within us and all around

May 31st, 2010

advent. christmas. epiphany. lent. holy week. easter. pentecost.  this was our first year following the church calendar at our saturday gatherings as a community.  we are now entering into the season of ordinary time.  God is in the ordinary, the simple, the everyday rhythms of living out our life and faith.

the holy spirit is here with us, alive and well, to guide, strengthen, teach, comfort, challenge, and move us.

for pentecost we had 4 reflective stations focused on the 4 elements–earth, air, fire, and water.  this prayer closed our evening and hopefully is a reminder for all of us as we enter into the rhythm of summer and ordinary time that the Holy Spirit is within us and all around:

holy spirit.

within us, and all around.

underneath.

beside.

above.

through.

seen and unseen.

within us, and all around.

holy spirit.

as earth

as air

as water

as fire

strengthen us

mold us

shape us

infuse us

challenge us

comfort us

unite us

holy spirit

within us, and all around

we are the church.

we are your church.

we are alive

you are alive

within us, and all around.

SAGE - Happy Birthday, Church.

May 24th, 2010

Pentecost celebrates the birth of the church by the Holy Spirit, which came (just as Jesus promised that the Holy Spirit would be with us) to all of his followers in a common experience.

The timing of this is 50 days (Pentecost means “fiftieth” in Greek) after the resurrection of our Lord. It mirrors the Jewish feast of Shavuot which celebrates the Holy Spirit’s gift of the 10 commandments to the community 50 days after the Exodus.

Now this great wind of the Spirit happened after Jesus had shown up in the flesh after his resurrection, visited with folks, ate meals together, and loved on them and encouraged them, and “left” (his ascension into heaven).  At the Refuge a few Saturdays ago, Karl and Kathy pondered why Jesus didn’t just stick around after the resurrection. After all, he could have lived like a rock star!  But that was never what Jesus was about. Thru him (Immanuel, God with us), he gave us one another, in the presence of the Holy Spirit.  A gift that God is with us, with each other, thru each other, a gift we share among us and to the whole world.

I’ll drop it down a couple of gears here and be personal with this.  The theology and symbolism is very pretty, but what is my experience with this stuff?

I didn’t grow up expecting much of the Holy Spirit, or of the church, but had hope that they might be real in some way.  My first touch of the power of both of them came at my surprise 1st communion (age 10) with folks from a little Lutheran church on retreat in the woods, along with some Jesus freaks who had randomly showed up in a VW microbus.

Since that time I have had just a very few more very powerful and personal experiences of being touched by the Holy Spirit.  Every one was a complete surprise. One was an overwhelming revelation of the power and beauty of the Reality of God (the kind that brings you to your knees), and another an unbelievably fiery healing experience which was really strange.

Before my experiences, I had heard about stuff like that, but doubted that it was real.  Even if those things might be real, they probably wouldn’t happen to me-  I am too much of a skeptic.  But I have been touched and healed anyway, and I am grateful.   These things are personal, but they have turned me outward–into community.  It is not all about my “personal relationship with Jesus”.  Most of life is lived in normal time anyway, normal experience, and that is how it should be.  What is amazing is how the Holy Spirit turns normal time into sacred time, especially in community.  That is something I am seeing more and more.  I don’t really know what is possible with all of this, but I think a heck of a lot more is both possible and real now than I did before.

We have been given the most intimate relationship with God (body of Christ, bride of Christ).  We are now a family built on Love.  Brothers and Sisters we truly are, and to do well with that requires a commitment to relationship.  The work of being real (not easy, but good).  The learning of justice, kindness, and humility.  And an anticipation of the Love and power of God with us, and among us, now.  Happy Birthday, Church.  You are beautiful.

STACY - Enough, already!

May 17th, 2010

So…um , I hear things.

Well, at least from a purely clinical perspective, I know that I am not schizophrenic, seeing as they are not “audible” voices. Also, I have unfortunately not had imaginary friends since I was a younger version of me.

But…. I still hear voices. Well, more accurately, one loud inner voice. My own. A meaner and way less content version of me.

Thankfully, my own positive self-talk is often loud enough to drown out the voice that robs me of joy and peace. However, when it doesn’t, it can be almost paralyzing. I hear that I am not at all alone in this phenomenon, and that others experience the self-imposed insecurity. The clincher is that these vindictive messages are often directed towards the most vulnerable places inside. Some would call this part of the psyche the “inner child”.

