How to live for God

One of the most meaningful gifts I received last month was an accidental one. Sometime last year a person who has been an important spiritual mentor for me had recommended I read a story by Leo Tolstoy called, “Where Love is, God is”. I went to the library and looked through the anthologies of short stories but could not find it anywhere. I finally just looked the story up on-line and got the gist of it, which is nothing like actually reading a story by Tolstoy! But then this Advent, as I was looking through a collection of Christmas Stories, there it was! I read it with delight and joy; both for the beauty of the story and that I should find what I had been looking for, months after I had stopped looking for it.

This weekend we begin a new series called, “I Want to Grow”. I anticipate that it will be informative, challenging and practical. Some of the suggestions that are sure to be a part of this series are likely to seem obvious and “too easy”. I pass a part of the story “Where Love is, God is” on to you as a little gift. What seems so obvious may in fact be exactly what we need:

“Martin was silent awhile, and then asked: ‘But how is one to live for God?’
The old man answered: ‘How one may live for God has been shown us by Christ. Can you read? Then buy the Gospels, and read them: there you will see how God would have you live. You have it all there.’
These words sank deep into Martin’s heart, and that same day he went and bought himself a Testament in large print, and began to read.
At first he meant only to read on holidays, but having once begun he found it made his heart so light that he read every day. Sometimes he was so absorbed in his reading that the oil in his lamp burnt out before he could tear himself away from the book. He continued to read every night, and the more he read the more clearly he understood what God required of him, and how he might live for God. And his heart grew lighter and lighter. Before, when he went to bed he used to lie with a heavy heart, moaning as he thought of his little Kapiton; but now he only repeated again and again: ‘Glory to Thee, glory to Thee, O Lord! Thy will be done!’
From that time Martin’s whole life changed.”

Wishing you a New Year filled with good spiritual advice, sacred reading, and growth in your relationship with Christ! (If you want to find this beautiful story, which is about seeing Christ in the people around you, it is included in “Christmas Stories”, Everyman’s Pocket Classics edition).

He's Coming!

I grew up celebrating the Advent season. The church would hold a potluck on the first Sunday of Advent and families, singles, older couples and friends would sit at long tables to enjoy a meal together and start the season off with a dose of community. But the real highlight was when we cleared the tables and spread newspaper down for the annual building of a family advent wreath. We wove pine branches around our family’s metal frame, adding berries and ribbon, and when it met our satisfaction we went up to receive our candles: 3 purple and 1 pink for the four Sundays of Advent and a white candle to stand in the middle, lit on Christmas Eve. Then the lights went down and each group lit their first candle as we sang Christmas hymns and prayed for Christ to be born anew in our lives.

It’s been many years since I have built my own advent wreath, but I still get a surge of excitement on the first Sunday of Advent. The longing and anticipation for the arrival of the Christ-child comes around and marks the end of “Ordinary Time” in the church calendar. From Advent until Pentecost, we are in “Sacred Time” – celebrating the great holy days of the Christian church (Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost). One of the things I like about observing the church calendar is that it reminds me that time is not as linear as I sometimes think, shooting off like an arrow into the future. It is also a circle which comes around every year and gives me a chance to celebrate the things in life that are worth returning to over and over again: birthdays, anniversaries, the seasons, the stories of God at work.

One of the benefits of observing Advent is that it helps us pause to refocus on the meaning of Christmas. Otherwise, it is so easy to count time by marking how many shopping days are left, how many parties there are still to attend, how long we can wait to mail those packages. Advent is a way to remember the journey to that stable in Bethlehem and of our own need to continue going back there with the prophets, the angels, the shepherds, the wise men, and of course the holy family. It prepares our selves to once again see the miracle of God coming to earth for our ultimate salvation and to recognize the longing that we have for him to come again someday and finish the journey that was begun so long ago.
This Advent, I hope you find a way to mark the time and anticipate the great gift of Jesus’ birth. There are many ways to do this, including Advent calendars, the lighting of candles, daily devotionals, or even just a whispered reminder “He’s coming!"

