: a journal of our spiritual lives and experiences
May / June 2012
We shall live to see the day, I trust, when no man shall build his house for posterity…It were better that they should crumble to ruin, once in every twenty years, or thereabouts, as a hint to the people to examine into and reform the institutions which they symbolize.
-- Nathaniel Hawthorne, House of Seven Gables
Precipitated by our most recent move, I have begun again to think about "sense of place" or "homelessness" but in particular the sense of isolation Scott and I feel spiritually speaking. It isn't that we are so alone in our thoughts or feelings about the state of the Church - many we have met share similar thoughts with us. God has yet to reveal those who we feel led to partner with. Some of this is probably simply his timing. However, after reading Haggai a couple of weeks ago, I felt like something became clear. My sense after this re-read was that perhaps we, those of us dissatisfied with the status-quo, are afraid being homeless. We are afraid of not having a roof over our heads, of being isolated, lonely and vulnerable and of not knowing how long we will be homeless or what that home might look like if we ever find one. Yet, I feel certain that there is something so beautiful that can come from our sincere and together embrace of a period of homelessness. I feel strongly that a period of homelessness is exactly what is needed to move past dissatisfaction and onto something authentic, something different. Instead, what I see so often are lateral moves in response to these feelings.
I recently read a really good article online in which the author, Kim Fabricius, calls for an embrace of our homelessness as the Church in exile in response to the decline of the Church. He posits three dangers to living in exile: nostalgia, withdrawal and assimilation. For me, these words are perfect descriptions of the lateral shifts that I see so often. Nostalgia is the person who begins attending an "ancient" institutional church model. Withdrawal is the person is has stopped fellowship all together and Assimilation is the person trying to make the contemporary model more successful using the world's strategies.
Fabricius' most cogent point, and one that ties in beautifully with the Haggai story, is that exile in the Old Testament was always a sign of God's judgement on Israel. He writes: "Without this recognition, we rather too quickly start 're-imagining the future' […] without confessing and repenting the sins of our past – sins mainly of taking too much for granted, sins of apathy and lethargy, the sins of civic religion."
The story of Haggai comes with great conviction but with great promise as well. Haggai is instructed to ask the people, "Why are you continuing to dwell in and labor for your own homes while My house lays in ruins? Sadly, you work and work for your own things but it all comes to nothing. You don't have enough to eat, nor enough clothes to wear and the money you earn seems to slip through a bag with holes in it." It also says that the Lord calls for a drought on the grain, the fresh wine and the oil - three symbols of the Lord's anointing. So, God instructs the people: "Go up to the hill country for wood and begin to rebuild my house." The people repent and obey the Lord and this is what He promises them: "The latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former […] and in this place will I give peace and prosperity says the Lord of hosts." I don't think I know anyone who doesn't feel that that they are working only to see the money slip through their pockets or Christians who don't have a strong desire to see a greater sense of His Presence in their lives. Are we too busy building our own homes to notice His house laying in ruins?
Going up to the hill country represents for me this idea of homelessness. It's the period of time of leaving behind old comforts (the paneled homes they were dwelling in) and not hiding behind nostalgia, withdrawal and assimilation. Fabricius says, "Nevertheless, exile is just the right place to prune and refine, to explore and experiment, to make tactical critiques of cultural norms, and to practice that peculiar counter-cultural way of being human called 'discipleship" […].' I suppose my fear is that without this period of going up to the hill country - the repentance, the isolation and the hard work - all shifts will be lateral and, of course, for me this isn't enough.
I'm in the middle of an interesting read: Lucy Lippard's, "The Lure of the Local: Sense of Place in a Multi-Centered Society." I read the following thought-provoking quote: "We are part of a societal ebb and flow, people washing in and out of suburbs and cities. Like hunter-gatherers, we must go where we will be fed, where the jobs are listed… Whether we like it or not, we are bound together by that which may be the cheapest and ugliest in our culture - [brand names and Golden Arches and celebrity recognition]. These symbols and heroes may annoy us, or comfort us… at the very least they give us context." (Louise Erdrich)
I'm very afraid of this idea of "context." If I always gravitate toward a familiar context in periods of dissatisfaction how can anything ever change? Given what Scott and I just experienced, I feel certain that many people can't understand the pull of this comfort thing. Starbucks annoys me here but in Germany it comforted me. After all, I could get free wi-fi and water there but it was the same over-priced shit in a slick cup. Speaking of lateral shifts, moving to Germany made us keenly aware of our addiction to familiar comforts and our lack of patience with discomforts resulting from "exile."
If we can go without a roof for a while, if we can gather together and stay still and not too quickly "re-imagine the future," if we can be quiet and wait for the God's instructions for how to rebuild the house and if we can endure the loneliness and hardship of the trudge up to the hill country, then, possibly, I think something different might just happen.
- Alicia Laumann
April 2012
Our good friend Kyle Osland contributed this entry for the month of April. We think it's pretty great.
March 2012
"Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting."
Psalm 139:23-24
As I mentioned in a couple blog posts, I recently went away to seek God for several days. I had been feeling increasingly out of sorts with my relationship with God over the last many months and needed some serious time to pray. God spoke to me very specifically about what was wrong with me and I wanted to share this.
But first, let me tell you what my symptoms were. One of the ways in which I pray is to take very long walks. I have been blessed with miles of perfect trails out my back door, so I usually walk a couple times a week. I started realizing slowly that more often than not I was coming back from my walks completely unrefreshed, something that rarely would happen previously. I was spending the entire walk with my mind racing; it never settling down to quiet or to dialogue with God. Then I started noticing something very particular in the way I was talking to Him. It went something like this: "God, what is wrong with me? I know there is something wrong. I don't feel right." And then immediately, "Maybe it is my relationship with Scott. I've been so impatient lately. Or maybe it is Paloma. I was cross with her. No. God knows that I've been working on that. Maybe…." I realized that it had been months since I had actually spoken to God. I had posed questions to Him in my head but I hadn't actually asked Him anything as I would a person. My conversations were the mere rumblings of my mind like so many conversations that we have in our heads. The second symptom was that I stopped praying for people directly and when I started to I would often stop midstream realizing that I had little or no hope for what I was asking. And, finally, I felt a very specific stiffening in my heart: inability to freely worship, no singing around the house, no free prayer, etc.
