I was recently challenged to live Levitically for one month. Basically, that meant to take the law of the Old Testament, and make it relevant for today. This also meant looking at what the law meant then, and translate it to now. Here are some thoughts on my journey...
Living Levitically seemed like a challenge as well as a transformational exercise. I found this to be true on both accounts. Having experienced transformation through the use of various spiritual disciplines, I had an idea of what might transpire. Looking back, I expected some sort of change in me, some healing of sorts. After all, you do the work, God gives the blessing, right? To no longer hear the siren call beckon me into behavior that is less than valiant: those annoying, potential dangerous actions that I have used as defense mechanisms to keep myself safe over the years.
I further expected a change in how I viewed God. I thought if I did this, I would be blessed. Looking back, it seems a bit formula-matic. “Do something cool, God blesses.” Nice mantra, but I do not know how accurate it really is. Otherwise, it would be a sure fire way of controlling God. What I found was that even in my inability to “do something cool,” God still blessed. I feel like Jacob.
Jacob had an amazing blessing come to him through Abraham and Isaac. And yet, he continually made choices (even deceptive ones) that sought to get him a “different” blessing, one that was in the example of Esau, not his. In doing this, he never appears to experience the blessing Yahweh has for him, until he wrestles all night long, with God.
“The law is not a job description but is a doctor’s prescription.” D.P. Fuller, The Unity of the Bible, Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 1992). The law helps us understand what it looks like to live in the world as the people of Yahweh. When we do certain actions, we can be reminded of their representation or we can just do the act void of meaning. It is not only the intention of choosing how I experience the action, but also being mindful of what it means to the person looking on, in Israel’s case: the nations. On one side I use the object lesson as somewhat of a memory trigger, to help me remember God and his faithfulness. For many years, I thought doing the “discipline,” as ritual, accomplished nothing. As I have studied in other disciplines this year, I have realized we are wired in a way where those actions are formative, even when we do not fully understand them. A discipline, whether we fully understand it or not, forms us. The law, the way of being with the world as the people of God, forms us as well.
To be continued....
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
a line in the sand.
To say I need to learn to practice differentiation even more than I do, is an understatement. Differentiation is the ability to know where I end and another starts. It is the line in the sand: one side of the line is my "stuff" and on the other side is your "stuff." Now this "stuff" can be the things we want to hang onto, and other "stuff" may consist of things of which we may want to let go. I am referring to the second kind: the "stuff" I do not want to keep. I frankly have enough of that sort of "stuff" on my side of the line, I am not sure why I'd voluntarily move on the other side of the line and get involved in the "stuff" of others, but dang if I don't do it. The "differentiation project" is to know my own stuff, and not let the line in the sand blur too much or get taken out by high tide. Back to my opening statement...
I need to learn to more effectively how to draw a nice, healthy line in the sand. Sometimes I can do it pretty well, and other times, I realize the tide has washed my line away and I am in the midst of not knowing where to stand, feeling my feet sink deeper and deeper into what resembles the quick sand of relationships.
When does this happen?
~ When a family member comes home, tired and grumpy and I think, "what did I do?"
~When my friend tells me that anyone who believes _X_, is an idiot. Unbeknownst to them, I fall into that category, and so, I am by default, one of those "idiots."
~When my boss tells me in no uncertain terms how inadequate I am.
All of these scenarios are invitations. They invite me to believe I am at fault, an idiot and/or inadequate. Or, they invite me to wonder if there is any credence to the statements. Or, finally, perhaps they invite me to dig a deeper line in the sand and remember that there are grumpy, tired people in the world who are looking for the "inadequate" and "idiots" because identifying those folks help them deal with their own anxiety. And, sometimes I do that too.
Like I said, I need to practice differentiation.
I need to learn to more effectively how to draw a nice, healthy line in the sand. Sometimes I can do it pretty well, and other times, I realize the tide has washed my line away and I am in the midst of not knowing where to stand, feeling my feet sink deeper and deeper into what resembles the quick sand of relationships.
When does this happen?
~ When a family member comes home, tired and grumpy and I think, "what did I do?"
~When my friend tells me that anyone who believes _X_, is an idiot. Unbeknownst to them, I fall into that category, and so, I am by default, one of those "idiots."
~When my boss tells me in no uncertain terms how inadequate I am.
All of these scenarios are invitations. They invite me to believe I am at fault, an idiot and/or inadequate. Or, they invite me to wonder if there is any credence to the statements. Or, finally, perhaps they invite me to dig a deeper line in the sand and remember that there are grumpy, tired people in the world who are looking for the "inadequate" and "idiots" because identifying those folks help them deal with their own anxiety. And, sometimes I do that too.
Like I said, I need to practice differentiation.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
waiting by the well
We were getting ready for bed. It was already a bit later than our normal bedtime and both of us needed to get up very early the next morning. Going into the bathroom faucet, I couldn’t wait to run the water, brush my teeth and wash my face. The next step was bed, where I would allow my head to hit the pillow: I could barely wait. As I turned the tap, instead of the normal rush of cool, refreshing water, I encountered sputtering and spitting. No water. None. I grabbed my husband, and we went down stairs and stared at the water tank.
It might be helpful to know we live in the country, so our water comes directly from a deep well, via a pump. The benefits are, we have no monthly water bill, and we can use as much as we want, whenever we want. Water bans have no impact on our gardens. The challenge can be, if the water is not running, then there is no “city office” to call for a fix. We call the well man, who comes out, fixes the problem and hands us a nice, fat bill for his service.
