Wrapping up last week’s conversation on food and spirituality here is a story of a little ritual my wife and I have.
Every Saturday when Humphrey works in our garden, we have lunch together. That’s just something we do. I remember, growing up, our maid and garden worker had their own “special” cutlery and their own “special” place where they ate their meals. This always bothered me. My wife, El, had a similar experience a child.
So now we try to do it differently. Humphrey and Martha eat and drink out of the same cutlery as we do.
Two Saturdays ago we sat down for our weekly lunch. Boerewors, pap and beer, your average South African cuisine is just the right medicine to build cultural bridges, while recharging for the next hour or two of weed pulling and grass cutting.
We talked about the garden, our home towns, beer, shebeens and local soccer. Afterwards Humphrey went back to his work in the garden, El disappeared into her art room and I got behind my computer to do some Saturday writing.
When the day was done I got ready to take Humphrey back to his house in the squatter camp. We were ready to go, both of us in the Landy, when Humphrey suddenly got out and ran into the house. Few minutes later he came back smiling and we left.
Afterwards El told me what happened. Humphrey went back in the house and told her the following:
“I wish you more days.”
At first she did not understand what he was trying to say, so she asked him to explain.
“I wish God will give you more days because you have been so kind to me.”
Humphrey was giving us a blessing, a prayer of some sort. It was his way of saying thanks.
I think it is safe to say that last Saturday was a Kingdom Come moment. Every time I experience a moment like that, it makes me (doubtfully) believe that, like Jesus, we can change the world.
It’s as simple and difficult as having lunch with the person working in your garden.
Monday, 29 June 2009
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Day 53
Back in high school, I had a friend who was Jewish. Whenever we had a conversation about food, he would say: “You are what you eat. If you eat pig, that’s exactly what you are. ” Back then, I thought he was just being Jewish, but now I tend to agree, but with a twist.
"If you eat like a pig, that's exaclty what you are."
The way you go about food says a lot about you as a human being.
Jesus was once in conversation with the Church leaders of his day. The topic: The holiness of eating. Jesus made a very good argument that it is not what goes into your mouth that determines your holiness, but rather what goes out of your mouth. The point being that the criteria for one’s Faith is to be found in the way we treat other people. Our words are far more toxic than food gone bad.
This is still true today.
But I think that if Jesus lived today, in a world with extreme gluttony in the one hand and extreme hunger in the other, his argument would have been slightly different.
The problem Jesus had with the church leaders was that they were missing the point about holiness and food. The first intention with the food regulations found in Scripture was HEALTH. When a group of people coming out of slavery wander off into the desert, they need to find a common set of health regulations that can keep them safe and healthy. But somewhere down the line, as this group of people moved from desert to city, from poverty to wealth, the health code turned into a holiness code. It moved from common sense to superstitious religiosity.
By the time Jesus arrived on the scene that first intention was long forgotten. Jesus tried to bring them back to the ancient common sense truth(s) of Scripture.
He’ll do the same today.
The only difference is that our battle is not with moralistic religion, but rather with modernistic greed.
We are eating ourselves to death.
But not just ourselves, also others. The more we selfishly consume, the more others will die. Think of an old school scale. The more you stack on one side, the more unbalance the whole thing becomes. Or think of a seesaw, the fatter the child on the one end, the less fun it is for the skinny one at other end.
We need to spread the butter better, more evenly, into all the little corners.
At this stage of time the butter is one big knob smack bang in the middle of the slice of toast.
"If you eat like a pig, that's exaclty what you are."
The way you go about food says a lot about you as a human being.
Jesus was once in conversation with the Church leaders of his day. The topic: The holiness of eating. Jesus made a very good argument that it is not what goes into your mouth that determines your holiness, but rather what goes out of your mouth. The point being that the criteria for one’s Faith is to be found in the way we treat other people. Our words are far more toxic than food gone bad.
This is still true today.
But I think that if Jesus lived today, in a world with extreme gluttony in the one hand and extreme hunger in the other, his argument would have been slightly different.
The problem Jesus had with the church leaders was that they were missing the point about holiness and food. The first intention with the food regulations found in Scripture was HEALTH. When a group of people coming out of slavery wander off into the desert, they need to find a common set of health regulations that can keep them safe and healthy. But somewhere down the line, as this group of people moved from desert to city, from poverty to wealth, the health code turned into a holiness code. It moved from common sense to superstitious religiosity.
By the time Jesus arrived on the scene that first intention was long forgotten. Jesus tried to bring them back to the ancient common sense truth(s) of Scripture.
He’ll do the same today.
The only difference is that our battle is not with moralistic religion, but rather with modernistic greed.
We are eating ourselves to death.
But not just ourselves, also others. The more we selfishly consume, the more others will die. Think of an old school scale. The more you stack on one side, the more unbalance the whole thing becomes. Or think of a seesaw, the fatter the child on the one end, the less fun it is for the skinny one at other end.
We need to spread the butter better, more evenly, into all the little corners.
At this stage of time the butter is one big knob smack bang in the middle of the slice of toast.
Friday, 26 June 2009
Day 52
One of the first prayers I was taught as kid was a prayer to say grace at the table. Part of it was to ask God to be with “those less fortunate” while we are being blessed with lots to eat.
The prayer stuck.
It got under my skin and I never seemed able to shake it off. Every meal, no matter how simple of decadent the contradiction or that prayer keeps coming back. While may plate is full, others’ has been empty for days.
That’s the problem with talking about eating while living in Africa. Too many people struggling, too many hungry, too many dying while the rest of us are queuing up for seconds.
The same contradiction is found in the life of Jesus. One of the first stories told of his colourful life, involves a wedding and 2400 glasses of award winning wine.
It’s a story overflowing with abundance and decadence.
But just as quickly as he turns water into wine for the young and hopeful, so does he feed the crowds of hungry people drawn to his message of Good News.
The one night he parties with a mafia boss, the next day he asks a rich man to sell all of his possessions, give the money to the poor and follow the signposts of the Kingdom of God.
The Way of Jesus:
A blessing and a burden
An invitation to feast and a call to follow
A prayer of a young boy at a dinner table asking God to be with the less fortunate...
The prayer stuck.
It got under my skin and I never seemed able to shake it off. Every meal, no matter how simple of decadent the contradiction or that prayer keeps coming back. While may plate is full, others’ has been empty for days.
That’s the problem with talking about eating while living in Africa. Too many people struggling, too many hungry, too many dying while the rest of us are queuing up for seconds.
The same contradiction is found in the life of Jesus. One of the first stories told of his colourful life, involves a wedding and 2400 glasses of award winning wine.
It’s a story overflowing with abundance and decadence.
But just as quickly as he turns water into wine for the young and hopeful, so does he feed the crowds of hungry people drawn to his message of Good News.
The one night he parties with a mafia boss, the next day he asks a rich man to sell all of his possessions, give the money to the poor and follow the signposts of the Kingdom of God.
The Way of Jesus:
A blessing and a burden
An invitation to feast and a call to follow
A prayer of a young boy at a dinner table asking God to be with the less fortunate...
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Day 50
There is a movement all over the world called “Slow”. The dream behind it is to encourage people to take it easy, to slow down their crazy busy lifestyles and start living life. When it comes to “slow food”, this movement is all about good, hearty, delicious dishes prepared with patience and love.
To eat is not just to get your tummy full.
No it’s an expression of our authentic humanness.
To eat is to celebrate life. To eat is to invite friends over. To eat is to entertain the senses. To eat is to love.
There is a beautiful story of two sisters who invited Jesus and his friends over for dinner. The one was all over the place preparing the food, running up and down, counting the guests, setting the table and working herself into a frenzy. All the while the other one sat at the Jesus’ feet listening to all his stories. No point in mentioning that the one sister eventually got fed up with doing all the work while the other enjoys the luxury of Jesus’ company.
At one point she told Jesus (her guest) to tell her sister to start getting her hands dirty and do some work.
Jesus did the opposite.
He told the busy one to be more like the “lazy” one. Slow down. Relax. Having friends over for dinner should be a joyous, festive occasion with lots of talking, laughing, relaxing and every odd now and then also eating.
Back in the Cape where my wife I lived our whole lives before moving into the fast lane up here in Johannesburg, we were part of a group of friends called “The Saints”. Almost every Sunday we will get together and eat, drink, talk, laugh and sometimes even cry till late at night. Imagine starting every Monday tired from the little sleep of the previous night, but feeling energized to the brim because of a slow evening with good friends and great food.
With this group of friends I learnt that, just like good food and great wine needs patience and time, so do real, life changing friendships.
The next time you have a date with a friend, even if only for a quick coffee over tea break, put off your phone, order a piece of Milk Tart with your cuppachino, stop worrying about work, focus on your friend and just listen. The five minutes you’ll be late for work, won’t be noticed (you’re not THAT important...), but it might change your friendship for good.
