Surrendering ourselves to Jesus becomes little more than a thought exercise unless we see practical avenues in our lives in which we are given the opportunity to live it out. The discipline of fasting is one such powerful tool in this regard. Fasting is the act of abstaining from elements pertaining to our appetite in order to further give ourselves to prayer and communion with God. It should be noted that 'appetite' does not simply refer to the grumbles of the stomach, but refer to the wants and whims of our human nature. Fasting addresses those appetites, pertaining to life in the flesh, which only serve to move us away from spirit-filled living and imprison us in a life of self-satisfying cravings. Through the act of self-limiting, we turn ourselves away from these hindrances in order to more faithfully and intentionally rest in the presence of God. The physical act of going without that which we crave becomes an echo of the willful and spiritual laying down of ourselves before God. We ignore the claims of self, with its juvenile cries for attention, in order to more deeply immerse ourselves in the presence of the Spirit.
While we can fast from anything, electronics, media, sex, we most often think of fasting as it relates to our physical appetite for food. Fasting from food can be a powerful exercise, precisely because much our interaction with food is solely pleasure-based. That is to say that rather than food being a source of sustenance and nutrition, it is often that which serves to 'make us feel good.' We run to food when upset; we pacify our frustrations with alcoholic beverages, eating has even become a past-time all in itself. Based solely upon the ever-expanding waistbands of the average North American, it is abundantly clear that we have an unhealthy association with food.
Yet our unhealthy association with food goes far beyond our associations what and how much we choose to eat. A culture that can turn dieting into a competition clearly illustrates a lack of control over appetites. Clearly we have lost the basic understanding that food is a gift from God to be cherished and not squandered.
Fasting breaks us out of our self-destructive habits. It shocks the system out of that which in which it has grown comfortable, and in doing so places us profoundly before the spirit of God in uncluttered sacrifice. It is only when we refrain from the gluttonous associations surrounding food that we fully hear Christ's words that "Man does not live by bread alone.' (Matthew 4:4) By stripping away the amount of time we spend in shopping, ordering, preparing, and consuming food, we open ourselves to receive the better, and more satisfying bread from heaven.
It is important to remember that the purpose of fasting is not simply to go without food for a certain period of time. The time spent in usual association with food, not freed through the discipline of fasting, is therefore redirected to prayer and worship. In the Institutes of Christian Religion, John Calvin reminds us that the purpose of fasting is to free ourselves to become 'more eager and unencumbered for prayer.'
Through the practice of Fasting we are able to address anything that gets in the way of our spiritual progress toward Christlikeness. By going without our 'appetite' we become confronted with how much of a hold such things have on our lives. We realize, for example, just how often we check our social media status, how much time we spend on our cell phones, the quickness for which we turn on the television, or how our bodies physically react to the ceasing of constant sugar or caffeine related stimulants. Undoubtedly this can be an uncomfortable process.
There are many different types of food-related fasts that you can do. If you have never engaged in a fast before, I would recommend a 24 hour-2 meal fast. Simply stop eating after dinner time on one day, and do not eat until dinner time the next. A 2 meal fast isn't that hard on your body, you will feel the effects of hunger, which becomes a reminder for you to seek first God's kingdom. Beyond this, you can try a 24 hour-3 meal fast; for a 36 hour fast. Remember to drink lots of liquid (water or fruit juice) and consult your doctor if you fear any medical-related complications or concerns.
Much more could be said about the topic of Fasting, particularly regarding the many practical considerations pertaining to how we go about entering a fast. There is neither time nor space to speak about such matters here. I recommend Richard Foster’s chapter on Fasting in ‘Celebration of Discipline’ for any who wish to know more. I end this section with words from Andrew Murray:
Fasting helps express, deepen, and confirm the resolution that we are ready to sacrifice anything, even ourselves to attain what we seek for the Kingdom of God, and Jesus, who himself fasted and sacrificed, knows to value, accept, and reward with spiritual power the soul that is thus ready to give up everything for him and his kingdom. (From With Christ in the School of Prayer)
Friday, 24 July 2015
Monday, 20 July 2015
Week #15: Ask for Help.
My father tells a story of the time when my family did not have much money to speak of. It was unknown from where our next meal was to come from. Unbeknownst to us children, hampers of groceries were frequently left on our doorstep by anonymous donors. On one such occasion, my father met one of these donors, a kind old gentleman from our church. Coming fact of face, not with the groceries but his own uncomfortableness with needing help, my father instantly began to refuse the gift. They would be fine, he objected, no gifts were necessary. The gentleman simply smiled and said 'Without one to receive, one is not able to give."
We like to believe that we can do things alone, that we don't need any assistance. It almost seems as if this is the default position of modern life. After all, many idealize such mythical notions as 'the self-made man.' We chase what is popularly called 'The American Dream', but we know that it is really nothing more than the lie of the garden - You shall be like God, knowing good and evil. (Genesis 3:4-5) How can we be like god in our own day and need the assistance of another?
Because of this we often associate the receiving of help with inability or weakness. We easily succumb to the lie that tells us that needing help highlights a deep lack and/or negligence in our lives. It is embarrassing - an embarrassment we desperately try to void. Receiving help, worse yet asking for it, means we are trapped in that which we cannot do. It strips away our self-focused confidence and our egotistical pride.
