Sorrow and Love

It’s Lent. In fact, this is Passion Week. All around the world people are telling the stories of a man on a donkey, with his friends sharing a meal, betrayal, death and resurrection. This story that we enter into is rich and offers more than just the scene of Jesus nailed to a cross. I hope and pray that you worship in a community that practices the church calendar in a way that gives proper reverence and relevance to the seasons that have been observed by believers for thousands of years. This rhythm has shaped the dynamic of how the Church intentionally worships God in the width of the spectrum that is His character. I withhold saying the fullness of the spectrum because of our limitations in understanding, not His in sharing.

Lent is the season from Ash Wednesday to Easter. It’s the time of the year where we contemplate the road to the Cross- both the circumstances in Christ’s life and those in our own. Many fast or engage in other acts of penance during this season.

Seminary life affords a peculiar type of humor: nerdy theological humor that would make most Christians groan. One joke that is regularly punted around is that the perfect seminary answer is “both/and.” We spend our days exploring the mysterious paradox that is our God and the way He works. Is He loving or just? Yes. Both/And. Are we free or chosen? Yes. Both/And. Am I saved for the afterlife or the present life? Yes. Both/And. Am I healed and made whole in the afterlife or in the present life? Yes. Both/And. Is God one or three? Yes. Both/And. Was Jesus divine or human? Yes. Both/And. Our job is to joyfully proclaim the mystery of God, holding high both sides of truth. Today I was struck by one of these Both/And statements.

I am lucky enough to worship immersed in a community that is giving this season due attention. We have joined the saints before us in pausing to consider what the road to the Cross was/is like. Today in chapel we sang Tomlin’s version of The Wonderful Cross. Have you every considered these words...

See from his head, his hands, his feet

Sorrow and love flow mingled down

Did ever such love and sorrow meet

Or thorns compose so rich a crown

Have you sat with them? Have you allowed them to seep into your dark places? Yes! The Cross is a loving place. And Jesus bore that Cross because of love for you, for me, for humanity, for creation. He took on the pain, consequences, and separation from the Father that our sinfulness and brokenness created because of extravagant love.

BUT. He acted equally out of sorrow as He did out of love.

Yes. Both/And.

Whoa.

What does the sorrow of our Lord mean? What is He sorrowful for? He hates our sin. Yes. But, I think he hates what sin does to us just as much. He hates the pain that it causes. He hates the consequences. He hates the separation that it creates between the Father and us. He hates the brokenness. He hurts because of our pain. The cross was sorrowful because it wasn’t necessary. He grieves because he wants to protect us from the pain, but we chose it anyway. We choose it anyway. Sorrow and love are related. Have you ever watched a mother run to a child that has fallen down? Have you ever watched a husband beside the bed of his dying wife? Have you ever seen a child cry as they buried a pet? Sorrow and love are related. We are created in the image of God. Praise be our God!

This Easter, may you see the sorrow of the Cross as it mingles with the love of the Cross.

Sound Track: The Wonderful Cross, Chris Tomlin, *see below.

"The Wonderful Cross"

When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of Glory died

My richest gain I count but loss

And pour contempt on all my pride

See from his head, his hands, his feet

Sorrow and love flow mingled down

Did ever such love and sorrow meet

Or thorns compose so rich a crown

O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross

Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live

O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross

All who gather here by grace draw near and bless Your name

Were the whole realm of nature mine

That were an offering far too small

Love so amazing, so divine

Demands my soul, my life, my all

Snowblind

Friday night it snowed here in Kentucky. I love everything about snow. I'm sure that it is the little Georgia girl in me dying to get out. She only got to play in the snow on very rare occasions, and even when that happened it was for too short of a time. I never exhausted my play time in the snow. Even now, I can't find a way to muster up a disdain for driving and living in the snow. I know that it is an inconvenience, but the magic is so much bigger than that. I love the way the cold catches your breath. I love the way it captures your mind. There are no thoughts when you stand in the middle of snow but the snow itself. There is something inherently playful about snow, even though it is powerfully dangerous.

But, the thought on my mind tonight is how a snow storm happens in what feels like an instant. You go to bed one night in the green lush of grass and trees even a palette of color. And you wake to a transformed world of stark white. Then, we are left dealing with the ramifications there after. What we wear, how we drive, what we do, and so much of our day to day lives adjust because of this outside event. We can't change it; we simply must deal with it.

