another seeker

I found myself behind the piano yesterday.

Eighty-Eight witnesses testified; voices, some short, others long. Some clambered on top of each other, shouting for attention. A few were shimmering echoes, conquering the embattlements of time’s forgetfulness.

They reminded me who I am.

I remembered.

I felt.

I breathed.

There were songs I hadn’t played in years, written by my own hand.
Playing the notes, feeling the draw of the music on my finger tips, attracting them to the keys.

When I play hymns or worship music, I find God.
I do it because it is praying through the keyboard.
I do it because God meets my heart as the sacrifice is lit ablaze and the people sing.
I do it because ten fingers can become ten little priests, helping people, almost mediating between the human and divine for a few moments before the divine tears away the curtain and reveals itself clothed in ancient words.

But yesterday,
something different happened.
You came when I was the only one in the room.
You danced between my fingers.
You blew upon the flickering embers
that so many storms threated to blow out.

I trembled at the presence, not just of you,
but realizing my own presence on the page,
my own voice speaking in eighty-eight tongues of flame
and the rushing wind of so many soundwaves.

And still, when I think it,
the room seems to shake,
and you ask me, “Who are you?
Who will stand up and be you?
Who will play for you?”

Unworthily,
I hit all the wrong notes,
but when even angels attempt,
the Sanctus still rings in heaven.

And I reply,
“I don’t know.
But all I know is I have felt you,
though I am a person of unclean hands,
and seen you,
though my eyes be cloudy.
All I ask is that you help me be me.
Even after so long.

No, I’m not about to plaigerize Edgar Allen Poe, but I have been doing two dangerous pastimes: reading and thinking.

Dr. Terry Cross, Dean of the School of Religion at Lee University once told his class, “Unfortunately much of our theology is made in the presence of our enemies.”  Just one unit into my “History of Christian Doctrine” class proves what often occurs. 

Doctrinally, Christianity tends to be full of pendulums.  For instance, some Christians fear that focusing on grace might lead to chaos, so they focus so much on the extremes of “working out” their “own salvation” that they annihilate the gospel.  Some Christians look at works of any kind and feel that they lead too easily to working for salvation.  Suddenly, works become evil in their minds, and their teachings swing the pendulum in the opposite direction.

For further example look at Christ, who is the most debated person in all of Christian theology (and rightly so).  In 381, the Council of Chalcedon basically declared him to be 100% God and 100% man.  I stink at math, but I’m pretty sure the end result equals more than 100%, making Christ a philosophical anomoly as well as a mathematical impossibility.  Before someone says, “with God all things are possible,” let me say that math teachers do NOT take that as an excuse for an impossible answer to an algebra equation!

The problem of 100% and 100% is that it is balanced.  Look around at other humans.  How many of us are truly balanced? 

We go a little here, a little there.  Maybe we slip more towards one opinion when it suits our scriptural interpretation.  Maybe in times of grief we go overboard in exasperation.  When you get down to it, it’s really hard to hold 100/100 in mind. 

But…

Oftentimes Christianity has paid lipservice to this doctrine.  Prior to Chalcedon, the famous heretic Nestorious was teaching that Mary bore both God and man in her womb.  Sounds a lot like Chalcedon, right?  He was practically black-listed in Christianity for his stand.  What happened?  The pendulum was swinging the wrong way.  People had fought so hard to defend Christ’s divinity that they believed the central (later deemed “orthodox”) position was sinful. 

If you are so gung-ho about whatever your battle cry of faith is, I encourage you to do one thing:
TEST EVERYTHING!  The Apostle Paul said to “test everything, cleave to that which is good.”  It’s great if you’re already cleaving to what is good, but is it because you have tested the fact, or because someone else has already said, “it’s good?”  Such a practice is great for learning, but testing is needed for growing. 

The danger is that one day, regardless of where our pendulum takes us,
we will realize we became disconnected from our Source,
and the gravity of our idolatrous convictions,
sends us crashing to the Pit.

May the Father of All Truth,
cast down every lie through the Son who is the Way, Life and Truth,
and test us by the fire of His Spirit of Truth.
Amen.

    By now the local news, newspaper, and the national TV program Inside Edition have already covered the fact that Omarosa has started the doctoral program at United Theological Seminary, Dayton, OH, where I’m working on an MDiv.

     I confess, I was very skeptical about this.  I honestly did not know her when I met her.  I only saw the TV camera and microphone hovering around her on her first day.  When someone told me she had been on Donald Trump’s “The Apprentice,” I kind of shrugged, only having watched it very sparingly.  Googling her, I found out she was famous as the “villain” of a number of “reality TV” shows (which I agree with the sentiment that most of it is neither real nor TV). 

     My first thoughts (which stayed for about 24 hours) were all cynical.  What in heaven’s name did we do?  Doesn’t anyone know her reputation?  Is this just a publicity stunt?  Unfortunately, I’ve also heard some of these thoughts from other people.

BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

     Isn’t the good news of the gospel I claim to follow that God takes in everyone?  Isn’t the power of the Holy Spirit supposed to be strong enough to change us into a new creation?  Did God ask us who to call to ministry?  If God uses the “weak” and “foolish things of the world” for His purposes, why is it so easy to discredit someone who has shown professional prowess, been a very educated individual, and who has gained a following in modern media culture?

     Two cases resemble this.  One person sought to persecute Christians, “breathing murderous things” against them.  He was present at the death of the first Christian martyr.  Upon encountering Jesus Christ, hsi whole identity changed.  And, in the process it took many Christians some time to realize he was not trying to still destroy them.  He went on to write most of the New Testament and influence our views of Jesus Christ for the past two millenia: the Apostle Paul.
    
     Another person was most likely raised by a heretical form of Christianity (using the designation the Catholic church gave it).  Even that he left in pursuit of philosophy, eventually leading him to what I would call a cult that was even more heretical than the church he was raised in.  He freely wrote about his many sins later in life, including sexual issues (that ought to get people’s attention).  Yet, St. Augustine went on to be such an influential theologian for the 1700 years since that it has been argued that all modern theology is in some way either based off his work or made by contradicting it. 

     In the presence of such great a cloud of witnesses to the work of Christ, it will be exciting to see what the same God who brought about such works can do in anyone today. 

     Furthermore, it is often seen in scripture that when people are considered enemies of God’s people, they are also described as enemies of God.  This post is both to give food for thought, and also an act of repentance for my own attitude the beginning of this week. 

     Finally, to build up the body of Christ, God can also use you, no matter how you have disqualified yourself.

Most readers probably have no idea who Tim Binkley is.  He has been the archivist at United Theological Seminary since before I started grad school.  He is preparing to leave UTS to work at the library for Southern Methodist University in Dallas, TX. 

He and his wife are two of the most peaceful and gracious people I know.  Through her work in our bookstore and his work in our archives, they have truly lived in the “Communion of the Saints,” and have helped me along in my own journey.  Even if we were able to find someone with all of the archival skill, I am afraid we will never find anybody with the heart Tim has for the heritage in our archives.  This may sound mushy, but we had a campus farewell luncheon for them earlier today, and we in the library had our celebration for them on Tuesday.  Be in prayer for them and for we who remain in the library.  As the “Communion of the Saints” has proved, we who follow Christ are brothers and sisters in His family no matter the distance or the difference in our work for God.

A lot has happened in the last few months. 

Since my last post…

1.  My wife and I have moved to a new apartment.  This is the first time we’ve lived on our own in about        1/2 years or so.

2.  We’ve bought a second car.

3.  Work at the library has continued.  I helped clean our replica of the 1903 Wright Glider.  We’ve been closed to the public in order to do a sort of inventory of our shelves. 

4.  My reading for this summer has been slow, but I’ve read a book on pioneer female preachers (1740′s to 1840′s), “Gender and the Social Gospel Movement,” and am working on “Dietrich Bonhoffer and the Resistance,” by Sabine Dramm.  

5.  I finally got on Facebook.

     It feels like summer has almost slipped away, yet in the middle of all I have done and have yet to do, I feel God’s peace.  I do honestly feel I am where he wants me for the moment.  But “for the moment” is the key.  In the 12 Steps of addiction recovery, Step 3 has always been my most difficult.  “We made a conscious decision to turn our lives and our will over to the care of God as we understand him.”  The temporary moment I’m living in makes this all the more necessary, because my understanding of God changes from moment to moment.  True, I always believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  However, my openness to know God more means my understanding changes, meaning that conscious decision is “one day at a time, one moment at a time.” 

May the Father of time grant us to be in this moment.

May the Son who divided all of time help us redeem it.

May the Spirit, “the Lord and Giver of life” strengthen us to do it in the next moment.

Amen.

This is a reflection on the event I wrote about yesterday.

The Icons of the Chapel of the Immaculate Conception through Stained Glass Saints

Eyes of fire
     light the present in the flames of eternity,
     not punishment, darkness, death,
     by energy of what was and could yet be.

Time converges
     in a gaze of joy
     on the beloved faces
     with sin unalloyed.

Radiant beams
     on their holy faces
     call forth my dawn
     giving me their graces

     to stand in their presence,
          dance in their glow
               of the illuminating family
                    through whom the Light flows.

Pardon the silence. 

I just wanted to write something from an experience earlier today. 

Due to work schedules (and my seminary being closed on Mondays during the day), I’ve been spending some time on the campus of the University of Dayton for a few Mondays.  I’ve enjoyed the opportunity to join Mass in their Chapel of the Immaculate Conception a few of these times, and sometimes I just spend time in prayer when no one else is the in the chapel.  Other times I bring my studying in there since it is an act of worship, loving God with my mind.

