Confessions of a Denominationally Promiscuous Lutheran: Benton Street Baptist Church

I found out about the evening service at Benton Street Baptist Church from their user-friendly website. I know they have a sizeable gathering on Sunday mornings, and I was curious to learn about their evening worship. When I planned on going to this service, I had not known that it would be a student and youth-lead service. I was pleasantly surprised.

This downtown church has its main entrance facing Benton Street, with entrances to the parking lot, also on Benton Street and on St George Street (a side street). When I arrived, it was via the St George Street parking lot, but I wanted to see what the main street entrance experience was like, so I went to the Benton Street parking lot entrance to enter the building. I approached the glass doors just as an elderly couple approached. They were regular attendees at this evening worship service, and they moved confidently towards the doors only to find them locked! Apparently this was unusual, and the gentleman proceeded with an insistent beating of fists upon the door, whilst I went around to the pedestrian main entrance on Benton Street to see if that was open.

Upon discovering it too was locked, I returned to the parking lot entrance where I stood beside the elderly couple while the gentleman continued to try to get the attention of people inside the inner set of doors. He was, within a few minutes, successful. The doors were unlocked and we were welcomed in. Three different, unfamiliar people greeted and welcomed me in the foyer area, asking if it was my first time at their church. It was not clear to me if this area also was a baptistry (no clearly present font) but it had a lot of information in it: a TV-monitor cycled information about the church’s mission leaders and their activities nationwide as well as internationally, and a pamphlet stand was full of various info guides.

There was clear signage in this area guiding us to exits, washrooms and childcare. People were greeting each other and talking in this space; it had a warm, inviting, community feeling to it. I had a few minutes here before I was ushered into the main sanctuary for worship, and handed a bulletin of sorts (attached) at the sanctuary entrance.

The usher introduced himself by name, welcomed me asking my name, shook my hand, and invited me to sit anywhere I would like. I selected an empty pew. The worship space was set up theatre style, with central and flanking pews. I sat in a central pew a few rows from the back of the sanctuary. Within a few minutes, a member came and sat beside me, introduced herself and inquired whether it was my first time there. I did get the impression that she had intentionally set out to welcome the stranger. She looked familiar and we soon discovered that I knew her from the recently closed Rockway Mennonite Second Hand Store from downtown Kitchener. My new friend informed me that tonight’s worship service would be lead by the church’s youth. I received many a friendly nod, welcoming smile and greeting from other members of the congregation. A lady a few pews forward turned and whispered to me “The youth are leading worship tonight. You’ll enjoy it! They do this once a month.” Her enthusiasm was infectious J and I felt embraced by the welcoming joy of her spirit.

I took a few minutes to go through the bulletin. It was more of an activity guide for the church than an order of worship. I took in the space, which was simple in its design and decoration. The central symbol behind the ambo / altar area seemed to be an artistic representation of a flame, or a large sheaf of wheat, in metals (bronze, silver, brass). The space we would usually consider altar (at the front of the church) was set up more like a stage, with a full set of worship band equipment and a grand piano. I did not get the impression it was used as an altar in the way Lutherans traditionally consecrate that forward segment of worship space. There were no signs of communion elements.

Flanking the “stage” were two beautiful quilts as wall hangings. On the left side the quilt read “Serve One Another in Love”, and on the right side the quilt read “In your heart set apart Christ as Lord”. I really liked the core messages, and the lack of competing art, signs and symbols in the space. As I centred myself for worship in this space, the two quilts reminded me of the commandments Jesus identifies as the two greatest commandments: to love God with all we have and are, and to love our neighbours as ourselves.

The youth called the worship to order, and the process of formal Gathering was done with a number of songs, for which we the gathering were lead by the youth worship band. The lyrics (without music) were projected onto two screens on the front walls of the worship space, and a strong lead singer in the youth worship band helped us make our way through the tunes. There were hymnals in the pews (and Bibles), but we were not guided to the hymn numbers. The songs were not familiar to me, and from the gusto of the congregational participation, I did not think the gathering was necessarily familiar with the tunes, but they were selections that were catchy enough, and the lyrics were very meaningful, Christo-centric, thanksgiving and mission oriented. I found it easy enough to follow the tunes.

