About 3 weeks ago, I was walking home after visiting a sick friend of mine. I was walking home and I passed a heap of a man lying on the side of the road in the twilight – dark & unmoving.
There was no way I could avoid this guy because I had to pass him to get to my house. Anyway, I passed him and went inside because the dinner hour was nearing. I asked my wife about the man who looked like he was dead on the roadside and she said he had been lying there for a number of hours. She said all that had happened was that when the neighbours, whose grass he had been lying on returned home, they had beeped their horn loudly at him, then wound down their window - commanding him to move on ! He didn’t move.
It took another half-an-hour but eventually I was standing in close proximity to this unmoving figure of a man. His hair was overgrown & mattered, his face darkened by dirt and grime – his clothes unspeakable in their filth. I had a friend with me who could speak good Indonesian. I felt safe. He tried for a number of minutes to find out the unmoving guy’s need, but all he got from him was incomprehensible grunts. Finally we asked a passing local who this guy was and he said, ‘orang gila’ – a crazy person.
Standing before this guy who was unable to speak – lying before me unmoving – in a culture I am only beginning to understand was unnerving. I felt out of my depth – even a little annoyed because it was dinner-time and in my family dominated by the routine of little kids – I was currently the absent Father.
I stood and looked at this vulnerable and unmoving guy, wondering what to do. I stood & stared and chatted about the options with my friend then finally I went back home. Dinner was finished so I related the story to my wife in the kitchen. Ever practical, she asked me, “What are you going to do ?” In the absence of connectedness to this culture or ringing up for the help of some charitable or government agency, I was left with only one option - the concrete action !
I said, “I am going to take him some food”. So I did ! I walked out into the darkness and shortly after I was standing again alone before the darkened figure of the unmoving man. I was struck in those moments by a remembrance of Mt 25 and Jesus saying, “When you do this to the least of these… you do it to me !” It struck me that here in this moment I was standing at the feet of Jesus and this one before me, felt like a stranger. Yet there was something more damning ! My actions on behalf of his needs felt equally strange and unfamiliar. I was standing at the feet of Jesus and I did not know this one before me. I felt ashamed.
Feeling chastised and humbled by the moment, I crouched down and said softly, “I have some food & drink for you... I will pray for you also.” I said a short silent prayer over him then I stood up, turned and walked back into my house. In the morning, I went out to the curb-side to see what had happened to the man & he was gone.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Sons of the Name
There is a small verse in Genesis 4, which appears between the beginnings of civilisation & the ending of the Flood that says, ‘At that time people began to invoke the name of the Lord’. That means they invoked the name of the One who is wholly Other.
However by the time of the story of the Tower of Babel the world had turned. This is now the story of the Sons of Shem, or the people of the name, who had ‘one language & the same words’. After the flood, they migrated east to a great plain of Shinar & settled there. Three times the Sons of Shem say among themselves ‘Let us’. ‘‘Let us’ brick some bricks’, ‘‘let us’ build a city and a tower’ and ‘‘let us’ make a name for ourselves’.
What the Sons of the name did made good sense – it was reasonable. Reality dictated that unless they erected a protective structure of order and were very intentional about that, they would be overwhelmed with that most fundamental terror – chaos. The Sons of the name feared they would be dispersed over the face of the earth.
Hesenberg’s principle says, ‘The act of observing a phenomena changes it’. God descends to see the city and the tower that the Sons of the name have built. God descends and God sees. Wholly otherness draws near & things are no longer the same. God discerns a singular people, with a singular language - building an empire of the sun. A self-centred universe is the growing intention of the Sons of Shem.
So God acts to confound these plans of men. He descends & his arrival is a speech act. God speaks and the irony of the Sons of the name becomes evident. These men with their singular language do not understand the speaking of the Name of the One who is wholly other – Babel means both ‘Father God’ in oriental languages and ‘confusion’ in Hebrew.
In the Bible truly hearing the name of God equals obeying his commands. In misunderstanding, in not being open to translating God’s name, the fear of the Sons of the name is realised. The speaking of the Name of the One who is Wholly Other releases a great diversity of languages onto the Sons of the Name and they can no longer build their city.
The people of Babel - City of Confusion - are dispersed over the face of the earth.
The Sons of Shem are the forefathers of Abraham. They are now truly the deconstructed people of the Name, wanderers whose very survival will depend upon their sensitivity & hospitality towards the wholly Other.
However by the time of the story of the Tower of Babel the world had turned. This is now the story of the Sons of Shem, or the people of the name, who had ‘one language & the same words’. After the flood, they migrated east to a great plain of Shinar & settled there. Three times the Sons of Shem say among themselves ‘Let us’. ‘‘Let us’ brick some bricks’, ‘‘let us’ build a city and a tower’ and ‘‘let us’ make a name for ourselves’.
What the Sons of the name did made good sense – it was reasonable. Reality dictated that unless they erected a protective structure of order and were very intentional about that, they would be overwhelmed with that most fundamental terror – chaos. The Sons of the name feared they would be dispersed over the face of the earth.
Hesenberg’s principle says, ‘The act of observing a phenomena changes it’. God descends to see the city and the tower that the Sons of the name have built. God descends and God sees. Wholly otherness draws near & things are no longer the same. God discerns a singular people, with a singular language - building an empire of the sun. A self-centred universe is the growing intention of the Sons of Shem.
So God acts to confound these plans of men. He descends & his arrival is a speech act. God speaks and the irony of the Sons of the name becomes evident. These men with their singular language do not understand the speaking of the Name of the One who is wholly other – Babel means both ‘Father God’ in oriental languages and ‘confusion’ in Hebrew.
In the Bible truly hearing the name of God equals obeying his commands. In misunderstanding, in not being open to translating God’s name, the fear of the Sons of the name is realised. The speaking of the Name of the One who is Wholly Other releases a great diversity of languages onto the Sons of the Name and they can no longer build their city.
