One of the nice things about this retreat has been finding a notebook from other retreatants in the lap drawer of the desk. It was good to read what other pilgrims have written.
So, I decided to add my own words. Here they are, even though you are not in room 201 at Gethsemani. What is true in room 201 is also true wherever you are right now.
“So, you have come to Gethsemani seeking God, seeking direction. Me too.
It is not in finding God that we find Him. Rather, it is in the seeking itself. Those who seek are already blessed (Psalm 119:2).
And of course, God is seeking you and me, isn’t He? The incarnation and the cross both say that pretty clearly.
My frantic seeking is, however, not always helpful. Focusing on the God who is seeking me involves relaxing into God’s love, grace, and my true identity in Christ.
So relax! God’s got this—no matter what your “this” is!”
I am on retreat at Gethsemani Abbey. Gethsemani is a Trappist monastery. The monks observe, to the best of their ability, a vow of silence. Retreatants are encouraged to do the same.
I don’t think that I am fully aware of how much I talk until I try to be silent for a while. In fact, a more general awareness is the fruit of silence.
Yesterday, while eating lunch, I was fascinated watching the birds at outside the windows of the dining hall. The monks had several bird feeders set up outside. There were probably at least ten different species taking turns at the feeders. One particularly plump and intensely red male cardinal caught my eye. I had never seen such a bright red on a cardinal before. Or, was it just that I had never seen what was in front of me all along?
Words can be an expression of reality. Words can also be an insulator against reality. Perhaps if I practiced more silence, I would reap a better harvest of awareness.
That’s all I’ve got to say about that.
We are all growing in age, but are we growing with age? That is the question for today.
Consider, for example, the words that conclude the account of the boy Jesus in the temple. Luke sums up over half of Jesus’ life in one verse at the end of Luke, chapter 2.
“Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the Feast of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up according to custom. And when the feast was ended, as they were returning, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know it, but supposing him to be in the group they went a day’s journey, but then they began to search for him among their relatives and acquaintances, and when they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem, searching for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. And when his parents saw him, they were astonished. And his mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress.” And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” And they did not understand the saying that he spoke to them. And he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was submissive to them. And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.”
(Luke 2:41–52 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version
https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Ex._12:48, bolding mine).
My “3-Minute Retreat” from Loyola Press reading for this morning was based on parts of this passage from Luke’s Gospel. The retreat master asked a very pertinent question: “In what ways am I being called to grow in wisdom, age, and grace?”
And based on this reading (and the Scripture from Luke upon which it was based), I asked myself an equally pertinent question: Am I growing with age, or am I just aging? Am I still growing with age, or just growing older?
Of course, Luke wrote these words about Jesus when Jesus was just a boy. We tend to think of boys and girls as growing in stature and weight. Think of the statement, “Well of course he eats a lot! He’s a growing boy!”
But what about growing in age? We recognize that, in a sense, this happens automatically. Of course, we are growing older! But that is not the same as growing with age. While growth has an upper limit when it comes to height (but not, unfortunately, when it comes to weight), and while there is an upper limit to the years we get to live, there is no limit to growing with age.
However, there needs to be some intentionality in our growing. Growth in age happens no matter what we do or don’t do. Growth with age is kind of up to us.
A good question for me to ask myself today and every day is this: What will I do today to grow with age?
I heard a snippet of “The TED Radio Hour” on Saturday, January 18, 2020. It’s a good show that Guy Raz hosts. However, sometimes it makes my really angry.
I just caught a little of the show on my way to work, so maybe my irritation is unfair, but here goes anyway. Consider this “venting,” and humor me.
A scientist (a physicist, I think) was being interviewed by Guy Raz, and bits of his TED talk were being aired. The guest was speaking of how orderly the universe is, and the host asked the scientist—with appropriate interviewerly tentativeness—if this order might suggest that there was some intelligent designer behind this order.
The scientist acknowledged that people had made precisely this suggestion. It was called “the teleological argument for the existence of God.” The teleological argument suggests that all this order proves that there was a God who had brought about the order.
However, then the scientist made a statement that was one of the greatest logical blunders that I’ve ever heard anyone make. He stated that there was a lot more order than was necessary. Therefore, the argument for the existence of God was probably not so convincing after all.
