I've been marinating in a familiar text, as if I'd never seen it before. John's famous prologue--John 1:1-18--is amazing. We read this as if it is old news, but check this out.
The NIV, NKJV and KJV all translate John 1:1 like this:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
Good news. A bit mysterious. But not nearly as far-out as John originally said it.
This past fall, as we traveled throughout Europe, we visited dozens of cathedrals and churches. Often, as in Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel painting, God is depicted as an old, ye powerful and wizened man. White beard and all. These paintings were done in order to instruct and help us understand Bible stories and truths.
The same anthropomorphic teaching is written into some God-descriptions of the Old Testament. We read of God's right hand, of God's holy arm, or of God's eyes or face. We also read of God sheltering us under wings, and of God riding on clouds. These are not intended to be literal. They are ways that limited language can represent an unlimited God.
Yet, I fear these images, if we are not careful, can dampen our maturing comprehension of the person and presence of God. When God said there should be no graven images, perhaps this is what was to be avoided.
In the movie CONTACT, Jodi Foster plays the role of a woman who is chosen to travel into space where she sees some incredible, indescribable scene. Enraptured and unable to express the awe of what she takes in, she stammers: "No, no words. No words. Indescribable....They should have sent a poet."
In my thinking, John's prologue is such poetry. Listen to one literal translation of John 1:1 as taken from the original Greek. "In the beginning, was the SAYING, and the SAYING was toward God, and the SAYING was God." Now the word "SAYING" here is the Greek word "logos." It has also been translated as "mind," or "Word."
And so at creation, the Logos/mind/Word/Saying is speaking creation into existence. Compare Genesis and John here. God hovers over chaos and speaks light, and life and order into being. Consider the angel's message to Mary in the familiar Christmas story, the Spirit will "hover" over you, and your child will be called the Son of God."
This Sunday, I hope to open minds to mystery...the kind of mystery that says some indescribable energy--which we know as God, and we know is LOVE--is speaking grace and truth to us. And that in a very visible and touchable Jesus, we have seen what is the truth of this mysterious and mighty God. And that same hovering, mystery who speaks life and light into existence, speaks children of God into existence as well.
This Sunday, if for only few moments, I long to be a poet.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Reflecting on a Sabbatical: Part One
Journaled on Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Many have been asking me if I enjoyed my trip, or if we had a nice vacation. I can only answer with a "Yes." However, if I have time to speak with those who ask--I mean, if I have the time to sit down and look them in the eye long enough for each of us to see beyond the haze of cliche--then I can speak truth to them. The past three and one half months have been the most grueling and wonderfully transforming months I've ever lived.
I've never treated a journey with such reverence. I treasured each day of our recent sabbatical as a gift of life, not of place. So coming home has not seemed a desertion of pleasure, but a continuing of the sojourn. It has not been a disappointing return to the "same old." I have returned to a place I've never been. Same house, same job, same cars and dogs and bills. Different me.
I treasure the Italian apartment we called home for six weeks of our fourteen week, four-continent trip. But I don't long to be back there, in the way I have pined in times past for some surf-side beach chair. What Christ accomplished there, I am experiencing here, now, today--beside the fire in my home. And I benefitted from it earlier today as I encouraged a parishioner who is grieving, and yesterday in a nursing facility while ministering to a friend who has had yet another stroke.
The peace of Christ which is beyond understanding has worked in and through me. And that peace could not have been found on a three week vacation. It required entering daily into the mine of prayer. Daily, over the course of months. (This has not stopped). Finding peace required much confession and loving counsel. Peace was not gained like some loaf of bread to be picked up on aisle one. Peace emerged in tiny nuggets--minute, yet treasured fragments of authenticity and truth; extracted from massive boulder-sized frustration, selfish ambition, grief, and even some unknown resentment that I had been carefully and diligently sweeping under the rug of my psyche.
