Hosea

God wants to pursue me and I Him.

Thankfully, my second Prayer & Praise experience was altogether better. I had arrived early and with my elevator key. This was a very good sign.

Upon entry, I met up with the evening’s speaker. He was lost in thought, and so I simply passed him by. He then called out to me, which took me by surprise. And so I turned about-face and spoke with him.

He said that he had changed the sermon 48 hours before this, and that he was just hoping to present what was on his heart, which at this point in his life was proof that God was still pursuing him. I nodded and smiled. I really didn’t know what to say. And so I blessed him, prayed that God would anoint his words, and then I left him to his preparations.

After entering the commons and making an instant survey of my surroundings, I decided to head straight for the men’s lavatory. I had not even cleared half-way through the commons before hearing a classmate yelling from across the room, “ANTHONY! YOU’RE HERE!”

I didn’t know what to say. So I kept walking. The student kept to her laptop and I heard nothing more from her.

After arriving in the lavatory, I began to pray. “Lord, quiet my heart. Grant me your peace. Allow me to be a blessing tonight.” From then on, I experienced something altogether amazing.

I re-entered the commons area refreshed and ready to serve. I introduced myself to a young sophomore at Trinity and commented him on his beard. I then asked if there was anything I could do to serve. I’m not sure if anyone else knows that my profession is church production. I was then told that the best thing I could do was to “sit down.”

It was a rather disjointed feeling that came over me. Not only was I missing a sense of Christian community, but I had no place to offer my talents in service to anyone. What was God doing to me?

Once the service started, I did the best I could to worship God in spite of my discomfort. I felt those words echo through me: “I will become even more undignified than this.”

Then the speaker arose and began to offer his thoughts on the book of Hosea. I was stunned at his honesty and authenticity in sharing what he was wrestling with. I believe it takes someone very close to the heart of God to preach in the face of deep-seeded doubt.

He spoke about the context that the book was written in. He spoke about how Hosea was called to marry a prostitute. He spoke about how in the midst of Hosea’s personal pain, he had the perfect testimony to share with a people whose hearts had been so hardened for so long. He spoke about how God is the very essence of existence itself, and how it seems absurd for us as created beings to deny existence in order to pursue the things that distract us from what really matters. He called all of us to pursue an authentic relationship with God where we are His beloved, and He is ours. He then did something unexpected.

He asked us to turn in groups of two or three and pray with/for each other. He called us to be a community of people who actually exercise our faith by caring for the needs of one another, and so “bear one another’s burdens.”

And so we did. And the most wonderful thing happened.

I was privileged to listen to people’s issues and address them with empathy, Godly council and heartfelt prayer. I have yet to know if anything I did made a difference in their situations, but my hope is that God is now in control and will work all things out for good as they pursue their intimacy with Jesus Christ.

When we were done, we were called back to worship. And to my right and left were seated the people whom I had just prayed for. And as I allowed myself to “let go” and worship God with my whole heart, I felt the presence and voices of a great many people all around me worshipping God. Though it wasn’t a visual thing, it was certainly a visceral thing. And yet, when I opened my eyes, not only were there no more of us than were initially present, but I found myself alone where I was seated; the people I had prayed for were gone. And the great many voices were no longer heard.

Maybe I am completely mistaken, but I felt as though God inhabited the praises of His people in that moment in an extremely powerful way. God’s Spirit was so palpable I could almost taste it. This is not hyperbole.

And then the speaker called us all into a circle in the front of the room, where he corporately prayed over each of us, as well as the college itself. Unified in shape, with arms outstretched over each other’s shoulders, there was no mistaking the reciprocated unity that so closely mirrored the koinonia I had longed for the college to engender. Acts 2 and Galatians 6 were then a reality, not just an archaic story.

I left the event alone, once again. I lingered at my car for only a moment, but in that moment, an eternity. I gave thanks to God for His sovereign answer to prayer that came in His timing, on His terms. I was simply grateful to have played a tiny part. And I was left with this wonderful sense that even though I had done nothing to serve others in the way I had been accustomed due to my vocation, God allowed me to serve in a way that led me to grow in the areas that I desperately desire growth in, namely pastoral.

In the course of events that transpired, I discovered once again that as I pursue God, He has already been pursuing me and setting me up to serve Him in ways that suit both my experience and the occasion. I am not a very intelligent individual, but I’ve learned a few things from the school of hard knocks. It is better to give than to receive; in the act of giving to others, we receive from God more abundantly than we will ever hope or imagine.