Two songs in, we were lead in a gathering prayer by one of the students. More songs followed. In essence this was the formal Gathering portion of the worship service. The informal part was the welcome and conversation extended in the foyer area and in the pew before worship was called to order. The youth pastor then did a combination PowerPoint presentation-message segment. He used PowerPoint to share a summary of the activities of children, youth and students at this church. I was surprised at the numbers of non-church youth they were reaching in the community. One weekly gathering had received 93 community youth participants that week, which I think in our downtown context is phenomenal outreach to unchurched youth.[1] The message focus was on Micah 6:8, with a plea to the older generation in the congregation to mentor and support this pastor’s generation and those younger than him, to guide this group as young Christians.

There was no formal closing, sending or end-of-worship prayer, which made for an interesting close of worship: the pastor left the lectern, people started getting up. I asked the new friend beside me if worship was over, and she said it was. A few other people stopped on their way out to thank me for coming, and invite me back again. One or two people asked me more about myself and seemed in no rush to head out into the Sunday night.

The Sunday Assembly (pp 106-7) provides a list of questions for assessing the Gathering portion of a worship service. When I consider the questions it offers, I think this worship service provided quite clear leadership to the Gathering practice, although it did not include elements that are familiar from our Lutheran tradition (Greeting, Confession or Prayer of the Day). In this Sunday assembly, one option not available to me was anonymity, for the congregation was very warm, welcoming and curious (in a friendly way) about me. When I consider these non-Lutheran worship adventures so far, I think the Roman Catholic Mass best facilitates personally anonymous worship in a communal setting.

I often have thought that an evening service close to my home would help round out Sabbath for me. I think I might return to this 6.30 pm worship for such an evening feeding!

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[1] I shared this information with Pastor Nancy Kelly at my home congregation on Monday morning after Breakfast Ministry; I found out St Mark’s is going to be trying some new initiatives to reach community youth, together with Calvary United, and I was encouraged to return to Benton Street Baptist Church to invite Pastor Jaye Rice to help and guide us as we seek to do, further north in Kitchener, what he is stewarding so effectively in the heart of our downtown! The Holy Spirit at work through these denominationally promiscuous worship assignments, a reminder to me that we are the body of Christ indeed, unbounded by denominational walls J

Through the Eye of the Needle with Metaphor.

Metaphor is like a minute, motorized boat, capable of pulling colossal understanding about infinite things through the eye of a needle; raising the bar of consciousness and awareness in a way impossible without the model, the vehicle which metaphor provides.

There are some things that are just too big for us to understand in their raw reality. We may have a core-of-our-being inkling or even confidence that such too-big things exist, but our minds approach them sidelong, like a crab, not head-on, because to approach such understandings head on would be like trying to eat a fully grown elephant in one bite. Overwhelming. Seemingly impossible.

Infinity is one such concept. The concept of infinity; an infinite thing, an infinite being, and infinite-ness - these are all concepts that extend beyond the places which our eyes can comfortably see, they stretch past the places our minds can readily conceive ... yet we have a core-of-our-being inkling and confidence that infinity exists. We are able to conceive of a thing whose boundaries our mind must recognize are beyond the reaches of our very minds. We can understand the concept of it, without being able to fully encompass with our minds the reality of it. Sometimes we might even want to talk with someone else about it ... in fact sometimes it is only in the ability to share the concepts with another that we are reassured that we have not stepped off into the realms of insanity.

So we need a language with which to express these profoundly enormous, core-of-our-being inklings and understandings with others; a way to tentatively put feelers out into the world to see whether the things we conceive of in our very core are present in the cores of others; a means of sensing whether what we sense inside exists beyond the boundaries of our very selves. We need a language. A language that can make something really big manageable for the mind, manageable for conversation, manageable for debate so our understanding can be further honed ... we need a way to speak about things bigger than our minds can fully conceive of ... we need a way to help us make the big become a little bit smaller.