The people of Babel - City of Confusion - are dispersed over the face of the earth.
The Sons of Shem are the forefathers of Abraham. They are now truly the deconstructed people of the Name, wanderers whose very survival will depend upon their sensitivity & hospitality towards the wholly Other.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Name Calling III
The calling of a name bids a particular other into close proximity to the one calling.
Isaiah 30 speaks of the name of the Lord coming from an unbounded place and he is intense and awful in his coming. The Holy Name of the One – his appearing is described as a speech act. His nostrils burning, thick clouds arising, his lips boiling over with rage. ‘Who is this one who comes ? I do not know him !’ His tongue is like a devouring fire & when His breath reaches me, it overwhelms like an overflowing stream reaching up to the neck ! There is nothing gentle in this speech act. ‘Under the whole heaven he lets it loose & his lightening to the corners of the earth’. This is violence, annihilating consummation – a radical discontinuity, dust & ashes.
My mistake is that I mostly think of God in equilibrium – omni this & omni that. There is power certainly but it is mostly benevolent, expended on behalf of mercy, grace & forgiveness. I rely on that God. Yet this One who comes from beyond the margin of the boundless is perilous and unpredictable. He leaves me feeling anxious but He certainly has my attention. If the Empire of the Same is about to be broken open by something wholly Other, I would rather be overwhelmed by God dangerous and creative – with an angry heart of compassion, the very pain of God - than whimsical, capricious chaos.
The Psalmist says God raises ‘the poor from the dust & lifts the needy from the ash heap’. That is because when he comes in anger, breaking out on behalf of His justice – that is all that is left – dust and ashes. The wonder of it is that the other others are not consumed.
When I am overwhelmed with trouble I am often silent & inactive in equal measure. I retreat inwards, waiting for the equilibrium to return. Yet when oppression births injustice, God breaks forth and his voice is majestic and heard, indeed his nostrils, lips, tongue and breath quiver with his purifying, terrible activity.
I think the thing I react to most is that this is not a God I am familiar with – Yahweh – God of righteousness & justice – totally Other breaking out in Holy bedlam !
That I may stand in the presence of God like one before the blast furnace and survive it. To rise up from the dust & the ashes – penitent, poor and needy - surely that is newness & wonder & resurrection. Outwards & downwards !
Isaiah 30 speaks of the name of the Lord coming from an unbounded place and he is intense and awful in his coming. The Holy Name of the One – his appearing is described as a speech act. His nostrils burning, thick clouds arising, his lips boiling over with rage. ‘Who is this one who comes ? I do not know him !’ His tongue is like a devouring fire & when His breath reaches me, it overwhelms like an overflowing stream reaching up to the neck ! There is nothing gentle in this speech act. ‘Under the whole heaven he lets it loose & his lightening to the corners of the earth’. This is violence, annihilating consummation – a radical discontinuity, dust & ashes.
My mistake is that I mostly think of God in equilibrium – omni this & omni that. There is power certainly but it is mostly benevolent, expended on behalf of mercy, grace & forgiveness. I rely on that God. Yet this One who comes from beyond the margin of the boundless is perilous and unpredictable. He leaves me feeling anxious but He certainly has my attention. If the Empire of the Same is about to be broken open by something wholly Other, I would rather be overwhelmed by God dangerous and creative – with an angry heart of compassion, the very pain of God - than whimsical, capricious chaos.
The Psalmist says God raises ‘the poor from the dust & lifts the needy from the ash heap’. That is because when he comes in anger, breaking out on behalf of His justice – that is all that is left – dust and ashes. The wonder of it is that the other others are not consumed.
When I am overwhelmed with trouble I am often silent & inactive in equal measure. I retreat inwards, waiting for the equilibrium to return. Yet when oppression births injustice, God breaks forth and his voice is majestic and heard, indeed his nostrils, lips, tongue and breath quiver with his purifying, terrible activity.
I think the thing I react to most is that this is not a God I am familiar with – Yahweh – God of righteousness & justice – totally Other breaking out in Holy bedlam !
That I may stand in the presence of God like one before the blast furnace and survive it. To rise up from the dust & the ashes – penitent, poor and needy - surely that is newness & wonder & resurrection. Outwards & downwards !
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Spirit Resonance...
The lite touch of God’s glory in the world is like the unexpected arrival of rain. Suddenly, leaves are dipping involuntarily in asymmetrical acknowledgement of its presence – a persistent shower giving lustre to the world & heightening awareness.
The Psalmist says that, “day after day pours forth speech and night after night declares knowledge… of the glory of God - yet there is no speech nor are there words…” While the lite touch of God’s glory is ever present, the sense of its arrival is always subtle. It builds in degrees, inhabiting the peripheral of vision or the graduated silences out on the edges of constant noise.
That our vision and hearing are dim to its arrival is witness to our routines of busyness and distraction.
That the activity of God’s glory in the world shapes our daily situation is beyond question. Glory lends intention to secret acts of mercy and kindness. Glory intensifies hope and endurance when the real is all too abrasive & unfriendly, Glory makes forgiveness the unthinkable possibility that dances in the midst of a hurting relationship At its most compelling the Glory of God ignites a passion for justice that burns & is vigilant, restless & creative.
When the dipping dance of the leaves ceases, the enduring effect of rained out rain is that cleansing wetness that soaks into every crack & crevice – absorbed into pores of everything it touches.
Drips hanging like jewels are the multitude of mundane moments touched by the finger of God.
The Psalmist says that, “day after day pours forth speech and night after night declares knowledge… of the glory of God - yet there is no speech nor are there words…” While the lite touch of God’s glory is ever present, the sense of its arrival is always subtle. It builds in degrees, inhabiting the peripheral of vision or the graduated silences out on the edges of constant noise.
