Sacred Ground

Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’ Exodus 3:5b NRSV (Read in context.)

My mother taught me that God is everywhere.  Most Christians would agree with her; the One we call God can meet us anywhere. Indeed the sacred surrounds us, enveloping us. Each human being even reflects the divine (Imago Dei), according to most followers of Jesus.

We often co-create sacred spaces with the divine, the one I call God. In churches and other places we invoke the spirit with candles, prayers, or incense. (I often burn incense and light a candle to remind me of God's presence. They help me to remember that my gifts are from God.) Some indigenous people burn cedar or sage. Most faith traditions of which I am aware have ways to draw our distracted human minds to focus on the One, on the sacred. These rituals are not limited by location.

But there do seem to be places in which God's presence is palpable. As I've been hiking the Columbia River Gorge this year, I have happened upon places that draw me in, call me to prayer and meditation. Some of these places are simply pretty spots where the artistry of the Creator's brush compel me to awe.

"Some of these places are simply pretty spots where the artistry of the Creator's brush compel me to awe." Photo by Tim Graves

Others have been co-created by human beings. Another person has felt compelled, for reasons I am unaware, to modify the location. The zen rocks along the Coyote Wall trail, for example, demand a sabbath along the journey to the peak.

The Coyote Wall Zen rocks are flanked by Mt. Hood. Photo by Tim Graves

Sometimes the sacred ground I encounter is long, narrow, and winds through Mother Earth's majesty. The experience of putting one foot in front of the other -- of the journey -- is itself holy. Being present on that trail as it wanders through the forest, meadow, or along the river, the One walks with me.  The God who loves extravagantly heals me, prods and challenges me, and reminds me that the majestic unfolding realm of God includes each of us.

Photo by Tim Graves

Note: As I begin the long-term project of creating a spiritual guide to various trails within the Columbia River Gorge, I will be highlighting Sacred Ground that I encounter on my hikes.

Liberation & Loss: What It Means to Follow the Spirit

Following the Spirit requires loss. Loss of control. It also means giving up things that used to matter. It is also liberating.

Responding to a "Holy Spirit moment," my wife and I embarked on a journey across the country. We sold our home and became renters. We said goodbye to a dog. We gave away all of our possessions but what fit in two cars, moved to Oregon, and sold one car upon arrival. Our response to the Spirit meant becoming more nomadic; we moved three times in ten months. I've simultaneously doubted myself and been confident that I'm on the path upon which God desires for me.


There are many things and attitudes that I've given up over the last year. I sobbed when my Matchbox car collection sold quickly on eBay. Not a day passes that I don't reach out for my beloved friend Jade who had to be put-down. I yearn to sing silly songs to her, give her too many dog treats, and feel her head resting on my leg.


Selling my car, in my mind, was giving up not only mobility but a sign of my personality. Like a cheating husband who looks at other women, I still fantasize when I see Scion xB's around town. Yet letting go of these and more were necessary to follow the direction the Divine has laid before me. We would have been in bankruptcy court before Christmas of last year had I not sold my car and emptied my pension to pay bills. 


***


It might seem that I would be in a deep depression but I am not. I did have several weeks of lethargy and blues in the midst of confusion when my literal interpretation of the precipitating "Holy Spirit moment" was shattered. I doubted my impressions, my intuition, my sense that the Spirit was leading this way because it didn't fit my image of what was to happen. (See Leading the Malleable Life Amid Hurricane Force Winds). Though, I worried during that time that I had abandoned the path I put one foot in front of the other.


Following the Spirit is trusting that which you sense. Our culture's idolization of rationality dismisses remaining faithful to that which we cannot quite see. In some ways it is anti-spiritual and severs an integral part of what it is to be part of humanity and creation. 


Hyper-rational thinking discounts intuition and trusting the Divine. In The Shack, Wm. Paul Young describes the Holy Spirit through the primary characters eyes:

"But he knew all this as more an impression of her than from actually seeing her, as she seemed to phase in and out of his vision." (Wm. Paul Young, The Shack, p. 85)

Even during times of discouragement, doubt, and fear, I follow. I whine a lot, yell at God some, but trust that the One who has set me upon this trail will not leave me lost in the wilderness alone. At times my vision is clear; I know I'm following the Spirit. Much of the time, however, I simply risk believing my impressions as the Holy Spirit seems to phase in and out of my vision.