Pocket Full of Pebbles

I’ve been thinking a lot about the parable of the mustard seed. In my small group on Tuesday morning we’ve been looking at the parables, trying to approach them in a fresh and childlike way, full of wondering and simplicity. It’s harder than you might imagine setting aside pre-conceived ideas about these very short stories that Jesus told. I’ve heard them so many times over the years that they barely penetrate my curiosity anymore. But in taking another look at them I’ve discovered they are much like a pebble you pick up on the beach. They slip easily into your pocket and as you finger them over the course of a day, a week, the nuances start to appear.

In the case of the mustard seed story, I have revisited one of the most troubling aspects of this parable. Jesus says that the Kingdom of God is like the mustard seed, tiniest of all seeds, which grows into a tree in which the birds of the air take shelter. What is he talking about? We have mustard growing alongside the roadways here and it does NOT turn into a tree, ever. Hardly any bird is small enough to perch on its flimsy branches, let alone build its nest there. I began to wonder about whether they have some type of Mustard Tree in Israel that I just never heard of. Thanks to modern technology, answers to these kinds of questions are only a few clicks away. But no, they have the same mustard that we have. It sprouts up in the spring, grows into a small bush and then dies off in the winter. Not really anything like the Kingdom of God. So I have rolled this stone of a story over and over, wondering what in fact Jesus was saying about the Kingdom of God. I think the answer I like the best is that the Kingdom is not what we expect it to be. We plant a small seed and expect a small result. We would be satisfied with a few bright flowers that last a season, but in fact the Kingdom is bigger than our imagining. It flourishes in mysterious ways and produces enduring results that take us by surprise.

I would like to encourage you to take a fresh approach as you read the scriptures. Maybe you would like to join me by reading one parable a week and letting the strange bits make you curious. Don’t look for ways to explain away the troublesome spots, but let them cause you to start wondering. And if you have any idea why the woman in the parable of the yeast used 60 pounds of flour, I’d love to hear what you think!

Using My Librarian Voice

This is banned books week, which is observed by libraries, bookstores, authors and journalists to remind Americans not to take the democratic freedom of free speech for granted. The right to read, write and exchange ideas even when they’re unpopular or go against your beliefs is one of the hallmarks of intellectual freedom. Of the 100 top novels of the 20th century, almost half of them have been challenged or banned at one time or another.

The reason for bringing this up is that even in our own Oak Hills Library we have had the occasional challenge to a book and it seems to me that we need to be reminded from time to time how to approach a book that we might disagree with. First of all, just because it’s in our library doesn’t mean you have to read it. There are many books that are on the shelves that I would not endorse or recommend, but others have enjoyed them and believe them to have value (Even on the shelves of staff recommendations, I am sure that not all the staff equally approves of all the books. Rather, they are a compilation of individual staff person's lists of books they consider worth reading). If you read a book that you find offensive in some way, ask yourself why it upsets you, what the author wanted you to believe or feel about something, why it was written in the first place. If it is something that was recommended, why did they think you should read this book? Is there a challenge or a door that opens on the way you see the world? Is there some unsettling that may be good for you?

One of the books that has stirred up passion on both sides is The Shack. It is a novel that has been continuously checked out since we got a copy in the library. Most people who read it really enjoy it, some don’t get it, and a few are upset about it. If you want to do a Google search, you will easily find diatribes against it with warnings of dangerous theology and you will come up with passionate defenses of how it has touched and healed someone. It is a perfect example of why we need to keep things in context. If you decide to give it a read, keep in mind why it was written, who it was written for, and the fact that it is a novel. It is not likely to win any prizes for theology or literature in my opinion, but it is a wonderful book to spur conversation, reflection, and make you consider your own ways of “seeing” God. As with all banned books, the people most opposed to it have rarely ever read it.

Having said all that, we must still guard our hearts and minds and consider with care what we allow in. Our faith should be able to stand up to opposing viewpoints and ideas, but we don’t need to embrace them or entertain them all. As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Everything is permissible” – but not everything is beneficial. “Everything is permissible” – but not everything is constructive. (1 Corinthians 10:23)

I often blog here about a new idea or way of seeing that I've picked up from a book. If you’ve read a book that challenged your thinking for the better, expanded your world view, or given you some new insight on faith or God, I would love to hear about it!