Of course, offering help is another thing altogether. We laud and esteem the qualities of service and helpfulness! There is no problem with extending a helping hand to another. Helping others is even encouraged, for in this we are able to remain stalwart in our sense of competence. It means that we are powerful, we are able, we are steadfastly in control.
We would like to think that this dynamic doesn't occur in the church, but it does. The community of faith is naturally a place where people are willing to lend help at a moments notice. I have seen it many times. People give sacrificially toward a cause, a fund, or a family in need. It happens time and time again - the call goes out and the response is overwhelming. People dig deeply into their pockets of resources and give sacrificially. Yet so often these same people, so very willing to lend a hand to those less fortunate, will not allow others to help them. They refuse offers and reject invitations. They do not open up about their needs, or their hurts. To ask for help is just too uncomfortable.
Asking for help can be hard, because it displaces that throne of pride that so many of us carry deep within. There is a certain amount of humility that is needed in asking for help. We must be open and honest, not just about our abilities, but also our inabilities. In asking for help we are called to recognize the gifts of God, flowing through the talents and expertise of other people. It forces us beyond reliance on ourselves or our own competencies, and asks us to see our lives lived within the context of the community.
Asking for help moves us away from the rampant 'Me-and-Jesus' type of individualized spirituality that so often dominates our religious landscape.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul lists a variety of spiritual gifts. "And God has appointed in the church fist apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues." The King James Version used the term 'helps' in reference to the spiritual gift of assistance. Receiving help, then, allowed another person to exercise their spiritual gift, a gift exercised to the glory of God and the livelihood of the faithful communion.
What if we chose to understand the receiving of help in this manner? What if asking for, or receiving help spoke, not to our weakness or inability, but to our love for the community of faith - a love that causes us to lay down our need to pridefully assert our own independence and allow others to express the grace and love of God to us?
We all need help. Sometimes this is because we cannot do something, or do not know something, and we need to reach out to one who has the resources or knowledge to aid. Sometimes receiving help is more about allowing a brother or sister in faith to minister to us in the love of God. So when you uncover a need in your life - a need that you quickly attempt to swallow under your own competence, perhaps choose a different route. Take a deep breath, ask for help, or accept help when it is offered. Don't make it complicated, and attach no provision onto it. Allow no bargaining to take place. Just receive. Be forthright about your need and make the decision to see the help given as God's response of provision and love for you. Allow that help to lead you into a deeper dynamic of God's kingdom, a kingdom which is not yours alone but is experienced fully through the community of faith.
We like to believe that we can do things alone, that we don't need any assistance. It almost seems as if this is the default position of modern life. After all, many idealize such mythical notions as 'the self-made man.' We chase what is popularly called 'The American Dream', but we know that it is really nothing more than the lie of the garden - You shall be like God, knowing good and evil. (Genesis 3:4-5) How can we be like god in our own day and need the assistance of another?
Because of this we often associate the receiving of help with inability or weakness. We easily succumb to the lie that tells us that needing help highlights a deep lack and/or negligence in our lives. It is embarrassing - an embarrassment we desperately try to void. Receiving help, worse yet asking for it, means we are trapped in that which we cannot do. It strips away our self-focused confidence and our egotistical pride.
Of course, offering help is another thing altogether. We laud and esteem the qualities of service and helpfulness! There is no problem with extending a helping hand to another. Helping others is even encouraged, for in this we are able to remain stalwart in our sense of competence. It means that we are powerful, we are able, we are steadfastly in control.
We would like to think that this dynamic doesn't occur in the church, but it does. The community of faith is naturally a place where people are willing to lend help at a moments notice. I have seen it many times. People give sacrificially toward a cause, a fund, or a family in need. It happens time and time again - the call goes out and the response is overwhelming. People dig deeply into their pockets of resources and give sacrificially. Yet so often these same people, so very willing to lend a hand to those less fortunate, will not allow others to help them. They refuse offers and reject invitations. They do not open up about their needs, or their hurts. To ask for help is just too uncomfortable.
Asking for help can be hard, because it displaces that throne of pride that so many of us carry deep within. There is a certain amount of humility that is needed in asking for help. We must be open and honest, not just about our abilities, but also our inabilities. In asking for help we are called to recognize the gifts of God, flowing through the talents and expertise of other people. It forces us beyond reliance on ourselves or our own competencies, and asks us to see our lives lived within the context of the community.
Asking for help moves us away from the rampant 'Me-and-Jesus' type of individualized spirituality that so often dominates our religious landscape.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul lists a variety of spiritual gifts. "And God has appointed in the church fist apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues." The King James Version used the term 'helps' in reference to the spiritual gift of assistance. Receiving help, then, allowed another person to exercise their spiritual gift, a gift exercised to the glory of God and the livelihood of the faithful communion.
What if we chose to understand the receiving of help in this manner? What if asking for, or receiving help spoke, not to our weakness or inability, but to our love for the community of faith - a love that causes us to lay down our need to pridefully assert our own independence and allow others to express the grace and love of God to us?
