Skip to content

Category: vulnerability

Formed by the Spirit

“Formed by the Spirit.”

Wow! That’s a pretty loaded phrase. I mean, what does that even mean? Lots of folks over the centuries have tried to define that in ways that are clearly and easily understood by people. They offer suggestions about reading Holy Scripture so that, “The Word may dwell richly within you.” Hey, that sounds good! Or, “Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind,” to quote St. Paul’s missive to the Church at Rome. What does THAT mean? Others say that to be formed by the Spirit involves learning all that we can about “why we believe what we believe.” The big word for that is Apologetics. I have found that kind of approach really only creates arrogant, ignorant people.

What about prayer? Surely, that must form people in a spiritually kind of…thing. Right?

Maybe. Again, what does that mean? How can I, or anyone, perform any ritual, be it reading, praying, attending a church, or whatever that will actually allow for Spiritual Formation?

As you might guess, I do have an idea or two. Well, maybe only one. I’m really not sure myself. But, I think that it stars with…wait for it…Grace.

What?!? Grace? Now, what does THAT mean?

It means that I have no idea. It means that I’m not the one making the call. It means that any formation, or better, transformation is by nature out of my hands.

Now, I also want to make something else clear. We are NOT without responsibility in this. At the end of the day, I must make the decision to accept that grace. But, I truly think that’s pretty much all that I can do. Why, you ask? Why am I not more integrally culpable in my own formation? I think the easiest answer is the first one to come to my mind.

So that I may have nothing to boast about.

That’s right, kids. If I don’t have the wheel in my hands. If someone else is driving, re. God, then I can’t go around telling folks to “Look at ME! I’m spiritual!

Another reason that may not be as obvious, but is certainly more important, is that I really don’t know what it is that I really need. What does formation look like in my life? I am truly without a clue. But, there is One Who does know.

That’s where faith comes in. “Faith,” you ask, “Do you mean blind following your invisible friend to some unknown destination”? Well, no, not at all.

It means that no matter what practices I may find myself doing, I trust that God is doing something. What that is I neither know nor care. Not in my pay grade. It means that I accept that God actually DESIRES to be graciously active in my life. And, that God is actually CAPABLE of being active in my life. Perhaps more importantly, that God actually IS active in my life. There is no following the Yellow Brick Road to some paradisiacal Emerald City. There is only faith.

That, my friends, is where Spiritual Formation is securely moored.

What that all looks like is impossible to describe. For every person there is a different world being created. God doesn’t work in systematic ways that can easily be adduced and analyzed and then mass produced for everyone. No. Can’t be done. Although, many have tried with their surveys and polls. God is Spirit. God is essentially “Other.” We cannot describe nor define God. Period.

We can only sit quietly and let God’s grace flow over us, through us…permeate every cell. To, in essence, alter our Spiritual DNA.

Leave a Comment

Adrift

Today I feel lost, adrift on an unseen current that flows…

Where?

Not able to see the light that pulses from with your eyes.

I cannot hear the rhythm of your heart as we fold together as One.

Arms; Legs; Hearts…Souls

Truly I wish for that glow that guides without guile

That I may grab the tiller of my heart and

Find You.

Leave a Comment

æther-real

Reach upwards, O my Soul!

Climb to the heavens where the gods dwell!

Breathe deeply of the æther, that luminiferous element through

Which light flows and eddies in the far reaches of the Universe.

Seek the Heart of the Great God from Whom emanates all

Life and Light.

Bask in the radiant glow of God’s visage as it searches;

Hearts to mend; Minds to heal.

Yet, I do not need to search far.

For, who must fly to the High Heavens?

Or, who must descend to the Great Depths?

The æther in which this Deity Dwells ebbs and flows

Within.

Leave a Comment

Freedom

“Cold hearted orb that rules the night,” proclaimed the Minstrel in Song.

His connection to the River of Creativity that courses through the Universe, wetting our souls with deep insight and wisdom, revealed that to him as “Truth.”

But, is it truly?

No. I think not.

Born in torment, Artemis broke free and roamed the wilds seeking her own under the silver, lunar light that illumines the night; illumines the heart.

“Freedom,” the goddess cried out in the forest she so loved.

