Backyard Hospitality

I recently signed up to review the book Strangers at My Door by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. In it he tells of the failures, successes, and surprises of treating everyone who comes to the door at their house as if the person was Jesus. This is an ancient practice, outlined by St. Benedict in his monastic rule over 1500 years ago (and was likely around before that, but the Benedictines have kept the practice alive).

Tonight I had the opportunity to practice treating the strangers in my yard like Jesus. This is where people interact with me more. My youngest and I were out in the yard throwing around a football tonight. First, a woman approached the fence. She said she had been walking through the neighborhood trying to find some work...her check hadn't come today and she had a young one at home to feed.

In our part of the world, there are a lot of people out there asking for food and money. On weekends I can see several people on street corners in a short drive. Sometimes we keep food in the car to give them; sometimes I turn a blind eye.

It was easier to help the woman tonight. She wasn't asking for money or a hand out. She was asking if she could do some cleaning or some other work for us and afterward we'd take her to the grocery store for food. We're low on food in the house, but we put together a bag of somethings to hopefully help her and her family. She was grateful at least.

A little while later an older man came along and was commenting on how nice it was to see my son and I playing catch. He was encouraging Nils to keep getting better. Apparently he had seen him rollerblading and playing street hockey with Beth a few weeks ago. He was encouraging and appreciative that we were spending time together as a father and son.

Even from a few yards away, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It would have been easy to dismiss him as just some drunk. And if he had been surly, or cursing, or loud, I probably would have. But it was easy to engage him and be respectful in hearing what he wanted to say.

Not long afterward our neighbor from down the block brought her dog up to play catch in the yard with the boys.

I am not always good at engaging the person walking by my yard. Sometimes I'm caught up in gardening or yard work. Sometimes I don't want to acknowledge them. Sometimes they don't want to be acknowledged. I've had my share of really bad experiences with people on the other side of the fence, too. But I'm finding that I need to see the other and treat them as Jesus as best I can. Tonight was rewarding in ways that I wouldn't have been looking for.

Art and Self-Care

My wife was gracious and gave me time to get out by myself today (she had some time yesterday--hockey was her preferred event). It had been a stressful week for both of us, and we're learning to take the time to take care of ourselves. I got some time alone at the YMCA (usually I have the children with me). Then I headed to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts to explore and take some pictures.

Next time I need to remember to also take my sketchbook and pencils. I need to just sit and take it easy, relaxing and reflecting. I tend to try and take in as much as I can otherwise. Still, it was enjoyable to look and take some pictures. 

As I was looking at a special Henri Matisse exhibit, I heard an elementary-aged girl tell her parents, "I could draw that." I heard her say that about a few other pieces of art. And she may have been right. We've all thought that at times--especially with some of the modern art pieces. 

And it may be true. We may be able to come up with a very similar drawing. But usually we haven't. Some of it is our lack of connections in the art world. But likely it's just because we haven't taken the time to draw or paint something. Or possibly we could do something similar, but we probably haven't had the amount of practice or training it takes to come up with the right lines and curves or hues.

The same goes with self-care. I know that I need it. I know it's good for me. But I'm not always good about taking the time. I don't always do it very well because I haven't practiced or planned enough to do the things that are restful, re-energizing, or renewing for me.

I took a nice solo camping overnight last fall, but I haven't gotten much else done for a while other than an occasional trip to the Y or a little time in the basement painting. It's important I do take time for myself. It's important my wife does as well. It's important that we have time together as a family (we went to see The Lego Movie yesterday). It's important my wife and I have time together (which is often the hardest to fit in). 

There is beauty in art. There is necessity in self-care. Maybe there's a bit of beauty and necessity in both.

Advent Rant

Nils and I were at the Holidazzle Parade a few weeks ago, braving the chilly Minnesota temperatures to stand outside and watch lighted floats slowly go by. One of the men in front of us at one point heckled, "Where are the menorahs? Where is the Kwanza float? This is the Holidazzle Parade, not the Christmas Parade!"

But it wasn't a Christmas parade. The floats were all from storybooks for the most part: Peter Pan, Hansel and Gretel, The Wizard of Oz, Pinocchio. And of course Santa Claus.

Nothing in the parade was focused at all on the Christ-mass. No shepherds. No angels. No Mary and Joseph. And definitely no baby Jesus. It wasn't truly a Christmas parade.

But it's not even Christmas yet. Soon. But not yet. It's Advent.