We all need help. Sometimes this is because we cannot do something, or do not know something, and we need to reach out to one who has the resources or knowledge to aid. Sometimes receiving help is more about allowing a brother or sister in faith to minister to us in the love of God. So when you uncover a need in your life - a need that you quickly attempt to swallow under your own competence, perhaps choose a different route. Take a deep breath, ask for help, or accept help when it is offered. Don't make it complicated, and attach no provision onto it. Allow no bargaining to take place. Just receive. Be forthright about your need and make the decision to see the help given as God's response of provision and love for you. Allow that help to lead you into a deeper dynamic of God's kingdom, a kingdom which is not yours alone but is experienced fully through the community of faith.
Monday, 22 June 2015
Week #14: Cultivate Silence
We are constantly surrounded by a myriad of sounds. They surround us. Music, ads, and jingles play in every public sphere of our lives, from waiting rooms to elevators, from walking down the street to waiting on the phone. Then, of course, there is the sounds that we cultivate ourselves. We return home and instantly turn on the television. Early morning commutes occur in the presence of the radio, or the music blasting from our headphones. More and more, with every passing year, decade, and generations, sound becomes unavoidable, so unavoidable that the biblical call of 'for you, O God, my soul in silence waits'
We simply do not know how to remain silent.
We have grown accustomed to the noises of the background, noises that contain no importance, claim no focus, yet exists for the sole purpose of taking up acoustic space. We find comfort in background noise. Yet these noises do nothing but continually call our attention and focus away from our internal connection to God. There is always something else that we are called to focus on. Thus our attention and focus constantly shifts and continually moves. Here there can be no restedness, no peace, no rootedenss.
The early church had a saying 'Cultivate silence and it will teach you everything.' A single-hearted focus on God and His kingdom can only occur as we enter into the process of quieting ourselves before His presence. As long as the direction of our soul's activity and focus is upon the frantic otherness of the life around us we will never be able to catch even the smallest glimpse of the presence of God in our life.
Our reluctance to remain steadfast in prayer; our inability to discern God's own voice apart from the voices of the world, our feeling of skimming over the deep things of faith are all rooted in our inability to remain silent. Yet silence is that to which we are continually called. The prophet Isaiah beckons us with the words 'In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength. (Isaiah 30:15). In fact, the entire earth is called to 'keep silence' before The Lord in his holy temple (Habakuk 2:20). We cut ourselves off from a tremendous source of spiritual livelihood when we fail to adequately cultivate silence as a regular discipline of the life of faith.
Silence involves the closing off of ourselves to that which whirls around us. Noise, music, words of any kind are laid aside so that we can enter into the place of deep listening. We still the inner chatter. We open ourselves to God's presence and attempt, as best we can, to remain attentive to His words. Silence is a passive place. It is not defined by our activity or our striving. In silence we wait. We listen. We abide. We long for God to speak, to act, to move, and only then do we respond to the rhythms of God.
Dietrich Bonehoffer writes: "Silence is the simple stillness of the individual under the Word of God. We are silent before hearing the Word because our thoughts are already directed to the Word, as a child is quiet when he enters his Father's room. We are silent after hearing the Word because the word is still speaking and dwelling within us. . . . .Real silence, real stillness, really holding one's tongue comes only as the sober consequence of spiritual stillness. (Life together, page 79).
Cultivating silence can be as simple as finding 5 minutes during the day to sit it quietness and turn our attention to our Lord. Find a quiet place where you can remain undisturbed. To the best of your ability, remove all distractions of sight and sound from the atmosphere. Simply sit, with no agenda, with no notions of what will occur. Simply sit in an attitude of openness. Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to judge, slow to define. Simply ask God to be fill the quiet space, and expect that in God's own way, God will do so. After the 5 minutes are completed, then rise and continue on in the day, yet attempt to keep the inner quietness, cultivated in the space of external quietness, with you. Over time, this will become increasingly easier and a source of constant nourishment and power for your Christian journey.
We simply do not know how to remain silent.
We have grown accustomed to the noises of the background, noises that contain no importance, claim no focus, yet exists for the sole purpose of taking up acoustic space. We find comfort in background noise. Yet these noises do nothing but continually call our attention and focus away from our internal connection to God. There is always something else that we are called to focus on. Thus our attention and focus constantly shifts and continually moves. Here there can be no restedness, no peace, no rootedenss.
The early church had a saying 'Cultivate silence and it will teach you everything.' A single-hearted focus on God and His kingdom can only occur as we enter into the process of quieting ourselves before His presence. As long as the direction of our soul's activity and focus is upon the frantic otherness of the life around us we will never be able to catch even the smallest glimpse of the presence of God in our life.
Our reluctance to remain steadfast in prayer; our inability to discern God's own voice apart from the voices of the world, our feeling of skimming over the deep things of faith are all rooted in our inability to remain silent. Yet silence is that to which we are continually called. The prophet Isaiah beckons us with the words 'In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength. (Isaiah 30:15). In fact, the entire earth is called to 'keep silence' before The Lord in his holy temple (Habakuk 2:20). We cut ourselves off from a tremendous source of spiritual livelihood when we fail to adequately cultivate silence as a regular discipline of the life of faith.
Silence involves the closing off of ourselves to that which whirls around us. Noise, music, words of any kind are laid aside so that we can enter into the place of deep listening. We still the inner chatter. We open ourselves to God's presence and attempt, as best we can, to remain attentive to His words. Silence is a passive place. It is not defined by our activity or our striving. In silence we wait. We listen. We abide. We long for God to speak, to act, to move, and only then do we respond to the rhythms of God.
