I find it interesting that this question is “…sacred” and not “…the sacred.”  I have often heard the words “the sacred” used to talk about a way of experiencing God as person, force, object, etc.  Without the definite article, it does bring in a new element.  The word sacred is defined as “something connected with God [or gods] or dedicated to a religious purpose and so deserving veneration.”  In the dictionary I used, it is an adjective and not a noun (proper or otherwise).  So, this question has a bit of a different slant than it could.

For me, I started initially working through a long list of “times of experiencing sacred” and came up with about 20 things and it still felt incomplete.  It felt like there were moments missing and ones that I couldn’t even remember specifically and yet felt like they were missing.

The word sacred has a sense of holy, set-apart, unique, unusual, unexpected, beautiful to me.  Sacred comes in where these things interact with daily life.  But what is most important to remember is that daily life is not just a process of getting from one sacred point to another, but instead a daily living in the midst of the sacredness of life.  Too often, I think we live where we separate “sacred” from “secular” and give the sense that the two are completely separate.  I think reality is far different, however, as sacred-ness is all around us and it is us seeking to be tuned into the sacredness that is there.

In this sense, its not that much different from the radio, television, wifi, etc waves that are all around us – we may not see them, but when we are tuned in, we pick them up clearly and are connected to something beyond ourselves.  I think sacred is like that in a far more important and life changing way.  Sacred is in the air around us and its a lifelong process of being tuned into it around us.

So, its taken a bit longer, but I’m going to try to wrap up these 10 conversations…Two left to go.

As I started to think about this question, I thought of a survey that made its way around the internet a few weeks back about iPad owners.  I don’t know how “scientific” the survey is, but it came out with some not-very-good words about iPad owners…

According to Tim Koelkebeck of MyType, which carried out the survey, iPad owners are are six times more likely to be ‘wealthy, well-educated, power-hungry, over-achieving, sophisticated, unkind and non-altruistic 30-50-year-olds’.

They are self-centered workaholics with an overwhelming interest in business and finance who cherish ‘power and achievement’ and will not cross the street to help others, he added.  (source)

Now, I am not sure about the validity of the survey, but I thought about the overall message in there that focuses on the individual and how much of our technology today caters to the individual’s experience.  Smartphones, iPads, iPods, PSPs, etc are all focused on the individual’s experience.  They are generally not about the common, shared experience.  Yes, I am generalizing here, but there is a strong individualistic element within much of what we do today.

So, where does this relate to the question, “When Have I Experienced Working for the Common Good?”  Well, for me it is within a community and not within my own individual experience.  These times of experiencing a working towards the common good have come when I am not working on my own.  I know this sounds a bit like a “duh” kind of comment, but the more we become fractured and individualistic, the harder it is for us to work towards the common.

The key experiences I think of in this are are mission trips – to various places near and far, service projects within churches and organizations, simple acts of people coming together to help people in need, being part of campaigns and grassroots organizations toward a common purpose, and so forth.  These are all times I have experienced this. I have experienced this many times over and could list many different examples.  However, the key point for me is how we need to be cognizant of the others around us in our lives.  It is so easy to be very “me” or “us” focused that those beyond fall off our radar screen.

Yesterday morning, we focused on the story of Abraham and Isaac from Genesis 18.  By no means an easy story to deal with and there was far more that could have been said and questions wrestled with than we were able to have time to do yesterday morning.

Several people asked me for some more information about it and one of the resources I shared was Søren Kierkegaard’s book, Fear and Trembling, where he begins with four alternate re-tellings of the story.   It is an interesting and challenging read.  After his re-tellings, he goes into several further questions about the story.  It is by no means an easy read, but Kiergegaard does wrestle with some of the questions that come up in the story.

Fear and Trembling – Amazon.com

There are also many articles online that present a variety of different viewpoints on the text.  A good list of them can be found here at textweek.com.  This page also includes a link to many artistic representations of the story through history that are also very illuminating as we seek to interpret and work with this story.   I will warn you that some of the paintings of the story are very difficult to view, which is why I have not posted them on this page.

