Friendship

Place

"But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16).

Isolated, wild places have always been spiritual places to me, and they have been the source of some of my most profound experiences of life and faith. I find it difficult to explain the sense of life and perspective that comes from removing myself from the busyness of city and planting myself in the midst of wild beauty.

I find God in those places.

It's not that he isn't among us in the Denver metro area. I've experienced his presence in the classroom and the living room, in traffic jams and coffee houses, in large crowds and one-on-one street corner conversations. Nor does he exist only in trees and rock and landscape since none of those natural things actually are God, but I can certainly touch, feel, and smell the creativity of God and be reminded of my place in his universe.

I suppose it's not that I find God in the desert or on the mountain, but I am certainly better tuned to hear the whispering of his spirit when everything that distracts or drowns is gone. I enjoy being stripped of all that is artificial and man-made only to sit exposed, raw, and real before him and without all those "things" upon which I have built my life. I can sit alone with my thoughts and sense the straightening-out that God alone can do when we take the time to be one on one.

He restores my soul.

When I am in the wild places, I go there in the tradition of the Desert Fathers, the Apostles, the Patriarchs, the Prophets, and Jesus -- all of whom went to wild places to commune with God stripped from distraction. They, too, knew the value of those lonely places and were nourished by every word that came from the mouth of God!

A couple weeks back, I joined my friend Jonathon in the Great Basin Desert on the Utah/Nevada state line. As we were driving along US 50, we came across a large, dry lake bed that seemed to stretch for nearly 30 miles. Never satisfied with staying on the main road, we took a diversion and headed out into the desert to find access to this fascinating landscape. Upon reaching the edge of this ancient lake bed, we left the truck behind and walked.

Surrounded by this vast expanse, I was keenly aware that I was but one small dot. I felt small but significant. I thought about those things which seem to loom large over my life, and standing in this great, open landscape seemed to put even those things into perspective.

Perspective.

Peace.

Presence.

I felt the ministry of God's spirit in that place, if only for a moment. A moment was all I needed.

Those solitary places are important to me, and so are the people with whom I share my life. Through both people and place, the Father continues to meet me.

In the next article, I will write about how I feel God meets me in service.

Opposite

People

"While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and 'sinners' came and ate with him and his disciples" (Mt. 9:10).

When I was a child and on up through my teen years and beyond, I was afraid of people due to a lack of self-confidence and a deep-seeded insecurity that I'm sure sprung from my fatherlessness. My fear of people, consequently, kept me at a distance and made it rather difficult to establish deep, connected relationships with others unless they were willing to go the extra mile to meet me. I spent a lot of my early years missing out on substance and depth and the life-giving good stuff that comes from those inter-personal connections.

The writer of the Psalms says, "God sets the lonely in families" (68:6), and that has certainly been the story of my life. Even before I knew the significance of deep, connected human relationships, God began placing significant people in my life and began the process of healing even while I was unaware. I recognize the sacred, strategic placement of specific people in my childhood who I am certain brought the incarnational touch of God into my life. Fast forward to the present day, and God continues to meet me in such a way.

I believe as a follower of Christ matures, there begins a necessary outward focus of one's life. While we continue to receive the Father's ministry in our own lives, we are compelled by the Spirit of Christ within us to love and serve others as Christ. For me, this means that where God served me, I am serving others; the place where God met me, I meet others.

It is in the presence of people that I have some of my most profound, spiritual experiences.

When we take the time to be with people, I believe the Spirit of God is present whether I am with other believers or not. Where I go, he goes, and that gives every human interaction the potential for sacred significance. Those hundreds of daily interactions with students, friends, neighbors, family, and strangers become substantial as we bring the presence of God into their lives and deposit something of worth and value. I am keenly aware of this potential everyday as I seek to serve my students...

Where I go, he goes.

Incarnation.

The Spirit of God connecting with flesh and blood.

What a novel idea!

I've got a lot of time for people, and I enjoy those expected and unexpected interactions with others. It's satisfying to be with people and recognize the imprint of the Creator in their soul and enjoy their company as Jesus enjoyed the company of those whose tables he gathered around. It's good, also, to recognize my dependence on others and to be reminded of my dependence upon God. As I seek to follow Christ, I know now more than ever my need for interdependence and to trust his work in my life through those who come close. I do not want to live outside of this community.

Although there are times when I appreciate and need solitude and quiet places, I will not dismiss my call to come along side people and to allow the Father to do the same in my life through others.

In the next article, I will explore how I believe God meets me in place.