Dietrich Bonehoffer writes: "Silence is the simple stillness of the individual under the Word of God. We are silent before hearing the Word because our thoughts are already directed to the Word, as a child is quiet when he enters his Father's room. We are silent after hearing the Word because the word is still speaking and dwelling within us. . . . .Real silence, real stillness, really holding one's tongue comes only as the sober consequence of spiritual stillness. (Life together, page 79).
Cultivating silence can be as simple as finding 5 minutes during the day to sit it quietness and turn our attention to our Lord. Find a quiet place where you can remain undisturbed. To the best of your ability, remove all distractions of sight and sound from the atmosphere. Simply sit, with no agenda, with no notions of what will occur. Simply sit in an attitude of openness. Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to judge, slow to define. Simply ask God to be fill the quiet space, and expect that in God's own way, God will do so. After the 5 minutes are completed, then rise and continue on in the day, yet attempt to keep the inner quietness, cultivated in the space of external quietness, with you. Over time, this will become increasingly easier and a source of constant nourishment and power for your Christian journey.
Monday, 8 June 2015
Week #13: Drive the Speed Limit
I used to receive speeding tickets fairly regularly. I used to view the ‘Estimated Time of Arrival’ display on my GPS as a challenge to overcome. I used to relish at my ability do a 7 hour road-trip in a little less than 5hours. Each time that ETA time decreased I felt a jolt of victory. I say 'used to' because the attempting to live within the Discipline of Simplicity has caused me to slow down.
You may have never thought that the speed at which you drive may be a spiritual issue. I certainly never did. Yet desiring to live a life of single-hearted focus upon God lead me to wonder if my speeding was merely a product of having a ‘lead foot’, or whether there could be an underlying spiritual issue at play. Does our speeding speak to the manner in which we spiritually approach life around us? Could the act racing through the streets of our cities actually be a symptom of the manner in which we try to race through the activities and duties of my day? Could the desire to get to our destination as quickly as possible actually create an inability to acknowledge the presence of God in the beauty of the moment?
See, we live in a face paced world and it is easy to get caught up with the quickness of it. It is easy to see every time-frame as a challenge to be met. While we race to one event or task, our minds are already dwelling on that which we need to do afterwards. We never focus, we never rest, we never sit still. The rush rush of life forever rips our attention onto the next thing.
This is not the way that God wishes us to live in his presence. The call of God on our lives is not one in which we are called to rush toward a perceived goal. We are called acknowledge that God is alive and present in this moment. God does not call us to rush to him, as some destination held out for us in the future, but to realize and enter into his presence and activity as it is presently. In his book, "A Testament of Devotion", Thomas Kelly writes "I find He never guides us into an intolerable scramble of panting feverishness. The Cosmic Presence becomes, in part, our patience, for after all, God is at work in the world." God is active in us and through us, and his blessings are bountiful. We risk missing all of this when we speed through our lives.
The act of slowing down allows us to remove ourselves from the expectations and deadlines to which we constantly racing towards. That internal clock - the one continually telling us to be quicker, more productive, more efficient or generally 'better' - is silenced as we engage in the intricacy of the present moment. Slowing down allowed us to recognize the great spiritual truth, that God rarely calls us to ‘go faster’. Instead He calls us to ‘be still’; to ‘consider the lilies of the field’, and to ‘wait for the Lord.’
So the next time you are in your car, try slowing down and Drive the Speed limit. Try not to justify rushing ahead through the rhetoric of 'keeping up with the flow' or '70 really means 80'. No. Keep to the limit, and try not to concern yourself with how people around you may be responding. In this exercise, they are not your concern. Slow down not just your speed, but also your perceptions and attitudes as it relates to how you interact with the tapestry of life around you. Attempt to be conscious of the moment, and of God's presence in the intricacy of it. As you make your way through the streets, attempt to be still and wait for the Lord. Who knows, you just might find your car to be a place of powerful communion with God.
You may have never thought that the speed at which you drive may be a spiritual issue. I certainly never did. Yet desiring to live a life of single-hearted focus upon God lead me to wonder if my speeding was merely a product of having a ‘lead foot’, or whether there could be an underlying spiritual issue at play. Does our speeding speak to the manner in which we spiritually approach life around us? Could the act racing through the streets of our cities actually be a symptom of the manner in which we try to race through the activities and duties of my day? Could the desire to get to our destination as quickly as possible actually create an inability to acknowledge the presence of God in the beauty of the moment?
See, we live in a face paced world and it is easy to get caught up with the quickness of it. It is easy to see every time-frame as a challenge to be met. While we race to one event or task, our minds are already dwelling on that which we need to do afterwards. We never focus, we never rest, we never sit still. The rush rush of life forever rips our attention onto the next thing.
This is not the way that God wishes us to live in his presence. The call of God on our lives is not one in which we are called to rush toward a perceived goal. We are called acknowledge that God is alive and present in this moment. God does not call us to rush to him, as some destination held out for us in the future, but to realize and enter into his presence and activity as it is presently. In his book, "A Testament of Devotion", Thomas Kelly writes "I find He never guides us into an intolerable scramble of panting feverishness. The Cosmic Presence becomes, in part, our patience, for after all, God is at work in the world." God is active in us and through us, and his blessings are bountiful. We risk missing all of this when we speed through our lives.