I hope that these links can help with your further reading and exploration of this story.

Talk about a hard question to answer…the others to this point have been ones that could be more at a distance – reflections upon more external issues, but with some measure of an internal.  This one is more focused on me and the ways that I have been created, gifted, the experiences I have gained, and how I share these things.  For me, I think the primary thing that I hope is that I am contributing to the whole.  I want to live in such a way as there is purpose in what I am doing and meaning in what I do – whether that is as a follower of Jesus, as a husband, as a father, as a friend, as a pastor.  One of the central passages of the Bible for me comes from Jeremiah 29:11 – “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

For me, this passage says that as God has laid out these plans, I need to seek to live in similar ways to bring about the welfare of others and to bring about healing and wholeness and not harm and ultimately to focus on the hope that there is beyond this life.  I think some of the things I am able to bring to that contribution is an ability to listen well (at least most of the time), an ability to see beyond the present, an openness to new ideas, a compassionate spirit, and a calming presence.  There are definitely other things, but those are the big ones that I have experienced in myself and have been affirmed by others along the journey.

As I thought about this, I also thought of a very significant hour of TV Amy and I watched several years ago.  There was a TV show, Ed (ironically enough) that we watched in the first few years of our marriage and one of the episodes the first season was entitled, “Live Deliberately” and it contrasted the life of trying to do everything versus a focus on simplicity and core ideals.  The episode was centered upon Thoreau’s quote from Walden:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion

Here’s the ending reflection of the episode upon that quote and Ed’s journey up the local mountain at the end…

To me, there is a profound call for us in this call to live deliberately and to live fully.  I guess, moving beyond just the lists and talents, etc, I hope that my contribution is helping people to live their lives in the fullest sense, experiencing and sharing the fullness of God, and the fullness of relationships with one another.

I feel another one of my manic reading periods coming on.

I started reading the book As Is: Unearthing Commonplace Glory =by Krista Finch tonight.  I read about the first 50 pages and had to put it down.  Not because it was troubling or difficult to read or anything of the sort, but instead I felt like I was missing something by reading so much so quickly.  The book is a collection of 1-2 page reflections grouped into sections.  I read the first two and when I came to the end of the 2nd, I felt like I had read so much that I needed to let what I had taken in thus far begin to settle in for a while.  My sense of the book to this point is that it is an exploration of the glimpses of heaven in the midst of real life, hence the title “As Is.”

As I read the first few sections, I heard about firefly chasing, children dancing before a camcorder, similarities to Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, and grace upon grace.  While I have not finished the book (I have about 150 pages more to go), I already cannot recommend it highly enough for someone looking for a book to simply refresh the spirit and nurture the soul.

As I thought of the title, I immediately went to a piece on the Lord’s Prayer composed by Ennio Morricone from his soundtrack composition for The Mission.  One of the pieces (youtube link below) is entitled “As it is in Heaven.”

It is the perfect compliment to Ms. Finch’s beautiful and encouraging words.  Listen to the piece a few times and I am sure you will have a bit of that commonplace glory that Ms Finch writes of.

One other note about the book – Ms Finch is donating 10% of all sales to IJM – International Justice Mission – in their work to help end modern day slavery.

Yesterday morning, after the 9:00 service, we heard the first rumors that a Wyoming High School student was killed in a car accident.  We weren’t sure who knew, whether it was just a rumor, or any further details.  Sadly, however, a little while later, it was confirmed that Richard Beck was killed in a car accident early Sunday morning.  Even though we knew nothing of it at the time, David and I spoke before the 8:00 service that it just seemed like there was a cloud over Wyoming that morning – maybe it was a sense of the news that we would be receiving a few hours later.

As I have posted in several other posts the last few years, there are no words that can explain this away, explain why it happened, and so forth.  There may be things learned from this in the days, weeks, and years to come, but in the now and even in the future, the shock, grief, and pain of this loss are inexpressible and not easily or quickly eased.