Back to the story…we stood staring at the well tank. Then we looked at each other, back at the tank, and both stated something like, “dang.” After we realized that staring at each other, or the tank, while entertaining, was not helpful to the situation. Gary went out to the shed to gather supplies, and I headed to the gas station to buy out their supply on water, after all, we all had to shower the next day. When I returned, Gary was at work on the tank. We were both hoping it simply needed more air pressure, but knew it was something more challenging.
Stress has already been knocking on our door of our present lives. So, neither of us needed, or desired an addition of any more. I didn’t sleep well, and ended up getting up even earlier than needed. So, after having gone to bed after midnight, tossing and turning for a few hours, about 3:45 am my feet landed on the floor, and I padded out to the front room. When I came to the living room, the words that came to mind where, “The house feels dead, without life.”
It felt as if the fact we didn’t have water, somehow equated to not having life within the walls of the house. We can not cook, care for ourselves, get rid of our waste, clean the house, and many more things. Water is vital to our life. Life can not continue without water. It is amazing how often, when you do not have water, you still walk to the faucet, turn the knob and expect something to come out. Water gives us life in ways that we do not even realize.
I recently studied a story in the Gospel of John, in the (Christian) scriptures. The story was of a man asked a woman for water. He continued saying while she understood water coming from a well, he had the ability to offer “living water.” He wasn’t only saying that living water was good, but that he was it! He was (and is) the living water, of which she could drink and never thirst against. It isn’t physical water to which he referred, he spoke of a water that quenched the thirst of her soul. If you are unfamiliar with the story, this man was Christ, the Son of God, who had come to earth in human form to restore his creation to himself.
Thinking about this story, and experiencing the lack of physical water invited me to look at Christ’s words differently. 1) I wonder if at times I forget what it means to have the living water flow through my life: just as I can take for granted the water coming out of the faucet. 2) I realize it is always there, and that I have access to it. 3) I think about what it might be like to not have it in my life. 4) I ponder the number of folks who do not realize that there is living water to which they too, can have access, so that their soul would no longer thirst. My house may feel dead without the water flowing, however I know that for me, this is a temporary problem. However, to have a dry, thirsty soul, that lacks living water is tragic, especially when the flow is available.
We called the well man, who came out, and fixed our problem. We now have fresh, cold, water running through the veins of the house, spilling out at whatever tap we chose to use. And, the big, fat bill wasn’t as big and fat, as we had feared. So, all is “well.” However, in the meanwhile, this process has gotten me to remember to be intentional about watching the living water move within me, and enjoying the mystery of how it works.
It might be helpful to know we live in the country, so our water comes directly from a deep well, via a pump. The benefits are, we have no monthly water bill, and we can use as much as we want, whenever we want. Water bans have no impact on our gardens. The challenge can be, if the water is not running, then there is no “city office” to call for a fix. We call the well man, who comes out, fixes the problem and hands us a nice, fat bill for his service.
Back to the story…we stood staring at the well tank. Then we looked at each other, back at the tank, and both stated something like, “dang.” After we realized that staring at each other, or the tank, while entertaining, was not helpful to the situation. Gary went out to the shed to gather supplies, and I headed to the gas station to buy out their supply on water, after all, we all had to shower the next day. When I returned, Gary was at work on the tank. We were both hoping it simply needed more air pressure, but knew it was something more challenging.
Stress has already been knocking on our door of our present lives. So, neither of us needed, or desired an addition of any more. I didn’t sleep well, and ended up getting up even earlier than needed. So, after having gone to bed after midnight, tossing and turning for a few hours, about 3:45 am my feet landed on the floor, and I padded out to the front room. When I came to the living room, the words that came to mind where, “The house feels dead, without life.”
It felt as if the fact we didn’t have water, somehow equated to not having life within the walls of the house. We can not cook, care for ourselves, get rid of our waste, clean the house, and many more things. Water is vital to our life. Life can not continue without water. It is amazing how often, when you do not have water, you still walk to the faucet, turn the knob and expect something to come out. Water gives us life in ways that we do not even realize.
I recently studied a story in the Gospel of John, in the (Christian) scriptures. The story was of a man asked a woman for water. He continued saying while she understood water coming from a well, he had the ability to offer “living water.” He wasn’t only saying that living water was good, but that he was it! He was (and is) the living water, of which she could drink and never thirst against. It isn’t physical water to which he referred, he spoke of a water that quenched the thirst of her soul. If you are unfamiliar with the story, this man was Christ, the Son of God, who had come to earth in human form to restore his creation to himself.
Thinking about this story, and experiencing the lack of physical water invited me to look at Christ’s words differently. 1) I wonder if at times I forget what it means to have the living water flow through my life: just as I can take for granted the water coming out of the faucet. 2) I realize it is always there, and that I have access to it. 3) I think about what it might be like to not have it in my life. 4) I ponder the number of folks who do not realize that there is living water to which they too, can have access, so that their soul would no longer thirst. My house may feel dead without the water flowing, however I know that for me, this is a temporary problem. However, to have a dry, thirsty soul, that lacks living water is tragic, especially when the flow is available.
We called the well man, who came out, and fixed our problem. We now have fresh, cold, water running through the veins of the house, spilling out at whatever tap we chose to use. And, the big, fat bill wasn’t as big and fat, as we had feared. So, all is “well.” However, in the meanwhile, this process has gotten me to remember to be intentional about watching the living water move within me, and enjoying the mystery of how it works.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)