The act of slowing down allows us to remove ourselves from the expectations and deadlines to which we constantly racing towards. That internal clock - the one continually telling us to be quicker, more productive, more efficient or generally 'better' - is silenced as we engage in the intricacy of the present moment. Slowing down allowed us to recognize the great spiritual truth, that God rarely calls us to ‘go faster’. Instead He calls us to ‘be still’; to ‘consider the lilies of the field’, and to ‘wait for the Lord.’
So the next time you are in your car, try slowing down and Drive the Speed limit. Try not to justify rushing ahead through the rhetoric of 'keeping up with the flow' or '70 really means 80'. No. Keep to the limit, and try not to concern yourself with how people around you may be responding. In this exercise, they are not your concern. Slow down not just your speed, but also your perceptions and attitudes as it relates to how you interact with the tapestry of life around you. Attempt to be conscious of the moment, and of God's presence in the intricacy of it. As you make your way through the streets, attempt to be still and wait for the Lord. Who knows, you just might find your car to be a place of powerful communion with God.
Friday, 29 May 2015
Week #12: Engage in the discipline of Morning and Evening Prayer
Prayer is essential to Christian living. This is true of all areas of our life of faith, but is especially true as we attempt to live out our Christian life through the discipline of Simplicity. There is simply no possible way that we can seek first the Kingdom of God, and his righteousness, apart from an active prayer life. A single hearted focus on God's kingdom is a prayerful focus.
Prayer calls us to a deeper reality of life. Through prayer we become open to the pulses of God's spirit; we become attuned to the whispers of God's voice. No longer is our Christian life merely a matter of dry belief or disassociated religious doctrine. Rather, our life of faith becomes a life in the Spirit. Through the discipline of prayer, our inward selves remain open to the graces of God, which then effects the manner in which we live our outward lives. The choices we make, the expressions of our desires, the very essence of how we engage in the life around us begins to change as we approach these things not solely in our own power or understanding.
It is through prayer that we are formed more deeply into the image of our Christ. It is through prayer that we hear the voice of God, a voice which directs, guides, challenges, convicts, and comforts. It is through prayer where we find the ability to more deeply enter into the reality of our healing and forgiveness. It is through prayer that we enter into an ongoing conversation with our Lord, a conversation that is the foundation of every faith-filled desire or activity. It is in prayer that we receive the strength to stand against temptation and live lives of obedience to the will of God.
The practice of morning and evening prayer, sometimes done through the use of liturgical rites, is an easy way to develop a deeper habit of prayer in our lives. Importantly, there is no legalism here. The practice of morning and evening prayer is not about the mere filling up of time or the lifeless recitation of words. Morning and evening prayer is less about the form we use and more about the focus which shapes our life. We are lead into freedom as the practice of prayer calls into a radical centredness, shaping us both inwardly and outwardly.
Through the practice of morning prayer we are able to lay before God our hopes, our anxieties, and our questions concerning the day which lies before us. We take the needed moments to enter once again the the mercies of God which are new every morning. We seek God's face as that which is our first priority, and our ultimate aim in life. We listen to God's voice, spoken in scripture and in silence, and we anticipate the Spirit's leading. The grace of morning prayer is that it aids us in our continual and day-long desire to be open to God in our lives. Having taken moments to ground ourselves in the desire for God's kingdom to be done on earth as it is in heaven, we are more apt to see expressions of that kingdom as we go through our day.
Through the practice of evening prayer we again approach this radical centredeness, this time examining our past thoughts, words and deeds in light of the call of faith. We thank God for the expressions of God's mercy and grace throughout the day, for the strength and peace that He brought. We ask God to bring to mind any ways in which we fell short of the glory of God, and we humbly confess those things before God, confident in His mercy. We lay our questions, our concerns before the one who never sleeps, thus freeing us from the habit of taking our concerns and worries with us into our night-time rest. We end the day in the same way as we began, in the place of freedom.
Without prayer, we have to ask ourselves, what does it mean to seek first the kingdom of God? How can we possibly seek God's will and kingdom in our life without developing a habit of continual, focused prayer? These things make no sense, and bare no concrete reality in our lives, without having a solid footing in prayer.
Find a liturgical resource that includes a form of morning or evening prayer and resolve to engage this practice for one month. While you do not want to be legalistic about it, understand that developing a habit requires a certain degree of discipline. Try to focus more on connecting with God than 'getting through' the liturgy. Reflect on your ability or inability to carry this prayerfulness with you throughout the day.
Prayer calls us to a deeper reality of life. Through prayer we become open to the pulses of God's spirit; we become attuned to the whispers of God's voice. No longer is our Christian life merely a matter of dry belief or disassociated religious doctrine. Rather, our life of faith becomes a life in the Spirit. Through the discipline of prayer, our inward selves remain open to the graces of God, which then effects the manner in which we live our outward lives. The choices we make, the expressions of our desires, the very essence of how we engage in the life around us begins to change as we approach these things not solely in our own power or understanding.