Romans 1:20

Once again I’m reminded of some of God’s more appealing attributes.

I had the idea that I was going to film a scene against the blown-out background of the setting sun itself durning what has been colloquially coined “The Golden Hour.” This is the period of time that occurs within one hour of dusk, and remains the only time that will guarantee that a producer will at the very least tolerate your work. Many producers refuse to even glance at anything shot midday.

And so it was that last year I had chosen a similar aesthetic for my thematic element: “The Arrival 2007” against a blown-out white backdrop, much like the “Mac vs. PC” promotional advertisements. Yet this year, I wanted something more artistic; something more tangible; something that people could sink their eyes into.

Hence, “The Golden Hour.”

And it just so happened during my initial setup and throughout the shooting day that I was struck by the most glorious thing: I had stumbled upon the very essence of God’s beauty personified in light & shape.


The woman’s beauty struck me in a way that tore open a window into the reveries of God’s creativity. The blazing sunset set afire each strand of her hair, such that resembled gold spun by the Master Himself. And as for the landscape, there remained nothing more of fall’s faltering fauna; it was all ablaze with the very presence of God. Unfortunately, these images are quite "lame-sauce" compared to the event itself, but serve to provide a foggy semblance of God's majestic visage.


And while the feeling faded shortly after the shoot was over, the effects were not lost on me. If only for an instant, I had "slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God." Though my vision was veiled, and justly so, this stood as yet another example of the evidence of God's existence permeating all that I had perceived. The editing process stood as a memorial to that fact.

If nothing else, God's beauty was more luminous to me in that instant than I had remembered it being for quite some time. And therein I found shalom. Yet another reminder of God's glory waking me from an unfortunate spiritual slumber.

Like Jonah.

Once again I am reminded that I live for You Lord, and not You for me.

I attended Prayer & Praise for the first time tonight. After arriving 15 minutes late to find that I had been locked out of the premises, I drove back home. On route, I decided to phone a fellow student to ask if I had, perchance, been mistaken as to the details; was Prayer & Praise in fact on a Tuesday night? was I entreating entrance at the proper door? was I too late to participate? was there word of my arrival, and did someone decide to cancel last minute as a result?

In actuality, I had not been mistaken. I had ascertained the time, date and location. I had also forgotten my campus elevator key.

And since I was on my home anyway, I madly searched after it. And once attaining the key, I promptly returned to the campus, nearly 30 minutes late.

Once I arrived and had gained entrance to the facility, I immediately chose the path of least resistance and sat in the first available seat. Singing had commenced and I was unsure of what direction the worship service would take. So I remained silent. And quite penitent.

Knowing none of the songs that were being sung, nor any of the students seated near me, I believe that I engendered a posture as awkward as my emotional state had suggested. But I decided to maintain a spirit of worship nonetheless.

And as worship came to a close, a student arose to speak. The topic was “God of the City” and the monologue was a colloquial summary of the life of Jonah. And that’s when it happened.

He spoke in hushed tones about the anger that arose in Jonah’s spirit; about the contempt for “lessers” and “sinners” and those whom Jonah looked down upon. He pointed out the hardness of Jonah’s heart that caused him to deny God’s imperative. He spoke of the city of Everett and likened it to Ninevah. He said that God’s spirit dwells with drug dealers and prostitutes and those who are homeless. He then spoke of the apostle Peter and said that we get to share in Peter’s revelation. He said that Peter was told through a dream that God did not look downward upon the “unclean” with disgust; rather, it was God’s desire that Peter see them as God did, as “being made clean.”

And as the lesson came to a close and singing once again began, my heart broke. I am still uncertain why, or even what. But something in my heart broke.

The words resounded in my heart, “Holy, Holy, Holy Is The LORD GOD ALMIGHTY.” And like the sounding of a massive bell, the sounding of my heart grew in intensity; the presence of God overwhelmed me; my heart melted like wax within me.

Tears and mucus began to flow in embarrassing quantities. Part of me was ashamed at the unrighteous state of my heart. I have always loved Jesus, but have always failed Him. I have always despised my own nature.

I remember praying aloud that God take my hands and use them for His purposes. I raised up open hands before Him and chose to bless His name; I chose the path of stewardship and integrity, no matter what pain accompanied it.