There are various arenas in which the concept of the inner child manifests, from basic psychology to codependency to comedic sitcoms to the 12 step movement. Each recognizes the theories from early childhood and how so any issues stem from negative residual memories of youth.

From my childhood, both from circumstances as temperament, I developed a fierce self-reliance and a strong inner world. For the most part, my independence serves me well.

The double-edged sword, however, it that while I rely on myself for approval, it often comes at the cost of much internal criticism. The core message for me, if I am not aware of my tendency towards self-doubt is “You are not (will never be) _________ enough.”

The truth is, I would never, ever, ever say any of the things that linger through my head about to any of the children I have in my life. In fact, I take every opportunity to speak positive esteem into their lives. I am leaning into the fact that it is as important to reiterate those affirmations to my own heart, and to yours.

I am also learning to give myself the same clear messages that I speak to others. Remembering that I, we, deserve the same care that healthy little ones receive. To a newborn baby, we don’t demand perfection, or set unrealistic standards of performance. So, really, at what point to we allow ourselves to feel enough, already?

The bottom line is that the voice that takes away confidence is really not worth listening to. At all.

In this season, I am growing deeper, and allowing myself to see more good, more wholeness, and more of a “settled” self. Let the beauty of this verse sink in, and may you delight in the beloved inner child within.

We pray that you’ll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul—not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us.

~ Colossians 1:9-10 The Message

KARL - Healing Fatigue

May 11th, 2010

Saturday night at The Refuge we are focusing on the season of Easter and signs of life and hope.  This past weekend we discussed Jesus’ interaction with a crippled man at the pool. “Do you want to get well?” is how Jesus opens the conversation. One might think that must be rhetorical, just a polite starter. But of course, I doubt that. Perhaps Jesus really wants to challenge the man’s thinking and inertia with this question.

Lately I think I am tired of the healing process. I am tired of having to relearn and rethink my identity. I am tired of having to evaluate so much, live in my head so much. I am tired of trying new things, of learning new ways to live. Even though it is positive change I am experiencing, still I am in this place where I don’t want to go to a meeting, share a feeling or take a drug. But, I do want to get better, so the struggle continues.

How does a person get better? I am sure each person has a list of what has worked for them, but with rare exception it was preceded by the desire to be healed.

I don’t think I have ever said out loud, “Nope- don’t want to be any better, thanks.”

But I have often said, “ I don’t have time for a meeting, I cannot afford a therapist, I am not a morning person, I need some time just for me.”

As you reflect on this thought, this season where new life is trying to rise up in dead, crippled places–what has been your way of answering the question, “Do you want to get well?”

God, I get so tired of thought-wrestling.
Change is hard.
Give me the courage to engage in this hard work.
Give me the courage to feel.
Let me see it as a sign of life. A sign of faith.

Help me to see this struggle as drawing me closer to you.
And to others.
Remind me that you are with me.
Give me others who will understand.

amen.

CHRISTA - Death.Life.

May 2nd, 2010

When he was gone, Jesus said, “Now is the Son of Man glorified and God is glorified in him. If God is glorified in him, God will glorify the Son in himself, and will glorify him at once.
“My children, I will be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going, you cannot come.
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

5 funerals in 4 years.
Perhaps those aren’t terrible odds. But, for my heart, that ratio is too big. 5 times too big.

9 babies of friends have been born in the past 4 years.
All healthy. All thriving.
For my heart this is good news. This is a sign of new life.

My “Granpa” just died. His name was William Alexander Romig. He told me stories of selling strawberries in the summertime from a wagon he pulled through the neighborhood to help his family earn money. He could hike through the mountains and tell me what all the different plants were. He had been a recovered alcoholic for over 40 years. He told my sister that my daughters were “something else”. He began to learn to paint when he was in his late 60’s. He and I always made turkey salad after Thanksgiving. My son was named after him. He said he was painfully shy. Literally. And yet, he didn’t stop talking until he drew his last breath.
His body was here and yet Bill/Dad/Granpa/Papa Bill wasn’t here. With eyes closed he talked to his wife, my Granma, who died almost a year ago. They rode motorcycles. He asked for a cherry vodka and a cigarette. He demanded root beer. And he said he saw Jesus. He saw Jesus standing and holding a door open. And Jesus told Bill that he wouldn’t close the door until Bill had walked all the way through. And this morning Bill walked all the way through.

And, though I know that my Granpa wasn’t Jesus. He said something over and over in the last year of his life (the first year in over 60 years that he wasn’t with his wife) that sounded like something that Jesus said. He said that he wanted all of us to take the time to love each other and hold each others hands. Anytime I saw him he would just grab my hand and hold it. He held it firmly. Gently.