This Sesame Street video has always appealed to me because of how it helps to put things in perspective:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGLKhP_32xA

Metaphor is indeed like a minute, motorized boat, capable of pulling colossal understanding about infinite things through the eye of a needle. It allows the big to become the little, and helps us to see the little as the small, so we can indeed say "that's about the size of it".

In engineering we use numerical equations to represent realities that are inexpressible in words.

Those equations are simply the engineer's metaphorical language. For everything else, for everyone else, there is metaphor :)

Confessions of a Denominationally Promiscuous Lutheran: St. Mary Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows Roman Catholic Church

I called before going to this worship, wanting to get some idea of what to expect, for I had much to do that day. When I asked how long does your worship last, the lady who answered the phone told me “As long as it takes”. I was at first annoyed, until I realized I was speaking chronos and she was speaking kairos.[1] I became thankful for the humbling of my spirit, for this was worship I was going to attend, not some sociologist’s experiment!

I got to the church, which is in downtown Kitchener, at noon. The worship was to begin at 12.10 pm. I had time in the quiet worship space to experience its magnificence. High ceilings, painted with frescos, abundant art and statues including statues of angels, an altar that resembled a multi-turreted castle, abundant touches of gold, stained glass windows and chandelier-style light fixtures created a space of grandeur. I noticed that only a few of the chandelier lights, those closest to the front of the worship space, were on, suggesting a focal area for those attending worship. I noticed the other worshippers kneeling. I positioned the kneeler and I too kneeled. It felt different to be on my knees in church; in this grand setting it felt right to be smaller and on my knees, for God felt big, grand and awesome in this space.

A worship leader, dressed in alb, came and retrieved communion-ware from a small cupboard nestled in the grand, multi-turreted altar. The priest, dressed in red for this was a Saint’s day, came forward to the communion table. The formal portion of worship began with a familiar gathering “The Lord be with you”. I felt the vestigial relationship of Lutheran praxis with Roman Catholic praxis, like a gossamer thread of connection.

It was difficult for me to hear; the large, mostly empty worship space generated an echo and the priest spoke in a manner that had the echoes of his words rolling, cascading, mingling with each other, more a flow of grand and thunderous sound than a coherent stream of decipherable words. I stopped trying to receive this worship intellectually and with a cognitive understanding of words, and I felt God in the huge space – space which often separates us one from another as believers. I felt alone, and I was able to worship in a different way in my solitude. The artwork met me in my solitude, and I experienced the presence of Jesus’ solitude, as He walked a journey only He could have known as the mortal-divine alone could know, whilst among the mere mortals. Sometimes this is our journey of faith – not something we can spell out for communal worship, but something that happens in the times of solitude.

Three readings were done; I could not find them in any common lectionaries.

Prayers were said, of which I knew very few. Even the Lord’s Prayer had some different praxis for it’s common recital in this worship – a praxis I did not know, so I prayed in my head and in my heart. The prayers were familiar to all the worshippers except me. I enjoyed their unified rumbliness, as they rolled around in the wide, tall space around me, in perfect unison, recited in almost a monotone: an expression of muscle memory of the soul of those who have known these prayers, probably as long as they have known themselves.

Partway through the service I realized that someone I knew through my work in ministry was seated a few seats back from me. She knew I was not Roman Catholic, and I thought she might come forward to join me, but she did not. There was no program to guide my understanding of what was going on. I participated in the actions of standing, kneeling, sitting, standing, kneeling not by guidance provided by the priest, but by watching the others.

Communion was served, and the priest ate and drank his portion first, before serving the congregation. He fed himself, and I thought he too is having a personal worship with God, though in a communal setting. I think, for me, communion is about us serving each other (as) the Body of Christ. When I eat or drink alone in commemoration of the body and blood of Christ, it is usually in my personal worship. This is why I thought the priest was having a personal worship with God.