It's a Small World (When You're a Medium Sized Church)

This is an update to my previous blog. Since it was picked up as an eCorn article and appeared in the bulletin as a Reality Check, and because people are kind and have been asking me how the transition is working out, I thought I would give you a few of my thoughts on making the move to Sunday:

First, I have not quite got the rhythm of Sundays yet. I mentioned showing up “fresh and ready to worship” in the last blog, but in reality I have not mastered getting out the door at 8:30 dressed and with dry hair too well. I’m doing it, but I’m not perky. My friend Carol suggested between the services on Sunday that I need to develop some new habits. This is true. While having an al fresco dinner at 9pm and engaging in a late night conversation is very appealing to me on Saturday night, Sunday morning it appears to have been a bad idea. I am still used to thinking of Sunday mornings as a time to sleep in and do the crossword puzzle with a cup of coffee. Maybe I just need to give the 11 o’clock service a try. However, I really do enjoy “waking up” with the fuller congregation singing praises and hearing the Word. It beats the news any morning.

Second, I have really enjoyed getting to mingle after the service, meeting some new people and seeing some friends (like Carol) who never came to Saturday nights. We happened to sit near Tim and Emily the last few weeks. They are new to Folsom and it’s nice to be able to Pass the Peace or exchange greetings with people who are becoming familiar faces to us. I met Annie while we were both foraging for breakfast. We discovered that neither of us likes to eat when we first wake up and we were giving thanks for the very convenient fruit and muffins that the kitchen team brought out. This week I met Kevin (who happens to have married Melissa who I’ve known for years). I found out they are buying a house just a few blocks from where my son and daughter-in-law live and that he’s a fellow Aggie – lots of ways we’re connected to each other.

Third, I have to admit that having Saturday nights free finally allowed us to head to Midtown for the 2nd Saturday Art Walk this past weekend. This is something we enjoy, but it has been nearly impossible when we had commitments to the Saturday service. One of our stops was to visit the studio of two Oak Hillians, Allison Carlos and Randy Blasquez. It was great to see their space, look at their art and it felt very cool to know “real” artists. As we left their gallery and headed down the street a woman driving past yelled out “Hi Valerie!” We stopped and waved back as Jennifer Whitney and her boys went past looking for a parking spot. At another gallery, which was packed with people, I wondered if I stopped looking at the art and looked at the people if I would see someone I knew. Sure enough, Richard Young walked by. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen Richard and his brother Matthew (who also came up to say Hi), but they grew up at Oak Hills and we reminisced about them climbing the trees out on our property while their dad Robert helped us build our house (20 years ago). So, why am I mentioning this? Well, it’s a small world. You don’t have to go to Saturday night to find Oak Hillians. They are out there, living their lives, and it’s a great joy to run across them!

I was hoping that this transition would mean more community and more connection with people, and so far that is happening for me (both in and out of the services). But I do have to be intentional to stay and hang out, to make the effort to meet at least one person who is new to me and to give myself time to enjoy an old friend over my Sunday morning breakfast. I'd be interested to know how you're engaging with the time between services or how you feel about our last all-church service. Let me know and definitely come up and say "Hi" next week.

Making the Move to Sunday

As a regular Saturday night attender myself for years and years, this seems like the perfect place to talk about the decision that has been made to discontinue this service on August 23rd. If you’ve been around Oak Hills for a long time, you will remember that when we moved onto our property in 1993 and changed our service times from Sunday afternoon (right during nap-time!) to Sunday morning we experienced a swell in attendance that caused us to worry about overflowing the portable space where we met (currently the Youth Auditorium). So, the Saturday Night Service was born. Committed Oak Hillians were asked to consider moving to that service to make room for the new people who would find Sunday morning more convenient.

My family made the transition to Saturday night (hey, it was still better than Sunday afternoons!) and we became firmly fixed there as different family members began volunteering in Guest Services and in the children’s Prime Time programs on Saturday night. As our children got older, we established some traditions around Saturday night, too. We began having a family movie night after the service with an easy late-night dinner that became a favorite time of ours.