In my journal I wrote this question on the first day of my journey: "Lord, what do you have against me?" On the third day of my journey, the Lord turned me to the book of Hebrews. He showed me from specifically the 3rd and 4th chapters that I had allowed a spirit of unbelief to take over my heart and that as a result my heart had begun to harden and I was unable to enter His rest. I think a couple of things were interesting to me. First, it was difficult to take in the fact that I was in sin. As far as I was concerned I hadn't done anything specifically to allow my heart to turn toward unbelief. Nonetheless, as Paul talks about over and over again, as believers - and perhaps more so as mature believers - we are responsible to be the caretakers of our salvation. We cannot be unaware of the wiles of the enemy nor can we assume that we are immune from such things.
Scott mentioned that recently he heard an entire message on a spirit of unbelief coming in as an attack from the outside. After much thought over the remainder of my trip, I feel that in my particular case I had entered into unbelief because of disappointment. I had assumed something would look one way and when my expectations were dashed, I let the disappointment slowly turn to withdrawal. "If I don't expect anything from God then I won't get hurt." It wasn't anger, just a pulling back. Again, because this was something that I had intentionally done I found it hard to repent. But I think that is Paul's point. Beware. This is not something that you do; it's something that you don't do. Do not neglect your salvation.
In a quick reading, I found three hints/ reminders as to just how to do that.
-- ENCOURAGE one another daily! (3 v. 13)
-- Allow the WORD to penetrate deep to discern the intents of the heart. (4 v. 12)
-- Come boldly through PRAYER, laying yourself naked before His throne of grace in time of need. (4 v. 16)
To summarize Paul: Jesus understands everything we are going through. Moreover, His sacrifice was more than adequate to cover whatever we've done wrong. So we need come to Him openly, boldly and often.
By the way, since my trip, I have confessed my sin. I shared everything with the community and I'm asking God daily to help renew my habits. It's amazing how permanent a few months of bad habit can feel. Every day I'm trying to ask questions directly of Him throughout my day. I need to train my ear to hear Him again. Secondly, I'm trying to sing more even when I don't feel like it throughout the day. And, finally, I'm trying to ask Him regularly to see if there is any wicked way in me, as David would, instead to talking for fear of the answer.
- Alicia Laumann
February 2012
Real Presence as Holy Mystery
A few years ago I began to feel that my understanding of the Lord's Supper was insufficient. Growing up in charismatic/evangelical churches, the little cups of grape juice and the tiny square crackers were distributed down the isles in their shinny silver round trays - each cup neatly separated. I need to poke fun of this because it needs to be made fun of. I don't feel bad at all saying that at the very least from an aesthetic and culinary perspective this "remembrance" lacks substance. I do appreciate from my upbringing the fact that communion was always directly connected with Jesus' words and that I have always know that God is truly with me and; thus, by extension He was with me when taking communion.
I ran across something really cool today on Wikipedia - an article describing the various doctrines of the Eucharist. Lately I've been saying that I'm nearly a transubstantiationalist because it was the only fancy word I knew to describe how I was beginning to see Communion. It has all been part of this journey to understand more clearly who God has created me to be and to find or create a Sense of Place for myself. For me, it isn't about a rejection of my past. It is about shoring up the more illusory aspects of it and incorporating them into my present is a way that is meaningful to me.
So…after a brief survey of the different doctrinal stances on the Eucharist I find that I'm a Methodist. For some reason that tickles me. Their theology on this topic is amazingly simple and that's what I like about it. They believe that Jesus is truly present in the bread and the wine as a Holy Mystery and they are content to allow it to remain a mystery. It's not a symbol and it isn't objective. It is somewhere gloriously in-between.
Jesus Christ, who "is the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being" (Hebrews 1:3), is truly present in Holy Communion. Through Jesus Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit, God meets us at the Table. God, who has given the sacraments to the church, acts in and through Holy Communion. Christ is present through the community gathered in Jesus' name (Matthew 18:20), through the Word proclaimed and enacted, and through the elements of bread and wine shared (1 Corinthians 11:23–26). The divine presence is a living reality and can be experienced by participants; it is more than a remembrance of the Last Supper and the Crucifixion.[8] (From Wikipedia - "Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist").
- Alicia Laumann
January 2012
Scott and I cannot seem to move past, or rather move into, the first thoughts expressed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Life Together. In fact, I think I've already written about them several times. These thoughts are simply this: "He who looks upon his brother should know that he will be eternally united with him in Jesus Christ. On this presupposition rest everything that the Scriptures provide in the way of directions and precepts for the communal life of Christians." (24)
A couple years ago I wrote an "Anti-Social Manifesto." It was my thoughts on why Christians should never socialize. I'd post it here but I think it would be too volatile. However, we just can't get away from the thought that when one believer comes together in the presence of another believer the only appropriate response and pathway for interaction is on the basis of Christ who is in one communing with Christ in the other, just as the God-head is in eternal and perpetual communion. "Wherever two or more are gathered together in my Name, there I am in the midst of them." There is an appropriate and reverent response whenever two believers come into each others presence. I feel that this must, for the most part, preclude idle chatter and activities. Though some surface banter may be unavoidable, it should never dominant any of our time together as Christians, not just set apart "sacred" times. In the presence of one another, Christ who is in us should take the preeminence of our actions, thoughts and discussions.