There was a weekly bulletin I had picked up near the entrance, and I had glanced through it. On its cover page, in bold print, it advised “the Sacraments are available to registered, regularly attending parishioners only.” As such, I did not seek to participate in communion, and I was happy that I had been fed the day before at my home church. I was very happy for the abundant art, with which I communed, as I thought of the scriptures in the book of Ezekiel. When Ezekiel has his visions, I have trouble picturing all his descriptions in one dream setting. Sometimes God is like that – we cannot picture Him – but we try to capture Him in our words, our descriptions, our art, our structures. We do this, I believe, out of reverence and love for His glory – and we do the best we can. I saw that reverence and love in the abundant Roman Catholic art, statuary, and the elaborate carvings of the confessional chambers. I celebrated the love of Jesus in these works of art.

The peace was shared by people turning in their places and showing peace signs to the faces around them. Each person remained anchored in their place. There were about 35 people worshiping. Nobody sought to reach out physically to touch anyone else.

The priest put the host back in its little cupboard, and main worship was complete. A subset of the congregation moved to a corner together and began to recite Hail Mary and Our Father in unison. One chandelier remained on above them – lighting their appeals. I listened to them for about ten minutes, before I quietly left.

Mission & God in the midst: I definitely experienced God in the midst of the worship and the worship space. I did not leave feeling intellectually fed, to then bring God intellectually out into the world beyond the worship. However I was fed in the spirit, by the beauty and grandeur of the space and the art, and by the comfortable familiarity of the believers who worshiped without any apparent cues. So it was a spirit-fed me who left worship, to go out into the world, with a heart rejoicing in Jesus.

Welcome & hospitality: I did not experience these from the congregation or the readily visible worship materials in this worship setting. I experienced the presence of God though, and I felt welcome in His presence.

Pattern & Ordo: There was a definite pattern to the worship, known to everyone else there excepting me. Everyone knew when to sit, stand, kneel, pray and what to pray without any prompting. I reckon anyone unfamiliar with the pattern in this worship would not have been able to follow.

Closing reflection: We study worship, but it cannot be studied only academically if we are to use worship in ministry and in mission. In mission we will often encounter worship with which we are not familiar, to which we might not be welcomed or invited, yet within which God is still abundantly available to us, if we can get past our critical minds. We must learn to exist with reverence in the various worship places and practices of other believers, other constituent members of the Body of Christ. It is not always cognitive and intellectual appreciation and praise we must expect in worship. Sometimes it is an affirmation of our difference, and the knowledge in our hearts that it is not us who bind ourselves to each other, but God whose job it is to bind us together, when we open our hearts to be thusly joined. Thanks be to God for His omnipresence, omnipotence and omniscience J

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[1] chronos and kairos used here as indicated in our text, Keeping Time.

Confessions of a Denominationally Promiscuous Lutheran: Global Community Church

The congregation was a small group of people that meet in a home for their main weekly Sunday worship. Their expression of hospitality began with the invitation, extended by a fellow Seminarian; an invitation that included offer of transportation, and a description of what I could expect.

A small sign on the screen door at the home declared the identity of the church and the days and times of main worship and Bible Study. Gathering included handshakes and introductions with names to everyone, including the children. There were ten people in attendance including me: a Korean family (2 children), a Portuguese Family (one child), a young Chinese woman, a middle aged Canadian man, and myself. Worship was held in a living room with a large window of which the curtains were open to the beautiful sunny day; the trees swaying in the gentle breeze seemed to participate in praise along with us.

The order of worship was written on a children's whiteboard (songs from hymnal, songs from Binder, scripture reference). We opened with Apostle's Creed, Lord's Prayer (said in Portuguese by the Portuguese wife) and song (all English). Hymnals and song binders were provided to everyone, and everyone had the option of playing a simple instrument - cymbals, shakers. The children played as shakers little plastic bead-filled eggs to the rhythm of the piano and guitar accompaniment.