It is through prayer that we are formed more deeply into the image of our Christ. It is through prayer that we hear the voice of God, a voice which directs, guides, challenges, convicts, and comforts. It is through prayer where we find the ability to more deeply enter into the reality of our healing and forgiveness. It is through prayer that we enter into an ongoing conversation with our Lord, a conversation that is the foundation of every faith-filled desire or activity. It is in prayer that we receive the strength to stand against temptation and live lives of obedience to the will of God.
The practice of morning and evening prayer, sometimes done through the use of liturgical rites, is an easy way to develop a deeper habit of prayer in our lives. Importantly, there is no legalism here. The practice of morning and evening prayer is not about the mere filling up of time or the lifeless recitation of words. Morning and evening prayer is less about the form we use and more about the focus which shapes our life. We are lead into freedom as the practice of prayer calls into a radical centredness, shaping us both inwardly and outwardly.
Through the practice of morning prayer we are able to lay before God our hopes, our anxieties, and our questions concerning the day which lies before us. We take the needed moments to enter once again the the mercies of God which are new every morning. We seek God's face as that which is our first priority, and our ultimate aim in life. We listen to God's voice, spoken in scripture and in silence, and we anticipate the Spirit's leading. The grace of morning prayer is that it aids us in our continual and day-long desire to be open to God in our lives. Having taken moments to ground ourselves in the desire for God's kingdom to be done on earth as it is in heaven, we are more apt to see expressions of that kingdom as we go through our day.
Through the practice of evening prayer we again approach this radical centredeness, this time examining our past thoughts, words and deeds in light of the call of faith. We thank God for the expressions of God's mercy and grace throughout the day, for the strength and peace that He brought. We ask God to bring to mind any ways in which we fell short of the glory of God, and we humbly confess those things before God, confident in His mercy. We lay our questions, our concerns before the one who never sleeps, thus freeing us from the habit of taking our concerns and worries with us into our night-time rest. We end the day in the same way as we began, in the place of freedom.
Without prayer, we have to ask ourselves, what does it mean to seek first the kingdom of God? How can we possibly seek God's will and kingdom in our life without developing a habit of continual, focused prayer? These things make no sense, and bare no concrete reality in our lives, without having a solid footing in prayer.
Find a liturgical resource that includes a form of morning or evening prayer and resolve to engage this practice for one month. While you do not want to be legalistic about it, understand that developing a habit requires a certain degree of discipline. Try to focus more on connecting with God than 'getting through' the liturgy. Reflect on your ability or inability to carry this prayerfulness with you throughout the day.
Monday, 25 May 2015
Week 11: Carry a cross in your pocket.
Simplicity takes dedication and some focus. It is not something that we can just jump into and expect that we be able to master this discipline. The reality is quite the opposite. Simplicity, like each and every discipline, is not something we master. Simplicity is a way of ordering the entirety of our life, our bodily life, our thought live, and our spiritual life, around the one foundation of seeking first God's kingdom. In this sense there is a sense of progression as we learn how to live out the discipline of Simplicity.
A necessary part of this learning concerns the need to train ourselves to be attentive to the divine kingdom around us, and the divine voice within. For many, we simply have not developed the ability for such single hearted focus. The world of distractions, in which we are immersed, has provided a different sort of training. Our focus continually shifts from one thing to the next. The ever shifting landscape of images, sounds, and slogans constantly barge in upon us. Thus, so often the Kingdom of God gets squeezed out of attentiveness.
Thomas Kelly writes: "There is a way of ordering our mental life on more than one level at once. On one level we may be thinking, discussing, seeing, calculating, meeting all the demands of external affairs. But deep within, behind the scenes, at a profounder level, we may also be in prayer and adoration, song and worship and a gentle receptiveness to divine breathings." It is, what Kelly describes, as living from a 'divine center' in the midst of the tapestry of our regular life.
This centred living, however, while life-giving when it is achieved, can take some time to cultivate. Physical reminders, such as carrying a cross in your pocket, can serve as a needed reminder to refocus our lives and re-engage in a life of divine attentiveness. The manner this takes place in our lives can take many forms. You can use the physical presence of the cross to remember a Bible verse. In this manner, whenever you consciously recognize the cross in your pocket, or put your hand in your pocket and feel the cross, you inwardly repeat the verse of delay. Similarly, the same practice can be done as a reminder to pray. Here you may take a few moments, attempting to again enter into the 'divine centre' that Kelly spoke of. Or, you may simply hold a loved one, or a particular situation in prayer.
A contemporary version of this may be to use a religious picture as your cell phone screen. Many people today have smart-phones with personalized home-screens. What is more, for many the cell-phone is the tool which links them to the world around them. The cell phone is the tool for e-mail, messages, social media interactions, shopping, research, games, and host of other activities. Because of this, the cell-phone is perhaps the biggest tool of distraction in this modern day. It is simply the case that people are always on their phones. Changing the home-screen image to something that will remind you of the need for a single-hearted focus upon God's Kingdom is a wonderful way to interrupt the flow of distractions that come from the phone. Amid the dings and beeps of notifications, opening the phone, and seeing religious image on the home screen, calls us to you take a moment to be look to the Spirit of God, to root ourselves in the presence of God, to meditate, to pray, to look for where the drawing of the Spirit, before we look at the email or notification.