The result is a generalized sense of contentment. I feel liberated from the impossible task of being in control of tomorrow. Following the Spirit is about being in the present. It is about living, caring, loving, and accepting the One who is within, between, and around us. When the Spirit dances just outside my vision, I try to trust my intuition and sixth sense. 


When I fail to trust as fully as I wish I would, I accept that feeling, too. I pause. I refocus. I pray. I make only those decisions that must be made that day. I remember the One who forgives and loves me extravagantly.

An Auspicious Rainbow

Honest. I managed my time well this morning. Nonetheless, we were late for church...again. I blame my wife.


"Look at the rainbow!" She pointed out the window. I stopped and stared in awe. The vibrant, full rainbow arched from the Oregon side of the Columbia to the Washington side. 

I stood in the presence of the Divine. It wasn't just the artistry of the Creator that I could see with my eyes. I felt the stories of the ancestors permeate my thoughts and flowing through my veins. The Spirit lured me to ascribe special meaning and significance to this natural event. This scientifically explainable event became an auspicious sign of connection between God and me.


And, so, we were late for church on Palm Sunday. Palm Sunday marks the beginning of the Christian Holy Week. It is traditionally the day when followers of Jesus remember his triumphant arrival in Jerusalem, only to be crucified just days later. 


In many ways Palm Sunday is a day of naiveté. The first followers of Jesus thought they knew the whole story. Though, according to the gospel storyline, Jesus told his disciples that things would take a bad turn, they still believed that success had arrived on Palm Sunday. It had not.


Jesus, the One who breathed in the divine and breathed out extravagant love for all, was a threat to the power structures of his time. He would be humiliated, tortured, and killed by the Romans before the week came to a close. 


But love will ALWAYS have the last word. The Spirit used the rainbow to remind me of the ancients' stories of promise. Though challenging times are ahead of us, the rainbow signifies the promise of love's ultimate power to transform. 


As humanity seeks to face the unfathomable challenges of global economic injustice, a world polluted until it is warming, decade-long wars, modern day slavery, starvation, and the denial of the Imago Dei (the image of God) in one another a rainbow arches across the Columbia River on Palm Sunday.


It is as if God is saying, "Keep up the good fight, my children, my transforming, extravagant love for all of humanity will have the last word!"

Knowing Better than God: No Pink Bowling Balls for Boys!

“You’re not gonna use the pink ball. We’re not gonna let you do that. Not on camera." --Rick Santorum to a boy reaching for a bowling ball


I was never a particularly macho kid. Yeah, my brother and I played with cars and trucks. We even played the occasional vacant lot baseball game. Despite that, I never played organized sports. I was the last picked for teams in gym class. I chose the Drama electives instead of more manly subjects. Crying was not outside of my repertoire. Coming of age when I did, it was not easy to be the sensitive boy.  


"When are you going to get a real job?" --Cindy, about my work educaring infants and toddlers 

On the floor with babies mid-80s

Spending my days nurturing and caring for infants and toddlers was not the traditional path for a man in the early 1980s. I knew it might be a lonely path when I became the first man to graduate from the early childhood degree program at Illinois State University. While blessed by a fully supportive fiance and now wife, I had also hoped - perhaps in vain - that my friends would understand. Some did. Cindy did not.


There were jobs I did not receive because of a cultural bias that any man who wanted to work with babies must be a molester. It was not easy blazing a trail. The joys and contentment I have always felt with humanity's youngest is a clear sign that this was the Divinely-led path for me. 


As a bi-vocational minister, I still spend time working with babies and young children part-time. Things have gotten better or, perhaps, I've just gotten better at finding people who see my gifts. Nonetheless there are far too few men who work with young children. Our culture still has stratified roles for women and men. 

On the floor with preschoolers, 2011

I felt anger rise within me. My eyes watered as I read of a presidential candidate discouraging a boy from using a pink bowling ball. I know how it feels to have who you are created to be dismissed by others. I am not alone in these feelings. Certainly women in traditionally men's professions have a more difficult journey than I've had as a white man.


When we force boys or girls into rigidly culturally-constructed roles based upon their sexual organs, we deny their humanity. We deny their Divinely created gifts. In effect, we idolize - treat as a god - our own socially-constructed gender roles.

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses. 1 Corinthians 12: 4-11 NRSV (View this passage in context.)