When we got to scripture, we all read, going around the living room where we sat in a circle. Each of us read a verse, around in the circle until the reading was completed, the children read too in their turns, with parents helping to sound out difficult words. We read from our personal editions of the Bible; one person read in her mother tongue, Portuguese. The reading, I discovered, was a common lectionary reading: Year A Proper 18 (23) Matthew 18:21-35. I felt oneness with the body of Christ in the knowledge that in this home, on this Sunday, we as believers joined believers internationally who were reading and reflecting on this same lesson, of the servant whose debt was forgiven.

The leader erased the ordo from the whiteboard, and drew a small diagram, which he used to facilitate the group discussion which is how the lesson was studied. Words were added to the diagram as we all gave input on how the first servant would have felt when the King forgave his debt. We discussed how the first servant did not extend the same grace to the second servant. The question of human forgiveness of each other was raised; someone carefully identified that forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same thing, and sometimes it may not be safe to resume relationship, but the forgiveness clears our own hearts. The small group setting, and the warm welcome created a comfortable context for sharing opinions and thoughts, and personal struggles with forgiveness.

Intercessionary prayers followed, which were written on the board (by the leader's 9-year-old daughter who claimed she had, and indeed did have, better handwriting than the leader). Each person offered items for which they wanted intercessionary prayer. These included: restful sleep, missionaries overseas known to the group, Canadian political leaders and their interventions in representing the rights of Aboriginal peoples, family in other countries, birthdays that were coming up, thanksgiving. Each item was jotted on the whiteboard, and when all were listed, each person took up someone else's petition – our scribe wrote names beside each petition on the whiteboard.

We went around in the circle and each person prayed one item. The children also prayed - in English and Korean; the Korean wife prayed in Korean and the Portuguese wife prayed in Portuguese. A child prayed in Korean and English the intercessionary prayer request I had made - there was a special sacredness to her earnest, bilingual petition to God. I thought of Christ’s words "suffer the children to come onto me"[1] and I felt a weight being lifted from my heart on the words of this child who spoke for me with God.

Jesus’ words: “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it” got a new meaning for me - seeing the children worship like this made me feel even more the humility and wonder of God who accepts me as a child, and of Jesus’ willingness to protect me with the blood He shed.

After the prayers, we moved to the dining room and kitchen area, where the finishing touches were done to a light meal, which included bread, fruit, Korean pancakes and tea. We communed around that table, sharing stories of our traditions, our experiences in ministry and as Christians, foods from our countries, and other items that had happened in the week. The worship leader offered me a lift home, and dropped two members who were not from that neighbourhood home. I walked home and the sunshine felt especially like a blessing on my face, the gentle breeze like a caress from God. I felt God’s accompaniment proceeding from worship through the rest of that day into the Sabbath night.

Welcome & hospitality – I found this worship very personal, intimate, encouraging for return with invitation to re-join anytime, and even to join for thanksgiving worship and meal. Sharing names, sitting in a circle, their praxis of scripture study, intercessionary prayer and communal meal helped to include the newcomers, giving everyone voice. Availability of hymnals, song binders and musical instruments for all allowed everyone to experience complete participation. I especially liked that the children were so included, from scripture reading, to songs, to intercessionary prayers.

Mission & God in the midst - This church invited people in, making their attendance and even their transportation to the worship easy. I was reminded of "when you do this to the least of my brothers you do this onto me" (Matthew 25:45) in the way we were invited and included. I felt the presence of a warm, loving, inviting God in the midst of the group of strangers. Mission focus was also present in scripture study: discussing the role of forgiveness, and how its manifestation by us as believers is a response to God that we take out into the world. Mission focus was present in the content of the intercessionary prayers, especially in the prayers for justice for Aboriginal people, non-Christian family overseas, and the work of missionaries. We were sent out into the world filled with a real (in our tummies and souls) sense of being fed by our communal worship and meal.

Pattern & Ordo: The worship included significant elements of traditional, larger church worship practice: the Apostle’s Creed, Gathering Song, the Lord’s Prayer, scripture reading from the 3-year Common Lectionary, intercessionary prayer, communal meal and sending. Visitors were made aware of what the ordo would be in the invitation (in my case), and also by the writing up on the whiteboard. I experienced a sense of being centred in the worship as a result of the care taken in sharing the ordo with me, a visitor. Here also I experienced hospitality, and I think this church demonstrates the graceful spirit of God who invites us, and in His Word gives an order to our lives.