The beauty of this practice, whether a physical cross in the pocket or an image on our cell-phone, is that it only a second. It's strength, however, is found in training ourselves to be open to God's Spirit. In the midst of a hectic world it bares the constant reminder to step out of a life in which we are be distracted and consumed by the things of the world, and into a life in which we consciously open ourselves, single heartedly, to the things of God. Furthermore, born out over time, this practice equips us to not be 'distracted by many things', as we find ourselves being able to focus on 'the greater thing' for longer periods of time.
A necessary part of this learning concerns the need to train ourselves to be attentive to the divine kingdom around us, and the divine voice within. For many, we simply have not developed the ability for such single hearted focus. The world of distractions, in which we are immersed, has provided a different sort of training. Our focus continually shifts from one thing to the next. The ever shifting landscape of images, sounds, and slogans constantly barge in upon us. Thus, so often the Kingdom of God gets squeezed out of attentiveness.
Thomas Kelly writes: "There is a way of ordering our mental life on more than one level at once. On one level we may be thinking, discussing, seeing, calculating, meeting all the demands of external affairs. But deep within, behind the scenes, at a profounder level, we may also be in prayer and adoration, song and worship and a gentle receptiveness to divine breathings." It is, what Kelly describes, as living from a 'divine center' in the midst of the tapestry of our regular life.
This centred living, however, while life-giving when it is achieved, can take some time to cultivate. Physical reminders, such as carrying a cross in your pocket, can serve as a needed reminder to refocus our lives and re-engage in a life of divine attentiveness. The manner this takes place in our lives can take many forms. You can use the physical presence of the cross to remember a Bible verse. In this manner, whenever you consciously recognize the cross in your pocket, or put your hand in your pocket and feel the cross, you inwardly repeat the verse of delay. Similarly, the same practice can be done as a reminder to pray. Here you may take a few moments, attempting to again enter into the 'divine centre' that Kelly spoke of. Or, you may simply hold a loved one, or a particular situation in prayer.
A contemporary version of this may be to use a religious picture as your cell phone screen. Many people today have smart-phones with personalized home-screens. What is more, for many the cell-phone is the tool which links them to the world around them. The cell phone is the tool for e-mail, messages, social media interactions, shopping, research, games, and host of other activities. Because of this, the cell-phone is perhaps the biggest tool of distraction in this modern day. It is simply the case that people are always on their phones. Changing the home-screen image to something that will remind you of the need for a single-hearted focus upon God's Kingdom is a wonderful way to interrupt the flow of distractions that come from the phone. Amid the dings and beeps of notifications, opening the phone, and seeing religious image on the home screen, calls us to you take a moment to be look to the Spirit of God, to root ourselves in the presence of God, to meditate, to pray, to look for where the drawing of the Spirit, before we look at the email or notification.
The beauty of this practice, whether a physical cross in the pocket or an image on our cell-phone, is that it only a second. It's strength, however, is found in training ourselves to be open to God's Spirit. In the midst of a hectic world it bares the constant reminder to step out of a life in which we are be distracted and consumed by the things of the world, and into a life in which we consciously open ourselves, single heartedly, to the things of God. Furthermore, born out over time, this practice equips us to not be 'distracted by many things', as we find ourselves being able to focus on 'the greater thing' for longer periods of time.
Thursday, 14 May 2015
Week # 10: Meditate on Scripture
It is easy to think that reading the Bible is a fairly strait forward practice. Open the book. Read the words. Close the book. It's that simple, right? In reality, reading the words of scripture is a lot more involved. Reading scripture is not like reading any other book. We read scripture as a spiritual discipline - a devotional act in which we live out our longing for God in our lives. Psalm 1 declares that the blessed of God are those who 'delight in the law of The Lord, and on his law they meditates day and night.' Similarly, Psalm 119 is an extended meditation on God's word. We simply cannot deny our calling to live to a life of continual immersion in the word of God.
The term meditation can be confusing word in our time and culture, particularly because of the ways meditation is treated in other religious contexts. We must realize, however, that Christian meditation differs from the more 'eastern' understanding. Christian meditation is not an act of emptying - it is an act of filling. We do not attempt to jettison ourselves of everything we are, rather we engage in the activity of filling our lives - our minds, hearts, and souls - with the things of God. Richard Foster writes that 'Christian meditation, very simply, is the ability to hear God's voice and obey his word' Thus the call to meditate on the God's word day and night is, at its heart, the call to listen to God's words. For the psalmist, the law's of God were not just the dry commands as written in the Torah - they were the voice of God detailing how to live in covenant relationship. The words of God are to be listened to as an act of faith and love.
So how do we meditate in the way that the Bible instructs us to? A cursory look on the internet will uncover many different systems and styles to choose from. The most famous way to meditate on Scripture is what is known as 'Sacred Reading' or Lectio Divina. This practice occurs in four distinct movements.
The first movement is to read a passage slowly and thoughtfully. Importantly it should be a chunk of scripture - not just our favourite verse. Importantly our attitude is not to simply read the words of the text, but to listen to God's voice as He speaks. We imagine God speaking to us through the words of scripture. In this movement we listen for a word or phrase that jumps out at us. This isn't about understanding or definition. We seek not to 'study' anything. We simply remain open to whatever in the reading seems to grab our attention.