When we discourage girls from studying the sciences or boys from nurturing babies, we teach our children to ignore the Spirit. We tell our children to pretend to be someone they are not. We tell God that we know better. 

Joyful Being or Resentful Doing?

"And what do you do?" That question is often a loaded question. It is loaded with cultural expectations about what it means to be worthy. Those who work constantly, especially to their own physical detriment are too often those held in the highest esteem.


My spiritual journey is about learning to BE. Many folks I meet do not understand. Aware of this, I seek to give a nearly-unintelligible response that sounds like it is about DOING. 


"Deflect in small-talk" has become my motto. I am happy to elaborate and talk about my life journey (which is inseparable from my spiritual journey), in the right settings. Small-talk is not the place for that elaboration.


Sometimes my strategy of deflection comes face-to-face with someone who is bound and determined to tell me what I should be DOING. Typically this person is seeking to remold my statement that, "I'm following the Spirit's luring to do something new" into their own worldview. They seek to quantify me by the standards of paid-work, by DOING, by goals, objectives, & outcomes. 


Most of the time this free-advice is not offered in malice. Usually it is offered not only in kindness and compassion but also in ignorance of what it means to focus on BEING. That's when I must endure the machine-gunned bullets of advice and questions until I can gracefully make my escape. Those who are enmeshed in DOING, rarely understand what it means to BE.


***


The Spirit is calling me toward creating something new. This calling first was first revealed to me in a "Holy Spirit moment" during communion (sometimes called Eucharist or the Lord's Supper).  This new something has involved a geographic journey to Oregon, first to Portland and now to the Columbia River Gorge. 


At this part of the journey, I am learning to BE. The Buddhists sometimes refer to it as mindfulness. I am accepting of this part of my spiritual/life journey. God has not abandoned me yet. Sometimes, however, machine-gunned questions or comments release my own past life of DOING, of goals and objectives and outcomes. Sometimes anxiety I thought I had let go of, is still present. I deal with this by acknowledging it, accepting it as part of my experience, embracing what it teaches me, and choosing to BE present where and when I am. I choose to BE.


***


And what does that mean for me as a follower of Jesus?



I seek to BE God's presence with others. I seek to BE God's forgiveness & extravagant love to all whom I meet, allowing God to work through me. I often do not achieve this because of my imperfections but I fail before I start when I am about DOING. 


When I focus on DOING, I fail to BE who I was created to BE. When I focus on DOING, I am out-of-touch with the interconnectedness of humanity and creation, and seek to impose my will. When I'm not BEING, I cannot possibly DO the work of the One. 


When I am about BEING, I recognize that I am just one part of humanity and creation. When I am about BEING, I strive to not only use my gifts for the common good but I encourage others to use their gifts. I find myself taking better care of myself and others when I seek to BE. 


I find myself concerned about others within and beyond my community because I perceive our interconnectedness. I am willing to be flexible, I get less upset about setbacks, and see things in new ways. When I am true to who I am created and being created to be, I find myself DOING that which matches my gifts, skills, and talents joyfully rather than out of obligation.

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. 30For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. 

(Luke 12: 27-31 NRSV Click here to read in context.)

Decaying Beavers & Rainbows

I was hiking along the riverfront when it caught my eye. At first I wasn't sure what it was and so I moved closer. I feared it would have that rank smell of death that gets into your nostrils and is so hard to get out, so I was cautious. I knew what it was when I saw its tail.


***


If you have followed any of my blogs or know me personally, you know that I've been on a journey toward "creating something new" since I experienced a Holy Spirit moment. I've let go of preconceptions, of possessions, and of identity to follow a call to Oregon. 


On this twisting river of a path, I have felt certainty and contentment simultaneously with doubts and desire to take action. Nonetheless, I've continued to hike toward the "new thing" trusting the Spirit's luring. Though waves of doubt wash over me, I keep flowing. Though I long for a glimpse of the outcome, I'm rarely privy to the details of that I seek.


In this time in which I question my interpretation of the Holy Spirit moment which brought me here, I continue upon the path with an earnest certainty. Surprisingly to me, I find myself in a town of 430 people. And I grieve the loss of daily living in my adopted big city hometown.


