Retreat Thoughts, Day 4

Imagine what Moses must have felt, staring into Canaan in the last moments of his life, knowing it would always be a step beyond his journey, a meal that he would never taste and yet spent his entire life preparing.  His life's work was to lead the people to Canaan, and as it taunted him from just beyond the Jordan, it must have seemed farther away than ever.  As the people prepared to journey forward, he prepared to make his last journey, to travel the last few steps into the land that awaits us all, just beyond reach and yet always near, the journey toward which we travel and yet never arrive until the end.

It's easy to think of life as a vast, empty canvas upon which we paint with the enthusiasm of our youth.  I do not pretend to have aged enough to know the pressures of time leaning against me, reminding me, through aching joints or fleeting memories or the passing of dear friends, that the journey in this place does not last forever, and whether we will it or not, the canvas will soon be filled with something.  It is our life's work, but often we wandered across it so unintentionally, so occupied with what we believe is pressing in the moment, that the footprints our feet leave do not have any appreciable pattern.  They are random, and while we could, perhaps, make some artistic interpretation of them, they have not been set there with design.

The alternative is to seize upon the canvas as the opportunity that it is, to paint with intention and purpose throughout our days, going about them with the sole focus of serving Christ in our present situation.  In this way, we are fully alive to what is before us, the gift of the moment, of the present, of now.  In this way, we are not so distracted that we miss what God is doing in and around us.  In this way, we do not make more of petty things than they deserve.

I dare not pretend that I have used all of my time here well.  Some of it, I will say, has been used well.  Some of it has been lived with intention, but much of it has been drifting, distraction, occupying my time rather than filling it.  And so I pray for wisdom and courage, for intention, so that I will remember that my time is fleeting, that my life has purpose, and that I might have the wisdom to glorify God in the midst of all I do.

Witness to the Resurrection of Polly Black

2 Corinthians 1:18-22

  18 God can be trusted, and so can I, when I say that our answer to you has always been “Yes” and never “No.” 19 This is because Jesus Christ the Son of God is always “Yes” and never “No.” And he is the one that Silas, Timothy, and I told you about.

  20 Christ says “Yes” to all of God’s promises. That’s why we have Christ to say “Amen” for us to the glory of God. 21 And so God makes it possible for you and us to stand firmly together with Christ. God is also the one who chose us 22 and put his Spirit in our hearts to show that we belong only to him.

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The last few years have been rough on Polly.  No longer able to move as she once did, she was frustrated with much of her current situation.  Her body was failing her, and she looked forward to final redemption with joy in her heart.  She felt as though she had run her race, and she was waiting for the finish line to approach.

If we’re not careful, we let this final image of Polly dominate any other images.  If we aren’t careful, the idea of Polly in a hospital bed or a nursing home can loom larger over earlier images, images that are dominated by laughter and family and her devotion to church life.  We need to guard our image of Polly to ensure that it is a complete image, one that includes her earlier years as much as it does her later years.

So it’s helpful to gather and go through old pictures, just as it’s helpful to tell old stories, even if we’ve heard them before, because they remind us of what was good about Polly.  They tell a different story than the one nursing homes are capable of telling. 

In Paul’s 2^nd letter to the Corinthians, he also needs to do some reminding.  They have gotten caught up in some little things, in some debates that are leading their hearts away from the central issue of being the church together, and Paul is trying to bring them back to the promises God has made and the assurances we have in Christ Jesus.  Paul is trying to focus their eyes on God, and he does so by having them look at Christ, because Paul says that Jesus Christ is the ‘yes’ to all of God’s promises.

Now, think for a second about those promises.  These are promises of God to always be with us, to never let us out of his sight, that nothing shall separate us from his love and that we shall reign with him in heaven forever.  These are big promises, monumental promises, the type of promises that ought to make us cling to God in all we do.

But we tend to get caught up in other things, in little things, and they turn our eyes away from these promises.  We forget all the wondrous joy God has promised us.

And so Paul brings our eyes back to the joy of Christianity, back to the faith and the wonder and the hope of it all.  Paul fixes our eyes on Christ, and in so doing Paul reminds us that God has made it possible for us to stand firmly with Christ.  God has chosen us and claimed us by his Holy Spirit.  Christ, in his life, death and resurrection, is the assurance that all of these promises are faithful and true, that we can cling to them in all of life.

So we gather today to remind ourselves of Christ’s ‘yes’ to Polly Anna Black.  In Christ, God has said ‘yes’ to her, gathering her up in his mighty arms and shepherding her through the veil of death into life eternal.  God has said ‘yes’ to her, claiming her in the waters of baptism and making her his forever.  God has said ‘yes’ to her, because he has chosen her by his Spirit and will not let anything take her from him.  Polly belongs to God, and she now worships him in fullness and truth.

We, too, need to be reminded of these promises.  We tend to forget them in the face of life’s trials and tribulations and distractions.  We forget about all the good news and the hope and the joy.  We forget that God has said ‘yes’ to us, too, and claimed us forever by his Holy Spirit.  We forget that we depend on him and live our lives in the palm of his hand.  We forget that he holds the keys of eternal life.

So may you be reminded of just who is in charge of your life.  May you be reminded that Christ alone is the source of eternal life, and it to him alone that we must cling. 

