the process

Recently I noticed a well known political commentator talking about the importance of the presidential primary process. She expressed confidence that the process would sort out who was be the best candidate for her party. That reminded me of a conversation I'd once had about communal decision-making.

A contentious issue had become very heated, and I'd been pleading for an upcoming meeting to be cancelled, to avoid bringing the issue to a crisis point. I thought it would certainly damage relationships and lead to a break in the community. But my friend insisted that bringing it before the group and taking the usual consensus decision-making steps would lead to some good result (though what that might be wasn't clear at the time). "I believe in the process," he said.

The outcome of that particular process didn't impress me, however. From what I could see, it resulted in even more damage that I expected. And in my years in community life I've seen quite a few other processes end in failure (or worse) as well. It has certainly left me with no great faith in "the process."

What are our processes, after all? Merely human organizational models and techniques. Political procedures, designed based on our experience getting groups of people to cooperate. Ways of gathering and maintaining the support of the majority. Certainly there is acquired wisdom to be seen in processes that have lasted for years. But ultimately our processes are still the products of human beings, carried out by human beings, and only as trustworthy as human beings.

I don't believe in the process. I don't believe in the political wisdom of human beings, but in the wisdom of God ("foolishness to the Greeks..."). If I wanted to gain the support of the majority, I should certainly follow their processes. But if I want the support of God, those processes are worthless. I'd rather ignore those processes consistently, to demonstrate that I look to God for my help rather than men.

That's not to reject people, since God uses everyone for his purposes, and I know much of my help will come through them. But I do reject their faith in the process.

So far, my early experiments in side-stepping the process have been encouraging, and liberating. (And hopefully maybe a little inspiring.)

the long view

Starting a family encourages "the long view," I think. Looking further down the road, years ahead instead of days ahead. Planning and acting with long term goals in mind.

That becomes more important also in our spiritual lives, I'm finding. God's work with us and others is often very long term, since our turning and growth is usually very gradual. So to understand what God is doing we also need to be able to see further down the road, see God's long term goals. If we don't adjust to this way of seeing then I think we'll experience frustration after frustration. I've certainly experienced my share of that.

God's promises help with this. Also the prophetic aspects of faith. To give us some assurance that we will eventually reach God's long term goals, that we'll eventually get there, no matter how our situation looks at the moment. That can help us enter and move through some pretty dark places. Could Jesus have turned towards Jerusalem that final time without the prophetic assurance of what the outcome would be? Many of God's promises are very long term, as in end times long term. We can always cling to those. But I think a deepening intimacy with God can also offer us some long views that aren't quite so long, to give hope and direction for the more immediate future. I've found that to be an increasingly important part of my faith life.

Heather and I enjoyed a week away, in Florida with my parents. Some good surprises that I'll talk more about later. Now it's nice to be back home, but I'm also hit with the tangle of problems and suffering relationships that exist here. That's turned my eyes to the long view as well. To what will be, not because I want it or can make it happen, but because God is giving it.

Behold, as the eyes of servants
look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of a maid
to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to the Lord our God,
till he have mercy upon us.
Ps 123

the roads not taken

I suppose every big decision stirs up thoughts about the alternative paths that will have to be given up. Having kids brings up those concerns for most people, I expect. Heather and I talked about this a little last night before falling asleep (before I fell asleep, that is, as I can never last for long once hitting the mattress).

The lure of the many roads not taken is mostly illusion, though, I think. We can dream anything, but the actual possibilities available to us are limited by lots of things. That goes against the cultural mantra that we can be anything we want to be. But most of us see through that lie pretty early in life. There are real choices for us, but not limitless choices.

And, really, as a follower of Jesus, I wonder if the fixation on choosing the path for our life is even appropriate. Isn't that the point of being a "follower"? That we're not deciding the path to take?

Instead of the focus on choosing and then making it happen, it seems our focus should be on listening and then walking through the door opened for us. Not making a life for ourselves, but embracing the life given to us. Given by God, that is. That's not the same as accepting the life ordained for us by our elders or by our society. But looking to God for the opportunities and path that he opens before us, and trusting that our deepest desires are also from God and are meant to find fulfillment on the path he shows us.

Probably the poor and the marginalized in society grasp this more easily than the privileged. They know they cannot live any life they want, no illusions there. And they're often more eager and accepting of opportunities presented to them. Not dismissive, expecting a better offer. In that, they're closer to the kingdom of God.

That's what I think we should be looking for. Not the best life that we can manage to build for ourselves, but the kingdom of God. Looking for the kingdom to be revealed in the opportunities and community that God leads us into, as imperfect as those might look to us. In any case, the kingdom of God is not something we're going to be able to create or even discover by managing our choices correctly. It's definitely going to be a gift, and probably appear (again and again) where we didn't expect to find it.

Doesn't that take the pressure off? The fulfillment of our desires is not going to be in the life we might (one day) assemble for ourselves, but in the life God has been giving to us all along.

The sap's running right now. It reminded me of this Chico original.

The experience of being forgiven
makes everything seem new.

the prophetic aspect of faith

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Heb 11.1)

I've been thinking about the prophetic experience again. I've written about it before, mostly focusing on the prophetic role in relation to others, how that serves the community. But I think I'm seeing the prophetic experience as an important aspect of my own faith as well.

It's the waiting in faith that I often find so hard. I've written about "waiting on the Lord" many times, as expressions and means of reassurance in that struggle. Often holding to God's promises has been extremely helpful in my waiting. And I'm discovering that God's prophetic words to us are another form of his promises, not just revealing what will happen but assuring us of what God will do. That has been important to me at many crucial moments in my life, when waiting has been especially hard. "The assurance of things hoped for," the prophetic aspect of faith.

Not that we have to know everything that God is doing, or that we have any right to know. But Jesus told his followers, "No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you." (Jn 15.15) That's a gift, an act of grace, God letting us in on what he is doing. And not just in some general, universal sense, but also in the specific circumstances of our own lives. To help us wait, and also perhaps to help us cooperate with what God is doing. Again, this is not something God owes us. But I'm grateful God chooses not to leave his friends in the dark.

hard day

on princes, and other officials

Do not put your trust in princes,
in a son of man, in whom there is no help.


In God, whose word I praise,
in the Lord, whose word I praise,
in God I trust without a fear.

What can man do to me?


(from Psalms 146, 56)

being silent

I came across Jesus' trial this morning while reading in Matthew. That version of the story really emphasizes Jesus' silence before the authorities.

I've thought a lot about that silence, and the more experience I have with institutional authorities the more wisdom I see in Jesus' refusal to speak. He undermines their claim to power by refusing to ask them for anything, not help, not mercy. Though most everyone else (including the authorities themselves) see them as important and powerful, Jesus practically ignores them. I think that's a much more powerful challenge than even denouncing them; it shows a complete lack of concern about what they can do.

At times I've responded with silence in similar situations, but I'm usually agitated and struggling inside, which I'm sure is apparent. I guess I need more practice.