I truly believe that we have substituted God's provision for the need for communion, for fellowship, with the world's answers for this need. Socializing is a counterfeit remedy and one that will never really fill this God-placed desire. Bonhoeffer writes, "The more genuine and the deeper our community becomes, the more will everything else between us recede, the more clearly and purely will Jesus Christ and his work become the one and only thing that is vital between us." (26)
But how does this happen in our own lives? Do we suddenly make some sort of arbitrary pact with one another: "Okay, when we are together we can only talk about Jesus." What does this look like…Jesus as the only thing that is vital between us?
These questions make me feel like what we are in need of is a proposition. Propositions are something I briefly blogged about recently and something I really want to think about more intently. So, sorry for this overly technical quote, but bare with me:
"A proposition changes the terms of the relation, bringing them into new configurations. When Forsythe [a choreographer who creates and works with propositions to generate new material] proposes: 'drop a curve,' what he means is 'reconfigure the contrast, move through contrast.' If you tend to drop through your side, creating a curve from hip to shoulder, begin there. But go elsewhere with it. Put eyes in the back of your head and find yourself curving from back to knee. […] A proposition elicits a pattern that envelops the occasion into a potential for contrast. This contrast is not contrast between two already-givens. It is contrast awakened from within the potential of the occasion. […] [Propositions] propose not an outcome in itself, but a contrast. This contrast tweaks a persistent dynamic. The proposition moves us."
Erin Manning, "Propositions for the Verge - William Forsythe's Choreographic Objects."
Is there any greater "proposition" than the fact that the Creator of the Universe lives in us? Shouldn't that fact alone open up opportunities to challenge our patterns and provide occasions for "potential for contrast?" So that we, even though we may start in a habitual way, might begin to see the beauty in tweaking with this "persistent dynamic" and move elsewhere. Somewhere better perhaps?
- Alicia Laumann
December 2011
The end of the year has come with much busyness as we prepared for Christmas by constructing our Tabernakel, making our plans to visit Paris and finishing up a few creative projects before the start of 2012. Because the latter was not successfully accomplished, it left us with a feeling of lack closing the year, but gave us renewed vigor for the coming year.
We are thankful for many things this month. It's been a crazy year: two moves, one to Europe, living with 12 other people in community who we had not known, a foreign language we still do not understand, first grade for Paloma in an international school, and a big adjustment to daily public transportation to name a few. And while challenges remain, we are grateful for the chance to learn and grow in valuable ways.
2012 is a year of continued development for us creatively and spiritually. It's a time to apply the lessons we've learned over the past ten+ years and hopefully see the fruits of the seeds that have been planted over this time. It promises to bring more changes for us, but changes that will be backed with the convictions of a maturing faith and irreplaceable experience.
- Scott Laumann
November 2011
"Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, 'Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.' And Jesus answered and said to her, 'Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.'" - Luke 10: 38-42
Scott and I have long felt this strange sense of not being fully "adults" though both of us are almost middle-aged. We both know now that this sense of lack has a great deal to do with our understanding of our personal identities here on earth as believers and as artists. Our nomadic existence over the last 10 years has been fueled by this search for better understanding of ourselves and has ironically further exasperated our intentions.
In the last month Scott and I have come to a purer understanding of the anchor that for us is a life compass and must direct our terrestrial activities - a more deeply realized personal spiritual identity. We cannot be distracted with much serving, though this would seem counter-intuitive to the Christian's life. We must endeavor to be attached to the personhood of Jesus Christ though this active pursuit would look like laziness or lack of caring to the rest of the world. This is the point at which Thomas Kelley's understanding of the particularization of God's Concern becomes vital for us. He writes, "My cosmic love, or the Divine Lover, within me, cannot accomplish its full intent, which is universal saviorhood, within the limits of three score years and ten. But the Loving Presence does not burden us equally with all things, but puts upon each of us just a few central tasks, as emphatic responsibilities. For each of us these special undertakings are our share in the joyous burdens of love."
With the weighty concepts of social justice, world peace, global evangelism, etc. pervading all areas of Christendom, Scott and I have struggled immensely - especially as artists. "Where do we fit in, Lord? How do we serve you?" More and more the answers to those questions are coming into focus, but what is crystal clear is that it starts with attachment to Him, not a philosophy or a way of life. The outworking of that relationship is a central task - our share "in the joyous burdens of love."
On a more direct note regarding community life, one of the five values of Haus Bethanien is freundschaft or friendship. We have been discussing how friendship such as we have is only possible in and through our relationship to Christ. In the natural, we are way too diverse a group to be friends outside of this reality. I think that what is really powerful and wonderful right now is that Scott and I are beginning to experience the fruits of these relationships - the kinds of things that all humans need - companionship, laughter, help, etc. We feel that to the extent we are able to see the other person through the eyes of Christ is the extent to which these relationships, though perhaps not found on mutual human commonalities, is the extent to which these relationships will grow and last.
- Alicia Laumann
October 2011
May / June 2012
We shall live to see the day, I trust, when no man shall build his house for posterity…It were better that they should crumble to ruin, once in every twenty years, or thereabouts, as a hint to the people to examine into and reform the institutions which they symbolize.
-- Nathaniel Hawthorne, House of Seven Gables
Precipitated by our most recent move, I have begun again to think about "sense of place" or "homelessness" but in particular the sense of isolation Scott and I feel spiritually speaking. It isn't that we are so alone in our thoughts or feelings about the state of the Church - many we have met share similar thoughts with us. God has yet to reveal those who we feel led to partner with. Some of this is probably simply his timing. However, after reading Haggai a couple of weeks ago, I felt like something became clear. My sense after this re-read was that perhaps we, those of us dissatisfied with the status-quo, are afraid being homeless. We are afraid of not having a roof over our heads, of being isolated, lonely and vulnerable and of not knowing how long we will be homeless or what that home might look like if we ever find one. Yet, I feel certain that there is something so beautiful that can come from our sincere and together embrace of a period of homelessness. I feel strongly that a period of homelessness is exactly what is needed to move past dissatisfaction and onto something authentic, something different. Instead, what I see so often are lateral moves in response to these feelings.