And I experience angst and doubt simultaneously with serenity. In this time, 

• I am steadily--though not spontaneously--growing fond of the 430 people here as well as the eight-thousand in the nearby town.
• I am quickly growing to love the gift of having Creation at my doorstep.
• I still don't know how to describe for others, what it is I do. I perceive the call to co-create "something new, something that doesn't look like church" but cannot describe that which the Spirit has not yet revealed.

So feeling uncertainty, I call out to the One. I whine to God,


GOD! I want to know,
   how to talk to others about my journey.


I want to know,
   and be in control of the path.
I want to pick the plants along the path,
   and engineer the turns and straight-a-ways.


GOD! I want to know the destination,
   precisely, exactly, and in detail.


And, God? If you can't do that little thing?


Would you at least,
   give me a sign that you've got my back,
      that I've not misread the "Holy Spirit moments",
          and that it is indeed you and your beckoning that I'm following?
Please?


In the name of the One who trusted you in the midst of his doubts,
   when he was ridiculed, beat, tortured, and
      killed on a cross by human fears. Amen.


***


At the beginning of this week, in which Christians began a time of penitentially journeying toward resurrections, I saw the bloated body of a beaver washed ashore. I was drawn to look at it closely, to see what had become of a mammal known for changing the flow of rivers. I was drawn to look at the bloated carcass that once full of life, vigorously controlled rushing waters.


I had that kind of morbid curiosity that accident gawkers possess. I moved closer to see. The eyes of this large water-controlling mammal seemed so small and insignificant. There was no strength left in this creature. There was no life left in this mortal creature that sought control of its environment.


Time flowed through the first week of my reflective, penitential journey toward Easter, and I forgot about the beaver.


I did not forget to whine, "I wanna know!" to the Divine. I was able to keep up my complaints to God all week without fail. 


On the last day of the week, I observed five rainbows. I tweeted about this remarkable series of colorful arcs:

I saw 5 rainbows [over] the course of today: two this morning &
three this afternoon. I think I must live in a magical land.
#ColumbiaRiverGorge

In this magical time in which I find myself, Creation answered me with the quintessential Judeo-Christian sign of covenant: a rainbow. Though I accept and understand the science behind rainbows, I believe the Divine works through each of us, through all of Creation, to lure us and communicate with us if we open our hearts. If we listen and respond in love, God's will moves us a little closer to the ultimate.


Though I didn't perceive it at the beginning of the week, my yearning for controlling the rushing waters, to landscape the path, leads only to a bloated carcass on the riverfront. 


Despite my petulant behavior worthy of disdain, the Divine answered my whine-ful pleadings, five times in one-day. I was reminded that the rainbows, are a sign of the covenant that God made with humanity, with all of creation. I was reminded that when God used a "Holy Spirit moment" to lure me to Oregon, that it was covenantal. I've journeyed here accompanied by the divinity that flows within, through, and between all that is. 

When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth. Genesis 9:16 NRSV

Keeping Covenant When the Storms Roll In

I was pissed. If I didn't feel it emotionally, my hoarseness revealed it. The children had scattered to their rooms. Even Isaac who was foolishly brave during "knock-down, drag-outs," had retreated to his bedroom. That's when it happened. I yanked the suitcase out of the closet. 

How had it reached the point that, even a small part of me, would consider breaking covenant? How could I possibly survive without my beloved? 


I looked at the suitcase in my hand and slumped down to the floor; all energy draining from my body. I became uncharacteristically silent. 


It was in that moment that I was finally able to hear the loving pleading of my wife. "You need help." Yes, she was right. Yes, I would call first thing Monday morning.


***


Nearly thirty-three years ago, my wife and I publicly entered into covenant with one another. With the covenant revealed in the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament) between God and the Israelites informing us about how to live in relationship, we were married. We covenanted with one another, and with God. (See "The Core Secret of Our Marriage for more about covenant.) 


The dripping humid day when we committed our lives to one another was only the beginning. Maintaining a relationship takes emotional energy and regular time spent focused on one another. Human beings are constantly evolving and changing. We have ups and downs. There are times when we're not so much fun to be around.


The challenge for two people in a covenantal relationship is to choreograph growth and change. Finding ways to dance through the stormy weather is perhaps the most intricate choreography. The steps are not always obvious.  Uncomfortable emotions tempt us to leave the stage entirely.

This is the second in a series about living in
covenant with another person.

