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A few past newsletter reflections
December 2010
God is light. 1 John 1:5
“You make a better door than a window.” That’s what I tell my dog, Hannah, when she’s blocking the television. She doesn’t seem to understand the finer points of what I’m saying, but she usually knows that I mean she needs to step out of the way.
The opposite could be set of us. We make better windows than doors. Each of us is a window—substantial and real, but also a view into the Reality that surrounds and permeates our own reality. Each of us is a view into Light, into God. God is light, and we are windows, shedding God’s light on one another and in the world around us.
Let’s take the metaphor one step further. Not only is each of us a window; even more, each of us is a stained glass window. Written into our bodies and selves are the stories we have lived, like images in a stained glass window. Each of us has different colors, different stories, and so each of us shows God’s light in subtly different ways as it passes through us. God does not desire us to all be the same, to show that same monotonous white light. God rejoices in the beautiful colors that shine through us.
But as stained glass windows, we suffer the fate of all windows: we get dirty. Dirty windows are funny things—we often don’t notice how dirty they’ve become until some joker writes “Wash me” on them, and we realize how dirty the window has become. We, the stained glassed windows of this world, collect dirt in the same way. Resentment, frustration, jealousy, unkindness, lack of compassion, negligence, apathy—over time, these things cover us in grime. Before long, the light that shines through dims and darkens, and we stained glass windows lose some of our vibrant color as the Light that fills us becomes blocked.
In this season of Advent, the season of preparation for Christmas, our preparation is a simple one. We are called clean up, to wash the windows of our selves so that we might be bright again, and so that God might shine brilliantly through us once more. Pull out some spiritual reading. Sit on the porch in silence. Pray in the shower. Really listen to music. Have that conversation you’ve been putting off. Contact that friend who you’ve really meant to call for ages. Give food to those who need it. Invite someone unlikely for the holidays. Share your time with those who have nothing to give in return.
Wash off what’s in the way of God’s love, and show that love by being yourself.
Peace,
Ryan
November 2010
Dear friends,
Come worship with us.
So often, life feels like a hectic mess. Whether we are working inside or outside the home; whether we in school during the day or at night; or even if we have taken up retirement as our new profession—one thing after another yanks on us, trying to ‘take up our time.’ Doesn’t it seem as if time is a resource that’s running out? There are too many places to spend our time: our “to do” list of responsibilities, sports events, familial obligations, vacations, and the laundry list of household chores. We parcel out increments of time to taxes, outreach, entertainment, and at some point try to set aside a little time for sleep. But what if something could anchor us week after week to something solid, something grounded? Come worship with us, and find an anchor here.
So often, life feels like a juggling act, trying to make everything hang in the air. Our work-time has to be balanced by our play-time; our time indoors by our time outdoors. We try to be happy, well-balanced, educated, ecologically-minded, responsible, just, compassionate, generous, and all at the same time. We try to keep everyone happy, even if it kills us. But what if we could set down those things we juggle for an hour? What if we could share with one another the joys and struggles of a spiritual life? What would make God happy for us? Come worship with us, and find your peace here.
So often, life feels like it is missing something. We miss the beauty of the forest while we try not to run into trees. Sometimes, we breathe in the beautiful evening night air and enjoy the sunset—but other times, we can’t shake the feeling that we’ve missed something important. We move from one important thing to another, and yet somehow it seems like something of prime Importance has escaped just beyond our reach. But what if something could refresh our connection to God, to Meaning? What if we could experience God’s Kingdom in more present way? Come worship with us, and find heaven here.
Let our worship bubble up again to the top your priority list. Come for an anchor. Come for peace. Come for heaven.
Peace,
Ryan
October 2010
A few days ago, I nearly screamed at someone.
The man was only “doing his job,” as he pressed again and again to sell me some tea in a little retail store in the mall. He shoved a steamy cup into my hand, crooning on about the great quality of what was a fairly mediocre and over-sweetened plastic cup of tea. I tried to browse the teapots, and he regaled me with the many benefits of an under-sized plastic thermos. I asked to purchase 2 ounces of tea; he tried to impose 4 ounces on me, which of course would have doubled the price. He had the gall to look confused when I didn’t pay the extra amount.
We are all, I suspect, tired of being asked for money. Day after day, screen after screen, page by page people ask for our money, offering us goods, lifestyles, looks, and styles. Radio, TV, billboard, internet, magazines, books—how refreshing it would be to have a week without advertisements!
Even in a recession, people have not stopped asking for money. If anything, I continue to notice a rising pitch in the requests, a demand that we give money. Constantly, we hear about the direction of “consumer spending” and “big ticket items” and “new house construction” and whether they are up or down. The new stories become happier and seem to reward us for spending more, and they threaten more recession if we spend too little. Somehow, we become failures by not consuming at an ever-increasing rate—which in the end is a race toward physical and spiritual obesity that is bound to be fatal.
Amidst all this salesmanship and screaming to spend, I find myself thinking more and more of one of my favorite chapters in the Bible, Isaiah 55, which asks: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” Something about the endless cycle of consumption is lie. Something that sates us only temporarily and, like having a sugary snack early in the afternoon, leaves us starving by meal-time. We need real sustenance, real bread to feed our starving hearts, real wine for true celebration of resurrection in the midst of loss. We need real oil to soothe our wounds, and we need real music to buoy up our minds. We need Reality. We need Life. We need God.
Strangely, we cannot buy that Reality at any retail outlet. Instead, we have to re-learn economics as God imagines it. We must learn to see the world not as one of ‘scarcity and taking and spending’ but of ‘abundance and giving and sharing.’ If we want to escape this endless cycle of shrieking consumerism, we cannot buy our way out. We must give our way out, giving of our time, talent, and money.
We will never spend our way out of a spiritual recession. We can only give our way out.
Our stewardship season, as it invites us to share our wealth of time and treasure with our church community and those in need, is not one more request for money. ‘Stewardship time’ is our invitation to escape the fear that we do not have enough and instead bless what we have by giving proportionally of ourselves and our possessions to God.
I truly believe this, or I would not give of my own treasure. I give 10% of my income to the church, to God’s work, and then more to charities in which I believe—and frankly, I have much room to grow in letting go of my possessions that possess me and sharing what I have. I do not give because I am ordained, nor because I am particularly good or compassionate. I give proportionally because I have found that kind of giving to be the only way I can continue to grow in God’s spiritual economy.
For some of us, the hardships of this recession have been very real, but the financial recession damages us most when it traps us in a spiritual recession, a cycle of fear and scarcity. We need what cannot be purchased. We need what only God offers, what is available only in God’s economy. And we can receive it, only by giving.
Peace,
Ryan