I recently read a really good article online in which the author, Kim Fabricius, calls for an embrace of our homelessness as the Church in exile in response to the decline of the Church. He posits three dangers to living in exile: nostalgia, withdrawal and assimilation. For me, these words are perfect descriptions of the lateral shifts that I see so often. Nostalgia is the person who begins attending an "ancient" institutional church model. Withdrawal is the person is has stopped fellowship all together and Assimilation is the person trying to make the contemporary model more successful using the world's strategies.
Fabricius' most cogent point, and one that ties in beautifully with the Haggai story, is that exile in the Old Testament was always a sign of God's judgement on Israel. He writes: "Without this recognition, we rather too quickly start 're-imagining the future' […] without confessing and repenting the sins of our past – sins mainly of taking too much for granted, sins of apathy and lethargy, the sins of civic religion."
The story of Haggai comes with great conviction but with great promise as well. Haggai is instructed to ask the people, "Why are you continuing to dwell in and labor for your own homes while My house lays in ruins? Sadly, you work and work for your own things but it all comes to nothing. You don't have enough to eat, nor enough clothes to wear and the money you earn seems to slip through a bag with holes in it." It also says that the Lord calls for a drought on the grain, the fresh wine and the oil - three symbols of the Lord's anointing. So, God instructs the people: "Go up to the hill country for wood and begin to rebuild my house." The people repent and obey the Lord and this is what He promises them: "The latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former […] and in this place will I give peace and prosperity says the Lord of hosts." I don't think I know anyone who doesn't feel that that they are working only to see the money slip through their pockets or Christians who don't have a strong desire to see a greater sense of His Presence in their lives. Are we too busy building our own homes to notice His house laying in ruins?
Going up to the hill country represents for me this idea of homelessness. It's the period of time of leaving behind old comforts (the paneled homes they were dwelling in) and not hiding behind nostalgia, withdrawal and assimilation. Fabricius says, "Nevertheless, exile is just the right place to prune and refine, to explore and experiment, to make tactical critiques of cultural norms, and to practice that peculiar counter-cultural way of being human called 'discipleship" […].' I suppose my fear is that without this period of going up to the hill country - the repentance, the isolation and the hard work - all shifts will be lateral and, of course, for me this isn't enough.
I'm in the middle of an interesting read: Lucy Lippard's, "The Lure of the Local: Sense of Place in a Multi-Centered Society." I read the following thought-provoking quote: "We are part of a societal ebb and flow, people washing in and out of suburbs and cities. Like hunter-gatherers, we must go where we will be fed, where the jobs are listed… Whether we like it or not, we are bound together by that which may be the cheapest and ugliest in our culture - [brand names and Golden Arches and celebrity recognition]. These symbols and heroes may annoy us, or comfort us… at the very least they give us context." (Louise Erdrich)
I'm very afraid of this idea of "context." If I always gravitate toward a familiar context in periods of dissatisfaction how can anything ever change? Given what Scott and I just experienced, I feel certain that many people can't understand the pull of this comfort thing. Starbucks annoys me here but in Germany it comforted me. After all, I could get free wi-fi and water there but it was the same over-priced shit in a slick cup. Speaking of lateral shifts, moving to Germany made us keenly aware of our addiction to familiar comforts and our lack of patience with discomforts resulting from "exile."
If we can go without a roof for a while, if we can gather together and stay still and not too quickly "re-imagine the future," if we can be quiet and wait for the God's instructions for how to rebuild the house and if we can endure the loneliness and hardship of the trudge up to the hill country, then, possibly, I think something different might just happen.
- Alicia Laumann
April 2012
Our good friend Kyle Osland contributed this entry for the month of April. We think it's pretty great.
There is a desire
within me and in others I serve to layout a clear plan. To set measurable
goals, a timeline, etc. I know firsthand the productive benefit of these and
frequently use them in other areas of my life - like working out - to see
"tangible" results. It is the modern way and hence why the modern era
has produced more amazing feats than any other. Think about it - in 100 years
we learned to drive, fly, go to space, build bridges and dams, and skyscrapers
that literally fulfill the dreams of Babel. I, like others, bring this kind of thinking
to Scripture and Jesus. At our mega churches, we bring in corporate planners to
help us write them out: MAPS - Ministerial Actions Plans. But with the way I am wired, and I am
certainly not speaking for everyone, jumping into that process and that life ultimately
leaves me unfulfilled and spiritually unhappy. Because the other half of me
loves the fact that the Bible and Jesus seem to be the exact opposite of my
desires.
I ask for measurable
clear goals and an exact plan and the Bible gives me talking animals, angels,
and a poor woman that is pregnant with a Spirit child. I ask Jesus for an
equipping vision and university track and He gives me parables and metaphors
that don't make sense. He wanders around
with 12 guys that shouldn't be students, but crude tradesman that are like rich
construction workers and conniving tax collectors.
He spends too much time with them when he should be moving on - three years is
too long - yet he does it despite my knowledge of how quickly Starbucks trains
their entire staff. I assume this was His rustic cultural way, but then I
profess a Trinity that says He knows all of history and is actually the
smartest man that ever lived. Right when I get most frustrated and desire
something clear, I get more stories of giant fish that don't exist which eat
men and guys making the sun stand still and others killing couples because they
didn't obey or shadows that heal people. And the plan is a wildfire spreading these loose
groups of people all across a Mediterranean landscape
where most of them parish at the hands of corrupt Roman leaders and the mouths
of lions and the whole thing ends with a guy on an island who sees dragons that
try to eat babies and whole seas of glass. And through it all, these people see
a "city" that is far off where there is no abuse, no oppression, no
racism, where a person’s yes is yes and no is no, where divorce ends and love
prevents dehumanization of our little girls to products of lust.