Enjoy your tea break.
To eat is not just to get your tummy full.
No it’s an expression of our authentic humanness.
To eat is to celebrate life. To eat is to invite friends over. To eat is to entertain the senses. To eat is to love.
There is a beautiful story of two sisters who invited Jesus and his friends over for dinner. The one was all over the place preparing the food, running up and down, counting the guests, setting the table and working herself into a frenzy. All the while the other one sat at the Jesus’ feet listening to all his stories. No point in mentioning that the one sister eventually got fed up with doing all the work while the other enjoys the luxury of Jesus’ company.
At one point she told Jesus (her guest) to tell her sister to start getting her hands dirty and do some work.
Jesus did the opposite.
He told the busy one to be more like the “lazy” one. Slow down. Relax. Having friends over for dinner should be a joyous, festive occasion with lots of talking, laughing, relaxing and every odd now and then also eating.
Back in the Cape where my wife I lived our whole lives before moving into the fast lane up here in Johannesburg, we were part of a group of friends called “The Saints”. Almost every Sunday we will get together and eat, drink, talk, laugh and sometimes even cry till late at night. Imagine starting every Monday tired from the little sleep of the previous night, but feeling energized to the brim because of a slow evening with good friends and great food.
With this group of friends I learnt that, just like good food and great wine needs patience and time, so do real, life changing friendships.
The next time you have a date with a friend, even if only for a quick coffee over tea break, put off your phone, order a piece of Milk Tart with your cuppachino, stop worrying about work, focus on your friend and just listen. The five minutes you’ll be late for work, won’t be noticed (you’re not THAT important...), but it might change your friendship for good.
Enjoy your tea break.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
Day 49
A few months ago I started my own little worm farm. It is based on one of those systems where the worms turn your plate scrapings into compost. Great stuff, now I don’t throw my food recklessly into the dustbin anymore, instead I give it back to Mother Earth, who in turn gives it back to me through my own little vegetable garden.
Full circle, nice.
But on the other hand I have been confronted with my own gluttony.
Since the worm farm, I came to realise how many food we buy, but never use and how many food we prepare, but never eat.
I have a book on my bookshelf titled Stuffed and Starved, written by Raj Patel. (Check out his blog by clicking on the picture of his book.) One of the main themes the book touches on is the fact that we live in a time where the production of food is the highest than ever before, but sadly so are the number of people dying from hunger. Never before in the history of mankind have there been so many plates of food available, yet so many people dying because of a lack thereof.
In Jesus’ day the big question was what did you eat and with whom did eat. Jesus came and flipped these two questions upside down by directing them towards a way of life that’s Good News to the poor and vulnerable.
I think Jesus is still doing the same thing today.
But this time with the help of a few extra questions concerning the food we eat:
Do you eat just enough?
Do you know where the food you eat come from?
Do you know what’s in the food you eat?
What’s the cost for going cheap?
What’s the price you pay for going bulk?
What oppressive, unbalanced, profit seeking system do you keep intact with the food you buy?
Was it prepared in haste or with love?
In our back yard we have a little vegetable garden. Yesterday we harvested our first little crop of peas. (A hand full to be exact...) There is something holy about preparing and eating your own peas, beans, brinjals and beetroot.
One of the great things about having your own little garden is the power of knowing that you are not entirely depended on the big names to provide you with food.
A friend of mine lives in Mozambique. He is running a programme that helps families struggling with poverty and sickness due to the AIDS pandemic, to start up their own little gardens that can provide them (and their neighbours) with enough healthy food to live a decent and wholesome life.
Another friend of mine is dreaming of garden tunnels that will provide entire neighbourhoods of people living in poverty with nutritious fruits and vegetables.
On the other side of the world Mr and Mrs. Obama are eating out of their own “little” organic White House Vegetable Garden.
And back home while the big ships loaded with vegetables full of chemicals to keep it nice and tight are docking at the harbour, my little patch of Life, not bigger than the size of your average kitchen, is slowly surviving the winter with peas and Broad Beans, but just wait and see till summer comes.
Enjoy your for lunch.
Full circle, nice.
But on the other hand I have been confronted with my own gluttony.
Since the worm farm, I came to realise how many food we buy, but never use and how many food we prepare, but never eat.
I have a book on my bookshelf titled Stuffed and Starved, written by Raj Patel. (Check out his blog by clicking on the picture of his book.) One of the main themes the book touches on is the fact that we live in a time where the production of food is the highest than ever before, but sadly so are the number of people dying from hunger. Never before in the history of mankind have there been so many plates of food available, yet so many people dying because of a lack thereof.
In Jesus’ day the big question was what did you eat and with whom did eat. Jesus came and flipped these two questions upside down by directing them towards a way of life that’s Good News to the poor and vulnerable.
I think Jesus is still doing the same thing today.
But this time with the help of a few extra questions concerning the food we eat:
Do you eat just enough?
Do you know where the food you eat come from?
Do you know what’s in the food you eat?
What’s the cost for going cheap?
What’s the price you pay for going bulk?
What oppressive, unbalanced, profit seeking system do you keep intact with the food you buy?
Was it prepared in haste or with love?
In our back yard we have a little vegetable garden. Yesterday we harvested our first little crop of peas. (A hand full to be exact...) There is something holy about preparing and eating your own peas, beans, brinjals and beetroot.
One of the great things about having your own little garden is the power of knowing that you are not entirely depended on the big names to provide you with food.
A friend of mine lives in Mozambique. He is running a programme that helps families struggling with poverty and sickness due to the AIDS pandemic, to start up their own little gardens that can provide them (and their neighbours) with enough healthy food to live a decent and wholesome life.
Another friend of mine is dreaming of garden tunnels that will provide entire neighbourhoods of people living in poverty with nutritious fruits and vegetables.
On the other side of the world Mr and Mrs. Obama are eating out of their own “little” organic White House Vegetable Garden.
And back home while the big ships loaded with vegetables full of chemicals to keep it nice and tight are docking at the harbour, my little patch of Life, not bigger than the size of your average kitchen, is slowly surviving the winter with peas and Broad Beans, but just wait and see till summer comes.
Enjoy your for lunch.
Monday, 22 June 2009
Day 48
When Jesus ate, he usually broke all the rules of etiquette.
Back in his day eating together was a big thing.
First off, you only ate with your kind of people. Like if you were a Jew, you never shared a meal with a Roman, Greek, Arab, Samaritan or an African.
If you were a religious Jew, you never ate with anyone who had the label “sinner” around his or her neck. The list included drunkards, divorced women, gays, prostitutes, murderers, tax collectors, Romans, Greeks and especially Samaritans.
If you were a religious, educated, high profile Jew, like a Rabbi for instance, you never shared a meal with people from a lower social standard. The list included woman in general, children, fisherman, farm workers, servants, slaves and everyone who will fall under the category of being poor and vulnerable.
What you ate and with whom you ate determent almost everything about you as a religious human being.
But like I said earlier, Jesus was not your everyday religious type.
He loved a good party. All he needed was bread and wine and if he could not find any wine, water would have been just fine.
The guest list usually got him into a lot of trouble with his fellow Rabbis and other co-workers. Once he had a huge party with the local Mafia boss and his friends. Another time he stayed for days in a Samaritan village, called Sigar, having a ball of a time. There is also the story of a woman with dodgy sexual reputation crashing a very boring party Jesus was attending, just to have a dance or two with Big J.
But just when you think that Jesus was just another party animal, you’ll find a golden thread running through every party and every meal Jesus shared with people.
Wherever he ate, the lives of the people who ate with him, changed for good.
The Mafia boss turned his life around with a promise to pay back double, even triple to everyone he ever stole from. After Jesus left Sigar, the whole town became part of the Jesus revolution. And it is told of the party crasher, that she was one of the few people who stayed at foot of the cross until the end.
No wonder Jesus told one of the townspeople of Sigar that if she drank the Living Water he usually brings to a party, she’ll never go thirsty again...
Back in his day eating together was a big thing.
First off, you only ate with your kind of people. Like if you were a Jew, you never shared a meal with a Roman, Greek, Arab, Samaritan or an African.
If you were a religious Jew, you never ate with anyone who had the label “sinner” around his or her neck. The list included drunkards, divorced women, gays, prostitutes, murderers, tax collectors, Romans, Greeks and especially Samaritans.
If you were a religious, educated, high profile Jew, like a Rabbi for instance, you never shared a meal with people from a lower social standard. The list included woman in general, children, fisherman, farm workers, servants, slaves and everyone who will fall under the category of being poor and vulnerable.
What you ate and with whom you ate determent almost everything about you as a religious human being.
But like I said earlier, Jesus was not your everyday religious type.
