Psalm Slam #67

God’s Mode Made Known (Psalm Slam #67)

Published Living Word Bulletin Series, August 18, 2020 

(To be read in the Slam Poetry style)

Lord God, encase grace,

in this place. Fears erased.

Your guise. Wise.

Beaming, teeming,

still redeeming.

Your mode made known.

Let no-thing go un-no-ticed.

Thank you. No. Thank You.

Nations Awed. Stand. Applaud.

Bursting out. Voices shout.

Your Story. All Glory.

For justice. Not just for us.

For all bodies. Love embodies.

Your mercy reigns. Rain down.

Earth’s fields yield. Your bounty revealed.

Always abundant, never redundant.

In herding us, You have heard us.   

From east to west. Honor expressed.

 

Yahweh! Your Way.

This day. We pray.

Forever endeavor.

Forever and ever.

Always. All ways.

Yay! We'll say.

The Way is to Stay

I’ve been hearing Isaiah 43:19 quoted a lot during the past month or so of this pandemic. So I decided to invest some time re-reading it; 

“Behold, I will do something new, now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, rivers in the desert.” (NASB)

I’m reminded that the new thing that God is doing often isn't always seen. 

In fact, we're often looking in the wrong places, or have expectations that it will be like it was before. 
If we’re perceptive enough, we’ll unearth that the ‘new thing’ takes the form of a ‘new way’ or a new path through difficult terrain. Perhaps invoking the imagery of the path through the Red Sea. Only now it is reversed; not a dry path through water but a water way (river) through the desert. And water is metaphor for “life.”

What blots our ability to perceive the new thing? 

As Isaiah would say later that God’s ways are not our ways, perhaps it’s because we can’t see as far up the trail as we’re led to believe. I’ve received countless affirmation in my life that the Spirit of God is simultaneously with us and ahead of us. We just can’t see what new path is being created. Is the Spirit out bushwhacking through the wilderness of a pandemic and our only appropriate response is to stay put while the path is being cleared? Jeremiah concurs that we might have to stand at the crossroads and look. 
Basically, stay put. Discern. Pray. 
But by God do not move. Not yet.

Perhaps this is a time for staying put and allowing the Spirit to work ahead and clear the path. If we say let the Spirit lead, then it means just that. Sit still. Wait. Stay. What if that I the way for such a time as this. Until the river of life emerges through the desert spaces of this pandemic, I’m in no rush.

Emerging Immersion

Immersion: To plunge into. To surround or cover. To engross. To absorb.

This word has been reverberating in my heart lately as well as teaching me new and amazing lessons. Ten years ago, I spent my time on the western slope of the Cascade Mountains near Seattle, WA in a “wilderness immersion program.” While part of that community, I came alive. It wasn't a religious organization but I soon found my faith reignited and awakened a greater sense of calling in my life. It was more real than anything I’ve experienced in my 30 years of being in the church. Quite simply, this way of living and being had become absorbed into my heart, my body and my spirit. The week prior to my graduation, Jon Young the school's founder, shared with us his vision: that there would be an immersion program in every community. 

This vision got me thinking about Jesus, his disciples and the great commission.


In the Gospels, we’ve long understood that Jesus called his disciples to form community, what we haven’t always understood was just what that process looked like. In reading the Gospels, I see very clearly what Jesus was doing was giving his disciples an immersion experience. They didn’t just talk about the Torah without living it and they didn’t just live it without talking about it. What was happening was they were experiencing and practicing Torah in a way that hadn’t been before. An “invisible” school was taking place, quite deliberately, and in the process they began living out the Torah in a way that made it and them come alive! As a result, the disciples and followers were absorbed into Jesus’ way of being.

The immersion model is essentially one of self-discovery, whereby the instructor or mentor guides the student by asking edge-stretching questions that nurtures self-sufficiency, curiosity and fascination. This is the true wisdom found in immersion programs, the school remains “hidden” within the community’s life together.

This is integral to how we live out Jesus’ command to go and make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:18). We immerse them in an invisible school of love, mercy, grace, peace and justice. We haven’t been very good at making disciples. We haven’t been very good at immersing ourselves and others into this way of being alive. We believe that the immersion of our baptism is enough. So it begs the question… What might an immersion program look like in the church today? 

I would have answered that question differently a decade ago but that hope still lives in me. I've come to believe that all history and institutions wax and wane in various capacities. The modern focus of the North American Church seems to be that of a thrivent institution. That focus appears to be crumbling before us and perhaps charting a course for us to reimagine what an exodus might look like. If that is the case, then I believe it may very well look like the journey Jesus took his disciples on... an immersion experience.