Its really so crazy,
but more and more, I want to live a life where I see that. Reading George Fox,
he sure did. Crazy or not. So, I know the people want bread, hell I want bread.
I want a car that runs well. And people in our churches want the same thing. The
people want bread, damn it! They want a name - they want clear budgets. They
want a business plan for the small groups. They want us to divine the oracles
and give them hard ground to stand on. What nonsense. Even if we could, they
wouldn't be fulfilled anyway. What they need is to join the adventure Jesus is
calling them to so that they won't suffer a life of boredom before they die
from being over-stressed. The problem isn't making the adventure more
palatable, it’s getting more people to join the adventure. Sure the adventure
is scary, that's why it’s an adventure. But as Jesus warns, the story is
already over and it turns out all right.
When I was serving on
staff at a large church, we got up, while driving new cars and wearing nice
clothes and gave people "bread." But behind the scenes, when the
wizard pulled the curtain, we were greedy people who struggled for power, big
offices, and new computers. We spent
countless tithing dollars of little single house moms on retreats at the Hyatt.
People were still addicted to porn,
spouse abuse, drugs and alcohol. Only, it was behind the curtain - that's
all.
We are all on this
adventure and why we need each other to remain faithful to that journey. It’s
why we need true friends. Friends that don't agree or even see the same thing,
but share a supernatural bond that helps us love one another and be patient
with one another.
For some, and I mean
this truthfully, conforming everything to charts and graphs is exactly what God
wants them to do. I need to be reminded of this so that we are not homeless as
a family. But for me, when I dwell in the land of the prophets, and paint the
vision of how radical life could be outside the canonized imagination of the
world, I am being obedient. And this is true of Rob Bell and Walter Brueggemann and others and why I will defend them to the grave. What
sounds more like Jesus - to give up one of the biggest churches in America to
make movies with the guy who created Star Trek? It sounds like Cinderella coming to a party. It’s crazy. And this is why I think it may be
true.
- Kyle Osland
March 2012
"Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting."
Psalm 139:23-24
As I mentioned in a couple blog posts, I recently went away to seek God for several days. I had been feeling increasingly out of sorts with my relationship with God over the last many months and needed some serious time to pray. God spoke to me very specifically about what was wrong with me and I wanted to share this.
But first, let me tell you what my symptoms were. One of the ways in which I pray is to take very long walks. I have been blessed with miles of perfect trails out my back door, so I usually walk a couple times a week. I started realizing slowly that more often than not I was coming back from my walks completely unrefreshed, something that rarely would happen previously. I was spending the entire walk with my mind racing; it never settling down to quiet or to dialogue with God. Then I started noticing something very particular in the way I was talking to Him. It went something like this: "God, what is wrong with me? I know there is something wrong. I don't feel right." And then immediately, "Maybe it is my relationship with Scott. I've been so impatient lately. Or maybe it is Paloma. I was cross with her. No. God knows that I've been working on that. Maybe…." I realized that it had been months since I had actually spoken to God. I had posed questions to Him in my head but I hadn't actually asked Him anything as I would a person. My conversations were the mere rumblings of my mind like so many conversations that we have in our heads. The second symptom was that I stopped praying for people directly and when I started to I would often stop midstream realizing that I had little or no hope for what I was asking. And, finally, I felt a very specific stiffening in my heart: inability to freely worship, no singing around the house, no free prayer, etc.
In my journal I wrote this question on the first day of my journey: "Lord, what do you have against me?" On the third day of my journey, the Lord turned me to the book of Hebrews. He showed me from specifically the 3rd and 4th chapters that I had allowed a spirit of unbelief to take over my heart and that as a result my heart had begun to harden and I was unable to enter His rest. I think a couple of things were interesting to me. First, it was difficult to take in the fact that I was in sin. As far as I was concerned I hadn't done anything specifically to allow my heart to turn toward unbelief. Nonetheless, as Paul talks about over and over again, as believers - and perhaps more so as mature believers - we are responsible to be the caretakers of our salvation. We cannot be unaware of the wiles of the enemy nor can we assume that we are immune from such things.
Scott mentioned that recently he heard an entire message on a spirit of unbelief coming in as an attack from the outside. After much thought over the remainder of my trip, I feel that in my particular case I had entered into unbelief because of disappointment. I had assumed something would look one way and when my expectations were dashed, I let the disappointment slowly turn to withdrawal. "If I don't expect anything from God then I won't get hurt." It wasn't anger, just a pulling back. Again, because this was something that I had intentionally done I found it hard to repent. But I think that is Paul's point. Beware. This is not something that you do; it's something that you don't do. Do not neglect your salvation.
In a quick reading, I found three hints/ reminders as to just how to do that.
-- ENCOURAGE one another daily! (3 v. 13)
-- Allow the WORD to penetrate deep to discern the intents of the heart. (4 v. 12)
-- Come boldly through PRAYER, laying yourself naked before His throne of grace in time of need. (4 v. 16)
To summarize Paul: Jesus understands everything we are going through. Moreover, His sacrifice was more than adequate to cover whatever we've done wrong. So we need come to Him openly, boldly and often.
By the way, since my trip, I have confessed my sin. I shared everything with the community and I'm asking God daily to help renew my habits. It's amazing how permanent a few months of bad habit can feel. Every day I'm trying to ask questions directly of Him throughout my day. I need to train my ear to hear Him again. Secondly, I'm trying to sing more even when I don't feel like it throughout the day. And, finally, I'm trying to ask Him regularly to see if there is any wicked way in me, as David would, instead to talking for fear of the answer.
- Alicia Laumann
February 2012
Real Presence as Holy Mystery
A few years ago I began to feel that my understanding of the Lord's Supper was insufficient. Growing up in charismatic/evangelical churches, the little cups of grape juice and the tiny square crackers were distributed down the isles in their shinny silver round trays - each cup neatly separated. I need to poke fun of this because it needs to be made fun of. I don't feel bad at all saying that at the very least from an aesthetic and culinary perspective this "remembrance" lacks substance. I do appreciate from my upbringing the fact that communion was always directly connected with Jesus' words and that I have always know that God is truly with me and; thus, by extension He was with me when taking communion.