I heard a Christian singer being interviewed on the radio the other day. He was saying how he gets legalistic about Christmas. No decorations should be up until after Thanksgiving and then it's all down by New Year's Day. But if he wants to get legalistic, shouldn't he wait until Christmas Day, or at least Christmas Eve, and keep everything up until at least the twelfth day of Christmas?

Over the past few years there has been some outrage over stores telling their employees to say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Chirstmas." Recently the GOP had been selling a t-shirt which reads on the front: "Only liberals say 'Happy Holidays;'" and on the back: "Merry Christmas!" As if Christmas were a political platform. (Apparently they removed that shirt from their store this week.)

Should the church be upset with people saying "Merry Christmas" before December 25? Instead we should all be wishing each other a "Peaceful Advent!"

Of course, even in the church, not everyone agrees on Christmas. Many Orthodox Christians celebrate Christmas on January 6. Some branches of Protestantism don't even celebrate Christmas at all, believing it's not proper to have a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

I don't mean to go all Pope Francis on you, but if we're going to advocate for "putting Christ back in Christmas," shouldn't we also advocate for "putting the mass back in Christmas" as well?

My point? I'm not sure. I guess I just felt like a good rant (just wait until my Santa rant tomorrow). But I think it may be that we all have different approaches to celebrating this season. It's not a battle ground or a political ideology.

I happen to like Advent. We have our Advent candles on our kitchen table along with the devotion we read from. We often don't put up our tree until St. Nicholas or Santa Lucia Day (though we went earlier this year because of my wife's travels). Our magi and camels are no where near the nativity yet. They're traveling until Epiphany on January 6. Baby Jesus won't be in the manger until Christmas morning.

It's important to make this season meaningful for you and your family. And not in a gift-giving or holiday event way. (And I don't mind using the word holiday because I know it's root is "holy day." A day set apart. If anything, let's reclaim the "holy-days." Make them sacred. Make them holy. Remember why we observe them. Whether it's St. Nicholas Day, Christmas, the feast of the Holy Family, or Epiphany.

Until then, have a peaceful Advent.

Camping Alone: A Story of Solitude

I'm doing something I haven't done since college: camping alone. And back then it was for RA training. We all got dropped off in the woods (okay it was really an old cattle pasture) for a night of solitude.

My wife's been encouraging me for a while to take some time by meals for retreats since I'm with the kids all the time and she gets to do several trips for her work. I'm bad at relinquishing my duty of parenthood, but part if being a good parent is self care. 

I've been wanting to go camping this fall but it hasn't worked out to do yet. So this  weekend my wife said why don't you go camping by yourself. And I finally listened to her. 

After lunch I loaded up my backpack with a few clothes, camping pillow, mat, sleeping bag, and tent. I gathered the camping bin to extract a few supplies from and some reading material. My wig had made me a hobo dinner packet for supper and I gathered some hard boiled eggs and fruit for breakfast (though the banana apparently got left at home) and some sunflower seeds for snacking on while hiking. 

It started sprinkling about a half hour before I reached the state forest where I planned to camp. It continued for almost four more hours. 

This is not what I had in mind. I had hoped for time to hike and sit around the campsite reading, writing, and talking with God. I was able to get the tent up before it started coming down harder, but as I sat in the car seeing the drops roll down the windshield I wondered if I should just head back home before paying for a night. 

I had looked at the forecast in the morning. That 30% chance of rain was feeling more like 30% of the day. But it wasn't too heavy and it said it would let up before night so I decided to stay and go for a hike. As long as it wasn't too heavy of a rain I should be able to stay relatively dry under the forest canopy. 

I hiked for about 3 hours. I never encountered another person (though I did hear gunshots a few times). Even the wildlife was silent. I only heard birds twice. I never saw an animal--not even a squirrel. 

This was solitude. So why wasn't I hearing anything from God?  I wanted some spiritual direction, some healing, some psychological break through. I got nothing. 

I called a friend who I check in with weekly. I needed to talk. I got his voice mail. But as I left a message I realized that I was mostly struggling because my expectations weren't being met. 

Yes, the weather wasn't great but I was still getting time alone. And maybe God wasn't speaking in the way I wanted, but His creation was beautiful. I was getting some good exercise, taking some fun photographs, and breathing fresh air in deeply. God was present. 

I am sitting around the campfire now allowing myself this technological moment to type since it is too dark to read or write and my lantern didn't charge for some reason. 

Wolves or coyotes had been howling in the distance. I love the sound. But apparently I've read too many stories of Pa getting surrounded by wolves in the Little House on the Prairie books because I just got freaked out when I heard some breathing and rustling next to me. That's when I discovered that the lantern didn't charge. Once I got my phone unlocked and found my flashlight app I saw something black wandering back in the woods. Probably just a raccoon. Little bugger. 

