a revelation I want to remember

One thing that has been a revelation to me recently, a surprise in the current difficult circumstances, is the opportunity to act in real, practical ways for the good of the community, while at the same time clearly (prophetically?) rejecting the path the community is choosing. This is something important, central to the Christian life, in my opinion. But very hard to actually do.

I see Jesus as the model for us. He so vigorously denounced the ways of his people at the time, the oppression of religious and state powers, the people's slavery to money and politics, their "little faith." And he avoided these ways himself, working completely outside the normal structures of his day. Needing neither money nor a political following to accomplish his purposes. Yet he did real good for the people of his community, and by this they could see that he really cared for them.

Often in the past I've gotten so frustrated by the parts of community life that I'm opposing (because I think they are not God's ways and are harmful for the community) that I can only withdraw. Hoping that it will be some kind of sign for others. But this approach does not communicate love very well, and people are more likely to feel simply rejected. It's just so hard, though, to continue to care amidst the pain, to continue to try to find ways to contribute while at the same time feeling so strongly that the current structures and practices must be rejected as un-Christlike. How could Jesus do it? How avoid getting overwhelmed by frustration and anger? How contribute practically and lovingly without becoming a cog in the machine that's grinding all of us? Do you have to be able to do miracles?

One recent insight, discovered in a moment of deep and barren emptiness, was that it's okay if our love seems to dry up in the frustration and anger. This will pass. The truth is that love—real selfless, Godly love—does not come from me anyway. God is the source. So I can count on that love, God's love, being there when I need it later. My heart might be wrung dry at the moment, but God holds a great and fathomless love always ready to provide the energy and warmth needed to do good to my neighbor when it is needed.

Another help has been the deepening of my faith in the reality of the body of Christ. No matter what the structure of the society or church around me, no matter what the ingrained faults or weight of oppression, the body of Christ exists whole and perfect even there. So I can always act in accordance with the nature of the body (which is the nature of Jesus) and expect the strength and coordination of the body to be there, supporting me. Sometimes this support can even come from the very same people who are also most central to the community's problems. God can and does use anyone.

A specific way I've seen this work out here so far: The maintenance meeting I helped coordinate went very well. And little coordinating was actually needed, the people we have (and the help they freely offered) fit quite easily with the specific practical needs we currently have. A critical need was quickly answered, and many were relieved and grateful. And this all happened completely outside the complex and long-running community reorganizing meetings (which I'm avoiding and have spoken out against). Contrasting these two meetings seemed to me to show the difference between the complex and compromising maneuverings of human politics and the simplicity of submission to the body of Christ.

I've also been encouraged to expand this asking/giving model beyond maintenance to the other various gifts in the body. (This came out of the love I was having trouble finding in myself.) I've decided to step down from leading teaching times here, to avoid imposing my criticisms (hopefully prophetic criticisms) on others who disagree. But I'm planning to use my last Sunday teaching time, on Epiphany, to have us offer our gifts to each other, our abilities and interests that might be of service to one another. Things like counseling or reconciling skills, willingness to teach or offer hospitality, etc. It will probably just serve to inform us of what everyone is willing to offer, and also help us think about what we want to offer. And it may help meet specific communal or individual needs. But the biggest gift might be opening our eyes a little more to the reality and goodness of the body of Christ all around us. A structure we don't need to build. With a mission and purpose we don't need to invent. And a Head that is not any of us.

"much goodness awaits"

"How can you say, 'We are wise,
and the law of the Lord is with us'?
But, behold, the false pen of the scribes
has made it into a lie.
The wise men shall be put to shame,
they shall be dismayed and taken;
lo, they have rejected the word of the Lord,
and what wisdom is in them?

"From prophet to priest
every one deals falsely.
They have healed the wound of my people lightly,
saying, 'Peace, peace,'
when there is no peace."
Jer 8.8-11

from psalm 149

The Lord takes pleasure in his people;
he adorns the anawim with victory.
Let the faithful exult in glory;
let them sing for joy on their couches.

Let the high praises of God be in their throats
and two-edged swords in their hands,
to wreak vengeance on the nations
and chastisement on the peoples,
to bind their kings with chains
and their nobles with fetters of iron,
to execute on them the judgment written!

This is glory for all his faithful ones.

God can wait

I was thinking about writing something about waiting ('tis the season) and I came across this entry from three years ago. It's perfect for what I've been thinking recently:

My days are like an evening shadow;
I wither away like grass.

But you, O LORD, are enthroned for ever;
your name endures to all generations.

Long ago you laid the foundation of the earth,
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish, but you endure;
they will all wear out like a garment.
You change them like clothing, and they pass away;
but you art the same, and your years have no end.
(Ps 102.11-12,25-27)

The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing;
he frustrates the plans of the peoples.
The counsel of the LORD stands for ever,
the thoughts of his heart to all generations.
(Ps 33.10-11)

God is not threatened. His intentions and purpose are not in jeopardy. He does not fear the possibility of things spinning out of control, or falling apart, or someone taking the reins from him. He is God.

So he can wait. He can wait for us because he is not threatened by us, by our denials and rebellion, by our boasts and attempts to escape him. We cannot escape his truth. Or thwart his will. We can only thwart ourselves, and if we continue this to the end then we will simply pass away and be gone.