Isn't that how life happens? One moment falls, and we find ourselves scrambling to reorient ourselves inside this new reality. Whether your snow fall was a car crash, cancer, death, a move, a broken relationship, a lost job, or simple disappointment; may you find a way to see the snow for what it is. Snow changes our lives. But, it waters the ground that will one day thaw and give way to the new life coming in the spring. Beware of the dangers of the cold, but enjoy what is beautiful about the snow when it surrounds you.

What was Mary feeling when she was informed that she was to give birth? Peter when he heard the rooster crow? Paul standing there blinded on Damascus? Jesus walking toward the cross?

Soundtrack: Let it Snow

identity crisis

I have worn black to church every Sunday for the last four weeks. My bulldogs aren't doing well this year, and I wear black to mourn our loss the night before. I am a loyal fan. I am an alumna. Rooting for, fighting for, believing in the bulldogs is a part of my identity. (As much as anything temporal can be.) I will be a bulldog until the day I die. Proudly. We could loose every game from now until that day, and I would still tune in and cheer for my team. I would continue to celebrate the successes, no matter how minor, and mourn our losses no matter how major. Loyalty runs deep when you find yourself in the SEC. This commitment is the kind of loyalty that changes behavior, shapes values, and affects my mood.

On any given Sunday in the south you will find some pastor making the comparison of football as a religion because of the deep truth to it. We can rightly affirm that everything about a Saturday at Sanford Stadium is religious. From tailgating, wearing red and black, to ringing the victory bell; we have a liturgy, and it is followed religiously. I am pretty sure we could call the day my New Student Orientation leader had our group call the dawgs on the steps of the Tate Student Center in the shadows of Sanford Stadium a ritual of initiation.

As I reflect on the disappointment I have experienced this season I recognize similar reactions, feelings, and responses in my person to disappointments that I have had in my spiritual life.

We are given a new identity in Christ when we give our lives over to him. What happens when things do not follow the pattern we expected? What happens when we are disappointed by our God? Have we allowed the identity to so form us that our faith remains? Can we believe that there are no circumstances that could rock the foundation of our commitment to the Lord? Does your relationship with the Lord change your behavior, shape your values, and affect your feelings?

As I look back over this I am burdened to point out that I am not advocating for absolute blind faith, but instead I am encouraging us to walk in the faith that we have. I trust the submission of our lives to the Lord came with an appropriate season of testing and critical analysis. I wasn't born a UGA fan, but once I chose to be a bulldog, there was no turning back. That means I take the good with the bad as a fan, but as a Christian, true faith is commitment to the point of martyrdom if necessary, to singleness if necessary, to poverty if necessary, to disappointment if necessary. Faith is giving up one's own identity to join Jesus even to the cross for the sake of the world.

Soundtrack: Who let the dogs out, Baha Men; Glory Glory; & Sending, Charlie Hall.

three times the charm

Three times this week this passage has crossed my path:

Mark 10:46-52 NRSV

They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus, a blind beggar was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him,“Take heart, get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.

I have a way of stopping and paying attention when the Lord brings a passage of scripture into my life, particularly when he does it in triplicate. I have a way of stopping and paying attention when the Lord does anything in my life in triplicate. It's kind of hard to ignore or to pass off as coincidence.

I am taking Inductive Bible Study on the book of Mark, and we recently did a book survey. I spent some extra time with this passage as I considered how Mark employed the use of Jesus as "teacher" in his gospel. Then, Tuesday night in my lyric and theology class another student used this story as the basis of his song. Then today during Vocation of Ministry we read this passage when we were doing Lectio Divina in our small group. So, I'm paying attention.

The part that really jumps out at me immediately is that the blind man sprang up to Jesus. He knew who Jesus was, and was moved to exuberance. He was compelled to respond. No, not just respond. Do you see him, the eagerness? I see him leaping up. He probably stumbled getting over to Jesus. He was blind, you know. But the sense of abandonment and urgency compelled him.

And, I find it difficult to ignore the fact that Bartimaeus threw off his cloak. Anytime someone gets naked in the Bible i am intrigued. Not that I am advocating for nudity in church, mind you, but what would happen if encountering Christ meant that we let go of everything that covered up our shame? What if we let go of the things we put on to cover up ourselves? What if our hearts were naked before the Lord... So that when he asks us, "What do you want from me?" We can be real. What if we could be honest with the Lord about what we really want? What if we were aware of our brokenness in such an honest way?