That's one of the downsides to solitude: no one to talk you out of your irrational fears in the dark. Still, the sign about bears didn't help. At least the moon is out now. It's quite chilly though and the fire is slowly dying down so I think I'll head to my tent soon. 

Old Blue is the second tent I ever owned (the first being a pup tent my parents got with green stamps from the grocery store when I was going into 6th grade). She's just a cheap 2-person dome tent (really cheap) and she's been around since college I think, but she didn't leak any rain. She now has a set of large nails for tent pegs and most of the poles have at least one crack. Still, she held up. Thankfully my sleeping bag isn't cheap. My fingers are starting to get numb outside. Time to go bundle up and listen to the wolves howl at the moon.

It got cold overnight. I went for a hike around 8:30 or 9 and there were places with frost. As sunlight hit the trees, the leaves began dripping the melted frost.

I stayed fairly warm overnight. But the two problems of camping in the cold are: 1) having to get up and pee in the middle of the night (and with a good sleeping bag, generally you stay warmer by wearing fewer clothes, so I'm usually in my undies and a t-shirt) and 2) trying to get clothes on in the morning while staying within the confines of your sleeping bag--especially a mummy bag. Thankfully, I managed both.

I headed home wishing the time alone was more. Maybe I should have prayed more. Maybe I have more I need to confess to unblock something between me and God. Maybe I should have left my camera/phone in my pocket so I wasn't distracted by using technology and looking for pictures to take. These thoughts all crossed my mind. I had wanted to hear more from God.

I can come up with my excuses and find reasons to blame myself for the time of solitude not going the way I desired. I don't know why it wasn't the deeply spiritual experience I hoped it was. But I'm sure plenty of dessert fathers and mothers experienced that almost every day as they spent years in solitude. Sometimes it's just about obedience and taking the time away to listen.

I wonder if listening with my ears was less important than listening with my other senses. I did see God's awesomeness through the colors and sights of autumn. I breathed in the freshness of the woods, being reminded of God's provision for life each day. While reading around the campfire, I was reminded of God's crazy love for me. Maybe those things were all I needed to hear.

It's Not Easy, Not Being Green

My greatest struggle with social networking is jealousy. There; I said it.

Right now I saw on Facebook that a cousin of mine is away on vacation for a week with her husband while her mom watches her children. I am jealous that her mom lives close by and isn't working so that she's able to be available to watch the grandchildren. I am jealous that they are able to get away for a week together.

I get jealous seeing that a classmate of mine is successfully getting her book plugged on news reports and radio shows. I get jealous reading of all her travels in her book.

Of course I overlook the other circumstances in their lives--that my cousin's dad died from cancer years ago, that my friend's book is based on her having 50 dates in 50 states as she searched for a man to spend her life with. If they allowed themselves, they may have been jealous of my father still being alive or of me having a spouse and children.

I can get jealous of others' job endeavors, financial successes, ability to go to concerts and plays, camping trips, and even just that they had some time for bike ride by themselves. (Edit: Let me be clear that it's not that my wife doesn't give me time for bike rides or that we don't go camping. I can simply be jealous when others get to do it when I'm not. Or that someone has the time and ability to do a 40 mile bike ride. Or that someone is camping in Glacier National Park when we're at a state park just outside the Cities. It's my twisted perspective on things.)

My jealousy, of course, has nothing to do with them at all. It is all about me. Actually, that's the issue. That I'm trying to make it all about me. I'm comparing myself to them and their circumstances. I'm wishing I had what they have.

But it's me who is not being content. I'm not focusing on the blessings I have. I'm not being thankful for the opportunities my friends have.

A year or so ago a friend gave me the book 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp. It's a book by a woman who has seen plenty of loss and trials, but she has also found blessing by focusing on gratitude. She made a list of 1000 things she was thankful for in her daily life.

I've got a notebook that I'm trying to do the same experiment in. I'm up to 157 things I'm thankful for. Honestly, most of the time I forgot to write in it. Most days I forget to keep gratitude before me.

Sure, I take a moment before meals and when putting the boys to bed to thank God for the food we have, the day He gave us, and a assorted other things, but I admit that it's sometimes a perfunctory action. I seldom keep an attitude of gratitude before me throughout my day.

And this is really the issue at stake. It isn't about what others have or what I don't have. It's about God. He has given me everything I need. Way more than I need.