He loved a good party. All he needed was bread and wine and if he could not find any wine, water would have been just fine.
The guest list usually got him into a lot of trouble with his fellow Rabbis and other co-workers. Once he had a huge party with the local Mafia boss and his friends. Another time he stayed for days in a Samaritan village, called Sigar, having a ball of a time. There is also the story of a woman with dodgy sexual reputation crashing a very boring party Jesus was attending, just to have a dance or two with Big J.
But just when you think that Jesus was just another party animal, you’ll find a golden thread running through every party and every meal Jesus shared with people.
Wherever he ate, the lives of the people who ate with him, changed for good.
The Mafia boss turned his life around with a promise to pay back double, even triple to everyone he ever stole from. After Jesus left Sigar, the whole town became part of the Jesus revolution. And it is told of the party crasher, that she was one of the few people who stayed at foot of the cross until the end.
No wonder Jesus told one of the townspeople of Sigar that if she drank the Living Water he usually brings to a party, she’ll never go thirsty again...
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Day 47
The book on my bedside table is called Eat, Pray, Love. My wife is reading it.
What a title!
Eat
Pray
Love
What more can you add to life? Anything else seems overkill.
Take Jesus for instance and the stories his friends told about him.
He ate. He prayed. He loved.
Then he called his friends to do the same.
The past week we strolled around the theme of prayer, silence and solitude. This week we’ll talk about eating.
I hope all of you are hungry...
What a title!
Eat
Pray
Love
What more can you add to life? Anything else seems overkill.
Take Jesus for instance and the stories his friends told about him.
He ate. He prayed. He loved.
Then he called his friends to do the same.
The past week we strolled around the theme of prayer, silence and solitude. This week we’ll talk about eating.
I hope all of you are hungry...
Saturday, 20 June 2009
Day 46
I am away for the weekend with a few friends.
Out on a farm, into the wild.
Horse riding, flyfishing, mountain biking and your general weekend lazyness.
Enough beer and wine to keep the spirits high.
Good food, tons of humour, loads of fun.
Life.
It’s waiting outside your closet.
Say your prayers.
Finish your Amens.
Then go out and grab it.
Out on a farm, into the wild.
Horse riding, flyfishing, mountain biking and your general weekend lazyness.
Enough beer and wine to keep the spirits high.
Good food, tons of humour, loads of fun.
Life.
It’s waiting outside your closet.
Say your prayers.
Finish your Amens.
Then go out and grab it.
Friday, 19 June 2009
Day 45
A prayer that stays in the closet dies in the closet. Eventually we have to get up off our knees, come down from the mountain, climb out of the closet and direct our thoughts and prayers towards Life.
Jesus did this all the time.
There’s this great story of Jesus, Peter, John and James taking a break from everyday life and retreating into the solitude of Mount Olive.
While up there, they had a deeply spiritual and mysterious moment with God. It was one of those Life-validating moments we all long for when we pray. God saying out loud that he is especially proud of Jesus.
If I had a closet-connection like that, I’ll convert my closet into a little shrine and God knows I’ll never come out. Peter suggested something similar; he wanted the moment to last for generations to come.
His plan was to build three huts.
What on earth?
I guess it is suppose to be a metaphor for the new religion Peter thought Jesus would begin.
But Jesus did not fall for it, because he wasn’t the religious type.
Religion turns prayer into the end of the journey, a destination of some sort.
Jesus calls us down from the mountain back into life again, because whatever happens in the closet must come to life among the living.
If not, all we’ll have to show for our effort to pray are three empty huts.
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Day 44
A friend gave me the following words on silence. I don’t know who wrote it, but here’s how it goes:
“How is it possible to reach inner silence? Sometimes we are apparently silent and yet we have great discussions within, struggling with imaginary partners or with ourselves. Calming our souls requires a kind of simplicity. Silence means recognising that my worries can’t do much. Silence means leaving to God what is beyond my reach and capacity. A moment of silence, even very short, is like a holy stop, a sabbatical rest, a truce of worries.”
The writer of these words went on to tell the story of Jesus and his friends, out at sea, caught in the middle of a heavy storm. Waves crashing, the boat tipping, water pouring in over the sides, Jesus sleeping and his friends seeing images of life flashing in front of their eyes.
But then Jesus spoke and silence followed...
Whatever is going on that troubles your soul and keeps you from (re)connecting with the Silent Peaceful One, when Jesus speaks, a great calm follows.
“How is it possible to reach inner silence? Sometimes we are apparently silent and yet we have great discussions within, struggling with imaginary partners or with ourselves. Calming our souls requires a kind of simplicity. Silence means recognising that my worries can’t do much. Silence means leaving to God what is beyond my reach and capacity. A moment of silence, even very short, is like a holy stop, a sabbatical rest, a truce of worries.”
The writer of these words went on to tell the story of Jesus and his friends, out at sea, caught in the middle of a heavy storm. Waves crashing, the boat tipping, water pouring in over the sides, Jesus sleeping and his friends seeing images of life flashing in front of their eyes.
But then Jesus spoke and silence followed...
Whatever is going on that troubles your soul and keeps you from (re)connecting with the Silent Peaceful One, when Jesus speaks, a great calm follows.
Wednesday, 17 June 2009
Day 43
To go into the closet is a lonely activity. There is usually just enough space for one person. You are bound to hear your own breathing, feel the itchiness of your own skin, hear the sounds your stomach makes when all is quiet and still, face yourself, confront your demons and end up with nothing but the emptiness of the God-shaped gap inside your soul.
Most of the time we do our best to avoid situations like this.
Cause loneliness is never nice.
That’s why the radio is on the whole day; the TV entertains even when no one’s around and our lives are filled to the brim with appointments, meetings, tasks, images, ideas, sounds, voices and words.
But deep, honest, life changing prayer needs silence.
To pray is to be utterly quiet and to do that we need to move from our fear of being lonely towards a state of being where we can embrace our lonely selves.
The word is solitude.
The Old Monks understood this; the Ancient Desert Fathers lived it and the Old Prophets like John and Jesus perfected it into an art form.
In the stories told by the friends of Jesus, we encounter a man who’s not afraid of being lonely.
Before or after every big event or task, he retreats into the wilderness. One time he even stayed there for 40 days, confronted by his Shadow, challenged by his Temptations, weakened by his Humanness and in the end cared for by the Angels of the Living One.
In the closet you learn to reserve the God-shaped gap for God, even if it stays empty for a long time. It’s that place in your life where solitude takes the place of loneliness, a sacred space where
Fear can grow into Love.
According to a priest called Henry Nouwen, a storyteller called Matthew and a Prophet called Jesus, this is the first baby step towards a life of prayer:
Learning to love yourself.
So here is the challenge:
Find your closet. Go there often. Become utterly quite. Don’t talk. Don’t pray. Just listen.
Most of the time we do our best to avoid situations like this.
Cause loneliness is never nice.
That’s why the radio is on the whole day; the TV entertains even when no one’s around and our lives are filled to the brim with appointments, meetings, tasks, images, ideas, sounds, voices and words.
But deep, honest, life changing prayer needs silence.
To pray is to be utterly quiet and to do that we need to move from our fear of being lonely towards a state of being where we can embrace our lonely selves.
The word is solitude.
The Old Monks understood this; the Ancient Desert Fathers lived it and the Old Prophets like John and Jesus perfected it into an art form.
In the stories told by the friends of Jesus, we encounter a man who’s not afraid of being lonely.
Before or after every big event or task, he retreats into the wilderness. One time he even stayed there for 40 days, confronted by his Shadow, challenged by his Temptations, weakened by his Humanness and in the end cared for by the Angels of the Living One.
In the closet you learn to reserve the God-shaped gap for God, even if it stays empty for a long time. It’s that place in your life where solitude takes the place of loneliness, a sacred space where
Fear can grow into Love.
According to a priest called Henry Nouwen, a storyteller called Matthew and a Prophet called Jesus, this is the first baby step towards a life of prayer:
Learning to love yourself.
So here is the challenge:
Find your closet. Go there often. Become utterly quite. Don’t talk. Don’t pray. Just listen.
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
Day 42
Jesus and his friends were having a discussion on prayer.
“The next time you try to pray, go into your closet.” Jesus told the rest.
“Go into your closet” I guess was Jerusalem slang for taking a time out. To go into your closet means to break away from the mundane, to escape your daily routine, to chill out on your own.
Your closet is your safe space, the place (physical or emotional) where you feel completely at ease. It can be anything: A favourite sofa in a sunny corner of the house, the back porch, underneath the big tree next to the compost heap, in the garage, knee deep in a trout river, a coffee spot close to work, the sauna of the gym or even the closet in the guestroom.
Mine is the kitchen. This is where I write, think, create, eat and love. From now on I’ll try to pray here as well.