Closing Reflection – I liked this worship for the way it welcomes strangers and makes the Body of Christ in the living, gathering of believers who could sing praises, study scripture and support each other, and fed us for sending us out into the world. I think this is a good model for ministry that might include small group worship with diverse people.

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[1] But Jesus called for them and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.’ (NRSV Luke 18:16-17)

Getting Naked Beneath the Armour

There is a naked time in between taking off the armour of old hates, hurts, disappointments, resentments and wounds and putting on the armour of Christ. That naked time can make one feel really vulnerable and scared. But God waits patiently until the armour of baptism in Christ truly lies against naked skin.

Galatians 5 guides us to be reminded about law versus love. Law seeks human balance and human retribution. Law is a covenant conditionally made, sealed in the Old Testament with circumcision. The new ordinance in Christ requires the whole law summed in a single commandment "love your neighbour as yourself" (v 14); it does not excuse you from loving the neighbour who might have hurt or offended you; it does not excuse you from loving the neighbour whose offense you may have imagined.

"By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, competing against one another, envying one another." -from Galatians 5. We do not have self-control when we are controlled by our reactions to old hurts, old protective ways of thinking and being, when we have on old armour that pre-dates our birth in Christ.

Ephesians 4 offers some further insight into what it means to be born new in Christ ... and likens this new life to a process of growing up. It is not a binary thing: yesterday i was a scumbag but today I'm born again and I am no longer a scumbag. It takes time for the old scumminess to wash off ... leaving a clean and shiney heart. It takes time and effort. Jesus sets for us an example, and when we are called to Him, part of taking up our cross and following Him is having the daily bath, washing off the old scumminess with the daily new scumminess that wants to attach itself to us every single day. Each day, like we eat food and breathe to live, we must tidy house a little in Christ to draw closer and closer. It is a process, not a moment. God waits for us patiently in each moment.

We live in a world and time of legalistic balance. Jesus teaches us how to unbalance the scales, matching hate with love instead of matching hate with an equal portion of hate. Think about what would happen in the world if a nation that felt attacked by another nation offered AID instead of WAR? Suppose the USA had said "lets love up those people who bombed our twin towers instead of following their example of hatred" (read between the lines - I don't subscribe to anything US media puts out there but is a point I'm trying to make). Suppose last year, instead of sending in troops, the Jamaican government had sent in a peace keeping force of brothers and sisters in Christ into Tivoli Gardens? Or better yet, sent them in with food and money ... with AID to dis-arm the most effective control that any don might have had over the area? For future reference, if everybody got some education and opportunity up in the place, do you think they would barricade up again and cause another state of emergency again? If we are Christians, we are called upon to model this unbalancing method. It is kind of ayurvedic in it's nature.

Reminds me of how most women who wear bras learn how to remove their bras from under a t-shirt or blouse without taking the t-shirt or blouse off. I don't think our baptism in Christ means we put on an armour that displaces all other armour. It's more like we pull on an armour over whatever else we had on. But as we get more comfortable (or uncomfortable as the case may be) within the Christian armour we realize we can take some of the other stuff off ... and kindof pull it through a sleeve like a bra being taken off after a long day!

Getting back to Ephesians 4, I like this part: "We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knitted together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love." - this part says to me, don't be afraid to take the bra off, for you have a bigger armour and a bigger more able support system in Christ!

More importantly though, this piece of Ephesians reminds us of the part we have in a bigger body, and brings me back to the reflection on the roles of the various parts of the body. Who, but Christ, can join and knit together all of us so that, in unison we can promote the body's growth in love? The analogy of the community of believers to the body of Christ repeats in the New Testament (and I think has some presence in the Old Testament too) anyway it is a *critical* analogy for us to embrace ... for different parts of the body have different roles.