That our vision and hearing are dim to its arrival is witness to our routines of busyness and distraction.
That the activity of God’s glory in the world shapes our daily situation is beyond question. Glory lends intention to secret acts of mercy and kindness. Glory intensifies hope and endurance when the real is all too abrasive & unfriendly, Glory makes forgiveness the unthinkable possibility that dances in the midst of a hurting relationship At its most compelling the Glory of God ignites a passion for justice that burns & is vigilant, restless & creative.
When the dipping dance of the leaves ceases, the enduring effect of rained out rain is that cleansing wetness that soaks into every crack & crevice – absorbed into pores of everything it touches.
Drips hanging like jewels are the multitude of mundane moments touched by the finger of God.
Name Calling II
The calling of a name identifies a particular other. It focuses attention & begins conversation. The calling of a name initiates movement in a particular direction.
To be immersed in the focused speaking of a name, a discordant cacophony of a multitude speaking as a community. To be immersed is to stand and let a unique bounded moment unfold around you.
The other evening was the first night of Idul Fitri – an all night of muslim prayer marking the end of the fasting month.
I was standing on a roof - in the anonymity of the night. Here & there the mere suggestion of shapes & surfaces marked my particular place in the world but my hearing told me otherwise. I was immersed in a uniquely bounded moment of a tremendous speech act, a multitudinous calling of the name of the One. From the front, now behind, to the side, the other side… an unbroken multi-vocal charge of different utterances converging, rising to crescendo then falling again… a creative gaggle of voices congregating around the speaking of the name of the One.
Yet there is a contrast, another speech act. It is the unending calling forth of my name by the One. It is a creative utterance that is uniquely unbounded - a self-involving moment. It calls me out from the anonymity of the night & into a world of light and encounter with particular others. It calls me to become familiar with the cadences of particular voices, engaging in a particular situation, immersed in particular stories.
Like the smoke of burning leaves that is a barb to my eyes or the pungent sickly smell of rotting garbage that taunts my nostrils. To be immersed in the speech act with particular others begins in speaking words with little meaning, the sounding of which is harsh and unfamiliar. To remain in the creative gaggle of continuing conversation in context after different context etches out a new space of meaning shared. I am shaped & held by the words and the stories of particular others. The stretch of it building & intensifying my presence in the world & my relation to the One.
To be immersed in the focused speaking of a name, a discordant cacophony of a multitude speaking as a community. To be immersed is to stand and let a unique bounded moment unfold around you.
The other evening was the first night of Idul Fitri – an all night of muslim prayer marking the end of the fasting month.
I was standing on a roof - in the anonymity of the night. Here & there the mere suggestion of shapes & surfaces marked my particular place in the world but my hearing told me otherwise. I was immersed in a uniquely bounded moment of a tremendous speech act, a multitudinous calling of the name of the One. From the front, now behind, to the side, the other side… an unbroken multi-vocal charge of different utterances converging, rising to crescendo then falling again… a creative gaggle of voices congregating around the speaking of the name of the One.
Yet there is a contrast, another speech act. It is the unending calling forth of my name by the One. It is a creative utterance that is uniquely unbounded - a self-involving moment. It calls me out from the anonymity of the night & into a world of light and encounter with particular others. It calls me to become familiar with the cadences of particular voices, engaging in a particular situation, immersed in particular stories.
Like the smoke of burning leaves that is a barb to my eyes or the pungent sickly smell of rotting garbage that taunts my nostrils. To be immersed in the speech act with particular others begins in speaking words with little meaning, the sounding of which is harsh and unfamiliar. To remain in the creative gaggle of continuing conversation in context after different context etches out a new space of meaning shared. I am shaped & held by the words and the stories of particular others. The stretch of it building & intensifying my presence in the world & my relation to the One.
Name Calling I
To get the voices of the many to converge around the speaking of the name of the One you would expect a unity - a singularity of purpose, a focus around a multi-vocal locus of praise. Yet the sound of it is certainly not Bach, not even within coo wee of a triumphant Hallelujah chorus. When I stand on my roof & hear the voices of the many from the mosques in every direction, the sound of it is diverse & discordant, rich in texture, uneven in rhythm… even time displacing.
It is like an unbounded moment when all that have ever spoken the name of the One are concentrated & focused into a particular now. It holds me in silence & wonder out on the edge of the realm of sameness and the unbounded world of the Holy Other.
It is like an unbounded moment when all that have ever spoken the name of the One are concentrated & focused into a particular now. It holds me in silence & wonder out on the edge of the realm of sameness and the unbounded world of the Holy Other.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Bau WoW Sunday...
It’s a Sunday ! In my psyche it is the one day of the week, God marked with the rhythm of a holy space… to sense again the lite touch of His glory on the familiar.
Right now I feel like I am sitting on the edge of the world. [ I am like a commuter waiting in in-between moments punctuating the malaise of a day. ] I am on an edge looking outwards at a wet and heady world, filled with clouds… hanging. [ Pregnant and grey. ] A small wind blows it’s warm moist air. Like a breath exhaled from a person just right there. To my right small rain is falling on the gently lapping waters – a subtle movement of irregular rhythm – undeniably soothing. Over further heavy clouds let go their heaviness – a subtle overlay of greyness making the division of land & sky & water diffuse. The release of the rain and the small wind blows freer, sweeter. Off to the left now small, determined rain is puncturing the surface of the water. A few intense moments then the tension eases.
Another change of ticks and the mantle of wetness passes, the small wind ceases. A small lite, uneven rain is now falling like the evocative touch of a caressing lover – a subtle dynamic irregular movement. [ The clouds are easier & pregnant no longer. ]
I sense purpose, discontinuous connection and I am still waiting – sitting out on the edge of the world.