Freedom, in the water reflection of her friend and charge as its image rippled on the surface of the water.

“Cold hearted orb?”

No.

Rather, freedom that shines in the silver-lumined teardrop that slips silently down my cheek.

Leave a Comment

Broken?

STOP!

I’m not an object that you can “fix”!

I am who I am. So, deal with it or go away!

I’m not interested in your boundaries. “Who is right? Who is wrong?”

It just doesn’t matter to me.

So, get off it!

You look at me as a problem to be solved. A piece of broken pottery that, maybe with a little Super Glue, you can build me into something that makes sense to you.

Sorry, but NO!

I AM NOT BROKEN!

I AM!!!

Leave a Comment

Lying Eyes

“You know that I don;t love you,” she said. Her dark brown eyes gazing intently into my blue ones.

“Yes,” said I. “And, I don’t love you.”

As we continued to look into each other’s soul, my mind wandered down a long, dark hallway. At the end there was a door the color of the sky just before the darkening clouds rush in from the West.

Behind the door, a room like someone’s attic. It was filled with boxes written upon with “Kitchen,” or “Master Bdrm.” There were old lamps and even a broken down old refrigerator. All of these coated in a thick layer of dust accumulated over many years of lying here.

Hidden.

Unwanted.

Forgotten.

A sudden movement caught my eye. I glanced to my left and saw a tiny flash of light. I walked toward it, moving some old box, “Misc. Junk.” I looked down and saw a small creature. It reminded me of a firefly that floated silently above the floor. But, this was no insect. It had arms and legs. There was a face framed by golden hair cut short in a sort of bob cut.

I was caught, captivated, enthralled at this sight. “I’ve never seen anything like you!” The creature flew up so that we were face to face. Her radiant smile, (for the creature was surely a “Her”), spoke to my heart in ways that words cannot possibly express.

“I have been here for a very long time,” she said. “I have waited these many long years hidden among the dusty clutter of your heart. Waiting for this moment.”

With that she dove into my chest.

What warmth! The heat spread from my chest to my arms, my legs. It surged like a tsunami to by mind.

And, then I knew.

Suddenly, I was back sitting across from her. Her brown eyes still gazing into mine.

And, I saw a light within those eyes.

“We say there is no love. Yet, our eyes,” says I, “our eyes say Yes.”

Leave a Comment

Where the Wind

My heart hurts.

Torn by the Wind

Casting Aeolian dust in a minor key.

Obscuring hopes of enlightenment.

Darkening the landscape with glass mites that bore and shred,

Creating raw contours. Exposing nerve and synapse to

Elements tormenting.

How this affectation effects affection?

Where is affection?

I don’t know.

Lost to the Wind.

Leave a Comment

Introspection

I’m getting older.

Ok. That’s no surprise to anyone. We all are.

But, as I approach retirement sometime next year, I’ve spent considerable time in self-reflection. I search within to see if there actually has been any purpose to this life of mine.

I find little there.

Yeah, I followed the path that stretched before me. A path, by the way, that was mapped and defined by minds and wills other than my own. I have had my shares of humanity’s ubiquitous ‘Ups and Downs.’ Clearly, nothing out of the ordinary. I experienced many things that others have not. Some good; some not so much. Overall, my time walking this life has been functional, yet nondescript.

I have not had to struggle like so many in the world. Creature comforts have been available to me. I don’t need to walk 5 miles to a common well in order to have water to drink. There are several taps in my house that readily deliver that life sustaining liquid. Nor, am I required to sit and beg or dive into dumpsters for food. My local Mega Mart has everything that I could possibly want or need to satisfy the grumbling in my gut. Clothes, shelter, family…all of the things that seem to define the so-called American Dream have materialized before me.

So, what do I lack? For I must lack something.

In all of my travels and experiences I have never truly experienced happiness.

Maybe, happiness is simply overrated. I was told many years ago that as a Christ follower I should have something called ‘Joy.’ They said that happiness is nothing but a counterfeit version of Joy. We should not seek that at all.

But, when in every waking moment it feels like I have a Dementor from the world of Harry Potter sitting on my shoulder, well, something is amiss.

People I talk to about this don’t understand. They look at the stuff I have and the things that I’ve experienced and tell me that I should be glad.