When we go to scrub ourselves of old scumminess that followed along with us into our lives in Christ, we might encounter places where we think we are mucky because other Christians do not act, think, believe or feel in the same way we do ... I struggle with this a lot and the biggest challenge of the struggle sometimes is knowing when to stop scrubbing. Sometimes we have gotten down to our skin below the armour in Christ. And where skin meets armour, is the person God meant me to be as an individual. Resentments, hurts, angers can be scrubbed away. But muscle, sinew, skin, and armhairs can stay :) We must not try and scrub off our skin, our selfness entirely - for God has designed each of us individually to be exactly ourselves. The Bible is not telling us to be cookie cutter, but to take our place within a body in which each part plays a role for which it is uniquely designed.

So God gives us a heart, at birth we have it. In the course of life it might get hardened. Jesus is like heart tenderizer ... he is here to help undo some of that hardness of heart, to help re-balance the body that has gone out of whack (eg grown lumps in the neck etc). With Jesus, we can have the courage to love, whereas otherwise we might have tended to want instead to be safe and secure with hardened hearts impervious to the beauty of giving and loving. It's pretty cool.

Ephesians 4 also reminds us that different parts of the body have both positive and not so positive uses. The thing is not to chop off a hand that once stole, or a mind that once ruled the entire body ... but rather to bring the parts into harmony with each other - or balance (again something which ayurvedic practices, traditional chinese medicine, traditional Aboriginal spiritual practice and many aspects of Buddhist meditation focus on - balance and wholeness).

"Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labour and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear." (v 26-29). Jesus not only tenderizes the heart but gives us permission to use our hands, our mouths, our minds for honest labour, building each other up, helping, healing, caring, in short "loving our neighbours". I think I like this Ephesians 4 quite a bit.

I like the visual of the armour for two reasons: it speaks to protection and safety which we are assured of in faith ... the armour of Jesus is the refuge and fortress which Christians take in the Lord. (Psalm 91). It is also the suiting that allows us to go out into the world of human checks and balances and create a new imbalance by pouring out our own love, manifesting by our faith and action in and through our faith, the image of God within us ... we are guaranteed in Psalm 91, we are guaranteed protection:

"For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the adder,
the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot."

We are assured that it is safe to get naked under the armour of Christ, and to go out into a world where hate balances or overbalances love, and pour out the love of Christ made manifest in us, in our armour - to pour it out into the world.

Phone numbers page

• Janaki Bandara 876-xxx-yyyzz
• John Doe 654-uhn-jstt

(this is a test page to help Vivian look at options for posting her phone list).

On the Struggle to Let Go

God it is so easy to turn away from you when I don't want to accept the thing you have given me, that path that you gently nudge me to walk.

You have walked me along a journey God,

walked me down a path through nothingness ...

You walked me through a process of letting go, of home, of relationship, of financial stability, of loved ones, of family.

You walked me through a relationship where a business grew into prosperity, and the status symbols of success began to appear ... then there was a junction, an ethical junction that called me to respond from the visceral knowledge of what is right ... but you prepared me Lord, you prepared me to let go of trappings by bringing me in my journey to Christ.

My life such as I knew it fell apart.

When I dropped to my knees and put my very face to the ground,

your own self-made bridge: Jesus - He is the one who came to me,

whose hand I took and stood up again, on legs scarce capable of supporting me.

You brought me from a huddled lump on the ground,

weeping,

wanting death,

to a standing, running, breathing, live-loving place again.

God you brought me through Jamaica in 2009,

through the summer of 2009 with all its angers, griefs and unsureness.

You brought me to seminary: through scripture unfolding, through a clinical understanding of my own spiritual journey - from the first memories I have of myself -

a child digging dirt in a yard talking with you while making mud-pies.

You brought me with love God,

out of the church street home of James and Ange, clothed in love and friendship, to my home with the Arnolds ...

To my own home again, replete with space, light and love.

I do not misunderstand you God;

YOU are my faithful, loving providing God:

Your arms,

Your hands,

They hold me in all times and in all places.

When I struggle to hold on to a thorny branch,

A rotting branch, a breaking limb...