But while we have enjoyed sleeping in on Sunday mornings and the relaxed feel of the Saturday night service, there has also been a sense of disconnection from the rest of the Oak Hills family. We don’t seem to have those spontaneous get-togethers with friends like we used to when we were all together on Sundays and ran into a family that had the afternoon free to go grab pizza or pull together an impromptu BBQ. We have frequently met people at retreats who have attended Oak Hills for years but who we have never even seen before. There has been a loss as well as a joy in attending church on Saturdays.

The decision to let go of our Saturday night service has not been taken lightly. In fact, the Elder Board and staff have discussed it often over the years. Since the year 2000, when we moved into our permanent building, we have not really needed the space but didn’t want to take away an opportunity from anyone whose work schedule might keep them from attending on a Sunday morning. But as attendance has dwindled over time, the cost in terms of volunteer hours and lost community feel have outweighed our desire to keep the service going. We believe that it will be a very good thing to have the church gathered together on Sundays. I know that when I let my family know that we were going to have to transition back to going to church on Sundays there was something like a sigh of relief and an expectation that we will meet up with people who we haven’t seen in a while.

For this feeling of community to take root, though, we will have to plan to linger a bit after the first service if we decide to go to that one, or come early to the second service if that is where we land. The only way to see the whole church together is to mingle between the services. So the challenge for us Saturday nighters is to relearn to wake up on Sunday mornings and to come fresh and ready to worship and delight in the people who make up Oak Hills Church…and see who sits in our seats at these other services…and be prepared to meet some new people and greet some old friends. I think it is an exciting opportunity to develop closer connections with each other – I’ll see you there!

Divine Communion

I’ve been reading some wonderful books this summer and one of the common themes that has tugged at my heart and mind is the idea of community with God that is available to us as believers. Robert Barron writes in The Strangest Way,

“Not only is God active and aggressive enough to track us down in love; God is also “flexible” enough to include us in his own being. The Father sent his Son in order to gather us into the Spirit, which is the love that binds them together – and it is in this central place that we are privileged to exist. Whenever Christians pray, they invoke the names of the Trinitarian persons, because they are praying, not so much outside of God as a petitioner, as, strangely enough, inside of God as a sharer in the divine communion.”

That is an amazing concept! Read it again: we are praying from within the holy communion of the Trinity, not as an outsider knocking at the door or someone “down here” sending prayers “up there” but we are at home in this community of the Father, Son and Spirit and our prayers are the conversation we engage in with them. Where do you “stand” in relation to God when you pray? Are you sending prayers long-distance or are you like Abraham, eating under the trees at Mamre and walking along the road to Sodom with your prayers a conversation with a present Person (Gen. 18)? In fact, we seem to have an even closer position than that of Abraham speaking with the Lord, because we don’t meet God as visitors among us, but we are inside the community of God, abiding in him as he abides in us. What a beautiful mystery!

Nowhere is this concept of community with God more apt than at the Communion Table. When we eat of the bread and drink of the cup, “Christ enters us and we him”, as Robert Webber wrote in Ancient-Future Worship. While he is ever present in this world and with us always, there is some “mystery of faith (that) embraces the reality of the incarnation and an incarnational presence in the bread and wine.” Do you think of this mystery, this union with Christ, when you take Communion? I hope you will begin to. If you combine the ideas of Webber and Barron, you may be present with Christ in a new way as you accept the Body and the Blood and can celebrate the Presence in a fuller, more meaningful way.

Barron urges us to find our center in Christ, to forsake ourselves and surrender to the power and presence and beauty and truth that are in him. He uses a delightful teaching of John of the Cross to make his point,

“John says that the inner Christ, is like a hidden wine cellar. This metaphor focuses, not on strength and safety, but on intoxication. The divine source, opened up by Christ, is an inexhaustible font of delight and elevation of consciousness. When we drink fine wine, we are lifted up out of our everyday preoccupations and become playful, imaginative, a bit daring. In the same way, when we drink of the spirit of Christ, the divine liquor, our minds are lifted up out of their obsessive concern with “the body” and opened to a higher, more joyful, dimension of experience. This inner wine cellar is buried within the souls of believers, but, says John of the Cross, most of us have lost the key.”

How wonderful that sounds! I hope that you will search for the key to this place of hidden delight. Start with prayer and the Lord’s Supper and tell me how your search goes.