Then as if to underline the fragile thread... [ it is raining again, determined and purposeful & everything becomes stationary, immersed and flattened ]… a single surface upon which wetness strikes and bounces and covers without exemption.
I am sitting on the edge of the world and the rain becomes the wetness that connects the lite touch of God’s Glory on the balmy moments of a Bau Wow Sunday !
Right now I feel like I am sitting on the edge of the world. [ I am like a commuter waiting in in-between moments punctuating the malaise of a day. ] I am on an edge looking outwards at a wet and heady world, filled with clouds… hanging. [ Pregnant and grey. ] A small wind blows it’s warm moist air. Like a breath exhaled from a person just right there. To my right small rain is falling on the gently lapping waters – a subtle movement of irregular rhythm – undeniably soothing. Over further heavy clouds let go their heaviness – a subtle overlay of greyness making the division of land & sky & water diffuse. The release of the rain and the small wind blows freer, sweeter. Off to the left now small, determined rain is puncturing the surface of the water. A few intense moments then the tension eases.
Another change of ticks and the mantle of wetness passes, the small wind ceases. A small lite, uneven rain is now falling like the evocative touch of a caressing lover – a subtle dynamic irregular movement. [ The clouds are easier & pregnant no longer. ]
I sense purpose, discontinuous connection and I am still waiting – sitting out on the edge of the world.
Then as if to underline the fragile thread... [ it is raining again, determined and purposeful & everything becomes stationary, immersed and flattened ]… a single surface upon which wetness strikes and bounces and covers without exemption.
I am sitting on the edge of the world and the rain becomes the wetness that connects the lite touch of God’s Glory on the balmy moments of a Bau Wow Sunday !
Friday, June 16, 2006
That 'M' Word...
Back in August, 2005 – I jotted down my up to the moment thoughts about that ‘M’ word !
I said it, “is an orientation away from the centre out to the edges... It is decentered – horizontal – seeping into the cracks and crevices of a particular place. It is holiness dwelling in close proximity to the mundane. The ‘M’ word is a movement outwards & downwards into places of injustice & disempowerment... an orientation outwards, towards otherness & difference where we welcome otherness and embrace difference”.
“It is a place of creative space, of possibility where the Spirit of God is most present... a safe place of restoration, of healing & of wholeness... where the possibility of the exceptional is expected”.
“The orientation of the ‘M’ word is about moving away from centers of self-interest, of comfort & self-satisfaction... a deliberate move against the entropy of selfish desire and of greed”. [Quote: “But why should the idea be repellent that humanity be a stench of greediness reaching to the sky ?” - Abraham Heschel] “The ‘M’ word is a movement to places of transformation and participation where God alone is the King !”
I wrote those words from a safe centre. Now that I am living in a more uncomfortable place... I want to know if they these words are true !?!
I said it, “is an orientation away from the centre out to the edges... It is decentered – horizontal – seeping into the cracks and crevices of a particular place. It is holiness dwelling in close proximity to the mundane. The ‘M’ word is a movement outwards & downwards into places of injustice & disempowerment... an orientation outwards, towards otherness & difference where we welcome otherness and embrace difference”.
“It is a place of creative space, of possibility where the Spirit of God is most present... a safe place of restoration, of healing & of wholeness... where the possibility of the exceptional is expected”.
“The orientation of the ‘M’ word is about moving away from centers of self-interest, of comfort & self-satisfaction... a deliberate move against the entropy of selfish desire and of greed”. [Quote: “But why should the idea be repellent that humanity be a stench of greediness reaching to the sky ?” - Abraham Heschel] “The ‘M’ word is a movement to places of transformation and participation where God alone is the King !”
I wrote those words from a safe centre. Now that I am living in a more uncomfortable place... I want to know if they these words are true !?!
Elastic Jesus Revisited...
"Just one comment on 'Elastic Jesus'. One thing that struck me about
your blog is the that whilst he is elastic I couldn't help but take the
alternate view that he is in many ways concurrently ROCK SOLID and with
absolute inflexibility.... his love of the father, his compassionate
spirit, his resolute focus on justice, his desire to spend time with
his 'crew' investing in them. How is it that he can maintain elasticity
yet be inflexible?"
CW
I have been thinking about life out on the margins because I have been living in one these past months. I have been particularly interested recently in what lies beyond the boundary of the margin – chaos. It struck me that Jesus walking on the water in the storm was Jesus at ease in a field of chaos. Jesus takes his disciples into that place. There Jesus is neither terrified or diminished. We usually talk about the Jesus who calms the storm – what about the Jesus who creates the storm ?
When Jesus is walking out on the water and the disciples’ see him they think he is ‘a ghost’. A guy I have been reading Jacques Derrida - says there is something interesting about ghosts – he calls them ‘an undecidable’. The figure of the ghost seems to be neither present or absent or it is both present & absent at the same time. There is a tension – a dissonance in that place that breaks open the meaning of things.
Life has many such tensions. The story of Jesus – the ghost - walking on the water is one. Our faith is based on the rock-solid idea that Jesus is the God-man ! Think about that tension – the church fathers argued about how that was possible for nearly 4 centuries. As Derrida says there is an uneasy tension in those kinds of paradoxes and for me that isn’t rock solid – that is dynamic & fluid – expanding and intensifying then contracting again – forming and un-forming – like Galadriel when she is offered the Ring by Froddo in the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’.
When I think about Jesus as the Rock I think about perspective. For example, from a distance Woolworths appears rock solid – institutional, a solid pillar of free market retailing. Yet I wonder if the daily experience of Woolworths up close is more asymmetrical & dynamic – a lot less certain. Jesus called Peter ‘the Rock’ and he was all over the place.
When the disciples respond in terror to Jesus walking on water and in fear to the storm – Jesus’ movement is toward them and His words restore peace - easing their discomfort. Jesus is rock solid & consistent in his expression of the pathos of God – God’s compassion & care ! Yet peace on the waters comes at the expense of stepping away from the experience of Jesus in his Glory !
