Nomadic or static
My good friend Kyle and I had coffee the other day. In our conversation which ranges from books to movies to theology to being fathers, he disclosed to me an interpretation of the Biblical narrative which he experienced (which he reminded me is in part the foundation of the book “Jesus Wants to Save Christians”).
In it he said there is this constant tension of our desire to be stationary and God’s calling us to be nomadic. We build cities in Babel, God disperses us. We build tents on at the transfiguration, God tells us that would be inappropriate. We want to bury our dead, Jesus calls us to follow. Cain (a worker of the land) kills Abel (a nomadic herder) because God liked Abel’s offering more. We want to build a temple, God asks why; I have been with you in the wilderness. Adam and Eve give up foraging for food in Eden for a life bound to working the land for food.
This can go on and on and on and on…
Which all begs the question, is the church setting down roots, build our own empires and walls or are we moving out, being nomadic and living on the move?
Either way, I can guarantee I will be at my church building on Sunday.
In it he said there is this constant tension of our desire to be stationary and God’s calling us to be nomadic. We build cities in Babel, God disperses us. We build tents on at the transfiguration, God tells us that would be inappropriate. We want to bury our dead, Jesus calls us to follow. Cain (a worker of the land) kills Abel (a nomadic herder) because God liked Abel’s offering more. We want to build a temple, God asks why; I have been with you in the wilderness. Adam and Eve give up foraging for food in Eden for a life bound to working the land for food.
This can go on and on and on and on…
Which all begs the question, is the church setting down roots, build our own empires and walls or are we moving out, being nomadic and living on the move?
Either way, I can guarantee I will be at my church building on Sunday.
Feeling VERY churchy for two days
I went with a few people (Darrel Carver, Raul, Nancy and Jim Allen) from the church to "Unity Park" yesterday as part of a pilot program of the TACC (Tarrant Area Community of Churches). The program is designed to break down stereotypes of what a "homeless person" is. So we were invited to talk with and listen to the homeless at Unity Park and then we all walked the three or so blocks of East Lancaster to see what agencies are there to help and what is needed.
Today the youth went to church on the Slab, which is a church for the homeless by the homeless on a literal "slab" of concrete under I35. Not as much conversation happens at the Slab as I would like, but there is a great amount of food and clothing distributed, so it 'feels' like you make a tangible difference right away. It is a good thing, although it is only a band-aid to the deep wounds of the community at the slab.
Walking over 8,000 steps yesterday (I know this thanks to a fancy new pedometer the central Texas conference health insurance has "give" to me to use this year) and then working one on one at the slab makes me feel not only closer to Jesus and God but closer to my own call. I know that as of now I cannot move to East Lancaster and walk the streets doing church with the homeless of Fort Worth (I cannot do this for a number of reasons most of which are self imposed thus proving that I am the rich man walking away from Jesus because I am very wealthy). However, I can find opportunities which I can camouflage as "paid work" but really is relationship building with the pushed out, the homeless and the hopeless.
Today is a good day... I want more of it.
Today the youth went to church on the Slab, which is a church for the homeless by the homeless on a literal "slab" of concrete under I35. Not as much conversation happens at the Slab as I would like, but there is a great amount of food and clothing distributed, so it 'feels' like you make a tangible difference right away. It is a good thing, although it is only a band-aid to the deep wounds of the community at the slab.
Walking over 8,000 steps yesterday (I know this thanks to a fancy new pedometer the central Texas conference health insurance has "give" to me to use this year) and then working one on one at the slab makes me feel not only closer to Jesus and God but closer to my own call. I know that as of now I cannot move to East Lancaster and walk the streets doing church with the homeless of Fort Worth (I cannot do this for a number of reasons most of which are self imposed thus proving that I am the rich man walking away from Jesus because I am very wealthy). However, I can find opportunities which I can camouflage as "paid work" but really is relationship building with the pushed out, the homeless and the hopeless.
Today is a good day... I want more of it.
Breathing
I have heard it said that the tetragrammaton (I am unsure of the spelling of the fancy word) YHWH, is designed to be unpronounceable. In fact I have heard it said the letter configuration is designed to replicate the sound of one breathing. Inhale (Y), exhale (H), inhale (W), exhale (H). I have heard it asked, “When we are born the first thing we do is take a breath or say the name of God?” I have heard is asked, “Do we die when we cannot take a breath or cannot say the name of God any longer?” As I lay next to my son, watching, listening, and feeling him breath I wonder if I am feeling his breath or am I feeling God?
All of this week I have tried to be as mindful as possible about my breathing. When does it change? Why does it change? Is it heavy with anxiety, or light with peace? When has my breath been taken away and when has it escaped me? In my mini-experiment I have come to the conclusion that I rarely pay attention to my breathing. I take it for granted. So my question is now, “Am I taking breathing for granted or am I taking God for granted?” And the question makes me stop breathing for a moment.
All of this week I have tried to be as mindful as possible about my breathing. When does it change? Why does it change? Is it heavy with anxiety, or light with peace? When has my breath been taken away and when has it escaped me? In my mini-experiment I have come to the conclusion that I rarely pay attention to my breathing. I take it for granted. So my question is now, “Am I taking breathing for granted or am I taking God for granted?” And the question makes me stop breathing for a moment.
Be the change by Jason Valendy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.