation, both pro and con. That is normal and to be expected, and actually quite healthy. All this week though, I keep having this thought. It pops up when I least expect it, doing the dishes, when I was doing my hamster routine on the elliptical this morning, driving down "Manslaughter" Road.

The Parable of the Talents.

Usually I try to ignore that voice, but some would have me believe it might actually be God whispering in my ear. Yeah, right. Not MY ear. But on the off chance that they might be right I am going to re-post what was written after we studied that parable earlier this year, with a few additions. You will find the "old" material in italics, the new just plain. Even if you aren't involved in any way in the decisions I mentioned above, maybe this will be a good exercise for you, too. I hope so.

Here are a couple of questions I asked myself before re-reading the post, already having an idea of the content:

Who do I identify with most? Why?

Who do I want to be? Why?

If those two are different, how do I reconcile them and move from one to the other? And what impact does that have on our decisions? How do I decide? Out of fear, or out of faith, and if the answer is both then how do I balance them?


I have to confess that I was very unfocused this week, so the notes and this post will probably leave a lot to be desired. We studied the parable of The Talents. I have always struggled with this parable, but today I found a little different perspective, using some of the study techniques we have been applying in the past few sessions. I repeatedly found my mind wandering to consider what this parable reveals about the nature and kingdom of God.

I feel pretty certain you are familiar with the story of the master who gives three servants a sum of money to care for while he is gone. When he returns he calls them to account for the money, and while two of them have risked the money they have also doubled the amount through their investment. The third, out of fear, hid the money and returned the exact same amount he was given. At that the master throws him out as lazy and wicked. Really? In this economy I should be making risky investments? What happens if I lose it all? Clearly I identify more with the third servant than the master, how about you?

There are some pretty easy lessons to draw from this parable, but what does it tell us about the kingdom of God. For me the message this week is about relationships. The master knows his servants, gives to each according to his abilities and expects that they do their best. The first two servants work hard and take risks to further the interests of their master because why...? Do you work harder for someone you respect and trust? I know I do. But the third servant, in his preface, clearly shows that not only does he not trust his master to be just, he does not respect him.

If you read the version in Matthew 25:14-30 the master asks the first two servants to be his partner in The Message. The master invites them into a more intimate relationship. But the third servant, who fears and does not trust, is cast out. The master gave him a chance, but he did not respond.

The version in Luke 19:11-27 is similar but a little different in the details. The master is seeking to be made king, and despite the protest of the people he still becomes king. And then he puts the first two servants in charge of cities as rulers. I can't help wondering if that isn't a parallel to the Mustard Seed, implying that the kingdom of God will come no matter what. And when it does you better be ready, taking risks, working to further the kingdom, but most importantly trusting God to be just, not fair, just.

And in light of recent discussion I have to wonder if I haven't spent most of my life being so worried about hanging on to what I have that I have missed even dreaming about what I might have. Where does the courage to risk and act come from? I am not finding mine right now. Any thoughts?

Why Am I?

When I read the introduction to Barbara Brown Taylor's An Altar in the World, I had to wonder if she had been peeking inside my head. In one of the very first paragraphs of the introduction she verbalizes what I have been feeling as discomfort, my body itching in my own skin, a restlessness that I have not been able to name. In a discussion of the difference between being "religious" and "spiritual" she talks about a deep longing for more. Don't you feel it too? There has to be more to life, right? Isn't that what religion tells us? There is some deep, divine purpose to your life, and the purpose of religious rituals and formal beliefs is to help you along the path, to comprehend and appreciate that purpose.

There are a couple of premises underlying that understanding that may be part of my problem. First, I think that belief implies that without ritual and formal beliefs you can not understand God or your purpose. And from there you can infer that you need to understand your purpose in order for your life to have meaning. As I put those words on the page I hope that is not true, because if it is then Me=Fail. And now, trying to get out of the fail category, I am left wondering if that really is the message that my religion is sending, or is it simply the limitations that I have put on it based on my own personal framework and experiences?

Well, maybe part of the(my) problem is in the structured, institutional constraints that traditional, organized religion has placed on our understanding of God. I accepted that God, and relationship with God, had to occur in those holy settings that are described and proscribed in ritual and formal belief. How many times have you heard people talk about what worship should look like, how we should behave in church, what outreach should look like? It seems that we do have a collective, institutional understanding of holy, and that is what leaves me wanting more. I just don't feel it in those settings. I don't really care if my church has a traditional or a contemporary service because that is just a pattern for the act of worship, and it is the act that is important for me.

I am hopeful because it seems that what Taylor presents in this book is the idea that holiness happens in every day activities. It does not have constraints, we do. We simply need to open ourselves up to experiencing holiness by suspending our ossified beliefs about where and how encounters with God happen, and we will see. Maybe the only barrier to me being able to feel the "more" I have been longing for is... me.

Does Bad News Always Have to Come in Threes?

Friends, this is fair warning. If you even whisper to someone near me that you are having trouble with your colon and you don't do something about it, I will probably be forced to tackle and pummel you until you do. I have one relative who has just discontinued treatment as it is not working and the side effects are worse than the disease, a second who got pathology from surgery and it is not good news, and a third who is having surgery today.

Whatever your issue, take care of it, take the time to attend to the health of your body and stop being afraid. Be bold. I like the line from Pink's new song, "Have you ever looked fear in the face and said I just don't care?" Please.

On another note, our fearless leader gave me a book to read - An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor - and it is pretty good, thought provoking. I may begin some posts on it and invite you to comment and expand the discussion so stay tuned. And in the mean time, take care of you.