Dirty

Contact

"We are spiritual beings on a human journey."

I had a lot of time to myself over the weekend as I traveled 17 hours round trip to spend some time with a friend of mine. As if by design, my CD player in my truck quit working at the time I was crossing 500 miles of desert with few people in need of any sort of radio station. Consequently, I was left with my own thoughts and the ever-invading presence of God.

Not that I minded.

It was a great weekend, one of those weekends that refreshed and replenished what my normal day-to-day living can take out of me. In between the random John Denver and Pete Seeger songs that I couldn't get out of my head, I found myself thinking about some of my deepest and most profound spiritual experiences. When I say "spiritual experience", I am not talking about some artificially LSD induced euphoria or a sensational moment of enlightenment, but I refer to those places where I believe God continually meets me, those places where I sense a closeness to God.

Contact.

Although I've been warmed in the embrace of God through prayer and meditation, I've seen the miraculous before my eyes, and I've fallen on my face when confronted with painful life lessons, I realize that my most substantial moments of spiritual formation didn't come through the most common or even expected of Christian conduits. Those deep, inner moments of significance with God in my life have been primarily built around the frameworks of people and place, scripture and service.

Some would say that our experiences with God should be similar and uniform, and so they prescribe rituals and traditions to help their people embrace God and experience a sense of his presence. One of my most profound spiritual experiences comes through the ordinance of feet washing according to John 13 and as practiced among many congregations and Christian communities.

While I value the place of tradition, I'm not so convinced that simply following prescribed formulas produce great moments with God. They may or they may not. How often have I heard the following formula as the path to God: read the bible + pray + go to church + don't sin = success in the Christian life! How many believers have followed that formula only to feel disenfranchised, disappointed, and distant from God and then be told to read more, pray more, attend more services, and sin even less.

Most of those profound moments with God have been outside the sanctuary (or even the sanctioned).

While I value the spiritual disciplines, I sometimes wonder if God isn't a bit more creative in how he chooses to approach us and connect with us. What else can explain his presence at the table, or the encounter on the street with a homeless man that leaves me feeling as though I had just served Christ, or the peace with God I get in the middle of the wilderness? He knows our language, and he knows our need. I'm sure he knows just how to connect.

I am going to take some time to write about those four places where I believe God continually connects with me in the next few articles.

Ego

Hear

"It's a rare person to hear what he doesn't want to hear" (Dick Cavett).

Ego is a powerful thing. And when it is shouting, it is hard to hear the voice of God above it.

Our headlines have been full of people who claim to speak for God but carry little evidence that they have actually heard God. We have, again, been witness to man's ego attempting to usurp God's Kingdom, and when that happens, destruction follows. All sorts of evils can be unleashed by the tongue of a man who dares to misrepresent God. "Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark" (James 3:5). Though a small spark, things can quickly become enflamed by the winds of modern, global communication. A small man can do great harm.

It wasn't too many years ago that the damage of words was limited to word of mouth. We'd gossip at church or speak ill of our neighbor or call each other names on the playground, but the damage never went very far. Today, a small man leading his miniature empire of 50 people can stir up winds of unrest and hatred the world over. Suddenly, our words have become much more significant.

And dangerous.

It's easy for the self to take over and do the convincing that we are speaking on behalf of God. This is nothing new, however, since the biblical record is full of the stories of false prophets. Although they unleashed damage, false prophets were usually "taken care of" by either God's people or God himself. In our latest example of a man who does not speak for God, we can only hope that the voices of God's people will be heard above his.

I appreciate and respect words, and I love to write them. I know many of the people who read this blog from time to time, and many of them are people I know and trust. Some of them are people with whom I would disagree on a few things here and there, but they are important to me nonetheless. When I write, I think about them. My conscience keeps me aware of my brothers and sisters in faith, and their unwitting presence in my writings keeps me accountable. I know I must think very thoroughly about what I write, and their distant presence in my life causes me to go again and again to the scriptures we love. I do not want to misrepresent.

As a teacher (and husband and friend and pastor, etc.), I know how incredibly destructive words can be. I do those in my life a great disservice when I forget the power of my words and use them for harm. How many people carry with them the scars of wounding words? How much damage has been done by those responsible for speaking life but have instead spoken words of death and destruction?

The false prophets will always be with us (and they will be shouting). How much more important is it that we hear the true Voice of God and speak words of life?

"If I speak in the tongues of men and angels but have not love, I am only a noisy gong or clanging cymbal."

I Corinthians 13:1

Mouth