But if you think of it, if prayer is the soul’s yearning to be in conversation with God, then to do this we need to slow down, we need to stop the craziness of life and retreat to our safe spaces.
There’s this great story of an ancient prophet who felt all the stress of being the voice of God in everyday life. In a cave, close to burn out, God spoke to him. Here's what happened according to an ancient story guru:
“A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn't to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn't in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn't in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.” 1 Kings 19
When I am honest about my struggle with prayer I need to confess that I’ve been waiting for the winds, earthquakes and fires of life to be the voices of God in my own life. On yesterdays post, Harold made a comment about expectations and prayer. He hit the nail right on the head. I was expecting a voice that can shout over and above the loudness of (my) life.
But then God comes and speaks with a gentle and quite whisper.
No wonder I need to go into the closet.
“The next time you try to pray, go into your closet.” Jesus told the rest.
“Go into your closet” I guess was Jerusalem slang for taking a time out. To go into your closet means to break away from the mundane, to escape your daily routine, to chill out on your own.
Your closet is your safe space, the place (physical or emotional) where you feel completely at ease. It can be anything: A favourite sofa in a sunny corner of the house, the back porch, underneath the big tree next to the compost heap, in the garage, knee deep in a trout river, a coffee spot close to work, the sauna of the gym or even the closet in the guestroom.
Mine is the kitchen. This is where I write, think, create, eat and love. From now on I’ll try to pray here as well.
But if you think of it, if prayer is the soul’s yearning to be in conversation with God, then to do this we need to slow down, we need to stop the craziness of life and retreat to our safe spaces.
There’s this great story of an ancient prophet who felt all the stress of being the voice of God in everyday life. In a cave, close to burn out, God spoke to him. Here's what happened according to an ancient story guru:
“A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn't to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn't in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn't in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.” 1 Kings 19
When I am honest about my struggle with prayer I need to confess that I’ve been waiting for the winds, earthquakes and fires of life to be the voices of God in my own life. On yesterdays post, Harold made a comment about expectations and prayer. He hit the nail right on the head. I was expecting a voice that can shout over and above the loudness of (my) life.
But then God comes and speaks with a gentle and quite whisper.
No wonder I need to go into the closet.
Monday, 15 June 2009
Day 41
Let’s talk about prayer.
First a confession:
I don’t pray. (When I write it down like that, it really does not look good.)
But let me explain. I find it very difficult. I feel self-conscious when I pray. My doubts quickly get in the way. Half way in the prayer I start to question the images about God popping up. I think I need a good pop-up blocker the next time I try. When I pray my mind wanders and before I know it, I am busy buying groceries, writing my next post, thinking of the dogs, planting vegetables or planning our next holiday, all the while my brain switched to autopilot prayer mode.
Still there is a longing in me to pray.
This longing is not new. One of the old thinkers in the Christian faith said that our hearts are restless until we find our rest in God. He talked about a God-shaped gap that we drag along in life. God created us in such a way that we can’t help yearning for God.
I am not alone on this journey. I know there are others out there who struggle with prayer, but yearn for God.
That's why I am going to stick around this theme for a while, hoping (praying...) that a restless heart (and mind) will find peace.
First a confession:
I don’t pray. (When I write it down like that, it really does not look good.)
But let me explain. I find it very difficult. I feel self-conscious when I pray. My doubts quickly get in the way. Half way in the prayer I start to question the images about God popping up. I think I need a good pop-up blocker the next time I try. When I pray my mind wanders and before I know it, I am busy buying groceries, writing my next post, thinking of the dogs, planting vegetables or planning our next holiday, all the while my brain switched to autopilot prayer mode.
Still there is a longing in me to pray.
This longing is not new. One of the old thinkers in the Christian faith said that our hearts are restless until we find our rest in God. He talked about a God-shaped gap that we drag along in life. God created us in such a way that we can’t help yearning for God.
I am not alone on this journey. I know there are others out there who struggle with prayer, but yearn for God.
That's why I am going to stick around this theme for a while, hoping (praying...) that a restless heart (and mind) will find peace.
Sunday, 14 June 2009
Day 40
It’s been 40 days since this journey started.
40 is such a Biblical number.
Noah spent 40 days feeling seasick.
Moses and friends travelled 40 years on a journey that should have taken them less than a month.
Jesus wandered off into the wild for 40 days, occasionally running into an old acquaintance, the Devil.
40 days.
It started as a desperate cry in search of the Real Makoya, from there I took a detour towards the junkyard, carrying a box religious junk, only to discover (with the help of new found friends like Sparky, Beer, Karen, Keith, AlexS, Simple Soul, Pierre, Elliot and a few others) that I should rather build a compost heap and allow the shit to turn into life giving compost.
So as the year subtly slipped from autumn to winter and the garden of my soul slowly turned to shades of gray, the smell of religion decomposing has already settled underneath the surface of my compost heap.
The next 40 days I plan to take it easy, go slow, rest, dig deep and prepare the soil of my spirituality for the hope of New Life waiting in spring.
Stay tuned.
40 is such a Biblical number.
Noah spent 40 days feeling seasick.
Moses and friends travelled 40 years on a journey that should have taken them less than a month.
Jesus wandered off into the wild for 40 days, occasionally running into an old acquaintance, the Devil.
40 days.
It started as a desperate cry in search of the Real Makoya, from there I took a detour towards the junkyard, carrying a box religious junk, only to discover (with the help of new found friends like Sparky, Beer, Karen, Keith, AlexS, Simple Soul, Pierre, Elliot and a few others) that I should rather build a compost heap and allow the shit to turn into life giving compost.
So as the year subtly slipped from autumn to winter and the garden of my soul slowly turned to shades of gray, the smell of religion decomposing has already settled underneath the surface of my compost heap.
The next 40 days I plan to take it easy, go slow, rest, dig deep and prepare the soil of my spirituality for the hope of New Life waiting in spring.
Stay tuned.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
Day 39
Just your average Saturday post:
One of the oldest virtues in the Way of Jesus is hospitality. The ancient children of God believed that by treating strangers as old friends, we are welcoming God into our lives.
When we invite the uninvited, Jesus shows up, not as one of the guests, but as the host.
Two friends were walking back to their hometown. They were down and out, they’ve hit rock bottom.
Their Friend was brutally murdered a few days before.
They were upset with themselves for not being there for him, with the rest of the gang for abandoning him, with the religious leaders for missing the point about Life and with the women for saying that their Friend isn’t dead after all.
They talked the whole way, trying to figure out what the hell happened. Suddenly, somewhere between depression and giving up, a Stranger joined them on their journey, asking questions with obvious answers, sounding totally out of touch. This led to heavy theological discussion about the coming Messiah, the stuff the prophets wrote about and the salvation of a nation that’s fed up with the status quo. The Stranger baffled the two with his knowledge of history and theology. They were completely outwitted.
It was almost dark when they reached their hometown, but the Stranger still had a few miles to travel. True to their Ancient Faith, they insisted that he stay the night. He looked reluctant, but the insisted.
At the table they served a modest meal, bread and wine, reminding them of better times. The Stranger did not wait to be served, he took the bread and said the prayer, suddenly they saw, as if for the first time, that the Stranger was their Friend all along.
The great thing about this story is that the “kairos” moment, something the Ancient Greeks understood as a moment in history where the divine meets the ordinary and everything there after will be completely different, happened in the stuff old friends do around a loaf of bread and perhaps a bottle of red.
That is why, through the centuries, the friends of Jesus loved to party. What we know today as Holy Communion, with a piece of bread and a shot of sweet red, would have been very bland, compared to the way the first followers used to remember the good old times with Jesus around a table. The idea was to eat, drink, talk, laugh, joke, dance and have a whole lot of fun, because that’s the best way to celebrate Kingdom Come.
No wonder, when Jesus and his friends were at a wedding, he got a dying party started again with 2400 glasses of award winning wine.
Tonight my wife and I are going to party with some friends. Now the best parties are hard to define, but most of the time it involves music, a table (preferably to dance upon...), good food, perhaps wine and a whole lot of hospitality. The idea is to let people feel at home underneath someone else’s roof.
It’s actually very simple: Safe spaces full of fun and laughter, leads to chemistry and connection, which in turn can lead to strangers becoming good friends.
Ole!
One of the oldest virtues in the Way of Jesus is hospitality. The ancient children of God believed that by treating strangers as old friends, we are welcoming God into our lives.
When we invite the uninvited, Jesus shows up, not as one of the guests, but as the host.
Two friends were walking back to their hometown. They were down and out, they’ve hit rock bottom.
Their Friend was brutally murdered a few days before.
They were upset with themselves for not being there for him, with the rest of the gang for abandoning him, with the religious leaders for missing the point about Life and with the women for saying that their Friend isn’t dead after all.