I have been reading a book by GK Chesterton - ‘Orthodoxy’. He says, “… the more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.” Give me a Jesus who is rock solid but also give me an Elastic Jesus who expands and intensifies to become a volcano in full vent !
your blog is the that whilst he is elastic I couldn't help but take the
alternate view that he is in many ways concurrently ROCK SOLID and with
absolute inflexibility.... his love of the father, his compassionate
spirit, his resolute focus on justice, his desire to spend time with
his 'crew' investing in them. How is it that he can maintain elasticity
yet be inflexible?"
CW
I have been thinking about life out on the margins because I have been living in one these past months. I have been particularly interested recently in what lies beyond the boundary of the margin – chaos. It struck me that Jesus walking on the water in the storm was Jesus at ease in a field of chaos. Jesus takes his disciples into that place. There Jesus is neither terrified or diminished. We usually talk about the Jesus who calms the storm – what about the Jesus who creates the storm ?
When Jesus is walking out on the water and the disciples’ see him they think he is ‘a ghost’. A guy I have been reading Jacques Derrida - says there is something interesting about ghosts – he calls them ‘an undecidable’. The figure of the ghost seems to be neither present or absent or it is both present & absent at the same time. There is a tension – a dissonance in that place that breaks open the meaning of things.
Life has many such tensions. The story of Jesus – the ghost - walking on the water is one. Our faith is based on the rock-solid idea that Jesus is the God-man ! Think about that tension – the church fathers argued about how that was possible for nearly 4 centuries. As Derrida says there is an uneasy tension in those kinds of paradoxes and for me that isn’t rock solid – that is dynamic & fluid – expanding and intensifying then contracting again – forming and un-forming – like Galadriel when she is offered the Ring by Froddo in the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’.
When I think about Jesus as the Rock I think about perspective. For example, from a distance Woolworths appears rock solid – institutional, a solid pillar of free market retailing. Yet I wonder if the daily experience of Woolworths up close is more asymmetrical & dynamic – a lot less certain. Jesus called Peter ‘the Rock’ and he was all over the place.
When the disciples respond in terror to Jesus walking on water and in fear to the storm – Jesus’ movement is toward them and His words restore peace - easing their discomfort. Jesus is rock solid & consistent in his expression of the pathos of God – God’s compassion & care ! Yet peace on the waters comes at the expense of stepping away from the experience of Jesus in his Glory !
I have been reading a book by GK Chesterton - ‘Orthodoxy’. He says, “… the more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.” Give me a Jesus who is rock solid but also give me an Elastic Jesus who expands and intensifies to become a volcano in full vent !
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Leaky Boat, BIG Waters...
We all live on margins of chaos. Like Noah floating on waters cocooned in his boat, we too create microcosms of order and pray to our Maker for preservation. To dwell on the edge for a while pushing outwards, encountering difference violently rams chaos back into the imagination – shocking, even paralysing the messianic action.
When Peter stepped out of the boat it was two steps beyond the reason of a smart fisherman. It was an illogical step towards a dangerous Jesus who is filling that place with holy otherness & their boat with water. It was also a second step towards encountering Jesus on his terms. In that place a fisherman could walk on water. Yet fear overtook Peter. He ‘noticed the strong wind’ & was overwhelmed by a fisherman’s chaos. Suddenly Peter was the wily fish catcher being swallowed by an angry sea.
Jesus presence out on the lake expands & intensifies in the storm and though this movement is towards the Holy – towards otherness – he is never out of reach. The overwhelming pathos of Jesus is the redressive action that restores equilibrium, brings back peace - calms the storm.
The patience of God & the opportunity of another chance…
How often am I limited by what I believe without question ? When newness & otherness draws near intensifying feeling to fear – I know I don’t step between ! I retreat back into the safety of the known. During those times I am conservative & less perceptive. I hang on tightly to structure & boundaries until I fight chaos back to the margins.
The repeat story of a leaky boat and BIG waters says there is a tension in being a Jesus follower. Beyond Rock and Redeemer - the safe and familiar Jesus is forever restless, intense & dangerously Holy. Sometimes he compels us to experience his Grandeur through all 5 senses with the volume turned right up – like a splinter in the imagination.
Six times this annoying little narrative appears in the gospels. Each time Jesus rises up and the followers of Jesus retreat back. How many times must such story be told ? Seventy times seven ?
Until his followers find the courage to STAY & embrace the messianic action !
When Peter stepped out of the boat it was two steps beyond the reason of a smart fisherman. It was an illogical step towards a dangerous Jesus who is filling that place with holy otherness & their boat with water. It was also a second step towards encountering Jesus on his terms. In that place a fisherman could walk on water. Yet fear overtook Peter. He ‘noticed the strong wind’ & was overwhelmed by a fisherman’s chaos. Suddenly Peter was the wily fish catcher being swallowed by an angry sea.
Jesus presence out on the lake expands & intensifies in the storm and though this movement is towards the Holy – towards otherness – he is never out of reach. The overwhelming pathos of Jesus is the redressive action that restores equilibrium, brings back peace - calms the storm.
The patience of God & the opportunity of another chance…
How often am I limited by what I believe without question ? When newness & otherness draws near intensifying feeling to fear – I know I don’t step between ! I retreat back into the safety of the known. During those times I am conservative & less perceptive. I hang on tightly to structure & boundaries until I fight chaos back to the margins.
The repeat story of a leaky boat and BIG waters says there is a tension in being a Jesus follower. Beyond Rock and Redeemer - the safe and familiar Jesus is forever restless, intense & dangerously Holy. Sometimes he compels us to experience his Grandeur through all 5 senses with the volume turned right up – like a splinter in the imagination.