Living in Covenant Series
The Core Secret of Our Marriage
Keeping Covenant When the Storms Roll In

That morning when I pulled the suitcase out of the closet was not our finest hour.   We'd bought an old 1850s house (think Tom Hanks' Money Pit) in upstate New York. Both children were still living at home. I was working multiple jobs. We were both working too much. Our lifestyle was not sustainable. I know I was not fit to live with during those years. 


I was also unable to see that I was making poor choices. 


***

An unwavering commitment to one another--even during times when we've felt distant from one another--is indeed central to our long marriage. Our success is more than that, however. We truly like each other. We allow--no, we embrace--one another's evolving growth and change. We truly want the other to be who they are called by God to be. 


We revel in one another's joys and always have one another's back. Yet, when one of us is not living into who we're called to be as a unique human being, we speak forthrightly. That is, we call one another out.


During those years, my wife could see clearly that I was making poor choices. She knew I was working too hard and that I was physically exhausted. I couldn't see it and would hear none of her pleadings.


Living in a covenantal relationship requires sticking it out when things are not going well. It doesn't mean you don't feel angry with one another. It doesn't mean you don't have good reason to dislike the other person. Likewise, part of a loving covenant - which includes God - is that we must each take care of ourselves. (There are times when leaving the relationship is the most appropriate thing to do. I will write about abusive relationships in a future blog.)


I was not taking care of myself during those times. The result was that I was taking it out on myself and those I loved the most. I am quite certain that my wife was irritated with me. I am quite certain that she was angry and worried about me.


In Judges 10, God is so frustrated with the Israelites poor behavior, with their breaking of covenant, that he laments, “Go and cry to the gods whom you have chosen; let them deliver you in the time of your distress” (Judges 10:14 NRSV).  God was tempted to break covenant with God's people. Who could blame God? The people had left and worshiped other gods until they were under attack by the Ammonites. Then they came running back begging for God's help.


Ultimately, however, God honors covenant. Because God “could no longer bear to see Israel suffer” (Judges 10: 16b NRSV), God responds compassionately. I imagine this was not unlike my wife's experience. She had every rational reason to break relationship. Who could blame her? But in the end, her compassion and her commitment, reigned supreme.  

During that difficult time, my wife offered up the truth about me, sometimes with a little sugar and sometimes with a little vinegar. But still I could not hear her. Still, she hung in there with me. My wife saw the imago dei (image of God) through my armor of hurt, fatigue, and nastiness. Her patience and compassion and her commitment - our covenant - waited for a time when I could hear her pleading.


***


I looked at the suitcase in my hand and slumped down to the floor; all energy draining from my body. I became uncharacteristically silent. 


And I sobbed. Her arms around me, I felt God's presence in our covenant. Then, I could hear God in the voice of my wife. "You need help. You can't keep this up. I love you."


***


God of Covenants,


Thank you for the extravagant love,
   that puts up with us no matter what.


Thank you for the love that forgives,
   even when we've ignored gentle pleadings,
      and angry pleadings.


Help us to include you,
   to accept your presence,
      to hear your voice in our relationships.


Help us to see the imago dei,
   in ourselves,
      and in one another,
          that we might be more loving.


In the name of the love which flows,
   within and throughout creation.


Amen.

Answering the Second Question

I cringe at the well-meaning second question. You know, the one that comes after the exchange of names? The second question upon meeting new people is no longer easy to answer, at least not as a simple nicety. 


Where do you work?


It's almost enough to make me a hermit! Do I launch into the detailed explanation about the "Holy Spirit moment" I had in the summer of 2010 which catapulted me on a journey of following the Spirit to Portland? Do I explain that God has me on a need-to-know basis, that for now I'm just learning to be? 


Nah, that always seems so woo-woo for casual social encounters. Even church people - especially church people - seem to expect a rational, heady, logical response rather than a spiritual one. I grow weary of the glassy-eyes, the "uh huh," and the silent reactions. 


I've found that saying, "To pay a few bills I'm substitute teaching while I'm working on a new project" satisfies most folks. But that doesn't feel honest or represent the spiritual nature of who I am. So, I sometimes mention my participation in the Occupy Portland chaplains hoping that sounds more ministerial. 


***


American culture is filled with admonishments that we must "take the bull by the horns" lest we lead an unhappy, pitiful life of failure. Our mainstream culture tells us that we must do, that we must achieve, and that we must make things happen. 