They talked the whole way, trying to figure out what the hell happened. Suddenly, somewhere between depression and giving up, a Stranger joined them on their journey, asking questions with obvious answers, sounding totally out of touch. This led to heavy theological discussion about the coming Messiah, the stuff the prophets wrote about and the salvation of a nation that’s fed up with the status quo. The Stranger baffled the two with his knowledge of history and theology. They were completely outwitted.
It was almost dark when they reached their hometown, but the Stranger still had a few miles to travel. True to their Ancient Faith, they insisted that he stay the night. He looked reluctant, but the insisted.
At the table they served a modest meal, bread and wine, reminding them of better times. The Stranger did not wait to be served, he took the bread and said the prayer, suddenly they saw, as if for the first time, that the Stranger was their Friend all along.
The great thing about this story is that the “kairos” moment, something the Ancient Greeks understood as a moment in history where the divine meets the ordinary and everything there after will be completely different, happened in the stuff old friends do around a loaf of bread and perhaps a bottle of red.
That is why, through the centuries, the friends of Jesus loved to party. What we know today as Holy Communion, with a piece of bread and a shot of sweet red, would have been very bland, compared to the way the first followers used to remember the good old times with Jesus around a table. The idea was to eat, drink, talk, laugh, joke, dance and have a whole lot of fun, because that’s the best way to celebrate Kingdom Come.
No wonder, when Jesus and his friends were at a wedding, he got a dying party started again with 2400 glasses of award winning wine.
Tonight my wife and I are going to party with some friends. Now the best parties are hard to define, but most of the time it involves music, a table (preferably to dance upon...), good food, perhaps wine and a whole lot of hospitality. The idea is to let people feel at home underneath someone else’s roof.
It’s actually very simple: Safe spaces full of fun and laughter, leads to chemistry and connection, which in turn can lead to strangers becoming good friends.
Ole!
Friday, 12 June 2009
Day 38
A few months ago I threw out boxes full of books, mostly prescribed religious books I bought while studying. Over time I realised that these books are just gathering dust, their content and the content of my life are miles apart. To read it is to stand on one planet and listen to an alien on the other planet babbling on about the meaning of life on your planet.
It’s funny how quickly the world changes from one generation to the other.
I can imagine my grandkids reading this blog, thinking: “What was grandpa up to going on and on about God, Jesus, seasons, junk, boxes, life and related stuff. No wonder grandma looks so old...”
That’s the tricky thing with an ancient text like the Bible. Things did change. The world is not the same anymore. We’ve evolved, although sometimes I am not sure whether it was for the better. Over time the subtleties, the humour, the meaning, the language, the symbols and the metaphors faded into the massive changes the world made since then.
Between us and the text is a gap, so big, wide and deep that very few find the relevancy for their own lives to really try and cross it.
But still the Text had an original intention. A power behind it that changed and influenced a specific community in a specific time and place.
To discover this first intention(s) of the Text, we need to get on the other side.
Why did Paul write to Timothy? What did Luke hope for in telling the story of Jesus to his friend? What did Mark wished would happen to his friends after they read his version of the life, death and (re)life of Jesus? What was the longing behind the dreams of John on the island Patmos?
Behind these stories lie a prayer, a wish, a longing and a hopeful dream. An idea of the Way life can be, waiting to become a flesh and bone reality.
The idea is to keep on reading, keep on listening and keep on bridging the gap until the intention of the story happens with us.
If this does not take place in the lives of the readers of the Text, then it’s just another old book, gathering dust.
Thursday, 11 June 2009
Day 37
A story has more than one way of telling it. That’s just the nature of a good story. That’s also just the nature of good storytellers. You got to keep on telling it, exploring all the different nuances and subtleties until you stumble upon your own unique interpretation. Take the Big Story of the life, death and (re)life of Jesus.
One life.
One death.
One empty tomb.
Four great storytellers.
Four great stories that shaped the history of the world forever. Each with their own unique understanding and interpretation to the significance and meaning of the extraordinary life and teachings of a good friend called Jesus.
Mark was the first, short, bold and straight to the point. It’s Kingdom Come, no time to waste.
Matthew the Jew, dug deep into the treasures of his Ancient past. While taking the scenic route of mysteries and wonders, prophets and poets, he discovered spiritual connections between Jesus and History that blew him away.
Luke, the dream doctor wrote the story to his friend. Together they hoped for a new world that’s Good News to the poor and the vulnerable. In the Way Jesus lived and died and lived again, Luke saw a glimpse of what this new Way should look like.
Somewhere between the three of them there was an (in)visible voice, a 5th narrator, let’s call her “Q”. An anonymous writer with a profound imagination that influenced these great story gurus to keep on writing until all is said and done.
And then there was John, living on his own little planet. Dreaming up metaphors, making profound links, being deeply spiritual, head in the clouds, feet on the earth. A philosopher, theologian and poet who believed in the power of a love called Agape. In the story of Jesus, John saw this Love shaping into flesh and bone, shining like a shimmering light and flowing like a river in flood.
These stories are not the only stories.
There’s the one my grandma used to tell. One of pancakes, ponies and a good man called Jesus who loves children to bits.
There’s the one my friend in Cape Town tells. A Jesus story of a new life growing out from underneath the rubble of a failed marriage and a spirit struggling with depression.
There’s the one the people of my country always tell. One of a grey old world that faded into the shimmering colours of a New Rainbow called Hope and Change.
Although these stories missed the cut off date to be written into the stories of the Bible, it’s still the same Storyteller Spirit who never stopped writing...
One life.
One death.
One empty tomb.
Four great storytellers.
Four great stories that shaped the history of the world forever. Each with their own unique understanding and interpretation to the significance and meaning of the extraordinary life and teachings of a good friend called Jesus.
Mark was the first, short, bold and straight to the point. It’s Kingdom Come, no time to waste.
Matthew the Jew, dug deep into the treasures of his Ancient past. While taking the scenic route of mysteries and wonders, prophets and poets, he discovered spiritual connections between Jesus and History that blew him away.
Luke, the dream doctor wrote the story to his friend. Together they hoped for a new world that’s Good News to the poor and the vulnerable. In the Way Jesus lived and died and lived again, Luke saw a glimpse of what this new Way should look like.
Somewhere between the three of them there was an (in)visible voice, a 5th narrator, let’s call her “Q”. An anonymous writer with a profound imagination that influenced these great story gurus to keep on writing until all is said and done.
And then there was John, living on his own little planet. Dreaming up metaphors, making profound links, being deeply spiritual, head in the clouds, feet on the earth. A philosopher, theologian and poet who believed in the power of a love called Agape. In the story of Jesus, John saw this Love shaping into flesh and bone, shining like a shimmering light and flowing like a river in flood.
These stories are not the only stories.
There’s the one my grandma used to tell. One of pancakes, ponies and a good man called Jesus who loves children to bits.
There’s the one my friend in Cape Town tells. A Jesus story of a new life growing out from underneath the rubble of a failed marriage and a spirit struggling with depression.
There’s the one the people of my country always tell. One of a grey old world that faded into the shimmering colours of a New Rainbow called Hope and Change.
Although these stories missed the cut off date to be written into the stories of the Bible, it’s still the same Storyteller Spirit who never stopped writing...
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Day 36
I had a professor who used to say: "We don’t read the Bible, the Bible reads us."
I always wondered what the heck that means.
Let me attempt an explanation:
I think what my old proffie meant was that the stories of the Bible play out in the lives of ordinary people all over the world.
The Spirit inspired truths that carry with them the potential to shape lives, change paths and cultivate good moral characters, need to be lived.
For most of us, that’s like third base.
Modern Religion got stuck at first.
The church I grew up in taught me that a clever Christian is a good Christian. The end in mind of the faith journey is to know everything there is to know about Christianity. The goal is knowledge that we can test, measure and evaluate.
Obviously, it is good to know what the Bible says and to have that knowledge we need to read it again and again and again, because humans tend to forget.
But the “knowledge” found in the Ancient Hebrew Faith that inspired and shaped the theology of Jesus, is way different from our modern understanding of “knowing stuff”.
The Hebrew word for knowledge is called “Yada”. Sometimes they used it to describe the knowledge about some or other subject. Other times they used it to when people really got to know each other, like friends. Most of the times “yada” was used to describe the intimate relationship between God and humans. But then there’s also the odd now and then when they used it to describe sex between two lovers.
Huh?
Sex?
Bet I got your attention now...
Relax.
For the Old Believers to have knowledge of something were always a spiritual and intimate affair. It concerned your brain and your heart, your spirit, body and your soul.
