Wasting Time with God

In Henri Nouwen’s The Living Reminder: Service and Prayer in Memory of Jesus Christ, he writes:

Prayer is not a way of being busy with God instead of with people. In fact, it unmasks the illusion of busy-ness, usefulness, and indispensability. It is a way of being empty and useless in the presence of God and so of proclaiming our basic belief that all is grace and nothing is simply the result of hard work. Indeed wasting time for God is an act of ministry because it reminds us and our people that God is free to touch anyone regardless of our well-meant efforts. Prayer as an articulate way of being useless in the face of God brings a smile to all we do and creates humour in the midst of our occupations and preoccupations.

Thinking about my own prayer, I realize how easily I make it into a little seminar with God, during which I want to be useful by reading beautiful prayers, thinking profound thoughts and saying impressive words. I am obviously still worried about the grade! It indeed is a hard disciple to be useless in God’s presence and to let him speak in the silence of my heart. But whenever I become a little useless I know that God is calling me to a new life far beyond the boundaries of my usefulness.

We can say therefore that ministry is first and foremost the sharing of this “useless” prayer with others. It is from the still point of prayer that we can reach out to others and let the sustaining power of God’s presence be known. Indeed, it is there that become living reminders of Jesus Christ.       (page 51-53)

Published in 1977, he writes almost prophetically about what his experience will be in L’Arche Daybreak where he lived the rest of his life among mentally and physically disabled adults. This sense of “uselessness” is something that comes up as a false notion we might have about ourselves, and even prayer can seem so useless in that it appears so invisible. Nevertheless the mystery of prayer is that God initiates it, and is ever listening.

Counting the Cost in Marriage

COUNTING THE COST:

You count the cost in marriage.

And you keep on counting.

You count,

And you count on and on.

You count off all the expenses, all the losses, all the gains.

It never adds up.

The books never balance.

Somehow you come out ahead;

But it cost you everything.

You give 100%.

You give it all.

You give it up.

You get more than you gave,

And it cost all you have.

And you stop counting the cost

in marriage.

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I suspect there is a silent scream by those still counting – still feeling aggrieved as if you can never come out ahead. And of course you can’t… or at least you shouldn’t come out ahead of your love.

If you’re still trying to balance the books of relationship, you should know that your partner may very well feel the same delusion of giving more than you. Accounting love is for losers.

There is no successful 50-50 proposition in marriage; it’s 100%-100% all the way; full on; all the way in; burn the boats on the shore – you’re married.

And if you’re wise, you learn to stop making a balance sheet of forgotten gifts to you and remembered giving from you. Accounting love is for losers.

May you find yourself at peace with an unbalanced spreadsheet of love.

May you realize: You both are coming out ahead.

On the occasion of 41 years of marriage.

And He Rested on the Sabbath

This “Good Friday” I want to contemplate “Holy Saturday.” The Sabbath can be experienced  from Friday sundown to Saturday Sundown, for as Rabbi Abraham Heschel points out, the Sabbath is an architecture of time.

In the Bible Project’s post on the Sabbath, they point out a few things I had not contemplated before:

• Jesus began His earthly ministry on the Sabbath in Luke 4:14-19 by reading the prophecy of  Isaiah 61:1,2.
• And Jesus ended His earthly ministry as it were (after His crucifixion of Good Friday) when His body “rested” on the Sabbath – what Christians call “Holy Saturday” (to read more, see Alan E. Lewis’ masterful book on  Holy Saturday: Between Cross and Resurrection: A Theology of Holy Saturday).

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Therefore let us join Jesus in His Sabbath Rest as Hebrews 4:9-11 encourages.

Let us to enter into the Sabbath Rest of Christ – who declares He is the “Lord of the Sabbath.”

Let us find our rest in Him who teaches us “the unforced rhythms of life.”

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Matthew 11:29-30, The Message

A Prayer for a Fuller Understanding of Your Resurrection

Standing under an ancient fresco of the Crucifixion in a Cappadocian Church cave in Turkey.

The Apostle Paul’s declaration has always challenged and baffled me:

I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings becoming like Him in His death.

Philippians 3:10

The first part I understand: wanting to know Christ and the power of His resurrection.

But only lately after much contemplation am I beginning to comprehend the equal desire to enter the koinonia of sharing Christ’s suffering in order to become like Him in His death. The desire to become one with the One who made us for Himself has become a greater desire that is inspired from His compelling love of grace – not my impulse to earn the undeservable.

 

In this light I would like to share a prayer by Greek Orthodox Priest and Theologian Kostas Sarantidis:

Lord guide us to a fuller understanding of your resurrection. May the light of your resurrection illumine the path that leads only to you and not to ourselves or to any master that presume to claim for themselves our love for you. Lord, help us to love You better! Make us witnesses of Your humility and glory.

As we enter the Season of Lent, may we be gain a fuller understanding of Christ’s resurrection and all that this means for following Him – in other words – may we love Him better.

When you become Wise

A person can grow old without really growing wise. Derek Kidner charitably writes,

“While all go to God’s school, few learn wisdom there…”

While we live in the days of the perpetually infantilizated in a culture of hyper-individualism, Nowlan is able to elegantly and simply articulate the process of maturity.