So when I see a friend post that they're backpacking through Glacier National Park or getting away for a romantic weekend with their wife at a cabin or selling their book well, I can stop and be happy for them. I can give thanks that they are able to have those opportunities.

But more importantly, I can look around me at all I have and give thanks for it.

For wonderful kids, a beautiful wife, a stable roof over our heads, a steady job, a beautiful world to explore, and more than I need: I give thanks.

Spiritual Goals Failure

I confess: my spiritual life this summer is not going as I had planned.

I had planned to fit in some quiet time each day to stay caught up on my Bible reading. 

I had planned to maybe do a fast ever-so-often to acknowledge that sometimes I desire food more than I should and to temper that time with prayer.

I had planned to be more prayerful and practice more spiritual disciplines.

I had planned on practicing the presence of God more.

I haven't done much of any of those things. I am reading some good spiritual writing, yes. And I take time every once in a while to journal/blog--especially after church so I can reflect on what God's saying to me. But these are my typical practices.

Yet, it doesn't do me any good to feel shame about my lack of progress. 

Maybe I just need to adjust my plans to what the realities of summer are. I do need to be more spiritual disciplined--that I will still confess.

But I am also connecting with God--just not in the ways I had planned. 

When I am outside in natural settings, I tend to be more in-tune with God's presence. And I am outside a lot more in the summer. It is refreshing and draining at the same time.

I am in my yard a bit more, which helps me connect with neighbors more. I am spending more time with friends at soccer practices, camping trips, and picnics. I am connecting more with others. When I am more connected to others I tend to be more connected to God. Relationships are at the core of a spiritual life. It is how God created us to be.

I am with my children each day. Now, while sometimes they do want to make me curse, most of the time we are together enjoying summer activities and I am striving to be a better parent. In practicing a more conscientious fatherhood, I feel more connected to my Heavenly Father.

I am also enjoying life more. Yes, there is a never-ending stream of housework and chores to do. I am trying to work on some writing projects and marketing my book. Summer is very busy. But I also don't take it as serious as I do the rest of the year where I'm giving it all at work, then coming home to make supper and clean, and not having much time for other things. And it's not that I'm not enjoying the rest of the year, but I'm definitely more caught up in the busyness of life. With about 10 weeks of summer break, I want to make the most of it. And I think God intends life to be as much about enjoyment as He does work. Often our work distracts us, makes us more selfish/greedy, or diverts us from the things that matter.

And, yes, I can often distract myself with meaningless distractions. I work a lot, to be sure; but I confess to times when I get lost in something that's really a time waster. 

There's a lot about summer that doesn't go as planned. I think I always expect it to be three full months long, rather than just two. I haven't been in my hammock once.  So I guess that's maybe part of the lesson: I need to slow down sometimes and rest, I need to stay focused in the work I'm doing and not get distracted by inessential things, and I need to remember that God desires a relationship with me--not a checklist of dos and don'ts.

The summer's not over yet.

Spiritual Multitasking (or How to Be A Contemplative)

God has wired us to multitask. At least that's what I decided during our informal teaching time Sunday night at church. He has wired us to be able to two tasks at once (which I admittedly struggle with).

1. Our first task is to be aware of God's presence and voice. At all times. This presumes that we are following God. It presumes that God is ever present (not just omnipresent--in all places--but at all times as well) and that He speaks and His voice can be heard. It also presumes that we want to hear God's voice and know that He is with us. I believe that this is at the root of following Jesus, however.

2. Our second task is doing whatever job we have before us. This may be our paid vocation, doing household chores, visiting a sick friend, studying for a class or a number of other regular routines or work.

This is how we're meant to multitask. We're meant to be able to focus on God while doing whatever it is we do throughout our day. Jesus had many analogies for this like a branch being connected to its vine or sheep hearing their shepherd's voice. The Apostle Paul referred to it as "praying continuously." The ancient monk Brother Lawrence called it The Practice of the Presence of God. 

These thoughts came up on a discussion about living a contemplative life. It's one of the values of our church. Contemplative living isn't a very easy thing to take hold of, though. Our first thought is probably of ancient monastics living by themselves, speaking to no one and spending all day in prayer and fasting. That kind of life isn't obtainable (nor desirable) for most of us.

Contemplation is more than that, though. At it's basic meaning, to contemplate means to think about something thoroughly or to look at something thoughtfully. At it's foundation in the same root word as "temple," the Latin templum: ground set aside for worship. Contemplation is worship simply through awareness of God.