The second movement is to read the passage again, this time focusing on how the reading touches our personal lives. Instead of the question 'what strikes you in the reading' we ask ourselves 'what is Jesus saying to me?' We don't force this, or rush past it, for our desire is to interact with God's voice in a very personal way. This may mean we may have to sit in silence for a while until we hear the text 'speak' to us personally. That's ok. Time we spend in this movement is never wasted.
The third movement calls us to ponder what this reading calls us to. There is a sense of prayer here. We offer ourselves to God in response to what we hear God speak to us. We can understand this as a pondering of the question: 'what does Jesus want us to do?' We allow the words of God that we have read and listened to, to touch us and change. We amend our lives in response to what was spoken to us and sit with the practical implications of God's words. We seek to be formed by the words of scripture, and the voice of God spoken into our lives.
The last step in meditating on scripture is to to sit with it. We carry the words of scripture with us throughout the rest of our day. In his 'Introduction to the Holy Life'; Saint Francis De Sales instructs us to 'carry our spiritual bouquet' Just as the fragrance of a bouquet of flowers fills a room, we allow the God's word, listened to and reflected upon, to linger in all areas of our life. Importantly, this is not a conscious pondering of the scriptures. There is no intentionally mindful reflections that takes place. We merely rise from our time of meditating on God's word, and carry God's voice with us as we enter into the rest of the day. We proceed with our tasks of life attempting to be open to God's voice, still living and active.
Meditation on God's word is essential to the discipline of Simplicity because it is only through opening ourselves to God's voice that we can truly say we seek first the kingdom of God. What is more, as Psalm 1 so vividly images, this desire for God's word to be spoken personally into our lives, and the cultivation of it, is to be a continuous habit of our lives. We are called to meditate on God's word 'day and night'. The person in blessed relationship with God is imaged as a stalwart tree, one who is continually and constantly feeding from the ever-flowing streams of water. So too, we are called to the devotional act of sitting with, listening to, and living out God's word in our lives. It simply is a practice and an habit that we cannot deny.
The term meditation can be confusing word in our time and culture, particularly because of the ways meditation is treated in other religious contexts. We must realize, however, that Christian meditation differs from the more 'eastern' understanding. Christian meditation is not an act of emptying - it is an act of filling. We do not attempt to jettison ourselves of everything we are, rather we engage in the activity of filling our lives - our minds, hearts, and souls - with the things of God. Richard Foster writes that 'Christian meditation, very simply, is the ability to hear God's voice and obey his word' Thus the call to meditate on the God's word day and night is, at its heart, the call to listen to God's words. For the psalmist, the law's of God were not just the dry commands as written in the Torah - they were the voice of God detailing how to live in covenant relationship. The words of God are to be listened to as an act of faith and love.
So how do we meditate in the way that the Bible instructs us to? A cursory look on the internet will uncover many different systems and styles to choose from. The most famous way to meditate on Scripture is what is known as 'Sacred Reading' or Lectio Divina. This practice occurs in four distinct movements.
The first movement is to read a passage slowly and thoughtfully. Importantly it should be a chunk of scripture - not just our favourite verse. Importantly our attitude is not to simply read the words of the text, but to listen to God's voice as He speaks. We imagine God speaking to us through the words of scripture. In this movement we listen for a word or phrase that jumps out at us. This isn't about understanding or definition. We seek not to 'study' anything. We simply remain open to whatever in the reading seems to grab our attention.
The second movement is to read the passage again, this time focusing on how the reading touches our personal lives. Instead of the question 'what strikes you in the reading' we ask ourselves 'what is Jesus saying to me?' We don't force this, or rush past it, for our desire is to interact with God's voice in a very personal way. This may mean we may have to sit in silence for a while until we hear the text 'speak' to us personally. That's ok. Time we spend in this movement is never wasted.
The third movement calls us to ponder what this reading calls us to. There is a sense of prayer here. We offer ourselves to God in response to what we hear God speak to us. We can understand this as a pondering of the question: 'what does Jesus want us to do?' We allow the words of God that we have read and listened to, to touch us and change. We amend our lives in response to what was spoken to us and sit with the practical implications of God's words. We seek to be formed by the words of scripture, and the voice of God spoken into our lives.
The last step in meditating on scripture is to to sit with it. We carry the words of scripture with us throughout the rest of our day. In his 'Introduction to the Holy Life'; Saint Francis De Sales instructs us to 'carry our spiritual bouquet' Just as the fragrance of a bouquet of flowers fills a room, we allow the God's word, listened to and reflected upon, to linger in all areas of our life. Importantly, this is not a conscious pondering of the scriptures. There is no intentionally mindful reflections that takes place. We merely rise from our time of meditating on God's word, and carry God's voice with us as we enter into the rest of the day. We proceed with our tasks of life attempting to be open to God's voice, still living and active.
Meditation on God's word is essential to the discipline of Simplicity because it is only through opening ourselves to God's voice that we can truly say we seek first the kingdom of God. What is more, as Psalm 1 so vividly images, this desire for God's word to be spoken personally into our lives, and the cultivation of it, is to be a continuous habit of our lives. We are called to meditate on God's word 'day and night'. The person in blessed relationship with God is imaged as a stalwart tree, one who is continually and constantly feeding from the ever-flowing streams of water. So too, we are called to the devotional act of sitting with, listening to, and living out God's word in our lives. It simply is a practice and an habit that we cannot deny.
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