I ran across something really cool today on Wikipedia - an article describing the various doctrines of the Eucharist. Lately I've been saying that I'm nearly a transubstantiationalist because it was the only fancy word I knew to describe how I was beginning to see Communion. It has all been part of this journey to understand more clearly who God has created me to be and to find or create a Sense of Place for myself. For me, it isn't about a rejection of my past. It is about shoring up the more illusory aspects of it and incorporating them into my present is a way that is meaningful to me.
So…after a brief survey of the different doctrinal stances on the Eucharist I find that I'm a Methodist. For some reason that tickles me. Their theology on this topic is amazingly simple and that's what I like about it. They believe that Jesus is truly present in the bread and the wine as a Holy Mystery and they are content to allow it to remain a mystery. It's not a symbol and it isn't objective. It is somewhere gloriously in-between.
Jesus Christ, who "is the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being" (Hebrews 1:3), is truly present in Holy Communion. Through Jesus Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit, God meets us at the Table. God, who has given the sacraments to the church, acts in and through Holy Communion. Christ is present through the community gathered in Jesus' name (Matthew 18:20), through the Word proclaimed and enacted, and through the elements of bread and wine shared (1 Corinthians 11:23–26). The divine presence is a living reality and can be experienced by participants; it is more than a remembrance of the Last Supper and the Crucifixion.[8] (From Wikipedia - "Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist").
- Alicia Laumann
January 2012
Scott and I cannot seem to move past, or rather move into, the first thoughts expressed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Life Together. In fact, I think I've already written about them several times. These thoughts are simply this: "He who looks upon his brother should know that he will be eternally united with him in Jesus Christ. On this presupposition rest everything that the Scriptures provide in the way of directions and precepts for the communal life of Christians." (24)
A couple years ago I wrote an "Anti-Social Manifesto." It was my thoughts on why Christians should never socialize. I'd post it here but I think it would be too volatile. However, we just can't get away from the thought that when one believer comes together in the presence of another believer the only appropriate response and pathway for interaction is on the basis of Christ who is in one communing with Christ in the other, just as the God-head is in eternal and perpetual communion. "Wherever two or more are gathered together in my Name, there I am in the midst of them." There is an appropriate and reverent response whenever two believers come into each others presence. I feel that this must, for the most part, preclude idle chatter and activities. Though some surface banter may be unavoidable, it should never dominant any of our time together as Christians, not just set apart "sacred" times. In the presence of one another, Christ who is in us should take the preeminence of our actions, thoughts and discussions.
I truly believe that we have substituted God's provision for the need for communion, for fellowship, with the world's answers for this need. Socializing is a counterfeit remedy and one that will never really fill this God-placed desire. Bonhoeffer writes, "The more genuine and the deeper our community becomes, the more will everything else between us recede, the more clearly and purely will Jesus Christ and his work become the one and only thing that is vital between us." (26)
But how does this happen in our own lives? Do we suddenly make some sort of arbitrary pact with one another: "Okay, when we are together we can only talk about Jesus." What does this look like…Jesus as the only thing that is vital between us?
These questions make me feel like what we are in need of is a proposition. Propositions are something I briefly blogged about recently and something I really want to think about more intently. So, sorry for this overly technical quote, but bare with me:
"A proposition changes the terms of the relation, bringing them into new configurations. When Forsythe [a choreographer who creates and works with propositions to generate new material] proposes: 'drop a curve,' what he means is 'reconfigure the contrast, move through contrast.' If you tend to drop through your side, creating a curve from hip to shoulder, begin there. But go elsewhere with it. Put eyes in the back of your head and find yourself curving from back to knee. […] A proposition elicits a pattern that envelops the occasion into a potential for contrast. This contrast is not contrast between two already-givens. It is contrast awakened from within the potential of the occasion. […] [Propositions] propose not an outcome in itself, but a contrast. This contrast tweaks a persistent dynamic. The proposition moves us."
Erin Manning, "Propositions for the Verge - William Forsythe's Choreographic Objects."
Is there any greater "proposition" than the fact that the Creator of the Universe lives in us? Shouldn't that fact alone open up opportunities to challenge our patterns and provide occasions for "potential for contrast?" So that we, even though we may start in a habitual way, might begin to see the beauty in tweaking with this "persistent dynamic" and move elsewhere. Somewhere better perhaps?
- Alicia Laumann
December 2011
The end of the year has come with much busyness as we prepared for Christmas by constructing our Tabernakel, making our plans to visit Paris and finishing up a few creative projects before the start of 2012. Because the latter was not successfully accomplished, it left us with a feeling of lack closing the year, but gave us renewed vigor for the coming year.
We are thankful for many things this month. It's been a crazy year: two moves, one to Europe, living with 12 other people in community who we had not known, a foreign language we still do not understand, first grade for Paloma in an international school, and a big adjustment to daily public transportation to name a few. And while challenges remain, we are grateful for the chance to learn and grow in valuable ways.
2012 is a year of continued development for us creatively and spiritually. It's a time to apply the lessons we've learned over the past ten+ years and hopefully see the fruits of the seeds that have been planted over this time. It promises to bring more changes for us, but changes that will be backed with the convictions of a maturing faith and irreplaceable experience.
- Scott Laumann
November 2011
"Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, 'Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.' And Jesus answered and said to her, 'Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.'" - Luke 10: 38-42
Scott and I have long felt this strange sense of not being fully "adults" though both of us are almost middle-aged. We both know now that this sense of lack has a great deal to do with our understanding of our personal identities here on earth as believers and as artists. Our nomadic existence over the last 10 years has been fueled by this search for better understanding of ourselves and has ironically further exasperated our intentions.