He captures the wisdom of forgiveness – that the day we can [finally] forgive ourselves is the day we become wise. If you have learned to forgive yourself, you may contemplate the unique curriculum through which God has led you to be freed from the oppressive yoke of self judgement and self loathing – to be free to receive the forgiveness for which Christ lived and died and resurrected, and thus the forgiveness for which you were designed.

But for many, forgiveness is rather an unreachable treasure lost in a labyrinth. It need not be so unattainable, for though the cost of forgiveness is unbearably high, we will inevitably find it always comes as a gift.

Each one learns by way a unique curriculum of wisdom, but Kidner captures the common thread in the complete quote:

“While all go to God’s school, few learn wisdom there, for the knowledge which He aims to instil is the knowledge of Himself; this is the ultimate prize.”

May you attain the ultimate prize of knowing God, and may you learn to receive forgiveness, be able to forgive yourself and others… and help others do the same.

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Alden Nowlan (January 25, 1933 – June 27, 1983) was a Canadian poet and playwright born into rural poverty in Stanley, Nova Scotia, along a stretch of dirt road that he would later refer to as Desolation Creek.

His father, Freeman Nowlan, worked sporadically as a manual labourer. His mother, Grace Reese, was only 14 years of age (!) when Nowlan was born, and she soon left the family, leaving Alden and her younger daughter Harriet to the care of their paternal grandmother. The family discouraged education as a waste of time, and Nowlan left school after only four grades. At the age of 14, he went to work in the village sawmill. At the age of 16, he discovered the new library in Windsor. Often on weekends he would travel eighteen miles to the library to get books, which broadened his already keen reading. “I wrote (as I read) in secret,” Nowlan remembered.

Source: Wikipedia

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Recently came upon Mitch Teemley’s post from whence I obtained  this image of C.S. Lewis saying something similar and profound about self-forgiveness.

 

Something to be said about Gratitude

There’s much to be said about a friend who dies, especially someone about whom it feels like they died ahead of their time. Today was such a day for my friend Nancy.

One of her favourite hymns was Great is Thy Faithfulness.

For those who travelled the circuitous journey with Nancy this last year since she suffered a brain abscess – on top of her other cancers (!) one might be tempted to ask:

Is God faithful?  Or – did He let her down?

Did He forsake His daughter when she needed Him most?

I want to answer emphatically – God is Faithful! God did not forsake Nancy!

In this last year of Nancy’s life, when she could no longer care for herself or others; when she could no longer string together those impressive articulate thoughts; when she could no longer express her gratitude… 

God surrounded His daughter with His people = many of you as family and friends – who cared for her at the expense of your own health and sense of gratitude – and you took care of Nancy – as if you were taking care of Jesus Himself – for it was Jesus who said, 

“What you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it for me.”  (Matt 25:40)

You took care of Nancy in a time when so many of Nancy’s age or ailment simply die alone.

Not so with Nancy – she had a noticeable tribe of friends and caregivers, and if Nancy were here to speak for herself – I am convinced she’d say, “Thank you.”

You see, Nancy had a practiced habit – or – shall be be more honest and say – “Nancy had an obsession with gratitude.”

It started in 2011 after she read Ann Voskamp’s book, “1000 Gifts” – a book about gratitude. Nancy was the sort of person who didn’t just read for information – she read and applied – and – she got others together to read and practice the art and discipline of giving thanks.

There is a verse found in the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Thessalonian church that has always presented a challenge:

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”        (I Thess. 5:16-18)

For those who live the spiritual life, and who have honestly and admittedly suffered – we know we cannot give thanks “for” all things” – but in the mystery of being “in Christ” – we can give thanks “In all circumstances”.  Nancy lived this out:

Her first entry in her Gratitude Journal (Volume 1) was in September, 2011:

“Thankful for hard circumstances that force me to run to you.”

She didn’t date most of her entries – she numbered them – so her last entry of that journal was #4730 – roughly three blessings a day over the span of that journal. Her last note of thanks was this:

“Thankful for a difficult – yet – beautiful day.” (Dec 16, 2016)

You can appreciate that Nancy would not miss a day – not even on August 4, 2015 (one of the few entries she dated) – the very day her husband died, she wrote:

“Thankful for My beloved Harold [who] died today; can I praise You in the storm?”

A few years later (2017) Nancy would write:

“The night that Harold went to heaven I settled into bed realizing that I had a choice I knew I had to make. Either I continue my practice of kneeling beside my bed and looking back over my day and seeing and recording the God-gifts within that day – OR – I give in to the misery of the hardest blow I’ve ever received and leave that practice behind.

My addled brain was saying “How can you give thanks on this day when you kissed the cool lips of your beloved husband for the very last time? The day when you knew you would never again see the face you could hardly drag your eyes from, so dear, so familiar, so improved by time and age?”

A battle ensued and the tiny voice of the Spirit that I’ve come to recognize whispered:

“This will be the vehicle for My presence as you go through what lies ahead. Bring Me your weakness, your brokenness. I will catch every tear, I will listen to every anguished question, I will heal your fractured heart and give you peace. The only part you have to do is to remember that thanksgiving always comes before the miracle.”