The result of all this doing is people who are miserable, stressed, worried, and anxious. When we focus only on doing, on the American doctrine that says our worthiness is based upon the money we make, the things we accumulate, and being busy, we fail to notice the Divine.

What if we practiced presence with one another instead of seeking to control our futures? What if we fully lived the moment we're in rather than setting goals ad nauseum? What if we focused on being rather than doing? 

I suggest we would live our lives more true to the teachings of Jesus and the life he modeled. In slowing down and living in the present rather than worrying about the future, I have begun to notice the Divine all around me. I've been more available to others. I am more fully the person God created me to be. Life is easier.


I still struggle with being and the guilt of not doing. This is a rocky path for me. I've spent my entire adult life embracing the dogma of doing.


Still, I know I'm on the right path for it is the Spirit who has set me upon it. Though I worry at times about what I should be doing, I know that if I listen and be, all will become clear. 


God Who Is,


You who love us extravagantly,
   not because of what we do,
      but because of who we are...


You whose love transformed death,
   into life...


You who created all that we know,
   and created us in your own image...


Continue to be a beacon for us,
   of how to love and be.


Help us to slow down,
   to accept that you love each of us.
Help us to slow down,
   and listen,
      so that we hear you lure us to love.


In the name of the One who listened,
   took you into his being,
      and became love on earth.


Amen.

The Core Secret of Our Marriage

My wife and I have been married for almost 33 years. I'm often asked, "What's your secret?" Typically my answer is about being realistic, accepting highs & lows, or about a sense of humor. The core secret is about the covenant we made with one another on a sweltering midwest summer day.


About Covenant


The term covenant has a strong association with the Judeo-Christian tradition as a model for relationship. If you read the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament), you are privy to a love story between God and the Israelites. 


Even when the people are unworthy of God's love, and God has every reason to abandon them, God ultimately honors covenant. For example, in Judges 10, after years of idol worship, the Israelites seek God’s help when under threat from the Ammonites. God is rightfully angry with their newfound faith: “Go and cry to the gods whom you have chosen; let them deliver you in the time of your distress” (Judges 10:14 NRSV). 


Despite rightful frustration, God “could no longer bear to see Israel suffer” (Judges 10: 16b NRSV). God responds in compassion and honors covenant. It is this covenantal relationship that serves as a model for our human relationships, including marriage.


The core success of our marriage, then, is that we stood before family, friends, and clergy on that day, publicly entering covenant. We invoked the Divine blessing and covenanted to work at our relationship. Our marriage covenant is with one another and with God.


Divine Presence


Created as physical and spiritual beings, to live into the image of God requires that we open ourselves to the spiritual. Life is an arduous, challenging experience. It is evidence of divinity when any of us are able to connect with other human beings.


A UCC minister and his wife, friends of my parents from their days at seminary, gave us a simple but powerful wedding gift thirty-three years ago. The physical gift was a golden cross with two rings. 

This is the first in a series about living in
covenant with another person.

Living in Covenant Series
The Core Secret of Our Marriage
Keeping Covenant When the Storms Roll In

The physical cross, however, was not the gift. The gift was the comment from Uncle Harold that our love and marriage are a gift from God. The implication being that we must treat our love and marriage with reverence.


My beloved Maggie and I have both sought to remember that our marriage is a sacred covenant. We seek to afford one another the respect that we afford God. For example, I know that Maggie doesn't rake me through the coals with co-workers. Likewise, her most sensitive secrets will never appear in one of my blogs. 


We have both made mistakes. (God knows I have!) But to have slept with another woman or man, would be no more a failure to keep covenant with my beloved than if I betrayed our private conversations. As such, neither of us -regardless of temptations - have strayed or long-avoided the hard work of living as a married couple.


Keeper of Covenants,


Thank you for your love,
   that flows within all of creation.
Thank you for the forgiveness,
   even when it is undeserved.


Flow through my relationships with others:
   with Maggie,
   with those whom I meet at the market,
      at the gas station,
         or who are begging on the street.


When I fail to be who you,
   created me to be,
      forgive me,
         and empower me to confess,
             and make amends.


For it is in following your loving lure,
   that the world reflects you.
It is in your love,
   that I am who you desire me to be.


Amen.


This is the first of several blog posts about what it means to live in covenant with another human being. The next will be about dealing with change and growth in one another. 