I know that he was looking back over his life and I didn’t hear him talk about work or projects or his financial status. I heard him talk about love. And wishing he had more time to love. And hold hands.

“My children, I will be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going, you cannot come.
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Where Granma went, Granpa couldn’t follow. And he missed loving her.
Where Granpa went I cannot follow. And I will miss loving him and being loved by him.
Where Jesus went I cannot follow. And I don’t even know how much I’m missing by being here instead of with him. But, in a way I am where Jesus went. I’m present in this time and place where I can still follow his words. I can love. I can love anyone and everyone. I can take the time away from work, projects and money to go and hold someone’s hand. Gently. Firmly. Lovingly. And Jesus is with us. Living in Love.

PAUL - Real Resurrection Defies a Holiday

April 26th, 2010

I’ve never thought of Easter as a season so I’m a little unsure of what it means to intentionally celebrate resurrection for more than one Sunday… or Saturday for that matter.

I grew up with the idea that Easter was a date coming in the spring sometime and on that day I’d get out of bed and go downstairs and find a basket with a little bit of candy and some kind of Christian rock cassette or CD, most likely by Petra or Steven Curtis Chapman.

We didn’t spend much time with such non-holy things like easter-eggs, breakfast or conversation, we had a lot to do. Those “Sunday’s best” slate grey slacks weren’t going to wear themselves to say nothing of my new vest with the snappy jewel-toned paint brush strokes on it… Yes. We had church.

Easter at The Greeley Wesleyan Church meant that you would most likely see a “greatest-hits” medley of the latest Easter musical extravaganza. A passion play that had been performing for the last few nights in the sanctuary. Of course, the enormous handmade tomb was empty… well sort of empty, there was a bright stage light and fog machine inside to make it more dramatic. The crosses that were used in the play last night were now draped in a purple cloth and there were probably a few stray palm branches that had been missed by the janitor next to the piano.

The choir was the largest it would be all year and everyone looked really happy to sing. The music pastor was conducting a small orchestra on the floor as well as the choir in the loft. In between them were the cream-of-crop singers with microphones…and…solos! And Easter was all about the solos!

After the solos the pastor and his Easter tie would give a short message. (Short because everyone knew that the reason for the big turn out was because Easter was one of two holidays the “un-churched” came to church and we don’t want to scare them away with preaching…besides, we were the church with solos!) In so many words he would say, “Look! The tomb is empty! He is alive! So now you can have “victory” over your sin. Amen. Choir. Solo. Offering. Solo. Amen.

After the Christian Easter show, we’d drive to my grandparents house and gorge ourselves on all the pagan bunnies, Cadbury eggs and Peeps we could fit in our mouths. I don’t remember much about lunch or what we did while we were there (besides throw pennies at back porch step) but I remember that my brother and I never came home without a solid pound of chocolate in the shape of rabbit which usually stayed in our freezer most of the year.

Before long we were back in the car on our way back to Greeley. We went to bed soon after we got home because tomorrow was school or work. Tomorrow was not Easter and next Sunday was not Easter either, it was something like “God’s Play-book for your life” or “Unlikely heros of the Bible.” Not Easter.

To be honest, I’m glad that Easter was just a day and I’m not so sure I want to celebrate Easter… at least not this kind of Easter. Easter took to much work. Too much Spit and polish. This Easter says, “clean up and go to church. Act like you have “victory” over your addictions, your fear, your doubt, your  pain.” This Easter takes a short-cut to Sunday and avoids the pathos of Friday and the despair of Saturday. Sure we liked to Honor “Good Friday” and “Maundy Thursday” but we didn’t want to re-live it. Besides, we didn’t know how so what would be the point? Easter the way we did it tried to mask the thirst we had for real resurrection but only succeeded in making us more thirsty.

I think real resurrection defies a holiday. Holidays only make static something that is actually dynamic and living. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t pause and celebrate these wonderful realties that have given us our faith, but to confuse them with an event that is only present once a year is to deny it’s power.

I think real resurrection is a rhythm. It’s a rhythm that involves both death and life, not just life. You have listen, you have to watch… and then you start to see the valleys and peaks and hear the crescendos and the sudden rests. You watch and listen but more importantly you feel it. You feel the death and feel the life. This is a rhythm you must feel… and when you feel it you can only surrender to it, you can never force it.