The very definition of peace

Today, what Nancy wrote years ago sounds so prophetic. She knew the secret of a life of gratitude.  She knew to give thanks – because – the God Nancy worshipped then, and whom she worships now in joyful abandon – is the source and the destination of all gratitude despite the circumstances.

I imagine if she were able, she’d tell you that;  she’d tell you about the joy of knowing God in Christ – and how He has woven all the strands of her beautiful and hard life into an amazing tapestry that reveals the beauty of the One who made her for Himself.

I have no illusion that many of you are grieving and suffering now, and that for me to hint that you can be thankful – might sound outrageously pious and insensitive.

But the wise who have gone before us recognize the gift that is gratitude.  Annie Dillard wrote,

“I think that the dying pray at the end – not, ‘please,’ – but ‘thank you’ – as a guest thanks his host at that door.”

She knew some secret about a life of gratitude at the moment of mourning; that our exits shall be exposed for their wonder, and shall elicit praise.

In June 2021, a popular TV Talent show (America’s Got Talent) featured a singer who went by the name of “Nightbirde.” She was there to sing a song she wrote called “It’s Okay”— which she described as “the story about the last year of my life.”

She knew she was dying with terminal cancer. But before she sang, she said this to the judges and audience:

“It’s important that everyone knows I’m so much more than the bad things that happen to me… You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy.”

Or – as Nancy might have put it:

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be thankful.”

In one of her blog posts titled, “God is on the bathroom floor; if you can’t see Him, look lower”, Nightbirde wrote:

“I see mercy in the dusty sunlight that outlines the trees, in my mother’s crooked hands, in the blanket my friend left for me, in the harmony of the wind chimes. It’s not the mercy that I asked for, but it is mercy nonetheless. And I learn a new prayer: thank you. It’s a prayer I don’t mean yet, but will repeat until I do.

Call me cursed, call me lost, call me scorned. But that’s not all. Call me chosen, blessed, sought-after. Call me the one who God whispers His secrets to. I am the one whose belly is filled with loaves of mercy that were hidden for me…

God is on the bathroom floor; if you cannot see Him… look lower.”

God is on the Bathroom Floor

You see, when we understand how radically present God is in our world, we need only look around to find God having been there all along, we find the God who is present for as Jesus promises,

“Ask and it will be given to you; Seek and you will find; Knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; everyone who who seeks finds; and to anyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”   (Matthew 7:7,8)

Now, as Nancy realized years ago:

Either you can learn the practice of looking back over your day to see and record the God-gifts within that day – OR – you can give-in to the misery of the hardest blows you’ll ever receive and descend into despair.

Since we are all on a spiritual journey, perhaps this is the moment you seek the God whom Nancy worships – and enter into His joyful gratitude for you – for we believe God is continually looking for you to return.

This is part of the curriculum of the spiritual life.

Mother, We Never Asked…

A tribute poem to her mother written by Madelyn Chen, titled “Never Asking”:

Winter nights we wore socks to bed and still shuddered like thin panes against the wind.

We rubbed our hands together. We pulled the blanket past our noses. Over our pajamas were hand-knit sweaters, cheaper than turning on the radiator. Our mother made us drink water from plastic bottles bought in packs of twenty-four. She collected the empty ones from our hands, underneath our beds, corner piles and all through the trashcan. Ripping and scraping away the sticky labels, she filled each bottle with sink water. Each cap was firmly twisted back on, and into the microwave went three bottles at a time. Six minutes later, her tender hands would pull the bottles out, plastic steaming redness into her palms.

In bed, she tucked the bottle under our feet.

This is how we fell asleep, never asking if our mother needed warmth.

Poem found in the Spring 2023 edition of Rattle magazine #79.

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I suspect there will be all sorts of poems for Mother’s Day that range from one’s best efforts to Hallmark’s ready made verse, but Chen does not sink into mere sentimentality as she ends with her own self reflection (I paraphrase):

We never asked if our mother needed the warmth she so arduously made sure we had.

Any child with any mother who has worked half as hard would still know the cost of motherhood, even if it is only realized late in life.

Now that we are older we can answer the question we never asked when we were younger:

Yes, she needed warmth; yes she needed tenderness and care; yes she need something none of her children – as children – could supply; and when we grew up, we hadn’t counted the cost until we had our own children to warm; and so on and so on and so on we pay it forward…

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We live in interesting times: some well-meaning schools are attempting to make space for children who do not have mothers or fathers by subsuming these notary days into a kind of “parents” day.  The fact is, every child who attends a school like this came by way of their mother as did every teacher irrespective of their parental status now. As John O’ Donohue noted, “There is no other way into the universe except through the body of a woman.” Even Jesus – God made flesh – came by way of his mother.

Though I would not want to make more of Mother’s Day than it is – it seems representative of something we are losing, and therefore I would not want to make it less than it is.

In honour of mothers: (https://rhfoerger.wordpress.com/…/a-way-into-the-universe/).