Spiritual work is not easy. And it cannot be hurried. The Lilly Endowment's Clergy Renewal Grant has provided me the time and the space to do the difficult work of sorting out my life and spirit. Fourteen weeks may seem a long time, but it was only after week thirteen, that I was ready for one more visit with my spiritual director. There I dropped my last anxieties of returning to ministry. I was ready: a new and centered man.
The global destinations we visited were spectacular. Some see them as the reason for the journey. They were not. They were only the setting of a journey of prayer and devotion. I traveled a far greater distance in my heart and head, than over land or sea.
Many have been asking me if I enjoyed my trip, or if we had a nice vacation. I can only answer with a "Yes." However, if I have time to speak with those who ask--I mean, if I have the time to sit down and look them in the eye long enough for each of us to see beyond the haze of cliche--then I can speak truth to them. The past three and one half months have been the most grueling and wonderfully transforming months I've ever lived.
I've never treated a journey with such reverence. I treasured each day of our recent sabbatical as a gift of life, not of place. So coming home has not seemed a desertion of pleasure, but a continuing of the sojourn. It has not been a disappointing return to the "same old." I have returned to a place I've never been. Same house, same job, same cars and dogs and bills. Different me.
I treasure the Italian apartment we called home for six weeks of our fourteen week, four-continent trip. But I don't long to be back there, in the way I have pined in times past for some surf-side beach chair. What Christ accomplished there, I am experiencing here, now, today--beside the fire in my home. And I benefitted from it earlier today as I encouraged a parishioner who is grieving, and yesterday in a nursing facility while ministering to a friend who has had yet another stroke.
The peace of Christ which is beyond understanding has worked in and through me. And that peace could not have been found on a three week vacation. It required entering daily into the mine of prayer. Daily, over the course of months. (This has not stopped). Finding peace required much confession and loving counsel. Peace was not gained like some loaf of bread to be picked up on aisle one. Peace emerged in tiny nuggets--minute, yet treasured fragments of authenticity and truth; extracted from massive boulder-sized frustration, selfish ambition, grief, and even some unknown resentment that I had been carefully and diligently sweeping under the rug of my psyche.
Spiritual work is not easy. And it cannot be hurried. The Lilly Endowment's Clergy Renewal Grant has provided me the time and the space to do the difficult work of sorting out my life and spirit. Fourteen weeks may seem a long time, but it was only after week thirteen, that I was ready for one more visit with my spiritual director. There I dropped my last anxieties of returning to ministry. I was ready: a new and centered man.
The global destinations we visited were spectacular. Some see them as the reason for the journey. They were not. They were only the setting of a journey of prayer and devotion. I traveled a far greater distance in my heart and head, than over land or sea.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
THE RUNAWAY PASTOR--Black Friday Special!
Runaway Pastor--Black Friday Special!
Get a jump on your Christmas shopping. Until midnight tomorrow, Friday, November 26, autographed copies of THE RUNAWAY PASTOR, by David Hayes, are available at discount prices. Here's the deal: Email http://www.runawaypastor.gmail.com before midnight, Friday night with the number of books you want. Then, as soon as we receive your check for the full amount, we will mail you your autographed copies. Be sure and let us know if you want gift or personal books signed "To _______."
Price: 1 Copy ---------------------- $11.
2 Copies ------------------- $21.
3-11 Copies------------ @ $10. per copy
12 Copies or more------- Ask for quote
USA orders only.
Get a jump on your Christmas shopping. Until midnight tomorrow, Friday, November 26, autographed copies of THE RUNAWAY PASTOR, by David Hayes, are available at discount prices. Here's the deal: Email http://www.runawaypastor.gmail.com before midnight, Friday night with the number of books you want. Then, as soon as we receive your check for the full amount, we will mail you your autographed copies. Be sure and let us know if you want gift or personal books signed "To _______."
Price: 1 Copy ---------------------- $11.