Yet, the emptiness, the sadness remain.

“See a doctor and get some medication because what you describe sounds like simple depression that can easily be treated.”

Nope. Been there; done that. Medication doesn’t help. It only flattens my emotions until I feel nothing at all. Better to feel pain than everlasting numbness.

“Jesus is the answer to all of your problems.”

I’m sorry to say that’s simply not true. Contrary to what so many in the fundagelical world say, there is no God Shaped hole in us that only Jesus can fill. But, there does seem to be something that is missing. But, God isn’t it.

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” Qoheleth encourages. For what else is there for humanity to enjoy? Well, I can do one of those three things. Drinking is off the table because, well, I’m a recovering alcoholic and that wouldn’t be a good thing. Be merry? Well, that’s kind of the point of this post. Being merry eludes me.

Now, before anyone decides that I must be broken and that you are the one person in the world appointed to fix me.

Don’t. Please.

I’m not broken.

Sad? Yes.

Lonely? Ok.

Unsatisfied? Definitely.

But, this is how I feel. And, yes, feelings matter.

I have no intention of throwing in the towel and surrendering to despair. I also have no intention of lying to myself about my own reality.

Yeah, I’m getting older. But, as Dylan Thomas wrote,

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I intend to follow his lead.

Leave a Comment

Sunday Morning Lament

As I sat in silence this morning I saw an image of the president of the U.S.
standing in the rain praising a ruling by a judge in Texas that states that the
Affordable Care Act, the so-called “Obama Care,” is unconstitutional.
My mind showed me the many people, conservatives, who have spent the
last several years trying undo this simple act to help people who desperately need
the help. I asked Why? Why do these people work so hard in order to hurt others?
As my thoughts took wing, I looked down on the people lined up at our borders.
Why are the institutions that we have created trying so hard to hurt others?
I saw the poor in other countries with no clean water or consistent food source.
Why are those governments not helping their own people? They only heap up riches
and power for themselves.
I considered the so-called religious of our culture. What are they doing? After all, aren’t
they all followers of Jesus?
Who was this Jesus? “Behold, the Kingdom of God is near!” he said.
Yeah?
Where?
Because, I’m not seein’ it.
I’m not seein’ it at all.

“How long, O Lord?”
People have said this simple prayer for thousands of years.

“How long, O Lord?”
Will You wait?
Will You allow injustice?
Until You uphold the widow? The orphan? The stranger?

“How long, O Lord?”
Our governments are corrupt. Our leaders care only about their own power and prestige.
They abuse those that they have been called on to serve.

“How long, O Lord?”
The institutions that are established suffer from rot. They care only about surviving.
They care not a whit for those that put their trust in them.

“How long, O Lord?”
The systems that prevail over all things are altogether corrupt.
Racism, sexism, corporations…all tools of the powerful against Everyone Else.

“How long, O Lord?”
Atheists trust in knowledge and humanity’s ability to grow. They trust in the wind.
Progressive Christians trust in humanity’s ability to usher in the Kingdom of God.
How many centuries ago was this proven to be folly?
Evangelicals. Well, they are just dangerous. They hide behind their faux faith and
Like the Pharisees of old, “do not enter the Kingdom and prevent others from doing so.
Rome is altogether corrupt. Self-seeking old men who crave honor, prestige, and power.
Yet, they have castrated themselves and are now impotent.
Orthodox seek God in Spirit and Truth. Yet, they do nothing for anyone outside of their
own cloisters and cathedrals.

“How long, O Lord?”
Martin hoped that the arc of history would bend toward justice.
I don’t see it.

“How long, O Lord?”

Leave a Comment

Growing Up…Growing Apart

I grew up in a small neighborhood. My street had 3 houses on it and what seemed like miles and miles of woods. At one end of the street was Lake Rd. Cars, trucks, and busses flew up and down that thoroughfare. My parents made sure that I understood that any attempted crossing of that barrier would result in my instant death. At the other end of the street were cliffs that led down to Lake Erie. Again, my ever-loving parents put the fear of God into me. Jesus may have walked on water, but I surely could not.