I remember feeling God’s love in a way that I had not experienced for too long. I might have served to resemble a righteous man in deed, but my heart was shamefully far from Him. I felt reminded of Joseph’s success as second-in-command of Egypt at the cost of his every thing. I felt reminded that Joseph emptied himself of his self and practiced the presence of God. I felt reminded in prayer of the words that John the Baptist coined: “[Jesus] must increase, but I must decrease.”

And as I poured my heart out, the words came. “I will become even more undignified than this.” So was it pride? Was it arrogance? Was it a form of malignant narcissism or glorified self-perception? I cannot say for certain. But I can assert with authority that my heart became prostrate and my spirit contrite within me. My sense of “me” was replaced with a sense of “Him.”

In God’s presence I am woefully aware of my unrighteous standing before Him. And it causes me an almighty amount of pain. Though if given the option between experiencing a closeness with God marked with an overriding sense of blistering moral inadequacy, or a great distance from God in which there exists a vacuum devoid of feeling whatsoever, I will choose pain every time. The presence of God is all I have; I would do nothing to have it removed.

And as the evening came to a close, I found myself walking towards the street corner and then waiting at a red light. Waiting. And as the other students passed me by, I felt a strong desire for the closeness of community; for one of them to reach out to me in some way. Yet I turned my face towards the red light. Waiting.

Waiting.

And as I waited, a wind swirled around me. “Your love is a hurricane; I am the tree.” The feeling of searing loneliness was met by the humbling and devastating love of my Lord and Savior. I diminished. He increased. And once again, Lord, I am reminded that I exist for You. And You desire me. And that is what love is when it is complete.

Lectio Divina

Interesting. . .

The stated goal is to “experience a word from God in God’s Word.”

I believe that this prayer practice is quite helpful to me in the context of allowing scripture to present itself as prompted by the Holy Spirit. I am preparing for a sermon this coming Thursday and have a selected text, though I have not yet selected a focus for application.

In practicing Lectio Divina, I found that the process of meditation and prayer actually helped in allowing the Spirit of God to guide me to His intended application. I chose as my passage Genesis 41:37-57. I was disturbed somewhat by the free-association style by which we are encouraged in contemplation.

I am currently bemoaning the fact that I am nearing 30 and still single. It is difficult for me to believe that I have any options left, in that there is a distinct lack of abundance of suitable ezer kenegdo’s in the surrounding Everett area. There are options, sure, if I were willing to go against God and conscience. However, taking on the unlimited strength and resources of an infinite being is not a task I look forward to undertaking.

And so I wait.

And as I do, the thoughts swirl like molasses within my already sticky mind. And this is what I am thinking about as I am in the middle of the Lectio Divina prayer practice, which causes me to question my commitment to--or sanity therein--the integrity of this present pursuit of understanding God’s words to me.

And then it hits me. Integrity. That’s it. Joseph was a man of integrity who humbled himself in all ways, who experienced God’s presence even in the midst of prison, and whom God prospered wherever He planted him.

Verses 51-52 speak both to Joseph’s greatest success and to God’s plan for holistic well-being. After being promoted to second-in-command in all of Egypt, Joseph is able to experience a deep joy at the birth of his two sons which allows him to move beyond the pain of his past into the blessings that God has bestowed upon him. God allows Joseph to "forget all [his] hardship" and to be "fruitful in the land of [his] affliction." It seems as though a deep sense of joy and vindication are now accessible to Joseph for the first time in a long time.

I am reminded that in the midst of Joseph’s suffering, God’s presence was with him.

I am reminded of Luke 4:18-19 where Jesus announces that He has come into this world to “proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

I am reminded that God is one who gives us “beauty for ashes.”

I am reminded that Jesus himself suffered many things, though is now glorified and “seated at the right hand of the Father.”

I am reminded that James 1:2-4 admonishes us to allow difficult times to develop within us Godly character so that we will “lack nothing” and pursue integrity in the midst of difficulty.

I believe that the key component of Joseph’s success was his willingness to make integrity one of his core values and to never depart from it. God’s plan was bigger than Joseph ever could have imagined when he was seventeen; and it took God 13 years to turn Joseph into the man God needed him to be in order to allow the next phase of God’s plan of reconciliation on planet earth to take effect. 13 years! But as a result of Joseph’s obedience and integrity, God blessed him when he was 30 years old and began to give him the desires of his heart.