You wait patiently to catch me -

To envelope me into a new reality, a reality more bountiful and enriching than the old -

a new reality that will teach me about abundance in ways the thorny, breaking branch could never do.

My muscles are puny, weak, irrelevant things beside the strength and rigour you offer.

The thing I hold on to is always less than,

will always be less than the glory you have in mind for me.

The peace I seek to make for myself in the world

cannot even begin to measure up to YOUR PEACE that surpasses all understanding -

the peace that goes beyond mortal, somatic, bodily assurity and rests

like a gently landed dove on the deepest places of the soul.

You have blessed me God indeed ...

you have provided me with dreams and visions along the way that I may know with surety your presence in my life.

You have lifted my darkness with light,

obliterating my ignorance with dreams of humming birds, hanging flowers, and the diligence of the nectar-loving small bird that cannot pierce but must surely, slowly and laboriously make its way to your sweet love by crawling into the very heart of the flower, footstep by footstep.

You have shown me God how you see people, all people, as light,

regardless of the darkness they hold within.

You have shown me love - your love -

with gentleness and joy you have taken me as your beloved one

when I was most broken and depleted.

No fences, roads, heights or depths separate me any longer from you God.

You love me even when I am a brat who holds stubbornly to my own way, my own will,

after praying into the night on bended knee,

earnestly,

for your will in my life!

You smile the faithful, knowing smile of a patient father who knows my tantrum arises from the fears of my own terrifying experiences of hurt, heartbrokenness - at the hands of mortals, egos, whims and false realities,

mere facades of the popular common readership and audience.

You present me with a path and a lamp at my feet, and you patiently, faithfully await the passing of my fearful clinging to the old, thorny, rotting, broken branch to which I cling -

my feet dangling in mid-air with nothing against which to find purchase.

Blood runs down my arms as the thorns pierce my foolish, faithlessly clinging hand.

I cry, kicking the air in my frustration.

I am foolish God ... so foolish ... and my foolishness prolongs my suffering.

Wormwood smiles a satisfied smile, for I so effectively torture myself by hanging on.

Your fingers brush the tears from my cheeks,

your free hand moved the hair off my forehead, out of my eyes - my sweaty, desperately clumping hair.

Your lips kiss my forehead with an assurance:

you are there.

Even in my fucked up, foolish, fearful, faithless, unwillingness to let you,

you are there.

You whisper in my ear: "my child, my daughter, your hands are bleeding, your muscles aching because you hold to the false security of a thorny, rotting, broken branch. I know you. You are my beloved. Hold on until yu are ready to let go. I am here for you. My own bleeding hands will dress yours when you are ready to let go. Or when you weary of fear and simply cannot hold on to your false security anymore. I am here my beloved; I am here."

I feel your gentle exhalation against my ear.

The patient sigh of a loving father,

waiting for His child to come to her dimwitted senses.

I know without a doubt that you are there,

with a journey more abundant in blessings awaiting me.

I know you will give me the time to recuperate.

You will build me up for the journey you have in mind.

I know your will in my life will bring me to my fullest flowering in your image and likeness.

I know you see me as light;

I know you see all your broken, wounded, patched up, fucked up children as luminous light, your own light, each and every one.

I know only you can bring me into being the light you see in me ... only in oneness with you can I lose the noneness of me.

Thank you God, for loving me so, for loving me as I hold hardheadedly to the old, thorny, broken branch, as I pray for the courage to let go.

Thank you God for being my patient, loving, understanding God

my God who gets me,

the God understanding of me.

Foolish Child of a Loving Father

I do not misunderstand you God - you are my faithgful, loving, providing God; your arms, your hands, they hold me in all times and in all places. When I struggle to hold on to a thorny rotting limb, a breaking branch, you wait patiently to catch me - to envelope me into a new reality, a reality more bountiful and enriching than the old - a new reality which will teach me about abundance in ways the thorny, rotting, breaking branch could never do.

My muscles are puny, weak, irrelvant things beside the strength and rigour you offer.