For me, in times like these, there are two places I go – to Scripture and to music.  I have always found the connection between Psalms 22 and 23 to be striking.  Psalm 23 is often used as one of the great songs of comfort in the Scriptures, yet one can’t read through to Psalm 23 without going through one of the most harrowing – Psalm 22.  Psalm 22 contains lines such as “My God why have you forsaken me?” and “O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest” among many others.  It is a song of lament, of crying out, of deep grief.  While it ends, like most Psalms do, with words of hope in the midst, it is a harrowing song to say the least.  And then one comes to Psalm 23 and its affirmation of hope of God’s presence in the midst of times of darkness, of hope for the future, and ultimately of God’s abiding presence in the now.  These Psalms do not explain away times like these, but they affirm that we are not alone in the questions we ask and the hope we are seeking.

As I said, I also go to music in times like this and I have listed to two songs several times over today, both from David Wilcox.  The first is a song called “If it Wasn’t For the Night“, which is actually a Christmas song he wrote.  But in the piece, he sings of the blooms breaking through the snow in the dark night of the soul.  Those words express my hope for this day and the days to come – finding hope in the darkness.  It also expresses the hope that we hold to as Christians that there is something beyond this life – the place where there is no more crying or pain.  The other song is “Show the Way” which speaks of being in that place of loss and fear and wondering when the way beyond will be made clear.  Both songs acknowledge the reality of the shock and pain we may feel today but also look toward hope ahead.

I pray through these words and songs today.  Praying for those who grieve deeply today.  Praying for the community of Wyoming.  Praying for hope to be seen in the darkness as the candles shone last night on the Wyoming Football field.

What is the relationship I want with the earth?  Definitely not something like this.  The stories of the oil slick in the gulf are heartbreaking about the impact that is already being felt, what is predicted to be, and how long the Gulf and the Gulf Coast will take to recover from this.  The sad part of this is that this is far from the only significant environmental issue that our world is facing.  Even taking out the discussions around global warming are the countless areas that we have utterly polluted in the world.  Power and Energy Magazine recently posted their list of the nine worst polluted places on Earth.

For me, the key scripture about our care of God’s creation comes out of Genesis 1:26-28.  We read:

Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.” ²⁷So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. ²⁸God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.”

One reading of this passage is that we have full right to do whatever we want to do with the earth because we’ve been told to subdue it and have dominion over it.  I have heard sermons and read messages many times to that direction.  I, however, feel that there is a different reading of it.  Its like when you receive a precious gift from a loved one.  Yes, we have every right to take that gift and abuse it, break it, etc.  Yes we can do that.  But should we?  Do actions such as that honor the giver as well as use the gift?  I feel similarly about our care of the earth as not only people of faith (as I happen to be), but each one of us as we live and breathe here.

This is the 6th in my series of posts answering the questions from Margaret Wheatley’s book, Turning to One Another.  By following this link, you can see my thoughts on the first five questions.  After this one, there are four other questions still to tackle…

Onto question number six – Am I willing to reclaim time to think?  There is rich irony in this question for my life right now.  The last question I answered was posted on February 25, so 48 days ago.  Interesting that in 48 days I was not able to make the time to respond to this question.  I guess that answers the question for me…

Seriously…As I write this, I think of Rodin’s famous sculpture, The Thinker…Reflecting upon that sculpture, I wonder how it must feel to have the time to just sit there, hand on chin and think in quiet solitude.  As a Myers-Briggs introvert, I am one who draws energy primarily from times such as this.  Times where I am able to simply be alone with my thoughts, with my self.  There are others (extraversion) who fall towards the other end of this spectrum whose energy is drawn primarily from times with others, in large groups, etc.  Neither of these are on a good/bad scale, simply personality preferences – they simply are “preferences” to use the MBTI terminology.