To know the Bible in a modernistic sense will only score big in the eyes of the Sunday school teacher, but to let the stories, told by the ancient prophets, poets, dreamers and writers shape your soul, lift your heart and move your feet in the direction of The Big Story Guru, until your whole life is so enmeshed in his massive story that it becomes difficult to see where the stories of the Bible end and where your story starts, that’s the kind of knowledge “Yada” is all about.
Happy reading.
I always wondered what the heck that means.
Let me attempt an explanation:
I think what my old proffie meant was that the stories of the Bible play out in the lives of ordinary people all over the world.
The Spirit inspired truths that carry with them the potential to shape lives, change paths and cultivate good moral characters, need to be lived.
For most of us, that’s like third base.
Modern Religion got stuck at first.
The church I grew up in taught me that a clever Christian is a good Christian. The end in mind of the faith journey is to know everything there is to know about Christianity. The goal is knowledge that we can test, measure and evaluate.
Obviously, it is good to know what the Bible says and to have that knowledge we need to read it again and again and again, because humans tend to forget.
But the “knowledge” found in the Ancient Hebrew Faith that inspired and shaped the theology of Jesus, is way different from our modern understanding of “knowing stuff”.
The Hebrew word for knowledge is called “Yada”. Sometimes they used it to describe the knowledge about some or other subject. Other times they used it to when people really got to know each other, like friends. Most of the times “yada” was used to describe the intimate relationship between God and humans. But then there’s also the odd now and then when they used it to describe sex between two lovers.
Huh?
Sex?
Bet I got your attention now...
Relax.
For the Old Believers to have knowledge of something were always a spiritual and intimate affair. It concerned your brain and your heart, your spirit, body and your soul.
To know the Bible in a modernistic sense will only score big in the eyes of the Sunday school teacher, but to let the stories, told by the ancient prophets, poets, dreamers and writers shape your soul, lift your heart and move your feet in the direction of The Big Story Guru, until your whole life is so enmeshed in his massive story that it becomes difficult to see where the stories of the Bible end and where your story starts, that’s the kind of knowledge “Yada” is all about.
Happy reading.
Tuesday, 09 June 2009
Day 35
People look for the truth in the stories of the Bible with the question: “Did it happen?” Take the classic cases of Noah and the Ark; and Jonah and the whale. There are books and websites dedicated to the search for explanations on how this could happen so that the stories can be true. Or take the big debate between Creation and Evolution, behind the struggle of some Christians to embrace the realities behind theories of modern day science lies this way of thinking: If it did not happen like the Bible say it did, then it’s not the Truth anymore.
So we need to find proof of Eden, or the ark, or the virgin birth and especially the empty tomb. We need evidence like Thomas, otherwise Faith will always be wishful thinking.
But the Truth of the Gospel evolved in a different paradigm, a time way before modern man and his endless experiments on the mysteries of Life. Before the written word, before Galileo, before Darwin, before Microsoft and Wikipedia, this Truth grew out of a community of storytellers. On camelback, through desert plains, over rocky mountains, around camp fires, beside Babylon rivers, under Egyptian, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman and Barbaric oppression, underneath the rubble of a destroyed Temple and city walls and among families, friends, lovers and former enemies the Truth became flesh and bone.
The Truth of the Jesus Way is not to be found in checks and balances, in scientific proof and in a modern understanding of facts and figures.
The truthfulness of the stories of Eden, Noah and Jonah lies not with the question whether it happened or not, but rather in the reality that it happens... today.
Everywhere.
Whenever I pass the buck on to someone else without taking ownership of my own stuff-ups, the story of Adam happens in me.
Whenever I am part of change and hope, the story of Noah happens in me.
Whenever I sulk when Mercy takes the place of Judgment, the story of Jonah happens in me.
And whenever I allow God to let the Kingdom happen in me, the story of a young girl called Mary, happens in me.
Unlike the X-files, the truth of the Bible is not out there waiting to be proven right of wrong.
No, the Truth is a Way waiting to be walked. It is found in the everyday, ordinary lives of human beings living a life of Faith, Hope and Love before the Face of the Ultimate Truthful One.
So we need to find proof of Eden, or the ark, or the virgin birth and especially the empty tomb. We need evidence like Thomas, otherwise Faith will always be wishful thinking.
But the Truth of the Gospel evolved in a different paradigm, a time way before modern man and his endless experiments on the mysteries of Life. Before the written word, before Galileo, before Darwin, before Microsoft and Wikipedia, this Truth grew out of a community of storytellers. On camelback, through desert plains, over rocky mountains, around camp fires, beside Babylon rivers, under Egyptian, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman and Barbaric oppression, underneath the rubble of a destroyed Temple and city walls and among families, friends, lovers and former enemies the Truth became flesh and bone.
The Truth of the Jesus Way is not to be found in checks and balances, in scientific proof and in a modern understanding of facts and figures.
The truthfulness of the stories of Eden, Noah and Jonah lies not with the question whether it happened or not, but rather in the reality that it happens... today.
Everywhere.
Whenever I pass the buck on to someone else without taking ownership of my own stuff-ups, the story of Adam happens in me.
Whenever I am part of change and hope, the story of Noah happens in me.
Whenever I sulk when Mercy takes the place of Judgment, the story of Jonah happens in me.
And whenever I allow God to let the Kingdom happen in me, the story of a young girl called Mary, happens in me.
Unlike the X-files, the truth of the Bible is not out there waiting to be proven right of wrong.
No, the Truth is a Way waiting to be walked. It is found in the everyday, ordinary lives of human beings living a life of Faith, Hope and Love before the Face of the Ultimate Truthful One.
Monday, 08 June 2009
Day 34
Last night I asked the question whether we are missing the point when it comes to the role the Bible plays in the lives of (doubtful) believers. Let’s try to unpack this question.
Are we missing the point?
Yes...
Yes we are missing the point when the Bible is seen as the one and only truth about God. That only those who read and believe it can know God. It is as if the Bible becomes God and God becomes the Bible.
Yes we are missing the point when we read it as if the context and paradigm gaps between us and the text don’t apply.
Yes we are missing the point when the Bible is used as a sword in human hands to divide, hurt, offend and separate.
Yes we are missing the point when words written to groups of people for the benefit and growth of a whole community, is turned into a book called: “My Bible” where I, the individual, or we a specific group of people can claim exclusive rights to the Truth(s) we get out of it.
Yes we are missing the point when reading the Bible becomes the goal of our faith journey. When we think that this is the only thing God asks of us: To read a very old book.
Yes we are missing the point when we constantly feel guilty about not reading it.
And of course no...
No we are not missing the point when the Bible is part of an integrated spiritual journey defined by an honest longing to know God. On this journey the Bible is a conversation friend, a space where old stories come to life in the lives of those who are reading it. Together with other voices the Bible can help shape our own story towards the Big Story we call God.
How this “shaping of stories” takes place, I am going to need a few more posts to figure out. Stay tuned...
Are we missing the point?
Yes...
Yes we are missing the point when the Bible is seen as the one and only truth about God. That only those who read and believe it can know God. It is as if the Bible becomes God and God becomes the Bible.
Yes we are missing the point when we read it as if the context and paradigm gaps between us and the text don’t apply.
Yes we are missing the point when the Bible is used as a sword in human hands to divide, hurt, offend and separate.
Yes we are missing the point when words written to groups of people for the benefit and growth of a whole community, is turned into a book called: “My Bible” where I, the individual, or we a specific group of people can claim exclusive rights to the Truth(s) we get out of it.
Yes we are missing the point when reading the Bible becomes the goal of our faith journey. When we think that this is the only thing God asks of us: To read a very old book.
Yes we are missing the point when we constantly feel guilty about not reading it.
And of course no...
No we are not missing the point when the Bible is part of an integrated spiritual journey defined by an honest longing to know God. On this journey the Bible is a conversation friend, a space where old stories come to life in the lives of those who are reading it. Together with other voices the Bible can help shape our own story towards the Big Story we call God.
How this “shaping of stories” takes place, I am going to need a few more posts to figure out. Stay tuned...
Sunday, 07 June 2009
Day 33
Jesus once said that we should first seek the kingdom of God and the rest will follow. Through the centuries the friends of Jesus did this by listening intently to the silent whispers of the Spirit of Jesus in the stories of the ancient prophets, poets and writers; in the witnesses of the men and women at the empty tomb; in the way all of creation fits together; in the lives of the dead and the living and in the sacred spaces all over the place.
For the first 5000 thousand years the community of God-seekers did not have a Bible. The stories, prophecies, poems, songs, letters and sermons that most Christians today read as God’s untouchable Word, were back then, also understood as Moses’ sermons, Israel’s history, David’s prayers, Solomon’s wisdom, Jeremiah’s hope, Amos’ convictions and Daniel’s dreams. They believed that these written words helped them to understand themselves and God better. For them the words were dead unless they read it, engaged with it, discussed it, confronted it, believed it and lived it.