Not only is it a rhythm, but resurrection is a force. It is a force that does not eliminate death but transforms it and redeems it to be the essential ingredient for life! It’s active and unstoppable. It’s working in you right now… maybe death and life are even happening simultaneously. Do you know what I mean? Can you feel it?

I know you can’t always recognize it because of how poorly misrepresented it has been but it is there. Right now it only looks like death but listen for a bit to the rhythm and feel the pull of God’s gravity. Surrender might not be as hard as you think… Then who knows, you may never want another Easter Extravaganza for the rest of your life.

DEBBIE - Endless Easter

April 19th, 2010

I’ve been telling this story to a few of you one at a time, but I think I’d like to tell the rest of you all at once, and this seems like a good place to do it.

Back on Fat Tuesday when we were at Karl’s house many of you spoke of what you would be giving up, or adding to your lives, for Lent.

It got me thinking, but I was concerned it would be similar to making a New Year’s resolution, which for me is like making a wish when blowing out birthday candles; a nice idea but without much expectation that it would yield results.

I was pretty sure I was going to opt out of the whole Lenten experience (I love that our church is like a huge buffet, we can pile our plates high with our faves, and leave the lima beans for those who like them.)

However, when I headed home I noticed a rather whiney song on the radio and it occurred to me that I could use a dose of “positive, encouraging” music, so I changed the dial to 91.1 and declared that I would leave it there for the next 40 days. I was almost immediately reminded that some of the on-air folks have got to be as good for the teeth as chewing sugar cubes, but I was determined to try to hear from God during my commute time, and since I only drive 15 minutes each way I knew it wouldn’t hurt too much.

At first I found myself thinking things like, “just 38 more days”, and then things like, “only 33 more days”. But then I started listening intentionally to the lyrics, determined to try and relate to what I was hearing, or at least try to picture what it would look like to be able to sing those words to God…and mean them. Things started to change.

One evening on my way home from work I got a call from a friend who was in the hospital. Hospitals are NOT my thing. Stopping anywhere on my way home from work is NOT my thing. But my car was now possessed by the spirits, Positive and Encouraging and it seemed to be driving me to the hospital. I wasn’t feeling put-out or guilted into going either, I kind of wanted to love on this friend a little. Weird.

Many times over the ensuing days I’d be faced with choices to do the selfish thing, or the selfless thing and chose the latter. I could tell it was different than before because there was no residual resentment or martyred stoicism, just a peace and a sense of gratitude that I got to be part of what God was doing.

A few weeks ago Steve got a call from his mom in Arkansas. Her husband of 38 years was dying and she was going to try to make his last days comfortable at home. He could tell she was scared and exhausted and there was no way of knowing how long he would need her constant care. Steve felt compelled to drive out immediately to help her with his step-dad, give her some rest, and just be there for her. He wanted to take the good car—“my” car. Now I’d only been on the K-Love diet for about a month, so I was by no means fully sanctified at this point. I frankly bitched a little. And then a little more. And then acquiesced with just a hint of martyred stoicism, but a mere fraction of what it would have been in pre-Lenten days.

Steve had a great week with his mom and visited the rest of his family in Missouri on his way to and from Arkansas, and on his way home he got the call…Smitty had passed away in the night. Towards the end of that conversation his mother told him, “I wish you and Deb lived close by.”  Steve relayed mom’s comment to me and in my new and improved heart I heard myself ask, “Why not?”

God was doing something, in fact had been doing something for quite some time. Our lease was up, I’d reached the rather low glass ceiling at work, and my wandering children were on the road again. Why not, indeed?

Since we’ve made the decision to go I’ve felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. I wake each morning full of hope and expectation and NOT wanting a cigarette. Hallelujah! There are many uncertainties ahead, yet I have every confidence that God’s all over it.

I’ve no idea what’s next, I’m just pretty sure that I’ve entered a new chapter of my life which began on Fat Tuesday and by no means ended on Easter Sunday. In fact I can hardly wait to turn the page.

MICHELLE - Signs of Life

April 12th, 2010

in the weeks following Jesus’ resurrection, we will have a series of posts on the refuge blog focused on “signs of real life”.  we’ll also continue our conversations on saturday evenings in the same vein.  enjoy this one by michelle.

Signs of Life

Signs of life so easily buried.

Illusions shattered, winter hardens the dry ground.

Even as the robins begin their spring symphony, sleeting rain and snow weigh down their light feathers, as the harshness of winter intrudes yet again on the signs of new life.

The song of love invites me to join its chorus.  I resist.