So, for me, there is an innate need to have that time for my own “psychic” health.  I often feel it quite strongly when I do not have time such as that.  In my life, it has become a reality that I need to have discipline to take the time to have these sorts of periods.  If I do not have the discipline around doing that, it does not happen.

Its also a message from Scripture that falls into this question.  In the creation story in Genesis, when the sixth day was completed, God set apart the seventh day as a day of rest and renewal.  As the Old Testament recounts the formation of the Israelite community, the seventh day / sabbath day is set apart for humans, for animals, even for the land.  It is a day set apart for God, for rest, for a break from the everyday.  Yet Sabbath is in short supply today, both in the choices we make and the choices in life made for us.

I think that for me, it is a regular choice “To Sabbath” – sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t.  Yet, when I do not, I eventually come to a place where I feel it within me that something has been missed.

Read this post today from internetmonk.com and felt it was worth reposting.  Some excellent thoughts here as we continue to celebrate the Eastertide season.  Jesus is risen!  He is risen indeed!

——

By Chaplain Mike.

Many of us in our Christian traditions learned to celebrate Christ’s resurrection on a day—Easter Sunday.

Easter is the great Lord’s Day, the climax of Holy Week, the high point of the Christian Year, marked by an explosion of color, wafting fragrance of lilies, majestic sounds of organ and baroque trumpets, bright new clothes, formal dinner with the family. A blissful Sabbath! Our little ones receive baskets of candies and toys, hunt for Easter eggs, strap on patent leather shoes, dress up like little ladies and gentlemen. We take their pictures out in the yard framed by the early blooms of spring. Women wear hats to church, white gloves. Even the men adorn themselves in pastels. This is the one Sunday we sing, “Christ the Lord is risen today! Alleluia!” The choir resounds with joyful praise. Everyone smiles. Such a happy day!

And then it’s over.

In the non-liturgical churches I have served as a pastor, the time after Easter was one of the few “lulls” in the year. For families, it formed the season between spring break and May, which where I live has become one of the busiest months of the year—with spring sports in full swing, summer sports like Little League beginning, end of school and church year programs, graduations, weddings, holidays like Mother’s Day, college students returning home, outdoor projects getting into full swing—and, of course, here in Indianapolis we have all “the month of May” activities leading up to the Indy 500 race. After the Easter event, and before the month of May, we had a period of relative quiet.

As an evangelical (and an American), it seems to me that I was always taught to think in terms of events. Events can be strategized, planned, advertised and marketed, organized, staffed, set up, prayed for, executed, cleaned up after, reviewed and evaluated, and followed up. It’s a typically business-like approach. A well-run event can make a big splash, leave a lasting impression, and play a crucial role in forming a group of people into a community.

However, as I have more seriously considered the practice of the liturgical year, I have been challenged to think more in terms of seasons than simply in terms of events. Seasons force us to face the “dailyness” of life rather than simply its special points.

It’s like the difference between a wedding and a marriage. Or the birth of a baby and learning to care for an infant.

We love Christmas, but it is in Advent that we learn to long and pray day by day for Christ to come. And it is in Christmastide (the days following Christmas) that we take time to gaze with wonder into the face of the incarnate baby Jesus, to do as Mary did, “treasuring all these things in her heart.”

And so it is with Easter. Easter is a season, not just a day. On the Christian calendar, the period that begins on Easter Sunday is called “The Great Fifty Days,” “Pascha,” or “Eastertide.”

Writing in The Complete Library of Christian Worship V, Marjorie Proctor-Smith says,

Celebrating Easter for fifty days is a Christian practice almost as ancient as the annual observance of Easter. …The term Pentecost was first used by Christians to refer to this seven-week period as a unit: “the Pentecost,” or the fifty days. It was only later that the term was applied to the fiftieth day, at which time then the fifty days was called the Easter season.