Let us pray

Retreat Thoughts, day 3

Less than a mile from the retreat center where I have currently squirreled myself away from the busy-ness of daily life is the condo where I spent four months of my life before moving to Chattanooga.  Upon moving in, it was a grand escape, especially considering the situation which we had fled.  It was at the end of a street packed with stately houses lining the Chatahoochie River.  The verdant setting all but demanded a relaxing respite from the hectic job search in which I was immersed.

Of course, life had other ideas. 

Not long after we moved in, the man whose rims had been stolen was shooting at the car containing the chief suspects.  All of this took place at 5:00 in the evening, surprising both Rachel and I.  As we lay on the floor of our condo, uncertain exactly as how best to react to such a situation, the situation changed.  We no longer felt safe in our condo. 

Other things also proved to be a disappointment.  The weight room ended up being a ramshackle assortment of broken and dated machines, few of which were any good for exercise.  The days dragged on, despite my consistent raiding of the nearby library.  Boredom overtook me.

We constantly wondered what was behind the sign for the retreat center, but curiosity never carried me far enough to venture past the sign.  Had I done so, I would have discovered a lovely chapel and a serene setting where I could have passed the days in quiet retreat. 

My first thought upon arriving here this weekend was disappointment that I had not discovered this place.  I found that emotion odd, but common.  There is nothing I could do to change the past.  Those four months took place almost 6 years ago, and fretting over it now is hardly useful.  And yet that was my first reaction.

How much energy do I invest in wondering about the past, how things might have been different if only...?  How much time have I wasted wondering about what might have been, when that energy would be far better spent peering over the next horizon to see what God has in store or, better yet, paying attention to what God is doing here and now, that I might not look back with regret on time wasted or chances lost.

Retreat Thoughts, Day 2

In my backyard are two blueberry bushes.  They began life in the front yard, but when I was confronted with the sheer size and wildness of full-grown blueberry bushes, I opted to move them to the backyard, where they would be free to grow into their full splendor.  These are not the bushes out of which topiaries are made, and considering that I purchased them for their fruit-bearing capabilities, I had little interest in pruning them.

Since these bushes have been planted in my backyard, I have done nothing to abet their growth.  I have neither fertilized nor watered them.  They have been as neglected in the heat of a Chattanooga July as they have been in the depths of winter.  That they have survived at all is a testament to God's provision, not to any gardening capabilities I possess.  That they are thriving is quite shocking to any who might have attended to the neglect I have paid them.  Without a doubt, God has grown these little plants into mature bushes, and then God has seen fit to bless me with their fruit.  This year alone I was able to pull roughly ten cups of blueberries from their fertile branches.  All I have done is cover them with netting, and that endeavor was a selfish one, done to protect the budding fruit from the ravenous birds that might benefit from my bushes.  Considering how little I have done to aid these bushes in their growth, I ought not to be so protective of their fruit!

In sum, I have obtained the fruit of these bushes without tending to their growth.

In retrospection, I desire the same in my spiritual life. 

I long for spiritual consolation, for an alive and dynamic spiritual life, one that testifies to the reality of Christ's presence and is constantly aware of his amazing and gracious love for me.  I want to be awash in gratitude for unmerited favor, and yet I seem unwilling to invest my time and energy in practices that will open the eyes of my heart to God's presence and love.  I want the consolation, but I don't want to do the necessary work to be aware of it.  It's akin to saying that I want to be in Chicago but have no interest in investing in traveling there, preferring for God to miraculously transport me there instead.  While such a thing is surely possible for the God who designed the heart of the blue whale and the shell of the nautilus, it is highly unlikely.  If I had the wisdom to discern that God wanted to use me in Lincoln, Nebraska, it would be far wiser (and more faithful, I believe) to make travel plans accordingly. 

Yet my spiritual life indicates the opposite.  I act as though I believe that if God wants to console me by the power of the Holy Spirit, he will deliberately and obviously intervene in my life in such a way that I cannot miss it.  I do little to place myself in such a place to attend to and hear the leading of the Holy Spirit.  Taking a step backward to reflect, this is as foolish as waiting for God to teleport me to some distant location.  I do not doubt God's ability to do so—for surely the Spirit did such a thing to Philip in the book of Acts—but I do not expect such a thing.  In other areas of life, such activity would be akin to madness.  Imagine never saving money to pay rent in expectation of a wealthy benefactor appearing out of the blue to lavish financial gifts upon you.  While such an event might take place, it would be far more prudent to save money throughout the month so that the rent could be paid—in this way, one uses the gifts of God wisely to earn money to provide for oneself and one's loved ones.  Any money that appeared from a mysterious and wealthy benefactor would surely be welcomed with gratitude, but it would not be depended upon.  A lifetime of hard work and saving would not be negated by such a gift, but rather enriched.  Both would combine to form a solid financial resource.

It is my honest hope that I will endeavor to invest my energy in creating space in my life so that the Holy Spirit might have cleaner windows through which to shine into my life.  It is my goal to stop more often, to prop open the door of my soul so that the love of God might walk through, rather than always waiting for Jesus to transcend the often locked door of my life.  Just because I believe that Jesus can do so doesn't mean that waiting for him to do so is the most prudent way.