Six times this annoying little narrative appears in the gospels. Each time Jesus rises up and the followers of Jesus retreat back. How many times must such story be told ? Seventy times seven ?
Until his followers find the courage to STAY & embrace the messianic action !
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Elastic Jesus...
For 2 weeks now I have been interacting with a narrative whose presence in the Gospels leaves me feeling slightly off balance. It is becoming like a splinter in my imagination.
6 times the story of Jesus and his followers out in a boat on wind blown waters at night appears in the gospels. In each telling some elements of the story remain the same – the disciples, a boat, the wind, unbridled fear - yet the identity of Jesus is elastic and ambiguous ! In some instances Jesus is in the boat and in other instances he is out of the boat walking on the water. The disturbing thing is that when Jesus is in the boat up close and personal, those who know him best are left asking the question, “What sort of man is this ?” Out of the boat he appears at distance like some kind of ghost or phantasm and the disciples cry out in fear and terror. Neither option brings relief.
As the boat moves out onto the water, away from the crowd and the safety of the known, it is as though it slipped through a crack between the worlds. The disciples took Jesus out in the boat ‘as he was’ yet out on this margin Jesus expands and intensifies. In sleep his dreams evoke the restless, primordial, creative possibilities of Genesis – the storm like ‘a wind from God over the face of the waters’ - pregnant with change & newness. Likewise his prayer alone on the mountain evokes Moses and encounter with holy Otherness - the storm moving before him like ‘the voice of the Lord… over the waters… the God of Glory… thundering’ - powerfully declaring the One who walks on water.
John captures this ‘holy Otherness’ when he tells the story. In his telling, Jesus doesn’t calm the storm. He instead reveals himself to them as ‘I am – do be afraid’ & when the disciples try to take him into the boat, they instantly arrive at the their destination. What happens in-between happens on Jesus’ terms. And Jesus will not be contained or domesticated. Outwards & Downwards !
6 times the story of Jesus and his followers out in a boat on wind blown waters at night appears in the gospels. In each telling some elements of the story remain the same – the disciples, a boat, the wind, unbridled fear - yet the identity of Jesus is elastic and ambiguous ! In some instances Jesus is in the boat and in other instances he is out of the boat walking on the water. The disturbing thing is that when Jesus is in the boat up close and personal, those who know him best are left asking the question, “What sort of man is this ?” Out of the boat he appears at distance like some kind of ghost or phantasm and the disciples cry out in fear and terror. Neither option brings relief.
As the boat moves out onto the water, away from the crowd and the safety of the known, it is as though it slipped through a crack between the worlds. The disciples took Jesus out in the boat ‘as he was’ yet out on this margin Jesus expands and intensifies. In sleep his dreams evoke the restless, primordial, creative possibilities of Genesis – the storm like ‘a wind from God over the face of the waters’ - pregnant with change & newness. Likewise his prayer alone on the mountain evokes Moses and encounter with holy Otherness - the storm moving before him like ‘the voice of the Lord… over the waters… the God of Glory… thundering’ - powerfully declaring the One who walks on water.
John captures this ‘holy Otherness’ when he tells the story. In his telling, Jesus doesn’t calm the storm. He instead reveals himself to them as ‘I am – do be afraid’ & when the disciples try to take him into the boat, they instantly arrive at the their destination. What happens in-between happens on Jesus’ terms. And Jesus will not be contained or domesticated. Outwards & Downwards !
Sunday, April 02, 2006
King Kong Chaos...
The other day I saw the new King Kong movie directed by Peter Jackson. Out on the edge of the world awaits the mist-shrouded enigma of Skull Island. It is an island of death but also of life intensified in its raw & primordial power. A place where creatures are larger than life & deadly in their magnificence.
In one scene, a grazing herd of brontosaurus stampede in response to a circling pack of raptors. The desperate need to escape, forces these massive creatures into a narrow gorge - into the path of a resting, rescue party of 15 armed & self-sufficient men. Hugely awkward motion, is now mixed with the humour of small and fragile, fleeing men, caught up suddenly in desperate flight. They are driven onward - in front of and between the bone crushing legs of ancient creatures. Stopping means death.
For me this strange juxtaposition is an image of asymmetrical rhythm intensified by the edge of chaos.
The next unpredictable moment unfolds with men & dinosaurs - forced to change direction. The gorge ends ! As focus shifts sideways, momentum forces these tremendous masses dinosaurs & men onwards toward the precipice. All now scramble for footing as the way forward crumbles beneath them, some hurtling over into the abyss.
For me it is the sheer energy – the random, almost arbitrary possibility of death & life, for men & creatures now immersed in chaos.
The ones who survive on this margin are those who move intuitively and without hesitation towards the next unpredictable moment !
The scene climaxes when lumbering flesh & escaping movement is interrupted. Suddenly, the leading brontosaurus stumbles and the entire moving bulk of epic motion comes crashing down. There is nothing harmonious or ordered about it. Large cumbersome creatures falling awkwardly and heavily and tumbling - crushing themselves and everything in their path.
All is now overwhelmed by chaos. The pack of raptors seize their opportunity.
Give me an equal measure of the peaceful unpredictability of the dragonfly... any day !
In one scene, a grazing herd of brontosaurus stampede in response to a circling pack of raptors. The desperate need to escape, forces these massive creatures into a narrow gorge - into the path of a resting, rescue party of 15 armed & self-sufficient men. Hugely awkward motion, is now mixed with the humour of small and fragile, fleeing men, caught up suddenly in desperate flight. They are driven onward - in front of and between the bone crushing legs of ancient creatures. Stopping means death.
For me this strange juxtaposition is an image of asymmetrical rhythm intensified by the edge of chaos.