The importance of this period for the ancient church is reflected in the language used by early writers wen speaking of it, and the practices which their comments reveal. Tertullian refers to the period, which he called the Pentecost, as a laetissimum spatium, a “most joyous space” in which it is especially fitting that baptisms take place. Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, write an annual “Festal Letter” to the church in which he announced the date of Easter, which “extends its beams, with unobscured grace, to all the seven weeks of holy Pentecost.” In every letter Athanasius emphasizes the centrality of the Easter observance for Christians, speaking of the fifty days especially as a time of joy and fulfillment: “But let us now keep the feast, my beloved, not as introducing a day of suffering but of joy in Christ, in whom we are fed every day.” It was, quite simply, a “Great Sunday” which lasted for seven weeks, a week of Sundays, wherein the church celebrated on a large scale the resurrection of Christ. “All of Pentecost,” writes Basil of Caesarea, “reminds us of the resurrection which we await in the other world.”

Seeing Easter as a season rather than a day might help us grasp more fully the meaning and implications of Christ’s resurrection.

• What a wonderful season in which to study the post-resurrection appearances! The ascension! The promise of the Spirit! The new covenant!

• To lavishly decorate our sanctuaries and celebrate Christ’s resurrection with exuberance for seven Sundays rather than just one!

• To have “Emmaus Road” Bible studies that show how all the Scriptures point to Jesus and his finished work.

• To celebrate the Lord’s Supper more often with a specific focus on Christ’s promise that we will share it new with him in the coming kingdom.

• To teach Biblically sound eschatology that grounds people in the Christian hope and the coming of the new creation.

• To explore the “Great Commission” the risen Christ gave to us and to practice “going and telling” the Good News of our risen Savior in various ways throughout our communities.

• To regularly celebrate baptisms and hear testimonies of those who have experienced new life in Christ.

• To hold special meetings for prayer as the disciples did, asking for God to fill us anew with his Holy Spirit that we might become more fully and joyously engaged in his mission in the world.

Many Christians assume that Easter is commemorated on just one day. It’s an event. After it’s over, we move on to something else.

But this cannot be. We are Easter people! The first Sunday of Easter is the beginning, not the climax of the season.

As the disciples grew in their understanding and love for the risen Christ over the great fifty days when he arose, appeared to them, ascended into heaven, and poured out the Holy Spirit upon them, may we too experience Easter throughout the entire season to come!

———

Crossposted from Michael Spencer, internetmonk.com, April 4, 2010

There are several authors that I have struggled to connect with over the years.  Barbara Brown Taylor is one of them – until her most recent book, An Altar in the World, I had never actually finished one of her books.  Its nothing against her writing personally, but it just never seemed to connect with me.  NT Wright is another of those authors – I have tried reading several of his books in the past and ran into the same thing that I did with BBT – I just didn’t seem to connect or get drawn into the his writings.

I wish that I could say that I had a revelatory moment with Wright’s newest book, After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters, but honestly it didn’t happen.  Technically I did finish the book, but it was not without a lot of skimming and feeling like I was going over ground that had already been covered.

Wright has an excellent point as the thesis of this book and I completely resonate with his central point.  Our character as Christians matters and matters absolutely.  He begins the book with an illustration of a conversation with a young man who basically asked Wright several years ago, “Ok, I believe in Christ, so now what?”  This young man was struggling with the “what’s next” of Christianity where he had heard so much about accepting Christ as Savior and receiving the gift of new life, but he wasn’t hearing a lot more in the church he was attending about the “what’s next.”

I 100% resonate with Wright’s central premise of the book that it definitely matters what’s next – not in a legalistic “earn your salvation” type of way, but in a life-change sort of way.  Our character matters, how we are reflecting the reality of Christ’s work in the here and now matters, and not just being sure that our names are written in heaven.  So, I resonate with Wright’s overall point, but as I have struggled with in the past, I did not resonate with the writing itself.

Wright makes many excellent points throughout the book and I do recommend the read, especially if you are asking a similar question about “what’s next”.  It may connect with you in a way that it did not wth me.  I am thankful for Wright’s book and for the point he is making because I think its a message that needs to be heard and taken in.