So in context, the Lectio Divina prayer practice turned out to be an excellent tool for an applicational--if somewhat isogetical--approach to allowing me to “experience a word from God in God’s Word.” This is certainly a prayer practice that I will consider making a habitual pattern in my devotional life.

Here I Am

The stated goal of this prayer practice is to "be here now in prayer."

The steps are rather straightforward: Choose a specific time period; focus on relaxation and self-awareness; expand focus to include external surroundings; finally, focus on God’s presence.

I find this process to be useful in the context of other prayer practices, especially when one’s anxieties keep them from hearing that “still, small voice.” Such is the case with me.

I am the epitome of the efficiency-driven American with too much to do and not enough time with which to achieve my pressing goals. As a result, I am beginning to wonder if that has produced a stumbling block in my ability to hear God’s voice.

As I began this exercise, I found myself reticent both to God and myself. As I moved forward in relaxation and awareness, I noticed my heart rate steadily decreasing. Finally, as I invited the presence of God into my sphere, I was disheartened to find Him in a condition of peaceful uncommunicativeness.

I had hoped to receive a “burning bush” experience befitting my violent nature. Yet, what I found instead was a calming, no-intensity presence of nothingness.

Disheartening.

However, I wonder if that’s the point. Maybe God sees something I don’t see; maybe He’s trying to change my very nature into something more balanced and contemplative. Maybe His closeness is best experienced in a state of reverential self-emptying. Maybe God doesn’t care as much about my receptivity to His presence as He does my obedience to fulfill His commands and the penitent condition of my heart.

Or maybe I just did it wrong.

In any event, I feel that this exercise is best performed for medicinal purposes, in that it has wonderful calming effects. Perhaps when paired with other prayer practices I would find Here I Am more useful. As it stands, I believe that this prayer practice achieves its stated goal, to allow one to simply “be here now in prayer.”

Examen

I feel that the goal of the Examen prayer practice is noble.

I began with the traditional Ignatian Examen. This was difficult for me, in that the language of the prayer was very pointed and specific. The words that were the most painful to put into practice were, "Ask that all within you that is not in line with God's purpose for your life be released." There are things in my life that I desire so much that I actually consider stepping away from the "center of God's will" in order to pursue them. So to be convicted by the Holy Spirit of such dangerous desires and to be instructed to "release" them feels rather devastating.

Doesn't God care about what I want? I've been as faithful as I know how for quite a while. . .why can't I be selfish for a change? When will I finally receive "the desires of my heart?"

These are perhaps insecure questions, but they are what popped up at this point during the prayer.

God has, indeed, been very active in my life. He has been faithful to bestow grace upon my work-life and relationships. He has called me to do some very exhausting things, but has given me the strength to persevere. He has repaid my faithfulness with mercy and wisdom. So why does this heart of mine go astray? Hasn't it learned by now the futility of such practices?

Though I cannot in good conscience confess to have failed in reflecting God's love and mercy (as nothing comes to mind), I do confess that I often believe in my heart that God's love is not enough to satisfy me. I pray so hard and so often that His grace will be sufficient and that I'll be granted His shalom and contentment, only to find my heart wandering further away from that first moment when it began to love Him holistically.

I am walking through a season where I am providing ministerial leadership and council to a body of believers who are my contemporaries. It seems like the more I try to point people to Jesus and to what God desires for their lives, the more they take the opposite actions. I wonder if it even maters anymore what I say to them. Perhaps it would be better for me to instruct people to engage in premarital sex and to partake in substance abuse; maybe then they'll do the opposite and turn to Jesus Christ as their Lord and source of life.

And these are the thoughts that are swirling through this swiss cheese mind of mine as I try to recall any instance in which I need to make amends. But to no avail. What am I doing wrong?

Finally, as I recite the Lord's Prayer, I am reminded of how unselfishly Jesus instructs us to pray. The primary focus of the prayer is that "[God's] kingdom come, [God's] will be done." It's not about me and what I want; it's all about Him. And it seems that as I turn to God and pursue His desires for this planet, He then is faithful to provide for our immediate needs, no more, no less. In what other model can this be successful--where we are called to such unfathomable co-dependence and reciprocity--but our relationship with God?

So at the end of this exercise, I find that my love for God remains unchanged. My awareness of His presence and goodness in my life has been significantly strengthened. My heart feels slightly less inclined to wander. My purpose remains unchanged. But the delight I feel for Jesus Christ has intensified in a way that I cannot calculate nor bear to express; I find myself in tears at the intimacy that overwhelms me. This was certainly not what I expected from this exercise. It is, in fact, diametrically opposed to my initial speculations.