The next unpredictable moment unfolds with men & dinosaurs - forced to change direction. The gorge ends ! As focus shifts sideways, momentum forces these tremendous masses dinosaurs & men onwards toward the precipice. All now scramble for footing as the way forward crumbles beneath them, some hurtling over into the abyss.
For me it is the sheer energy – the random, almost arbitrary possibility of death & life, for men & creatures now immersed in chaos.
The ones who survive on this margin are those who move intuitively and without hesitation towards the next unpredictable moment !
The scene climaxes when lumbering flesh & escaping movement is interrupted. Suddenly, the leading brontosaurus stumbles and the entire moving bulk of epic motion comes crashing down. There is nothing harmonious or ordered about it. Large cumbersome creatures falling awkwardly and heavily and tumbling - crushing themselves and everything in their path.
All is now overwhelmed by chaos. The pack of raptors seize their opportunity.
Give me an equal measure of the peaceful unpredictability of the dragonfly... any day !
Thursday, March 23, 2006
The Geography of Chaos II...
Recently, I have been taken by the serenity of the many dragonflies which gather over the hot springs we have been visiting - in the shadow of a nearby volcano. Hovering and lofting over the swirling, warm air currents, they are like miniature hangliders. The fragility of the dragonflies – their delicate asymmetrical balance. The almost infinite possibility of their next movement – forwards-sidewards, upwards-backwards, sideways-downwards – fills me with energy.
Together dragonflies dance a dissonant rhythm – a lite and uncomplicated sense of order filled with the risk of the unpredictable next moment. That dragonflies together give themselves over to seeming chaos – I find the rhythm of it profoundly alive and soothing!
The tranquillity of this dance of asymmetrical flight gives way to the poise of absolute stillness when one is at rest on a rock beside the pools. There seems to readiness & intention encoded into the very DNA of the dragonfly – they seem glued into the possibility of the next unpredictable movement. Dragonflies are hard to catch & yet for my young son - not impossible.
This is the field of chaos – unforming, reforming, tremendous elemental energy, danger, possibility, newness & even death ! Like the undecidability of a decision – to leap into the unpredictable next moment is an action of faith & hope – two steps further along in the passage towards the other !
Together dragonflies dance a dissonant rhythm – a lite and uncomplicated sense of order filled with the risk of the unpredictable next moment. That dragonflies together give themselves over to seeming chaos – I find the rhythm of it profoundly alive and soothing!
The tranquillity of this dance of asymmetrical flight gives way to the poise of absolute stillness when one is at rest on a rock beside the pools. There seems to readiness & intention encoded into the very DNA of the dragonfly – they seem glued into the possibility of the next unpredictable movement. Dragonflies are hard to catch & yet for my young son - not impossible.
This is the field of chaos – unforming, reforming, tremendous elemental energy, danger, possibility, newness & even death ! Like the undecidability of a decision – to leap into the unpredictable next moment is an action of faith & hope – two steps further along in the passage towards the other !
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
The Geography of Chaos...
Here I am on the margin of chaos. To exist on the edge pushing outwards is two steps beyond the sum total of facts. A leap beyond all prior preparations. There is certain madness in it. To hesitate, to pause, to even stop here is like dwelling on the knife edge of undecidability. Deferring decision means the knife cutting deeper into my flesh urging me on. Do I move out further into vulnerability & weakness or do I retreat back into the safety of the familiar ?
Abraham was given his name by God – ‘father of a multitude’ & a son to go with the promise. Yet God asks Abraham to walk away from the responsibilities of that promise - to sacrifice his son & heir. Obediently Abraham journeys away from the safety of the center. Each step extinguishing the possibilities of the known – position & status, stripped away. Jacques Derrida says, ‘Abraham is at the same time the most moral and the most immoral, the most responsible and most irresponsible…’. He has stepped between - into transparency – again a wanderer.
Abraham is familiar with the rhythm of transparency - of being sensitive to asymmetrical & unfamiliar places. 3 times his name is called & each time Abraham answers by position – ‘here I am’ ! He is a deconstructed wanderer blessed with the wisdom of the margins. In the seeming madness of blind obedience, Abraham is uniquely positioned to let ‘the other’ come – truly ‘the Lord will provide’.
Oh the tension of the bitter comfort of sameness and the intoxicating discomfort of difference – holding me painfully between. I am cocooned within the anxiety of dissonance. These are shadowlands of undecidability. I think when it comes down to it I fear encountering otherness on its own terms. Yet Proverbs (1:7) tells ‘the fear of the Lord - ‘Supreme Otherness’ - is the beginning of wisdom’.
I reflect therefore I pause, I think and I stop… yet I am empowered when I intuit & keep moving. Here I am and I cannot stay here ! Outwards & downwards.
Abraham was given his name by God – ‘father of a multitude’ & a son to go with the promise. Yet God asks Abraham to walk away from the responsibilities of that promise - to sacrifice his son & heir. Obediently Abraham journeys away from the safety of the center. Each step extinguishing the possibilities of the known – position & status, stripped away. Jacques Derrida says, ‘Abraham is at the same time the most moral and the most immoral, the most responsible and most irresponsible…’. He has stepped between - into transparency – again a wanderer.
Abraham is familiar with the rhythm of transparency - of being sensitive to asymmetrical & unfamiliar places. 3 times his name is called & each time Abraham answers by position – ‘here I am’ ! He is a deconstructed wanderer blessed with the wisdom of the margins. In the seeming madness of blind obedience, Abraham is uniquely positioned to let ‘the other’ come – truly ‘the Lord will provide’.
Oh the tension of the bitter comfort of sameness and the intoxicating discomfort of difference – holding me painfully between. I am cocooned within the anxiety of dissonance. These are shadowlands of undecidability. I think when it comes down to it I fear encountering otherness on its own terms. Yet Proverbs (1:7) tells ‘the fear of the Lord - ‘Supreme Otherness’ - is the beginning of wisdom’.