2 Copies ------------------- $21.
3-11 Copies------------ @ $10. per copy
12 Copies or more------- Ask for quote
USA orders only.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Currently posting at SABBATICAL BLOG
Current sabbatical posting at stepawaypastor.blogspot.com
You can also find pictures and more consistent blogging at my wife's blog.
Please follow my sojourns in the US, Europe, Asia and Africa there. I will be back to this site later.
Peace to you, and I welcome your prayers.
David
--stepping away for a while.
You can also find pictures and more consistent blogging at my wife's blog.
Please follow my sojourns in the US, Europe, Asia and Africa there. I will be back to this site later.
Peace to you, and I welcome your prayers.
David
--stepping away for a while.
Monday, August 23, 2010
There have been times when I have wanted to run away. More specifically, I have wanted to run away from my job. And during those dark days, when I could see nothing but gloom and struggle, I wrote the novel to go along with the desire.
Many pastors, and others in compassion related work, have shared with me their desires to run, or the results of when they finally did. Most left their "jobs," but several, left their spouse as well. This is a story line in my book, The Runaway Pastor.
Many pastors who have "run" tell me later, that if they could only have had some time--the chance to step away and breath and feel, they believe they would have stayed in their ministry. And for some of them, they feel they might still be living with their spouse and their children. But the opportunity was not available. With most of them, there is substantial melancholy about their new life direction. "Life is easier," they say "I don't think I would have lasted much longer...but sometimes I wonder about what might have been had I been able to step away for a while, with the hopes of staying in." By the end of their speaking, their eyes are gazing far away, to some world that never was.
I am writing to share good news. Thanks to the kindness of the gracious congregation I pastor, and to a Clergy Renewal Grant from the Lilly Endowment, I have been given the opportunity to step away. Beginning this Sunday, and extending through mid December, I will be relieved of my duties, and I have been provided with means to attend a conference, take time away alone, then time with my family, and finally time away with my wife.
While I have not been The Runaway Pastor in reality, I now am afforded the opportunity to be the step away pastor.
Besides a sermon in Kiev, Ukraine, loving people wherever I am, and learning and networking for all I'm worth at a conference; I am not going to put many expectations on myself while I am away. But I will write. What I will write, I don't know. But if you are interested in following along--should I make it worthwhile--you will be able to track me at my new blog, Step Away Pastor. The actual address/URL is http://www.stepawaypastor.blogspot.com .
I'd love for you to sign on as a follower and sign-up for RS feeds. It would also be cool if you tweet or facebook, to pass these along when you read. I'm probably finished blogging on The Runaway Pastor for a while. Now, I'm being obedient to a call to be the step away pastor.
Many pastors, and others in compassion related work, have shared with me their desires to run, or the results of when they finally did. Most left their "jobs," but several, left their spouse as well. This is a story line in my book, The Runaway Pastor.
Many pastors who have "run" tell me later, that if they could only have had some time--the chance to step away and breath and feel, they believe they would have stayed in their ministry. And for some of them, they feel they might still be living with their spouse and their children. But the opportunity was not available. With most of them, there is substantial melancholy about their new life direction. "Life is easier," they say "I don't think I would have lasted much longer...but sometimes I wonder about what might have been had I been able to step away for a while, with the hopes of staying in." By the end of their speaking, their eyes are gazing far away, to some world that never was.
I am writing to share good news. Thanks to the kindness of the gracious congregation I pastor, and to a Clergy Renewal Grant from the Lilly Endowment, I have been given the opportunity to step away. Beginning this Sunday, and extending through mid December, I will be relieved of my duties, and I have been provided with means to attend a conference, take time away alone, then time with my family, and finally time away with my wife.
While I have not been The Runaway Pastor in reality, I now am afforded the opportunity to be the step away pastor.
Besides a sermon in Kiev, Ukraine, loving people wherever I am, and learning and networking for all I'm worth at a conference; I am not going to put many expectations on myself while I am away. But I will write. What I will write, I don't know. But if you are interested in following along--should I make it worthwhile--you will be able to track me at my new blog, Step Away Pastor. The actual address/URL is http://www.stepawaypastor.blogspot.com .