What!??? The universe is too orderly to suggest that there was a creator God!!! You’ve got to be kidding me!
Of course, there are many who note the chaos in the universe, on this planet, in their families, and in themselves, and take that to be evidence that there is no God. I get that. Sometimes, that is how I feel as well. But to believe that the universe is more orderly than is necessary, and to think that this suggests that there must be some better explanation for the order than the God-explanation . . . , well, that I just don’t get.
There is something terribly wrong when we take the abundance of order as being a sign that God is not involved in the order. The Bible speaks of a God of abundance. When I’m paying sufficient attention, my own life speaks of the same.
Apparently, God just can’t win.
DTEB, “The Rider or the Horse?”
“Be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding,
which must be curbed with bit and bridle,
or it will not stay near you.”
(Psalm 32:9 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version,
I’ve never been much of a horseman—except in my mind. In my early horse-riding days, the horse would decide to go one direction, and I would go the other. It was a mutual decision to part company, I suspect.
However, in my affirmation this morning, I used an equestrian metaphor. Here is my affirmation:
“Today, by God’s grace, I am allowing God to have free rein in my life. God knows what I need to do and be far better than I know.”
Before I sent this affirmation to my sponsors, I decided to make sure that I was using the term correctly. Is it free “rein” or free “reign”, for one thing”
It is often spelled free “reign”, but this is incorrect. It is not a regal expression. It is indeed an equestrian expression.
So far, so good. I haven’t fallen off the semantic horse yet!
But one of my sponsors sent me a reply that caused me to dig a bit deeper. He wrote, “A horse is a very graceful and trustworthy animal. A horse will follow its path home.”
My reply to his email was, “A good horse will. I am slowly becoming a good horse.”
However, the more I’ve thought about it, the more inappropriate my affirmation has become. The horse does not “give free rein” to the rider. No! The rider may (or may not) “give free rein” to the horse. So, in the strictest sense of the expression, “to allow God to have free rein in my life” makes me the rider and God the horse. I’m not so sure that is a good analogy for my relationship with God.
Psalm 32:9 states that God does not want us to be a like a horse that requires a bit and a bridle. Apparently, God wants to be able to direct us without such tack.
Now the very fact that the psalmist—and God—speak to us in this manner suggests that we do often need a bit and bridle. Any time that my wife says to me, “Don’t be like that!” it is because I am, in fact, being “like that.”
But God does not want it to be so. God wants us to be so well trained that God can give us free rein.
Oh God, please love me into the kind of human horse you want me to be!
“Psalm 85:9
I will listen for the word of God; surely the Lord will proclaim peace to his people, to the faithful, to those who trust in him.”
“Let me hear what God the LORD will speak,
for he will speak peace to his people, to his saints;
but let them not turn back to folly.”
(Psalm 85:8 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
My problem is that I want to trust God, and I want to hear God speak peace to me and to this weary world. On the other hand, I really want to hang on to or return to just a little bit of folly. But having a little folly in my heart and mind is like having a few small mice in my house. Folly breeds folly—rapidly. There are some things that are mutually exclusive.
Foolishness is not a good thing, according in the Old Testament. Commenting on the adjective “foolish,” which is built off the same root as the word translated “foolishness” or “folly” in Psalm 85:8, one Hebrew lexicon has the following rundown on what the word suggests:
“. . . the kᵉsîl is not silent like the “wise”; rather his mouth reveals his “foolishness” (→ ʾᵉwîl 3; e.g., 12:23; 13:16; 14:7, 33; 15:2, 14; 18:2; 29:11, 20), and his false, evil (→ raʿ ) heart (15:7; 19:1; cf. Eccl 10:2) leads others “into conflict” and is a “downfall” and “trap” for the kᵉsîl himself (18:6f.; cf. 10:18). He spreads evil gossip (10:18), is dangerous to his neighbors (13:20; 17:12), disdains his mother (15:20), is grief and misfortune for his parents (10:1; 17:21, 25; 19:13). He is useless (26:6; cf. v 10; Eccl 10:15b) and takes pleasure in acts of shame (Prov 10:23; 13:19). He hates “knowledge” (1:22; 18:2) and is “wise” in his own eyes (26:5, 12; 28:26), an attitude that only more sharply emphasizes his folly.”[1]
This is not exactly the portrait of the man I want to be. It is, however, a snapshot of the man I sometimes am.