I reflect therefore I pause, I think and I stop… yet I am empowered when I intuit & keep moving. Here I am and I cannot stay here ! Outwards & downwards.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
In the Neighbourhood of God II
There is a tale that tells the story of a man inspired by God who once went out from the places inhabited by people into the vast waste of a desert. In that place the man wandered for along time until he came to the Gates of Mystery. He knocked.
From within came a voice, “What do you want here ?”
The man replied, “I have proclaimed your praise in the ears of the people but they were deaf to me. So I have come to you so that you may hear me and reply.”
“Turn back,” spoke the voice from within, “There is no one to hear you here. Don’t you know I have placed my hearing among the deafness of mortals”.
From within came a voice, “What do you want here ?”
The man replied, “I have proclaimed your praise in the ears of the people but they were deaf to me. So I have come to you so that you may hear me and reply.”
“Turn back,” spoke the voice from within, “There is no one to hear you here. Don’t you know I have placed my hearing among the deafness of mortals”.
Friday, March 10, 2006
In The Neighborhood of God...
There are times when I feel transparent – almost invisible. It is a fragile state in which I am diminishing. I have this feeling of being stretched so thin, of being insipid, diluted – a lite version of me. It is like speaking in a crowd and the conversation continues right through me – no one hearing. It is like being one of the weathered, nameless ones, appearing at my car window begging & when sated, blending right back into the shadowlands. Where did she go ?
The transparency of God. Abraham Heschel says that life passes on in close proximity to the sacred, “You are not alone, you live constantly in holy neighbourhood: remember: ‘Love thy neighbour – God – as thyself.’” The accessibility of God, God drawing near – holiness moving in next door.
The discipline of transparency is positional. It implies sensitivity to place & openness to otherness in close proximity. It has that sense of vibrating in tune, of being immersed, enveloped and eventually becoming at ease and purposeful there. It is relationally significant yet non-threatening – reflective yet non-judgmental.
Transparency has that sense of being poress & permeable – of light passing through the thing uninterrupted. Relationally it risks greater vulnerability and exposure of self.
Transparency pragmatically embraces truth; not so much truth - universal & immutable but truth - local and dynamic. It is at ease with a reality that is pitted, asymmetrical & irregular. I think transparency is a choice – I choose to be present, I choose to immerse myself & to allow myself to be penetrated & shaped by this place !
As for those others dwelling out on the margins – disempowered and vulnerable - the anonymity of transparency is a discipline of necessity & survival. Outwards & downwards !
The transparency of God. Abraham Heschel says that life passes on in close proximity to the sacred, “You are not alone, you live constantly in holy neighbourhood: remember: ‘Love thy neighbour – God – as thyself.’” The accessibility of God, God drawing near – holiness moving in next door.
The discipline of transparency is positional. It implies sensitivity to place & openness to otherness in close proximity. It has that sense of vibrating in tune, of being immersed, enveloped and eventually becoming at ease and purposeful there. It is relationally significant yet non-threatening – reflective yet non-judgmental.
Transparency has that sense of being poress & permeable – of light passing through the thing uninterrupted. Relationally it risks greater vulnerability and exposure of self.
Transparency pragmatically embraces truth; not so much truth - universal & immutable but truth - local and dynamic. It is at ease with a reality that is pitted, asymmetrical & irregular. I think transparency is a choice – I choose to be present, I choose to immerse myself & to allow myself to be penetrated & shaped by this place !
As for those others dwelling out on the margins – disempowered and vulnerable - the anonymity of transparency is a discipline of necessity & survival. Outwards & downwards !
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Life in the New Country...
How easy it is to get busy and not to see ! The world is so complex and layered . For the sake of survival - much of the perception of it, becomes background noise. In the anxiety of increasing complexity, there is comfort for me in the constancy of routine - to the point where they become invisible.
Yet there is a problem. When change comes near, so often I am not paying attention. I am reacting yet again to the trivial & the petty. How easy it is for me to lose sight of ‘the main thing’ and to be found sidetracked in something else.
As a disciple it is not enough anymore for me to know about the main thing – I want to be participating in it. The discipline of attending to the main thing – isn’t that the edginess, the restlessness of St Matthew’s words, “Keep awake... for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming” (Mt24:42). To be captured by the main thing – to truly desire it is to intensify one’s presence in the world. Oh to be wholly aware in the concrete – to develop a sense of the Spirit of God shaping a place – is to open ones self to to possibility of blessing moment by moment. To be present to the whole and not distracted by the detail.
I stand as a small cup and the world pours into me. Yet I do not break because I am most wonderfully held. I am becoming more than I was because my awareness of God is expanding. Holiness in proximity to the mundane. In the middle of that vision I am becoming aware of choices of where I might choose to dwell in that space & what I might I might choose to do when I am there. Outwards & downwards !
Yet there is a problem. When change comes near, so often I am not paying attention. I am reacting yet again to the trivial & the petty. How easy it is for me to lose sight of ‘the main thing’ and to be found sidetracked in something else.
As a disciple it is not enough anymore for me to know about the main thing – I want to be participating in it. The discipline of attending to the main thing – isn’t that the edginess, the restlessness of St Matthew’s words, “Keep awake... for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming” (Mt24:42). To be captured by the main thing – to truly desire it is to intensify one’s presence in the world. Oh to be wholly aware in the concrete – to develop a sense of the Spirit of God shaping a place – is to open ones self to to possibility of blessing moment by moment. To be present to the whole and not distracted by the detail.
I stand as a small cup and the world pours into me. Yet I do not break because I am most wonderfully held. I am becoming more than I was because my awareness of God is expanding. Holiness in proximity to the mundane. In the middle of that vision I am becoming aware of choices of where I might choose to dwell in that space & what I might I might choose to do when I am there. Outwards & downwards !
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