Whitecaps of the One

photo by Tim Graves

The blue water of the river,
   absorbs the joyful sunshine,
      warming itself and,
          the abundance within.



Bedraggled, she walks the bank,
   the sparkling, divine water,
      radiates outward greeting her.


Joyfulness cannot be contained,
   by a rocky, sandy edge.
Whitecaps reach upward and outward,
   finding an ocular entry.


Burdened by the human-made,
   in a mere glimpse of the glistening joy, 
      the Divine rays of abundance, 
         flow into an arduous life.


The sun-water within her ripples into,
   her dispiriting presence,
      creating hopeful whitecaps in muddy waters.


Blueness saturates her brown eyes,
   and the divine sunshine flows downriver,
      breaking out of its banks into towns north & south.

A Prayer

Jargon rarely furthers the extravagant love of the Divine beyond those already on the inside. Jesus calls us to borderlands where outsiders have been discarded & too often forgotten by those in-power, on the in-side, & who are in-focused. 

God, today & everyday push me to the borderlands that I might not only be your presence but see you in everyone I meet. AMEN.

Emptying Barns of Preconceptions

 "Selling our house and becoming renters will allow us to respond quickly to wherever the Spirit calls us."  I said this while my wife and I were in the midst of actively giving away possessions. 

But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life

 is being demanded of you.  And the things you have 

prepared, whose will they be?” So it is with those

 who store up treasures for themselves but are not 

rich towards God.’ Luke 12: 20-21 NRSV

Seventeen months ago yesterday, my wife and I began our journey of Emptying Barns. Emptying Barns is the name we dubbed our conscious journey of simplifying and letting go of possessions. (The term refers to a parable told by Jesus in Luke 12.) I confess we've been on a bit of a lull since arriving in Portland on Labor Day. Having managed to fit all of our possessions into our then two cars, we've gotten rid of very few things since arriving here. (We did sell my beloved car but that had more to do with financial concerns than simplifying.) 

I won't reiterate all of the details of why we feel letting go of things is important. (If you want that detail, please read Emptying Barns at One-Year.) I will, however, say that this is primarily about removing the clutter that keeps us from God. It is about using our share of the planet's resources and being faithful stewards. Emptying Barns is an attitude that says, God's justice and God's extravagant love is about relationships not things. 

When I said, "Selling our house and becoming renters will allow us to respond quickly to wherever the Spirit calls us, I perceived that we might move to a different neighborhood in Portland when our lease expired. I certainly didn't think God would send us packing - after only five months - to a small town sixty-five miles east in the Columbia River Gorge. I also was talking big when I said that; I had a romanticized view of my ministry-in-formation. 

That's the nature of responding faithfully, though, isn't it? It's rarely like we think it will be. God tends to continually challenge us to do more than we thought we could. God stretches our perceptions in surprising ways. For example, I've been quite self-satisfied that we moved from a three-bedroom home to a two-bedroom duplex, and then to a studio apartment. Yet, I've learned that the downside of a 250 square foot studio apartment is that it is very difficult to provide hospitality. 

We will be moving into a one-bedroom apartment in the Hood River area this week. I confess I feel a little guilty. It's a very nice apartment. Very nice! It doesn't fit with my image of Emptying Barns but, I confess, I'm excited about the opportunity we will have to provide hospitality. I can imagine folks gathering in the our living room overlooking the Columbia River. I can imagine using this space for my ministry-in-formation.

Yes, Emptying Barns is about letting go of possessions but it is also about letting go of preconceptions. It is about being still, listening for the voice of the One, trusting and responding, and sometimes it is about having the physical space to be hospitable. 

God of Surprises,

Your abundant love never ends,

    as You challenge me to be truer to Your will.

Just when I think I've got it all figured out,

    You show me my arrogance and,

        turning it all around on me.

I feel so overwhelmed lately,

    You beckon me to places that surprise me,

         that require I trust in You.

Heighten my senses that I can feel,

    Your loving embrace around me.

Open my heart and mind to You that,

    I can see what I need to see,

        trust You where I can't yet see,

            and still reflect Your love to others.

In the name of the rabbi who surprised the world,

   by opening himself fully to You.

Amen.       

    

Our Urge to De-merge

I sat on the couch performing surgery on myself. My notebook warmed my lap as I severed myself into two parts. This was no clean in & out surgery. I cut a connecting artery here, I transplanted an organ from this side to that, and I did elaborate zig-zag stitching worthy of a master seamstress.