In some private time with the Lord today he reminded me of my place in this passage. He reminded me that my prayer life regularly includes the phrase, "Have Mercy!" In fact, it may be the phrase that I write most frequently in my journal. You see, I know enough to know that I continue to find myself awake in the world that knew Lost Jill. Jill without Jesus resided on earth, and without HIM in my life everyday, I am still that person. I depend on His mercy for each day.

This of course gave way for new considerations of this passage. I find myself at a stage in life where I am actively responding to the call of God on my life. And, there are parts of that call that I find myself crying out to the Lord even louder for mercy. I need him to show up. He invites me closer, and I let go of the things that cover my shame to earnestly ask Him what I want. He is faithful, and He will make me whole in every way that I desire. This is our God.

I have spent time in my life wondering if I wasted years between college and seminary. I wondered if I missed something by needing the excursion. Here's what Tomlin says,

A refuge for the poor
A shelter from the storm,
This is our God.

He will wipe away your tears
And return your wasted years.
This is our God.


He's the God that wastes nothing!

Soundtrack: This is our God, Chris Tomlin

discipleship

My brother took his daughters to Disney World this week. The twins (Ella/Emma) are 5, having just started kindergarten, Ava is 3 and 1/2 (the 1/2 is important), and Allie will be 2 this week. They are at great ages to enter into the world of make-believe and story telling that Disney does so well. I forced my sister in law to post pictures of the trip ASAP because I would have LOVED to have been there when Ella met Cinderella or Emma plunged down Thunder Mountain. I have looked through them several times now, and something jumped out at me. Allie looks in one of 2 directions in pictures. 1 straight toward the camera like the ham her mother and aunt are or 2. toward her sisters. I can't help but consider what this says about our nature when we are most teachable and when we are most vulnerable. She had been thrust into a different world, quite literally, and in that space needed a point of reference. She needed to find what felt like home. She needed to feel safe while enjoying the newness. So, she looked toward her big sisters who have served as teachers and comforters in the 24 months of her life. Her eyes seem to ask a thousand questions: Is this OK? Why does everything look so different? Why are you so excited? Can you tell me that I'm safe? Why are we waiting so long? Why are you tired? What are we going to do next? When do we go home? How do I take some of this home with me?

What does that say about discipleship? Who are we looking toward as we navigate our journey with the Lord? When do we look at them? Are we in situations that feel foreign enough to need a reference point? Are you uncomfortable? Do you have people that the Lord uses to give you a sense of safety when you don't feel safe?








Soundtrack: It's a Small World Afterall

intimacy

Today was Convocation, and it was hectic. Some convocation services can best be described as frivolous and over indulgent. (I have never attended an ATS convocation service, so that comment is not a reflection on any institution. Rather, it is a comment on all convocation services around the world.) The prayer over today was that all that was done in Estes would capture our attention toward the vastness and greatness of our God. I believe that was accomplished.

I could talk about Dr. Tennent's sermon which embodied the direction of this institution, Missional Holiness. But, you really should just listen to it yourself.

http://www.asburyseminary.edu/chapel/kentucky-chapel Follow the instructions there. It may not be up yet, but check back in until you get a chance to listen.

I could talk about how overwhelmed I am that I get to do this. I get to worship in Estes 3 days a week. I get to participate in the execution of that worship. I get to use my gifts, the quirky culmination of how God created me, to His glory in the most satisfying ways.

I could talk about the thunderous roll of the organ.

But instead, I want to tell you about this little moment that I saw. I know other people saw it, but it was too good to keep to myself. Following Dr. Tennent's address we sang a new Hymn by the talented and humble Julie Tennent, Dr. Tennent's wife. It too was titled Missional Holiness. This is a team that shares a vision. She brought melody and he brought power to the vision and calling that they share. When we were completing the last stanza he looked over at her and just raised his eyebrows with a goofy grin. She smiled and dropped her head. The intimacy of their love for one another as it serves the Lord took my breath. Beautiful. The Lord created us to enjoy THIS kind of intimacy. May it be so in your life and in mine!