Today I was studying outside and decided my eyes needed a break from the book I was working on, so I took my reading to the Chapel.  The essay I was about to start on involved sensory forms of worship according to Jewish and Christian perspectives.  As a Protestant, I think my part of Christianity has only begun recognizing the power of images, so to speak, within my lifetime, at least the Protestant circles in which I’ve sojourned.  Still, without the perspective of veneration, or a strong sense of the Communion of the Saints, the images remain lifeless apart from the imagination.

I chose to sit in a different part of the chapel while reading.  When I looked up, I noticed beautiful stained glass windows above the chancel area that are unseen from the areas where I normally sit.  My view was of Saints Peter and Augustine.  Anyone who has read this blog knows I lit up when I made out the letters for Augustine (of course, now I’m having second doubts and will really be embarrassed if I was wrong).  

The beautiful moment was when I found where the light was shining through from the afternoon sun.  The colors were adorning the icons of Mary, Joseph, and (I’m assuming) Elizabeth.  The beliefs and traditions we cherish and in which we find the teachings of the faith are illumined for us through the lives of the saints.  Here Peter and Augustine were shining upon other saints from the sacred page, giving them a beautiful aura, and that very aura is a symbol of God through the radiance of the sun which is compared with the Holy Scriptures in Psalm 19.Certainly, the icons did not have any color in and of themselves, but the details were brought out by those who conveyed them.  Like so, Christ’s cross testifies of itself, so-to-speak.  It is not abstract, but a concrete reality.  However, the evangelists (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) all share different aspects of this divine encounter because not one single perspective (nay, not even all four put together) could encapsulate the divine meanings and mysteries of Christ’s death and resurrection.  

This, again, makes me affirm the words of the Apostles’ Creed:

“I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the holy catholic church,
the communion of the saints…”  Amen. 

This might seem a little late, but I wish to encourage everyone with a line from the Easter mass that has been in my thoughts this whole week:

The joy of the resurrection renews the whole earth.

     Some of you may know that the Church is currently celebrating Lent, the forty day (more or less) stretch of time between Ash Wednesday and Easter.  It’s a season of repentance and self examination in the spirit of the early church, who prepared people for Baptism during this time.  People celebrate it different ways.  The traditional kick off for Lent is the Ash Wednesday service, where Christians are to contemplate our mortality, our sin, and our need of God’s grace.  If you saw anyone a few weeks ago with black marks on their foreheads, they most likely attended such a service.  The “Ash” comes from an Old Testament sign of mourning.  Catholics will also eat fish on Fridays (which almost sounds like a Monty Python punch line in this entry), explaining why so many fast food restaurants are pushing their fish sandwiches this time of year.  The period of time between Ash Wednesday and Lent culminates in Holy Week: Palm Sunday (Christ’s entrance into Jerusalem just prior to his crucifixion), Maundy/Holy Thursday (The Last Supper), Good Friday (Christ’s death), Holy Saturday/Harrowing of Hell (Okay, so most non-Catholic churches do not own this tradition, and I disagree with it, but I think it’s an awesome story), and EASTER (Christ’s resurrection from the dead).  

     Now that you’ve had a crash course in this important season of the Church year, you may have heard that it’s a common practice for people to give something up during Lent.  Sometimes people give up TV, or certain types of foods.  I usually try not to say anything about my Lenten observance, but this bears some thought.  Last year, and this year, I chose to give up my namesake: COFFEE.  It’s a daily thing for me, so its absence (and usual replacement with Earl Grey or other teas) centers my mind back on the season. 

BUT…

     I’ve heard two people make a great point this year.  One friend has chosen to identify with the suffering people of Rwanda by mainly eating staple foods from there throughout these forty days, and to learn more about the struggles they have endured.  Another person, who is on maybe a less drastic track, makes it a point during Lent to improve themselves in some way (i.e., being more polite). 

    It has me thinking:  Isaiah talked about how the fast God has chosen is one that helps others.  It doesn’t say fasting or giving stuff up should not be done, but that part of it is to help other people (feeding the hungry, assisting people who need help, remembering the disinherited).  Lent is about more than ashes and coffee, or whatever else people give up.  That seems to be more of a modern American convention (caring more for my soul than the lives of others), I think.  We matter as individuals to God, but our individuality is a worthless value if we never take into account the lives of others. 

     One of the last books we discussed in my Christian Autobiography class was Thomas Merton’s “Life and Holiness.”  He is able to speak in very moving ways about the truth of the “Mystical Body of Christ,” but holiness is very rooted in how we treat and work on behalf of others, especially those who may one day come to the faith (even if they do not believe today). 

     I don’t know where this is going, and I feel it’s too late to make a drastic change this year…  But one change I want to attempt is the tone with which I write on this blog.  A friend of mine recently shut down his blog.  God told him to do so because of how negative his entries.  At times I feel a little acidity on the tongue is helpful to communicate a point, but I apologize for the many times I’ve treated possible readers in very un-Christlike ways.  Some comments I’ve written have been so unnecessarily rude that I wouldn’t listen to somebody else tell them to me.  

     Maybe this is a small start.  Pray for me, and I’ll pray for you as we journey on towards our own experiences of death and resurrection in the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.