The goal of Ignatian Examen is to “find God in all things.” It seems that God Himself has found me.

When God Doesn’t Answer

It would be easy to believe that God exists for me. After all, I spend a lot of time consumed by myself. "I" am a subject that I'm quite familiar with.

So what happens when I pray for something that doesn't get answered? Did God somehow not hear me? Doesn't He care? It seems like an insecure thing to say, but perhaps it's my insecurity that led me to question Him in the first place.

I find that the more I learn about God, the more I learn what a mature faith is all about. There comes a time when my desires must align with God's desires for me. After all, He desires my holistic well-being. Why wouldn't I want that? Because it takes time, that's why. And I get impatient. And it seems rather rude for God to make an impatient person wait. But impatience is the result of selfishness, and selfishness is something that God wants to root out of my life; because if He doesn't, then I will never experience the wellness He desires for me.

But is selfishness really that bad? Well, yes. It's said that God is the biggest fan of those are down-and-out; those who are in pain, widows, orphans, poor, imprisoned, impoverished, oppressed, persecuted and neglected. God is extremely ticked-off when my selfishness gets in the way of my serving others who are in need.

So that takes me back to the first question: What happens when my prayers remain unanswered? Why does He sometimes seem so distant?It's because He wants me to grow and He knows I'll never really do that if He always comes to my rescue. There comes a time when I must take whatever bible knowledge I have and apply it to the context of my current situation. I find that a lot of the time, I already know what God wants me to do; the problem is that I don't want to do it because it seems really painful. But it's in the context of my greatest pain that God is truly closest to me. And it's a direct result of this closeness with God that He gives me what He desires the most for me.

Holistic Well-Being. Unending joy. Freedom from fear. Relational reconciliation. Things that money can never buy.

And when I've made the correct decision, I find myself forgetting about "I" and remembering about "Him." And all of the pain seems worth it. And it's there that God's unanswered prayers yield the greatest reward; a peace that surpasses all circumstantial understanding. When God doesn't answer, that's when He answers the most. We just need to ask the right questions.

"How can I love Him more today than yesterday?" By loving those the world deems unlovely. Everyone is loved by God. Not everyone knows it. And that's the way I should be praying; to see God's will done on planet earth. He wants to heal us in the context of a personal relationship with Him. Can you imagine what would happen if more people prayed that way? There would be a lot less brokenness in humanity. The good news is that Jesus already made this possible. We just have to choose to walk in it.

Healing can exist, if we want it. And God is just waiting to grant it to us. But there's going to be pain. And it's in the context of that pain that we'll come to know the closeness of God.

The Journey Begins. . .

This will be the first of many postings on the subject of piety. I am endeavoring to grow closer to Jesus Christ through numerous methods of prayer & practice. My first such experiment occurred on October 2nd.

For quite some time I had believed that my goal at Trinity was to grow in my knowledge of scripture -- orthodoxy -- in order to supplement my already thriving relationship with God -- piety -- only to find that both were, in fact, quite equally deficient. This was an extremely tough pill to swallow, as I was left aloof in what should have been a solid foundational stepping stone towards religious transcendence & internal transformation. And where was God in the midst of all of this? It became another one of those "desert times" where I knew God was present in my life, though could not for the life of me feel His closeness any longer.

It was Thursday, October 2nd. I had sought God with my whole heart. In a moment of solitude, I cried out, "God, I need to feel you again. I need to hear from you again. I won't take another step until I hear from you in a way that I can understand, and clearly so, what you want from me."

I guess that was what God was waiting for. Moments later, a friend of mine spoke to me from scripture concerning the need for me to keep my "focus on Jesus" as Peter did when he miraculously walked on water. After that, another friend told me that I needed to "let go of the penny so God can give [me] a credit card." The meanings were clear to me: I had been struggling with letting go of the things that held me back from my relationship with Jesus & was then called to focus solely on Him, after which He would bless me with the things that were altogether better.

I feel like this is the beginning of a very intense time of discipline for me, and I am certain that God is withdrawing the "closeness" I had come to take for granted so that I will not become a slave to feelings; rather, that I should be mastered by a true truth and a faithful faith that is not swayed by fanciful "winds of doctrine or the cunning of men" or even of my own deceitful desires and intuition. I am pursuing the Truth, and I endeavor to be "set free."