In the last month Scott and I have come to a purer understanding of the anchor that for us is a life compass and must direct our terrestrial activities - a more deeply realized personal spiritual identity. We cannot be distracted with much serving, though this would seem counter-intuitive to the Christian's life. We must endeavor to be attached to the personhood of Jesus Christ though this active pursuit would look like laziness or lack of caring to the rest of the world. This is the point at which Thomas Kelley's understanding of the particularization of God's Concern becomes vital for us. He writes, "My cosmic love, or the Divine Lover, within me, cannot accomplish its full intent, which is universal saviorhood, within the limits of three score years and ten. But the Loving Presence does not burden us equally with all things, but puts upon each of us just a few central tasks, as emphatic responsibilities. For each of us these special undertakings are our share in the joyous burdens of love."
With the weighty concepts of social justice, world peace, global evangelism, etc. pervading all areas of Christendom, Scott and I have struggled immensely - especially as artists. "Where do we fit in, Lord? How do we serve you?" More and more the answers to those questions are coming into focus, but what is crystal clear is that it starts with attachment to Him, not a philosophy or a way of life. The outworking of that relationship is a central task - our share "in the joyous burdens of love."
On a more direct note regarding community life, one of the five values of Haus Bethanien is freundschaft or friendship. We have been discussing how friendship such as we have is only possible in and through our relationship to Christ. In the natural, we are way too diverse a group to be friends outside of this reality. I think that what is really powerful and wonderful right now is that Scott and I are beginning to experience the fruits of these relationships - the kinds of things that all humans need - companionship, laughter, help, etc. We feel that to the extent we are able to see the other person through the eyes of Christ is the extent to which these relationships, though perhaps not found on mutual human commonalities, is the extent to which these relationships will grow and last.
- Alicia Laumann
October 2011
"We
are apt to think that everything that happens to us is to be turned
into useful teaching; it is to be turned into something better than
teaching, viz. into character. We shall find that the spheres God brings
us into are not meant to teach us something but to make us something."
The Love of God—The Ministry of the Unnoticed, Oswald Chambers
The temptation is to view our time here as an experience rather than a process of faithfulness in the present. The tendency is to consider the present, the now, as only an incidental dividing point between past and future. When time becomes difficult, when we struggle with the dynamics of communal living, space and disparate personalities, our reaction is often a desire to escape, to retreat from the present. To do this
Dietrich Bonnhoeffer writes in True Fellowship about the the danger of confusing
Christian brotherhood with the natural desire of the devout heart for
community. First, that Christian Brotherhood is not an ideal, but a divine reality.
Second, that it is a spiritual and not a psychic
reality. This second point
Bonhoeffer
continues, "By sheer grace,
The
whole process of us coming to Germany and moving in with 12 other
people we did not know has continued to define how we consider
community. It has taken our ideas and put them to the test in ways we
could not have discovered outside of this reality. It continues to
cause us to examine the subtle, but enormous distinctions of
Bonhoeffer's second point above: the contrast between spiritual and
human reality.
- Scott Laumann
September 2011
It's our sixth month "anniversary" here in
Germany. In a month, we will have been here the same amount of time we
lasted in Philadelphia. Ever since we bolted out of there after
only 7 months, we have lived with a slight, but nagging sense of
regret. We left some great people there and we never really gave the city a
chance. So leaving Germany, as least for the foreseeable future, has
never even been an option.
Things were very hard over the summer. The
community seemed really disconnected -- especially spiritually. Scott
and I early on felt that the single best way for us to contribute to the
community was to do our art. We felt that the thought and work
generated by our efforts could bring in much needed points of connection
both within the community and without. But the summer was long and the
artistic drought seemed as if it would never end and the list of things
that swallowed up our time never grew shorter.
So, I don't know what happened, but something broke, something shifted. We took communion for the first time since we've been here in August. Was this the start?
Now, there is a decidedly new sense of hope. We are in the process of committing ourselves to a fuller spiritual rhythm as a group, meaning we will have more set (but optional) times of prayer and scripture reading for ourselves and other times of worship (some experimental and/or art events) open to the outside.
Physical, cultural and spiritual challenges remain, but His hope is bolstering.
- Alicia Laumann
June 2011
The last two days, I've been thinking about community, church and my relationships with other believers. I read excerpts by Shane Claiborne and wonder if I am an insensitive person. I view the points of mission for other ministries and feel that while they are admirable and hard to argue against, there is something lacking. In my own community, I wrestle with the underlying core values and wonder how I balance them all. What is most important? What is the thing that I desire or what thing is God is trying to reveal in me?
So, I don't know what happened, but something broke, something shifted. We took communion for the first time since we've been here in August. Was this the start?
Now, there is a decidedly new sense of hope. We are in the process of committing ourselves to a fuller spiritual rhythm as a group, meaning we will have more set (but optional) times of prayer and scripture reading for ourselves and other times of worship (some experimental and/or art events) open to the outside.
Physical, cultural and spiritual challenges remain, but His hope is bolstering.
- Alicia Laumann
June 2011
The last two days, I've been thinking about community, church and my relationships with other believers. I read excerpts by Shane Claiborne and wonder if I am an insensitive person. I view the points of mission for other ministries and feel that while they are admirable and hard to argue against, there is something lacking. In my own community, I wrestle with the underlying core values and wonder how I balance them all. What is most important? What is the thing that I desire or what thing is God is trying to reveal in me?
I find another gem out of Testament of Devotion by Thomas Kelly on the Blessed Community. In particular, pages 51 to the middle of page 54 define for me what I have desired in my fellowship with other believers and also what has been lacking in many ways in my fellowship. The paragraphs hit on a deep longing which cause me to grieve over the tenants and well-wishes of many movements. I feel it is simpler somehow, that this idea of following God is really about him. We must be absorbed into him. To me, the below excerpts speak to knowing God above all else. To how we fellowship with others and how ultimately, we are called to reveal the "siren song" of God as the true answer to life lived outside of him and those in him who have settled for something less.