A few generations after Jesus, some of them started to see that these ancient texts helped them to see the Truth behind the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. With the help of Paul, Mark, Matthew, Luke, John, Peter and a few others they came to see how this historical event(s) were connected with all of creation, how this ordinary human being was “God-with-us” and how this new understanding changed their lives in this life and the next.
It was only 300 and something years after Jesus that the community of Jesus-followers thought it handy to give more structure to the literature they read as a community. It took another 1200 years before a part of the community felt compelled to make this ancient Library of God-stories available in ordinary, common and easy-to-read language for everyone who wants to take part in the movement of Jesus.
So if the Bible, like we know it today, is only 500 years old, while the movement of Jesus has been around for way longer than that, can it then be that modern Christianity is missing the point when it comes to the Ancient Word(s) of Faith?
Something to the think about as another week in the lives of doubtful believers unfolds.
For the first 5000 thousand years the community of God-seekers did not have a Bible. The stories, prophecies, poems, songs, letters and sermons that most Christians today read as God’s untouchable Word, were back then, also understood as Moses’ sermons, Israel’s history, David’s prayers, Solomon’s wisdom, Jeremiah’s hope, Amos’ convictions and Daniel’s dreams. They believed that these written words helped them to understand themselves and God better. For them the words were dead unless they read it, engaged with it, discussed it, confronted it, believed it and lived it.
A few generations after Jesus, some of them started to see that these ancient texts helped them to see the Truth behind the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. With the help of Paul, Mark, Matthew, Luke, John, Peter and a few others they came to see how this historical event(s) were connected with all of creation, how this ordinary human being was “God-with-us” and how this new understanding changed their lives in this life and the next.
It was only 300 and something years after Jesus that the community of Jesus-followers thought it handy to give more structure to the literature they read as a community. It took another 1200 years before a part of the community felt compelled to make this ancient Library of God-stories available in ordinary, common and easy-to-read language for everyone who wants to take part in the movement of Jesus.
So if the Bible, like we know it today, is only 500 years old, while the movement of Jesus has been around for way longer than that, can it then be that modern Christianity is missing the point when it comes to the Ancient Word(s) of Faith?
Something to the think about as another week in the lives of doubtful believers unfolds.
Saturday, 06 June 2009
Day 32
A woman whose life reached a dead end went to do her shopping. She usually goes when she knows it will be quiet, like Sundays when the town goes to church. Then all the burnt bridges, the broken hearts, the failed friendships and the judgmental bystanders will be occupied for at least an hour or so. In a small town like this she has no other option. In the city it’s so easy to start over, so easy to pick yourself up again. But out here where everyone’s life is everyone’s business, a broken story never seems to heal.
All she can do is hide.
The shop was dead quiet.
Except for a stranger she did not bother to notice.
“Can you please show me where I can find mineral water? I’ve been wandering up and down, this shop is really weird.” the stranger shook her out of her solitude and safety.
“Sorry, but I don’t work here, go and ask in front.”
“If you knew who I am, you would be the asking water from me.”
“Listen pal, you don’t even have a basket. Whatever your intentions are with me, I am done with the men in this town. You’re wasting your time.”
“I can see you’re hurt, your eyes give you away. Let’s have coffee, you’ll talk, I’ll listen.”
She shared her story, where she wanted to hold back, a graceful question here and a word of wisdom there seem to break all the walls between her and the stranger. In the end it took two cuppachinos and a large piece of chocolate cake for him to change her life.
Meanwhile the sermon reached its end; no one knew God had just visited their town. While Sunday slowly drifts into darkness, on Monday morning His footprints will still be visible. The woman who spoke to no one, who lived in shame, who broke almost every heart in town will face her shadows, ask for forgiveness and start to walk the road of healing and reconciliation.
The town won’t know what hit them...
All she can do is hide.
The shop was dead quiet.
Except for a stranger she did not bother to notice.
“Can you please show me where I can find mineral water? I’ve been wandering up and down, this shop is really weird.” the stranger shook her out of her solitude and safety.
“Sorry, but I don’t work here, go and ask in front.”
“If you knew who I am, you would be the asking water from me.”
“Listen pal, you don’t even have a basket. Whatever your intentions are with me, I am done with the men in this town. You’re wasting your time.”
“I can see you’re hurt, your eyes give you away. Let’s have coffee, you’ll talk, I’ll listen.”
She shared her story, where she wanted to hold back, a graceful question here and a word of wisdom there seem to break all the walls between her and the stranger. In the end it took two cuppachinos and a large piece of chocolate cake for him to change her life.
Meanwhile the sermon reached its end; no one knew God had just visited their town. While Sunday slowly drifts into darkness, on Monday morning His footprints will still be visible. The woman who spoke to no one, who lived in shame, who broke almost every heart in town will face her shadows, ask for forgiveness and start to walk the road of healing and reconciliation.
The town won’t know what hit them...
Friday, 05 June 2009
Day 31
A friend of mine runs a big company. He rescued it from failure and is steering it towards success. He is not even 40 and already he’s got the world beneath his feat. A few weeks ago he and his family (wife and two small kids) went to visit one of the many nearby slums. They stayed with the locals and slept in a shack.
They shared life with the men, women and children the world neglects.
No sleeping bags.
No heaters.
No burglar bars and high tech alarm systems.
No credit cards and extra cash for just in case.
Just poverty and life.
His kids played with the children of the slum. His wife walked, talked, laughed and cried with the women of the slum. He had beer and conversations with the men of the slum.
“Why, for God sakes?” I hear someone asks. “They must be crazy. This is Africa, how irresponsible.”
But then the words of the Counter Cultural Rebel Prophet cuts through the bones of scepticism:
“Good news to the poor, always good news to the poor.”
When the life of a powerful and successful CEO becomes enmeshed in the desperate and vulnerable life of people barely holding on, the Good News of Jesus becomes flesh and bones. When the CEO goes back and rearranges his life in terms of values and lifestyle, the power of the Life Giving Spirit kicks in. When this new way of living becomes the reality of some of the friends of the CEO, then something the ancient followers of Jesus called Church, evolves. And when this new type of community gathers steam and rolls down the hills of stereotypes and prejudices towards the valley of understanding, respect and love, a revolution called the kingdom of God is at hand.
Jesus said something about us doing more than he ever dreamed of doing, something bigger and deeper. Something that’s good for all mankind. I think the stuff my friend, his wife and their two children are up to might just be what Jesus hoped his friends would be doing long after he’s gone.
They shared life with the men, women and children the world neglects.
No sleeping bags.
No heaters.
No burglar bars and high tech alarm systems.
No credit cards and extra cash for just in case.
Just poverty and life.
His kids played with the children of the slum. His wife walked, talked, laughed and cried with the women of the slum. He had beer and conversations with the men of the slum.
“Why, for God sakes?” I hear someone asks. “They must be crazy. This is Africa, how irresponsible.”
But then the words of the Counter Cultural Rebel Prophet cuts through the bones of scepticism:
“Good news to the poor, always good news to the poor.”
When the life of a powerful and successful CEO becomes enmeshed in the desperate and vulnerable life of people barely holding on, the Good News of Jesus becomes flesh and bones. When the CEO goes back and rearranges his life in terms of values and lifestyle, the power of the Life Giving Spirit kicks in. When this new way of living becomes the reality of some of the friends of the CEO, then something the ancient followers of Jesus called Church, evolves. And when this new type of community gathers steam and rolls down the hills of stereotypes and prejudices towards the valley of understanding, respect and love, a revolution called the kingdom of God is at hand.
Jesus said something about us doing more than he ever dreamed of doing, something bigger and deeper. Something that’s good for all mankind. I think the stuff my friend, his wife and their two children are up to might just be what Jesus hoped his friends would be doing long after he’s gone.
Thursday, 04 June 2009
Day 30
The world expected a king, but what they got was a humble man riding on a donkey towards his death. As time went by, people began to understand the deeper truth behind this irony. Some even believed it to be Good News.
Kings come to rule and dictate. People are either subjects and servants or slaves. They will hope for a righteous Ruler, but history tells of a different reality.
Then comes Jesus and instead of being the king the world was hoping for, he chose a different route, one of serving, giving and loving. A Way of Life where significance is measured, not in terms of fame, status, family tree, sex, wealth of power, but rather by the value of one’s identity as a Human Being (re)created in the image of the Great Creator. He did come to make people subjects or slaves, instead he called them to be friends on a journey towards a different way of being human.
In the end this truth was too much to ask of the people of his day. It’s easier to be a subject of a king, even a bad king, because all you got to do is follow orders. You don’t have to love, you just have to obey.