So, what will it be? Will I return to folly or not? Will I choose to set myself up to hear God’s
words of peace and well-being, or will I return to foolishness? Today—probably many times today—I will need
to make my choice. May I, may you,
choose wisely and choose wisdom!
[1]M. Sæbø, “כְּסִיל,” TLOT, 2:621.
Most of the wisdom I have (perhaps all of it) comes from other people. One of the guys in my 12-step group who usually criticizes himself for talking too much and rambling gives me a lot of wisdom. And no, he does not talk too much or ramble.
We were talking about three topics this morning, two of which were intimacy and vulnerability. Intimacy is not simply—or even mainly—about sex. Of course sexual intimacy is . . . well . . ., very intimate, but there are lots of other kinds of intimacy.
My friend, the non-rambler, gave me two wonderful sentences that connected and summed up these two topics nicely.
“Intimacy is showing yourself to someone.
Vulnerability is the cost and the risk of showing yourself to someone.”
It’s quite true! Being willing to show your true self is a risky business. Will the other person reject the real you? Will they talk to others about your self-revelation? Intimacy is far more scary than roller coasters, and I’m terrified of roller coasters.
We have a God who knows us inside and out, and who also welcomes us just as we are, with all our weaknesses.
“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account. Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
(Hebrews 4:12–16 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
Perhaps if we realized that, we might be a little more likely to risk intimacy with our fellow human beings.
Rabbi Abraham said:
I have learned a new form of service from the wars of Frederick, king of Prussia. It is not necessary to approach the enemy in order to attack him. In fleeing from him, it is possible to circumvent him as he advances, and fall on him from the rear until he is forced to surrender. What is needed is not to strike straight at Evil but to withdraw to the sources of divine power, and from there to circle around Evil, bend it, and transform it into its opposite. (Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: Early Masters)
Good counsel! Too often, we (I) try to tackle the enemies and problems in our lives head on. George MacDonald said that, whenever we try to do things without God, one of two things happen: Either we fail miserably, or we succeed even more miserably.
My dad was a good farmer, but he was an excellent repairman of farm equipment. I’ve watched how he operated when there was a particularly difficult problem to solve. He would stop, hum a little tune, light up a Camel cigarette, and look at what he was trying to fix from various angles. He was withdrawing to his source of mechanical power, and falling on the problem from the rear (or from the side). Except for the Camel cigarettes, I think my dad was on the right track.
When I can learn to take a similar approach consistently in the spiritual realm, I will be an even better man than I am right now.
“Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” (Hebrews 12:14 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Heb._12:14)
What are you pursuing?
The word translated “strive” in the verse that leads off this post is in the present tense in the original Greek. The present tense in Greek usually represents an ongoing or continual action. We are not to simply seek peace with other people, and holiness of life. We are to seek peace and holiness continually. Such pursuing is a pattern of life. Indeed, such pursuing is a life-style.
We will all pursue something: money, fame, security, love, acceptance, significance, the acceptance of others, power, sex. And no doubt, all those things have some goodness and validity as objects of pursuit. However, such pursuit can easily become not so good. In fact, such pursuits can become addictions.
But what about pursuing peace with everyone, as well as pursuing holiness?
Most of us probably know what peace might look like. At least, we think we know that. But what about holiness? What is it? Why is it necessary to pursue holiness in order to see the Lord? How do I pursue holiness? These are the questions that I am wrestling with these days.
This entire year, I am pursuing holiness. It is my main word for the year. (Choosing one word as my “word-of-the-year” is an idea that I picked up from Jon Gordon. Thanks, Jon!)
Hebrews 12:14, the verse that leads off this post, is my verse for the year. I am committed to pursuing a deep understanding of this one verse—not an intellectual understanding only. No! I am committed to pursuing (there’s that word again!) holiness and this verse with every fiber of my being.
Care to join me? Pursuits are more fun and more effective if you have companions!
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