There was another street next to ours. It had a lot of small cottages on it. Apparently, the street had been a resort of sorts for folks from the Big City, Cleveland, to come to on summer weekends to get away from it all.

Living in one of those cottages was a family whose roots were in West Virginia. At that time there were 5 people in the family. Dad, Mom, and 3 little girls. I remember spending time there playing with them. The oldest was 5. She was something about her that made her special to 6 year old me. If I had to describe it, I was madly in love with her. (At least as a 6 year old could understand that!) She had braces on her legs and couldn’t walk well. I had no idea what caused that. And, I didn’t really care. All I did care about was making her laugh. And she did laugh! She was a very happy child who brightened by soul.

One day I went there and she was gone. I didn’t know for sure where she went. I do remember one time driving with my parents and passing a local hospital. My mom pointed at it told me that my friend had gone there. Later, they told me she had died. Six year old me really had no idea what that meant. After all, when our dog suddenly disappeared my parents told me that she had gone to live on someone’s farm. For all I knew, my young friend had simply gone to live somewhere that she could be cared for.

At the end of that street there was one of the few non-cottages. It was a fairly large house. The family that lived there had 4 kids, 2 boys and 2 girls. To get to their house I had to follow a path through the woods that grew next to my house. We were roughly the same age, give or take a couple years. I remember that their youngest daughter was my first real crush. Yep! Seven years old and madly in love! Ah…those were good times! I became friends with one of the boys. They had an old camper that the two of us used to climb up on and then jump off of holding on to an umbrella that we were sure would be just as good as a parachute. It’s a wonder that we didn’t break our legs…or our necks. Inside their house they had an old pump organ. It was one of those instruments that you had to pump pedals in order to build up air that would generate sound. My friend knew part of one song. But, he may as well have been a virtuoso to me. It was at his house that I learned the time honored practice of making prank phone calls. You know, “Hello! Is your refrigerator running? It is? Well, you better run and catch it!” Ha ha ha! We would also have carnivals at my house. All of us kids would hang in my back yard and devise carny games and side-show acts. My friend liked to be the ‘Man with a Thousand Shirts.’ He would put on six or seven t-shirts and act like he was at the doctor’s. His brother played the doctor. When he was told to take off his shirt he did. But, of course there was another one under it. For a bunch of 1st to 4th graders in the early 1960s this was great fun!

Eventually, all of my friends moved away and we drifted apart.

It was odd, though, that over the years we all came to embrace religion. And, we all came to it in its Evangelical form. My friends who had the daughter who had passed when she was 5 were devout Baptists. When I came to faith in my teens the Mom was glad and made sure to tell me that she had been praying for me. She was a super lady and I loved her deeply. Sadly for us, she has passed on to her Glory. My other friend who wore too many shirts went on to become a pastor. We have been able to reconnect through social media.

For anyone who knows me they realize that I no longer hold to the Evangelical way of following Jesus. Perhaps because I wasn’t born and raised in that tradition I had a different perspective. I came from a rock-n-roll rebel background. I am wont to say that “I once was a Hippie, then I was a Reagan Republican. Now, I’m a Hippie again.” That whole Reagan thing came about because of the Evangelical crowd I was a part of at that time. I remember in 1980 hanging a sign in my area at work that read, “Vote Republican for a Change.” The only reason that I felt that way, besides the conservative religious folks I hung with, was the single issue of abortion. Evangelicals changed the way they thought about that in the late 70s. Jerry Falwell, Sr. and his Moral Majority grabbed hold of that and so did the Republican Party. Since then, sadly, Evangelicals and Republicans have been together between the sheets doing the Monkey dance. I think that we are seeing the progeny of that coupling in our politics today. It’s not pretty.

So, I and my friend have grown apart when it comes to a certain way of religious practice and our politics. Yet, we still follow each other on Facebook. I think that we could sit together and laugh and drink coffee while reminiscing about those days way back when. Yes, we will not agree on a lot of things. But I am finding that if people put their minds to the task of trying NOT to be divisive and to respect the other’s opinion there can be healthy relationships.

People grow. People change. And, people are strengthened by diversity. Relationships come and go. Still, I find it refreshing that after so many years and such divergent paths, I can still find a kindred spirit to share with on the journey.

Leave a Comment