I need to be more consciously aware of this, and trust it more fully. I know when I lose patience with people and run away, or strike out in anger, I'm feeling threatened. I'm panicking. I'm afraid that my plans are falling apart, or I'm getting trapped, or evil is winning. I can't wait well when I don't trust well.

At those moments I very much feel my own vulnerability. My days are like an evening shadow...

I need also to feel But you, O LORD, are enthroned for ever.

I think I may be doing a little better at this now, three years later. Even in a more difficult situation. But the basic call to "wait as God waits" is still a good one that I need to be reminded of.

Maybe I'd just add that often God's waiting is an act of mercy for those involved, giving them more time to understand, and change. And then sometimes I think the waiting may already be part of God's response (we just don't see it yet), letting the wrongdoing get deeper and clearer and the consequences build and build. Until the truth is inescapable, and justice inevitable.

my so-called life

Heather has been away for almost two weeks now, visiting a friend from high school, who now lives in Canada (Saskatoooon!). I've been coping by comforting myself with episodes of "My So-Called Life." It was a really good show about 15 years ago, about life in high school, that got canceled after its first season. But at least there's nineteen great episodes, and they're all available on Hulu.

Here's a good one I watched yesterday, about parenting and "other people's kids," and being a friend to someone struggling with addiction. (Sorry about the commercials!)

"behold my servant"

Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him,
he will bring forth justice to the nations.

He will not cry or lift up his voice,
or make it heard in the street;
a bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.

He will not fail or be discouraged
till he has established justice in the earth... (Is 42.1-4)

I'm supposed to lead the discussion Sunday on the first two "servant songs" in Isaiah. I didn't choose them, but they seem like a good way for me to respond to the reorganization going on the in the community here (which I've decided not to participate in). The idea is that Jesus came as a savior very different from the usual political leaders, very different from what the people expected. And I think we are called to be different in the same way.

The first servant song above provides a good contrast, I think, between political leaders ("saviors") and the more prophetic leadership that Jesus offered. He didn't need to "lift up his voice" to gain the people's support, or demonstrate his strength and authority by breaking a few bruised reeds along the way. And he didn't need to cut deals or compromise his goals in order to keep sufficient public support to get things done. His establishing of justice needs no popular support and is never in danger of failing.

Because, unlike political leaders, the servant (note that he is called God's servant, not the servant of the people) doesn't accomplish his purposes through the power of people. His purposes are accomplished by the power of God. This is more clear in the second servant song (Is 49.1-6). "My God has become my strength." Jesus led prophetically, by speaking God's truth and living the reality of the kingdom that God had established. He didn't need the political power to enforce his own words; God enforced them. So Jesus could be humanly weak, gentle, and even seem to be a complete failure (at the cross), and still "bring forth justice" surely and without compromise. Because God made it happen.

I think we're still caught up here in trying to find political solutions to save ourselves. Trying to reassure people by exerting authority, even to the extent of pushing some past their breaking point, trying to stir up support for various different (and conflicting) proposals, which I'm sure will end with the necessary political compromises and no one getting all they hoped for.

The prophetic vision sees that we already have a beautiful structure, given by God, called the body of Christ. And we already have a leader, our perfect Head, Jesus. To whom we are already all committed, I believe, as much as we can be committed to anything—so why do we think some communal membership or mission statement could unite us any better?

Prophetic leadership, in our case, I think, means being able to see and reassure each other about that God-given unity and common purpose, stop struggling over politics and serve God as we are called to, humbly tending to the needs of one another.

bookkeeper and maintenance man?

Thanksgiving will mark two years since we moved to the farm for good (we were in this apartment by Christmastime). Much has changed since then. I think I might take a day retreat in the cabin this week to reflect on those changes.

One change that I've been aware of recently is that I'm getting increasingly involved with the practical aspects of the overall community life. Like organizing a maintenance meeting to handle repairs and maintenance projects for the buildings here, and probably helping with many of those repairs myself. And taking over the bookkeeping for the church, and for the farm next season. I remember my concerns shortly after moving here, about not wanting to be pressured into community work (and get distracted from retreat work), about not wanting anxieties about survival to drive my work. I was thinking mostly about financial and business pressures, which often drive our work. But now I find myself about to be a bookkeeper and maintenance man—how did that happen? It makes me a bit uneasy.

When I think of it, though, I wasn't pressured into either of those things. I just volunteered. Maybe it's that I came to see the real need in those areas, and I seemed to be the one most able to take on those things, to help meet those needs. And they seem to be a service to others, things I don't so much need for myself but that others would struggle and suffer without. So I don't feel pressured to do it except by love.

And maybe I have been able to better distinguish what are real needs (given by God as ways to love each other) and what are self-imposed "needs," driving us by our anxieties and ambitions. For example, I'm not interested in promoting the businesses or making more money, but it does seem a real need that bills and workers get paid and records be accurate. And it seems a real need that we work together so our houses stay in good shape. On the other hand, I'm staying completely out of the current efforts to set up a new form of governance in the community, something that I don't see Jesus calling us to do. Like when the Hebrews demanded a king, when they already had God's governance (only I think the body of Christ is even better than what they had).

It's probably valuable also to show in action that I really do care about the needs of the people here and am committed and intimately involved, though I reject some of their current plans and efforts. And I like being involved on the service level, rather than the manager/leader level.

Or maybe it could be a way of leading from below rather than from above.

Be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding,
which must be curbed with bit and bridle,
else it will not keep with you.

from Psalm 32