Why sing along when winter will just come again

And bury my song under freezing blankets of snow.

I bury the signs of life, and my heart hardens.

Five robins now perch on the branches outside my window.

Their light and hopeful aria really, really bothers me.

Stupid birds, why do they sing even as the snow piles on top of their orange beaks?

Wisdom whispers to me, “They sing because that’s what they were made to do.”

Why love?  Why forgive?  The robins’ song reminds me, that’s what I’m created for.

I can only choose to sing or not sing.

I sing, one warbly note, then another.

Signs of life in my cold winter’s heart tell me spring is finally here.

out of death and darkness hope and new life emerges

April 5th, 2010

at our saturday gathering we celebrated the hope of resurrection sunday together, the reminder that out of the death of friday and the darkness of saturday, that hope and new life emerges on easter sunday.  this rhythm in our life is one that we need to always remember.

out of death and darkness hope and new life emerges

out of death and darkness hope and new life emerges

if we were left with only friday, it is a “victim” story–Jesus wrongly accused and killed unjustly.  many of us can connect to being victims and might live our lives from that friday place.  if we were left with only saturday, it is a “survivor” story–Jesus dead in a tomb, hope of what could be dashed, and a resolve to “make the most of it now.”  many of us are survivors and live our life from that place–not allowing ourselves to hope for more and just doing the best we can to gut it out and keep on pressing on.

but the good news is that we don’t have to be stuck being a victim or a survivor.   resurrection sunday is a thriver story–that out of death and darkness, hope and new life emerges.  that because of Jesus alive and well, we have a chance not to just be victims or survivors, but to thrive.  and thriving doesn’t mean a fake, happy-clappy Christian life.  it means being planted in good soil, with a firm foundation of hope and peace, with an understanding in a deep place in our hearts that Jesus is with us, for us, reminding us that “out of death and darkness, hope and new life always emerges.”

this picture is an illustration of the collective hope and new life that is emerging out of death and darkness in the refuge community.   it is a beautiful reminder of the hope of easter.

we wanted to share the closing liturgy we used at our easter gathering as a reminder this week that out of death and darkness hope and new life emerges.  yes, He is risen.  He is risen, indeed.

* * * * *

Jesus, our counselor. advocate. redeemer. father. gardener. lover. brother. friend. savior.
Jesus, our beautiful peace.  our beautiful hope.

out of death and darkness, hope and life emerges.
Yes, He is risen!

He is risen, indeed.

he promises us new life.  real life.  not the kind of life the world tell us we should have. but a life filled with love, a life filled with sacrifice. a life filled with risk.  a life filled with rewards we sometimes cannot see.   i life filled with plans we sometimes don’t understand.

out of death and darkness, hope and life emerges.
Yes,  He is risen!

He is risen, indeed.

he says he’ll never leave us, never forsake us, that nothing can ever separate us from his love, absolutely nothing. that in the good times, in the bad, his spirit will always with us. his faithfulness endures forever. his tender mercies sustain us.

out of death and darkness, hope and life emerges.
He is risen!

He is risen, indeed.

he satisfies us when we are hungry, offers food that restores our souls, waters our thirsty spirits, and fills our deepest need to be loved and valued.

out of death and darkness, hope and life emerges.
He is risen!

He is risen, indeed.

he is close to the brokenhearted.  he heals. he restores.  he nurtures.  he gives us courage when we are afraid.  he guides us, leads us, calls us to step out, speak out, live instead of hide. stand for justice instead of remain quiet.  to grow. to bear fruit.  to love him, our neighbors, ourselves.

out of death and darkness, hope and life emerges
He is risen!

He is risen indeed!

the way, the truth, the life…Jesus… is alive.  and well.  living in us.  restoring hope.  bringing peace.  proclaiming freedom.  nurturing life.   teaching us what it means to be loved, to love.

out of death and darkness, hope and life emerges.
He is risen!

He is risen indeed!

He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

amen.

a prayer for holy week

March 29th, 2010

May we follow

May we follow you O Jesus
with palms in one hand
and bread and wine in the other

May we follow you, O Jesus
with hosanna in our throats
and questions on our minds

May we follow you, O Jesus
trusting your love
even as we hesitate at it’s cost

May we follow you, O Jesus
familiar with the story
frightened by the reality

May we follow you, O Jesus
hearing the sounds of the week
and recognising our own voices

May we follow you, O Jesus
there at the beginning
through to the ending as well

Roddy Hamilton, Abbotsford Chuch, Scotland, 2009