Soundtrack: Missional Holiness, Julie Tennent

Do This... The Meal is the Mission

One of my absolute favorite things about community life here at Asbury is the Reader. We join together and read scripture through a devotional during Kingdomtide and Lent. When I was taking classes online in Conyers, this was one of the things that made me feel connected to Wilmore, and as a writer I find the power of words, not just words but scripture, binding us together to be comforting. I have long believed that the written word holds a unique power in that it can minister despite time and space. For instance, YOU can participate in the Common Text Project with me even if you are in NYC; Oxford, England; Conyers, Georgia; Flowery Branch, Georgia; or Carmichaels, PA. As we prepare to return to school we are rolling out the Fall Reader which is titled Do This: The Meal is the Mission. I hope it is as a powerful a blessing to you as it has been to me. The posts will appear everyday at 12:01 am.

To join me in this journey. You can read it daily at:


http://www.asburyreader.com/


or, follow the link on that page to order a copy. I assure you that you will be blessed.


If a twittersized portion is all you can take follow us at:


http://twitter.com/Twiturgy


Soundtrack: My Drink, Charlie Hall

Holy.

Holy.



There is only one word. There is only one truth.



Holy.



He is.



He is Holy.



We can spend, no waste, all of our lives simply begining to want to think about his Holiness, and be fortunate to fail. The smoke fills the temple, and when we turn towards the temple, we can't help but be affected by it.



Nothing in Him is apart from His Holiness.



All that we know; all that we can't know is in His Holiness.



Justice is really just another way of saying God is Holy.



Love is an expression of the fact that God is Holy.



Grace exist because He is.



Holy.



He is Holy.



Holy.



Wholly what I am not. Wholly what I don't deserve. Wholly what I need.



Holy.



He is Holy.



Holy.



Soundtrack: Unchanging, Chris Tomlin

thanksgiving

I took Sacramental Theology with Dr. Robert Stamps and Dr. James Hart the second week of August. Luckily we had a paper in that class, so I won't bore you with ALL of my geeked-out thoughts and reflections from the material. However, it affected me and my understanding of who we are as Christians and what it means to worship the triune God in a continuous wave of inspiration. I find that this paradigm shift continues to bring new light to scripture, the activity of worship, and the way I frame my thoughts about God. Expect to continue to hear about this class over the next few months.

We read Alexander Schmemann's For the Life of the World. He said, " When man stands before the throne of God, when he has fulfilled all that God has given him to fulfill, when all sins are forgiven, all joy restored, then there is nothing else for him to do but to give thanks. Eucharist (thanksgiving) is the state of perfect man. Eucharist is the life of paradise. Eucharist is the only full and real response of man to God's creation redemption and gift of heaven. But this perfect man who stands before God is Christ."

Is that what you are thinking when going forward at communion? Are you thankful? Are you ever mindful of the cross? What would the church look like if we stopped trying to make worship about us? Why are we so preoccupied with the musical aspect of worship? What would happen if we became preoccupied with the proper way to celebrate the Eucharist? How would that attitude of thanksgiving permate the way we live our lives the rest of the week? Is it possible that our misunderstanding of the sacraments has led to a decline in the faithfulness of Christians? How does a low view of the Eucharist affect our theology? Grace requires a response, and thankfully we have a guide in how to respond to God’s grace through the sacraments. As we, the body of believers, respond the good news appropriately go forth, the faithful are strengthened and the lost drawn to Him.



Soundtrack: Priceless Treasure, Charlie Hall and Give Thanks to the Lord, Wesley Praise Band



Backpack:
Worship, Community & The Triune God of Grace; James Torrance
The Sacraments in Protestant Practice and Faith; James F. White
For the Life of the World, Alexander Schmeman
The Altar's Fire; Daniel B. Stevick

awareness of his presence

A friend told me a story this week. She said that she saw a couple planning to marry on a morning talk show. When they were pulling together childhood pictures for the obligatory slide show for the rehearsal dinner, the bride noticed something quite unexpected. There in the background of her posing at Disney World stood her now groom to be. The man with whom she would spend the rest of her life stood feet away from her long before she had the emotional, sociological, or developmental capacity to understand who and what he would be to her. How amazing. I can't help but relate this to our spiritual lives. How often do we find ourselves unable to recognize how our Great God is meeting us. He meets us in the ordinary. He meets us in the extraordinary. Every place that we don't expect him to be, he is there.

Please don't read that I consider her husband to be her savior, but instead see her unawareness of his presence. May we pause and confess our inabilities to recognize the presence of the Holy Spirit in situations that feel mundane and secular. May we learn to see the kingdom come!

Soundtrack: Been there before, Hanson