There is also an intentionallity about contemplation. It rarely just happens. This is often why I fail. I neglect being intentional about focusing on God. Yet in order to multitask in this way--to be contemplative throughout my day, no matter what I'm doing, I must be intentional. You can't be contemplative without fostering a intentional focusedness on God. It's something you must choose to do each day--each minute.

Fostering this intentionality doesn't require that you become a monastic recluse. God intends that we do it in our daily lives. That is where we need God most, and that is where He shows up.

One of my friends at church doesn't like the word contemplation--mainly because of all the high and lofty images that come with it. It seems that a contemplative life is unobtainable because of that. Instead, though, he offered up the phrase, "Immersed life." That works: being immersed in God's presence...in His love, in our place before Him. It's a good place to start each day (and continue on throughout every minute of it).

Lectio Divina, Spiritual Practices and Heresies

During most of the year, our church rotates between an "informal" and "formal" schedule. On formal Sundays we have a more "typical" worship experience with singing, communion and preaching. On informal Sundays we typically have more of a teaching lesson separate from the worship service (but still biblically based lest you worry about that), and our worship service we call "Jam & Bread" (as we just have singing and communion--along with the normal Psalm reading, confession, scripture reading and other liturgical elements).

 Our informal Sundays this fall are focused on a "Re-Root" theme. Our church is five years old and we're taking time to remember (and teach some of the newer members) about our new monastic roots. Each informal Sunday there will be a lecture, a dialogue and an experience to choose from. The lecture was on "The Rule of Benedict," the dialogue was about "What it Means to Be a New Monastic" and the experience was on"Lectio Divina." My friend Pete was supposed to lead the Lectio Divina, but as he is homebound now in a wheel chair--at least for a few days of getting used to things--I lead the experience for him.

 I'm knowledgable in Lectio Divina and have led some exercises on it before, but as with many spiritual practices, I'm more knowledgeable than I am experienced. But that's why they're called spiritual practices. They take time, coming back and doing them again and again, in order to provide space for encountering God.

Lectio Divina (meaning "Divine Reading") is an ancient form of praying the scriptures in a way that you encounter God and hear His voice (for more information, here is our church's information on Lectio Divina). It was a privilege to lead a group through tonight's Scripture reading and see the different ways God speaks to people through the same passage. And in that, hearing God speak to me as well.

In searching for a resource our denomination used to have for Lectio Divina, I came across someone's blog bashing our denomination for using Lection Divina (not that most of those within the denomination necessarily use it, but our Department of Christian Formation at one point had resources for it). The person was warning against the use of Lectio Divina because when you do the method, your repeat a specific text four or five times, typically. Apparently to him, the repition of Scripture violates Jesus' commandment: "But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. (Matthew 6:7--I quote the King James Version as the writer of the blog did). First, I don't think reading or saying Scripture aloud more than once is "a vain repetition." Second, I don't think the "heathens" would repeat any portion of scripture anyway. Third, we don't repeat scripture in Lectio Divina to be heard by God, but rather to create space for us to hear Him.

The author was also anti-Lectio Divina because it is a "Catholic" practice. Of course, the practice predates the reformation to a time when there was only one church--albeit a "catholic" one in the "universal" sense of the word. While St. Benedict is often credited as the founder of Lectio Divina, it is well-rooted in ancient Hebrew practices of repeating and meditating on the Torah.

Too often I come across people who shun some practice of the church today because it is "pagan," "Catholic," or "unbiblical." I have heard people say practices such as lighting candles, using prayer labyrinths, playing instruments other than an organ or piano have no place in the church because they aren't mentioned in the Bible. And they may not be. But plenty isn't mentioned in the Bible that is still acceptable to these same people: sitting in pews, listening to sermons, singing anything that's not a Psalm, wearing suits and ties and Sunday dresses aren't mentioned in the Bible. But many of us cling to those actions.

Sometimes we are fearful of things we don't understand. Too often we have biases against practices our faith doesn't normally do (especially if we're "Protestant" and the practice might be "Catholic"). We don't understand that things like Lectio Divina have been used by faithful followers for well over 1500 years (in many cases two - three thousand years or more when rooted in the Jewish traditions). Too often we get tied in our own modern traditions while ignoring spiritual practices that have been around for millennia.

But we do these spiritual practices not to be "religious" or "spiritual" but to slow down and take the time to be with God, acknowledging that we desire to create space to encounter God. The ancient Hebrews knew this; the early Christians knew this. Too often we think we know better than they did. We have much to learn (for more information on these ancient practices look for the Ancient Practices series that Phyllis Tickle spearheaded).