I'd love for you to sign on as a follower and sign-up for RS feeds. It would also be cool if you tweet or facebook, to pass these along when you read. I'm probably finished blogging on The Runaway Pastor for a while. Now, I'm being obedient to a call to be the step away pastor.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Struggling with a "Big Tent Christianity," and despairing over national division.
Last week was a synchro-blogging event for a thing called Big Tent Christianity. The idea is for Christians to come together and accept each other in a sort of "big tent" way. I got a bit cynical on one of my attempts, and sarcastic on another. Then, I was just plain defensive, trying not to offend anyone by who I let in my big tent. Finally, I just got sad and discouraged.
And my thinking went beyond the church and its tent. I despair at the division in my country, in our churches, and in seemingly every venue of human endeavor. We are thwarted from progress or from maintaining the good by the dark powers of division.
A great deal of blame goes to the media when it comes to our national bifurcation. Tension sells. And there are plenty of millionaires on TV and radio and the internet who create tension 5 days a week. In doing so, they create for themselves a very fine living...thank you very much. (I said "living," not "life.")
Saddest of all, the church and the state are tag-teaming in ways that are unbecoming to both. In the name of God, God's children are learning to rage at God's children. Hot button topics are used by left and right to polarize people--who are typically good at loving--into separate camps. Armed camps. Armed with words and threats and visceral anger.
Big tent??? I fear church people aren't even capable of loving those in their own congregational tent. Why go for a big one, when the spirit of the age--which we so gladly embrace--is the spirit of divide and conquer? It is all too common for people to judge the spiritual lives of others based upon their political opinions.
Thanks to a gracious grant and a sabbatical, I will be out of our country during the fervent peek of the approaching election cycle. What bliss. I will be seeking to live under the reign of God. People have lived under this reign for millennia. But today, many are exiting its blessings, in favor of hatred and division in the name of--and while waving the flag of--a kingdom of this world.
I am grateful for my country. I complement those who become active in the political process, so long as they follow Christ's teaching. A few beatitudes come to mind. Blessed are the peace-makers, Blessed are the meek, and blessed are the pure in heart.
As much as I love my country, I must reserve the right to love each of its citizens--no mattter their politics or religion. I must insist on this love. And I love citizens of all other nations, no matter their political, religious or ethnic persuasion. I can't help it. Sit down and look in the eyes of another human being. Hold their children in your lap. Listen to a father's dreams, or witness the twinkle in a mother's eye. Share your stories with them, and you will love them...no matter the flag waving outside of their nation's capitol. You have to love them. It is what Jesus does.
I like big tents. There probably is one. I just despair of finding enough people willing to get along to populate it.
Check out Matthew chapters 5, 6 and 7 and choose a kingdom.
And my thinking went beyond the church and its tent. I despair at the division in my country, in our churches, and in seemingly every venue of human endeavor. We are thwarted from progress or from maintaining the good by the dark powers of division.
A great deal of blame goes to the media when it comes to our national bifurcation. Tension sells. And there are plenty of millionaires on TV and radio and the internet who create tension 5 days a week. In doing so, they create for themselves a very fine living...thank you very much. (I said "living," not "life.")
Saddest of all, the church and the state are tag-teaming in ways that are unbecoming to both. In the name of God, God's children are learning to rage at God's children. Hot button topics are used by left and right to polarize people--who are typically good at loving--into separate camps. Armed camps. Armed with words and threats and visceral anger.
Big tent??? I fear church people aren't even capable of loving those in their own congregational tent. Why go for a big one, when the spirit of the age--which we so gladly embrace--is the spirit of divide and conquer? It is all too common for people to judge the spiritual lives of others based upon their political opinions.