A Season of Tending

During this season of Lent, social distancing, isolation; a sadness swells to the surface as I consider what hunkering down might look like if Hanna were with us. She'd be 16 months old and undoubtedly adding a extra dose of joy that we experience with our other children.

If we consider the rhythms of nature, we notice that there is a season where tending to things takes a priority. The tending and caretaking quality is one that is usually relegated to the southwest or mid summer but it is found in other seasons as well. We tend to our gardens in summer, we tend to our harvests in autumn, we tend to our spiritual selves in winter etc.. It's a cyclical pattern that reemerges throughout the year.

We had a weeping cherry tree planted last fall in memory of Hanna (see pic above) and now that spring is on here in Michigan, I find myself tending to that tree. I am daily cultivating an attitude of tending to that tree. I find myself detangling the hanging branches much like I would if I were brushing her hair. I am tidying up the mulch as I might wipe her food-y face with a wash rag. I'm making sure the support rope is helping to keep the tree upright as we would in instilling our faith and values to her. I am watering the tree as we would create a nurturing environment for her to grow and put her roots down. I am watching the buds growing daily as I might notice how Hanna would be growing and learning something new everyday. This tree has become a tangible reminder for me to care for my family, myself and our earth. I am anticipating a glorious blooming of our Hanna tree as reminder that all things, when tended well, become what they were created to be.

How would I not choose to see this time that we are living in with the covid19 pandemic as just another season for doing some intentional tending? Tending to the space we live in, tending to the earth we live on, tending to the needs of our family, tending to the needs of those most vulnerable, tending to our emotional and spiritual needs. May we rediscover the role of caretaking in our lives.

Chrysalis Time

Last fall, I spoke to youth about what living a resurrection life would look like. I used the chrysalis stage of the caterpillar/butterfly’s life as the metaphor to frame the conversation around the kind of spiritual initiation that we must undergo in order to see ourselves, the church and societal systems transformed. As a disciple of Christ, the language that I use is resurrection. When we embody a ‘resurrection life’ we cultivate things like repentance, release, regeneration, and reconciliation. All of which produces an anxiety as they break with the norms of our culture. That’s what it feels when you’re faced with the prospect of entering a cocoon… or having to stay at home… or practice social distancing.

The covid19 crisis appears to be initiating a great ‘slowing’ in our lives. For many of us, this is unprecedented. It is as though humanity is being asked to enter a cocoon phase where the mysterious and magical process of chrysalis is beginning to take shape.

And they are affecting us relationally, environmentally and spiritually. 

To resist this process, or to simply reform it, will only continue to put us on a path towards destruction. Resurrection and chrysalis mean that the old way of being will die so that something new will emerge. The delivery systems that got us to this point most likely will no longer work if we are to emerge from this time. In America that’s things like colonial mindset, systems of oppression, capitalism and nationalism. The shadow form of resurrection is regression.

So as we are feeling confined for a time to a space. 
May we tend to the space in a way that allows for more grace.
It is a threshold space and time where something new very well will emerge…
In the waiting, may we be patient and hopeful.

Reimagining

I've been writing a lot over the past 5-10 years and I've been mostly keeping it to myself. Why? Perhaps for that book that keeps getting put off. In this age of open source sharing, it's becoming more important that we share the seeds and fruits we've been given. So I will make more of a conscious effort to put out thoughts, meditations, poetry, and songs that have been stirring in my soul these past few years. It will hopefully serve as a tangible reminder of my life for my children and future generations.

As my life work and emphasis has shifted over those 15 years, I'm reimagining what this space will be. My life's work now seems to be that of a ministry of way-making. It manifests itself in nature connection, Christian discipleship, soul initiation practices and creative writing. As I pay attention to that shift, I realize that it's time to hone in on content and refresh the space. The name of the blog has evolved over time to reflect the phases of my life and this recent incarnation is no different.

I renamed the blog Our Numinous Nature.
It's ambiguity is what I most like about it. We often have numinous/mystical/spiritual experiences in nature but it's also in our nature to seek out numinous experiences. So it applies to both our human nature and the natural world. I believe that is the work of God's Spirit.

It also has a thread that runs through my calling and vocation with outdoor ministry, deep nature connection, Eco-Wheel work, soul initiation and grief work. As one who is rooted in an Anabaptist understanding of faith, my writing will be deeply influenced by that perspective. It is out of my numinous experiences with God's creation and God's community that I want to speak to a world that is rediscovering its longing for what I've come to call the echoes of Eden.