Through centuries people choose to keep on living under the rule of Power, instead of following a friend beyond the boundaries of the powerful status quo towards a new Way where Love is the great criteria for life. The world saw it in France under the rule of Napoleon, in Germany under the rule of Hitler, in the USA under the rule of Bush, in South-Africa under the rule of Verwoerd and we see it in Zimbabwe under the current rule of Mugabe.
We also see it in religious systems where God is portrayed as an all Powerful King and where the leadership, popes, bishops, priests, clergy, preachers and pastors act as if they have special privileges that the rest of his subjects and slaves don’t have.
But still people choose to stay in this reality, because it is so much easier to obey than to think, act and take responsibility.
The Good News call of Jesus is sometimes just too subversive to bear.
The call to be friends with a humble man on a donkey towards certain death versus a life of obedience under a Rich and Powerful Ruler...
You make the choice.
Kings come to rule and dictate. People are either subjects and servants or slaves. They will hope for a righteous Ruler, but history tells of a different reality.
Then comes Jesus and instead of being the king the world was hoping for, he chose a different route, one of serving, giving and loving. A Way of Life where significance is measured, not in terms of fame, status, family tree, sex, wealth of power, but rather by the value of one’s identity as a Human Being (re)created in the image of the Great Creator. He did come to make people subjects or slaves, instead he called them to be friends on a journey towards a different way of being human.
In the end this truth was too much to ask of the people of his day. It’s easier to be a subject of a king, even a bad king, because all you got to do is follow orders. You don’t have to love, you just have to obey.
Through centuries people choose to keep on living under the rule of Power, instead of following a friend beyond the boundaries of the powerful status quo towards a new Way where Love is the great criteria for life. The world saw it in France under the rule of Napoleon, in Germany under the rule of Hitler, in the USA under the rule of Bush, in South-Africa under the rule of Verwoerd and we see it in Zimbabwe under the current rule of Mugabe.
We also see it in religious systems where God is portrayed as an all Powerful King and where the leadership, popes, bishops, priests, clergy, preachers and pastors act as if they have special privileges that the rest of his subjects and slaves don’t have.
But still people choose to stay in this reality, because it is so much easier to obey than to think, act and take responsibility.
The Good News call of Jesus is sometimes just too subversive to bear.
The call to be friends with a humble man on a donkey towards certain death versus a life of obedience under a Rich and Powerful Ruler...
You make the choice.
Wednesday, 03 June 2009
Day 29
A few months ago a tree was declared dead outside our house. They cut it off, took it out and left it on the pile of rubbish. Later during the day a friend showed me the tree. The people who took it out forgot to check its pulse. There was still life hidden inside the tree. A fresh shoot was growing out of the decaying, dying tree. There was still some energy, some life source and some potential left deep inside its roots. With a little bit of nurturing, a handful of bone meal and compost and a whole lot of grace from Mother Nature, the tree might survive the winter. So I took the tree and planted it in my back garden.
The little bugger is still growing.
More than two millennia’s ago a rebel prophet spoke of the coming kingdom of God as a new shoot growing out of a dead tree trunk. Just when you thought hope was lost, faith a waste of time and God declared dead by the woes of the world, something fresh and new springs to life.
A few centuries later the friends of Jesus thought of him as this new form of Hope. They called him “God Incarnated”.
There is an irony to this. Humans through the ages spoke of God as being big, powerful, strong and steady. This is hopefully all true. But then the friends of Jesus, in the light of the old prophet embraced a new way of thinking about God. The new sprig can easily brake. The death of the tree is a moment away. The hope they had was vulnerable and fragile. It was easy to miss and quick to disappear. It had to be nurtured, cared for and loved. It needed time to heal before it could grow.
And here we are, the modern versions of the friends of Jesus, living in a society (secular and religious) obsessed with money, sex and power. Everything needs to be fast, strong, big and over the top and before we know it, the same applies to our God. So we build our churches either like castles or shopping malls. We plan our faith future with big budgets and measure the success and failure of our religious outcomes in terms of power, status, wealth and monetary growth.
But still the counter cultural images of the old prophets and the friends of Jesus echo in time, cut like a sword and scream like a woman in labour:
Faith takes time
Hope is fragile
Love is vulnerable
and God is somewhere in all of the above.
The little bugger is still growing.
More than two millennia’s ago a rebel prophet spoke of the coming kingdom of God as a new shoot growing out of a dead tree trunk. Just when you thought hope was lost, faith a waste of time and God declared dead by the woes of the world, something fresh and new springs to life.
A few centuries later the friends of Jesus thought of him as this new form of Hope. They called him “God Incarnated”.
There is an irony to this. Humans through the ages spoke of God as being big, powerful, strong and steady. This is hopefully all true. But then the friends of Jesus, in the light of the old prophet embraced a new way of thinking about God. The new sprig can easily brake. The death of the tree is a moment away. The hope they had was vulnerable and fragile. It was easy to miss and quick to disappear. It had to be nurtured, cared for and loved. It needed time to heal before it could grow.
And here we are, the modern versions of the friends of Jesus, living in a society (secular and religious) obsessed with money, sex and power. Everything needs to be fast, strong, big and over the top and before we know it, the same applies to our God. So we build our churches either like castles or shopping malls. We plan our faith future with big budgets and measure the success and failure of our religious outcomes in terms of power, status, wealth and monetary growth.
But still the counter cultural images of the old prophets and the friends of Jesus echo in time, cut like a sword and scream like a woman in labour:
Faith takes time
Hope is fragile
Love is vulnerable
and God is somewhere in all of the above.
Tuesday, 02 June 2009
Day 28
The year has tipped into second half.
In the silence of a cold first winter night, I am reminded how fragile life is. Winter is God’s way of keeping earth humble. Frost, ice, wind and rain leave everything battered and bruised. Life becomes vulnerable.
While the world outside our house slowly turns into shades of lifeless grey, the gas heater next to me is fighting hard to keep winter out.
We do this with our souls to.
It’s hard to embrace brokenness. It’s not easy to let life take you on a journey to be vulnerable. Everything in me, kick and scream against it. Cowboys don’t cry, boys don’t show their pain and
real men can take the punch.
But Jesus showed something else about the way of Life.
He cried at the grave of a friend, in the loneliness of Gethsemane and on the cross while dying.
Jesus embraced the loneliness of winter, because it’s the only way to prepare for the resurrection in spring.
In the silence of a cold first winter night, I am reminded how fragile life is. Winter is God’s way of keeping earth humble. Frost, ice, wind and rain leave everything battered and bruised. Life becomes vulnerable.
While the world outside our house slowly turns into shades of lifeless grey, the gas heater next to me is fighting hard to keep winter out.
We do this with our souls to.
It’s hard to embrace brokenness. It’s not easy to let life take you on a journey to be vulnerable. Everything in me, kick and scream against it. Cowboys don’t cry, boys don’t show their pain and
real men can take the punch.
But Jesus showed something else about the way of Life.
He cried at the grave of a friend, in the loneliness of Gethsemane and on the cross while dying.
Jesus embraced the loneliness of winter, because it’s the only way to prepare for the resurrection in spring.
Monday, 01 June 2009
Day 27
I sat in traffic the whole day. Road works, accidents, taxis and general Joburg chaos. On Sunday someone said that it's easy to be a Christian, especially in South-Africa.
I disagree.
After a day like today the Jesus Way is even more difficult than I thought.
Sure it’s easy when Christianity is about going to church and reading the Bible. When faith is a cultural discipline that happens on a Sunday, it’s a walk in the park.
But to be patient during rush hour when you are already half an hour late, is tricky.
To hope, when a young man my age drags his blind sister through the endless rows of cars hoping someone will show them mercy, is tricky.
To keep your temper under control, when a taxi suddenly stops so that the driver can have a casual chat with someone walking by, is tricky.
To live with peaceful simplicity, when society runs like crazy towards a finish line that does not exist, is tricky.
To have faith in God’s goodness, when the whole world looks a mess, is tricky.
To walk the Jesus Way during 07:00 and 19:00 while trying to make an honest living without losing your sanity seems impossible on a day like today.
I disagree.
After a day like today the Jesus Way is even more difficult than I thought.
Sure it’s easy when Christianity is about going to church and reading the Bible. When faith is a cultural discipline that happens on a Sunday, it’s a walk in the park.
But to be patient during rush hour when you are already half an hour late, is tricky.
To hope, when a young man my age drags his blind sister through the endless rows of cars hoping someone will show them mercy, is tricky.
To keep your temper under control, when a taxi suddenly stops so that the driver can have a casual chat with someone walking by, is tricky.
To live with peaceful simplicity, when society runs like crazy towards a finish line that does not exist, is tricky.
To have faith in God’s goodness, when the whole world looks a mess, is tricky.
To walk the Jesus Way during 07:00 and 19:00 while trying to make an honest living without losing your sanity seems impossible on a day like today.
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