Thanks to a gracious grant and a sabbatical, I will be out of our country during the fervent peek of the approaching election cycle. What bliss. I will be seeking to live under the reign of God. People have lived under this reign for millennia. But today, many are exiting its blessings, in favor of hatred and division in the name of--and while waving the flag of--a kingdom of this world.
I am grateful for my country. I complement those who become active in the political process, so long as they follow Christ's teaching. A few beatitudes come to mind. Blessed are the peace-makers, Blessed are the meek, and blessed are the pure in heart.
As much as I love my country, I must reserve the right to love each of its citizens--no mattter their politics or religion. I must insist on this love. And I love citizens of all other nations, no matter their political, religious or ethnic persuasion. I can't help it. Sit down and look in the eyes of another human being. Hold their children in your lap. Listen to a father's dreams, or witness the twinkle in a mother's eye. Share your stories with them, and you will love them...no matter the flag waving outside of their nation's capitol. You have to love them. It is what Jesus does.
I like big tents. There probably is one. I just despair of finding enough people willing to get along to populate it.
Check out Matthew chapters 5, 6 and 7 and choose a kingdom.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Jack of all trades, and a master of none?
I love the idea of learning new languages. When living abroad in the early 90's, I had the opportunity to get a decent grip on Russian. I also took the time at one point to learn some very basic German vocabulary, and the numbers served me well a few times in a pinch. I studied French in school, but know very little, and about six years ago I took a Spanish class. When in Israel I learned to say some please and thank you kinds of words in Arabic and Modern Hebrew, but remember very few,--shukran you very much. In college I had to learn to read New Testament Greek, and for my master's paper I toiled/toyed with Old Testament Hebrew very little.
This fall Shelly and I are going to have the opportunity to spend some time in Italy. And so now we are both studying a bit of "get you around" Italian. Molto bene!
It's funny how all of these languages kind of take up residence in different places of your brain. Sure, sometimes I'll get my languages mixed, like coming up with a Russian word in an attempted Spanish sentence. But for the most part, if you are thinking in a language--and around it for a few days--your brain engages that particular gear for the time of need.
Just in case you are wondering, if my survival depended on my ability to speak any of the above languages, I'd get skinny pretty quickly. I can still--after 16 years--speak a bit of Russian. And I can come up with the right words here and there in a few others. But really, for all the passion I've placed upon learning to communicate with the people I visit, I have little to show. I am a jack of many languages, but a master of one--and that is if you count my native English! (Some readers may wonder about that now and then.)
What is your one thing? What are you passionate about? When the last words are spoken at your memorial, what will be their theme? I want to try and keep my stubborn self focused on the ways of Jesus. I want to speak him to my world fluently. And I want that place in my brain to be engaged when someone needs him.
In Philippians Paul said: "This one thing I do..." I want that to be true of me too.
This fall Shelly and I are going to have the opportunity to spend some time in Italy. And so now we are both studying a bit of "get you around" Italian. Molto bene!
It's funny how all of these languages kind of take up residence in different places of your brain. Sure, sometimes I'll get my languages mixed, like coming up with a Russian word in an attempted Spanish sentence. But for the most part, if you are thinking in a language--and around it for a few days--your brain engages that particular gear for the time of need.
Just in case you are wondering, if my survival depended on my ability to speak any of the above languages, I'd get skinny pretty quickly. I can still--after 16 years--speak a bit of Russian. And I can come up with the right words here and there in a few others. But really, for all the passion I've placed upon learning to communicate with the people I visit, I have little to show. I am a jack of many languages, but a master of one--and that is if you count my native English! (Some readers may wonder about that now and then.)
What is your one thing? What are you passionate about? When the last words are spoken at your memorial, what will be their theme? I want to try and keep my stubborn self focused on the ways of Jesus. I want to speak him to my world fluently. And I want that place in my brain to be engaged when someone needs him.
In Philippians Paul said: "This one thing I do..." I want that to be true of me too.
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