A bi-vocational minister, I was performing surgery on my three-decade long resume into two versions: the early childhood version and the ministry version. I struggled to decide what parts went where. My academic advising of students went beyond classes as I listened and counseled about life issues. I always considered that part of my life a ministry. Too bad it didn't really look that way on paper. 

As I cut and stitched my resume, I found myself connecting one life experience to another only to cut them apart a few minutes later. I kept changing my mind. It wasn't that I was indecisive... it's just that  I wanted the documents to fully represent who I am. In the end, I gave up and reassembled the two resumes into one. If churches didn't value my secular work or if secular institutions didn't value my ministry, well, I reasoned, they didn't value who I am.

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Blame the Greeks or blame the Gnostics, either way our culture suffers from deeply ingrained dualistic thinking. This manifests in severing ourselves from one another as well as cutting ourselves apart. The concept of wholeness is somehow an alternative,  an "on the fringes" way of thinking. 


In politics, where we seem to have lost respect for any opinion but our own, this dualism of polarization needs no explanation to any but the most ardent hermit. The concept of communal problem solving is a decaying corpse. We've abandoned any semblance of civil discourse or seeing the value in other ideas.

In our sociocultural discourse we mirror the judgementalism of politics. If you don't do things the way I do then you must be flawed. At the very least your silly ways are worthy of my laughter, ridicule, name calling, or sarcasm. 


As North Americans, we pretend that we don't need one another. Having bought into the myth of the white pioneer rugged individualist, who did it by himself, we de-merge from others. It doesn't matter that white pioneers journeyed across the continent in groups, relying on the help of one another. We tell ourselves we can go it alone. 


In contemporary times this manifests in lonely parenting, in stubborn self-reliance, and in self-hatred when we cannot do it all on our own. The Super-Mom myth that emerged in the last century is an example of this. Women were told that they could give 100% to a career and 100% to the home--without help from anyone else. Unable to achieve 200% by oneself, too many parents feel guilty.


As an instructor of future teachers, one of the core concepts I sought to teach students was that of the whole child. This is the idea that all aspects of the child, physical, social-emotional, and cognitive, are inextricably linked. I had to teach this alternative idea because we have artificially severed the academic from the physical and social-emotional. While there is a strong movement supporting wholeness, both within and outside the educational establishments, they are fighting an uphill battle against a deeply ingrained dualism.


Religion itself too often ups the ante. In religious dualism we're dragged beyond the one life we all know we have, into the next. Many Christian sects, for example, set up the dualism of insiders who are saved and rewarded versus outsiders, everyone else, who is unsaved (lost?) and will surely burn in a fiery hell. We convince ourselves that only right-thinking people are worthy of the extravagant love of the God.

The dualism in some Christian circles, spurred by a tradition that misinterprets scripture has deemed the physical as evil or unworthy and the spiritual as good and pure. Hence, we rarely talk about sexuality except to condemn it. Christian doctrine, historically decided by men, is especially critical of women's bodies and sexuality. The church's discomfort even manifests in extra biblical beliefs about the immaculate conception of Mary, the mother of Jesus. This belief reflects dualistic thinking in which the body (sexuality) is bad and the spiritual is good. 

Is it any wonder that we even split ourselves apart? All of this dualistic, either/or thinking, leads to perceiving ourselves as less than whole. Our culture, politics, and religious life have resulted in an urge to de-merge. To reject our physicality or other aspects of our God-created nature, is to reject not only ourselves but the One who created us.

God of Wholeness,


You who created us to depend upon one another,
    You who created us each with Gifts needed by others,
        We ask that you help us to recognize,
           our need for one another.


You who created us each as tapestries of wholeness, 
    as images of your divinity,
        We ask that you help us to see the You,
            in us and in one another.


You whose love knows no boundaries,
    whose loving wholeness encapsulates all of creation,
         We offer gratitude for the faith you have in us.


Divine wholeness, 
     may we strive for faithfulness to You.
Gently encourage us to give up,
     our arrogant individualism,
     and our self-hatred that manifests,
         in rejecting parts of ourselves.


For it is the One-ness of You,
     in the acceptance of ourselves,
     and the embracing of one another,
     that we will find You.


In the many names humanity has used for you,
    we pray for wholeness.


Amen.