"..."By no means is every one of our friends seen in this new and special light. A wholly new alignment of our personal relations appears. Some men and women whom we have never known before, or whom we have noticed only as a dim background fro our more special friendships, suddenly loom large, step forward in our attention as men and women whom we now know to the depths. Our earlier conversations with these persons may have been few and brief, but now we know them, as it were, from within. For we discern that their lives are already down within that Center which as found us. And we hunger for their fellowship, with a profound, insistent craving which will not be denied.
Other acquaintances recede in significance; we know now that our relations with them have always been nearer the surface of life. Many years of happy comradeship and common adventures we may have had together, but the we know that, at bottom, we have never been together in the deep silences of the Center, and that we never can be together, there where the light of Eternity shines still and bright. For until they, too, have become wholly God-enthralled, Light-centered, they can be only good acquaintances with whom we pass the time of day. A yearning over them may set in, because of their dimness of vision, but the eye-to-eye relationship of love which binds together those who live in the Center is reserved for a smaller number. Drastically and recreatively, Fellowship searches friendships, burning, dissolving, ennobling, transfiguring them in Heaven's glowing fire.
...See how these Christians love one another" might well have been a spontaneous exclamation in the days of the apostles. The Holy Fellowship, the Blessed Community has always astonished those who stood without it. The sharing of physical goods in the primitive church is only and outcropping of a profoundly deeper sharing of a Life, the base and center of which is obscured, to those who are still oriented about self, rather than about God. To others, tragic to say, the very existence of such a Fellowship within a common Life and Love is unknown and unguessed. In it's place, psychological and humanistic views of the essential sociability and gregariousness of man seek to provide a social theory of church membership. From these views spring church programs of mere socialibilty and social contacts. The precious word Fellowship becomes identified with a purely horizontal relation of man to man, not with the horizontal - vertical relationship of man to man in God. "
- Scott Laumann
May 2011
Dewey puts forth the following explanation for the forces (as evidenced through our modern day museums) that came together to create this chasm:
· The rise of nationalism and imperialism: every capital city must have its own museum for the exhibiting of the greatness of its artistic past and for exhibiting the loot gathered by the conquering monarch.
. The growth of capitalism: As people, governments and other institutions began to acquire wealth, they began to amass fine art as evidence of good standing in higher culture.
. The growth of capitalism: As people, governments and other institutions began to acquire wealth, they began to amass fine art as evidence of good standing in higher culture.
· The growth of economic cosmopolitanism: Mobility of trade and populations weakened the connection between works of art and the genius loci of which they were once a natural expression. The works become specimens of fine art and nothing else, the production of which is influenced by the economic patronage of wealthy individuals.
· Changes in industrial conditions: Artists are pushed aside to make way for the mechanized process of production and as a result must workout an isolated means (apart from the realities of daily life) of self-expression.
Dewey says that before this “art of for art’s sake” would not have even been understood. He writes: “The forces at work are those that have removed religion as well as fine art from the scope of the common or community life. The forces have historically produced so many of the dislocations and divisions of modern life and thought that art could not escape their influence.”
For the last several years, everything I read gets filtered through the following screen – “what has this got to do with my understanding of the Church?” Scott and I long ago felt a chasm between our aesthetic experience in church and the actual experience of our daily lives. Sunday church experiences were like walking into a museum, oohing and ahhing over the artwork that meant little to us and leaving the building completely unchanged because it had no connection with our daily lives.
· Changes in industrial conditions: Artists are pushed aside to make way for the mechanized process of production and as a result must workout an isolated means (apart from the realities of daily life) of self-expression.
Dewey says that before this “art of for art’s sake” would not have even been understood. He writes: “The forces at work are those that have removed religion as well as fine art from the scope of the common or community life. The forces have historically produced so many of the dislocations and divisions of modern life and thought that art could not escape their influence.”
For the last several years, everything I read gets filtered through the following screen – “what has this got to do with my understanding of the Church?” Scott and I long ago felt a chasm between our aesthetic experience in church and the actual experience of our daily lives. Sunday church experiences were like walking into a museum, oohing and ahhing over the artwork that meant little to us and leaving the building completely unchanged because it had no connection with our daily lives.
Of course, in reading those 50 pages, I couldn’t help but ask a few questions: Are our church buildings meant to exhibit the greatness of our past and “monarchically” collected “loot”? Do we amass (property, people, money, etc.) for evidence of good standing in higher culture? These are topics for another time…
But Dewey writes: “These things [the amassing of art and the buildings that display them] reflect and establish superior cultural status, while their segregation from the common life reflects the fact that they are not a part of a native and spontaneous culture.”
Something spoke to me in those words – native and spontaneous culture. Native – belonging to a person by birth. Reflecting back on this idea of Christendom made up of scattered seed, it seems that if the seed is to germinate and grow there must be a Something - a Substance - that is native to us and allows us to grow no matter what earthly culture we are planted in. I need to think about this more. Guten Nacht my fellow saints.
- Alicia Laumann
April 2011
Something spoke to me in those words – native and spontaneous culture. Native – belonging to a person by birth. Reflecting back on this idea of Christendom made up of scattered seed, it seems that if the seed is to germinate and grow there must be a Something - a Substance - that is native to us and allows us to grow no matter what earthly culture we are planted in. I need to think about this more. Guten Nacht my fellow saints.
- Alicia Laumann
April 2011
Within hours of touchdown in Frankfurt, I had virtually all of my doubts removed. Almost impossible to believe, it seems the whole package had been arranged before I even arrived: our city, our house, our community; all settled in less than a day. If we were going to move to Germany, this was definitely the place.
We are living under one roof with 6 other adults and 4 other children. Formerly run by nuns, the property is fairly large, about a mile outside of the old village of Karlsruhe up in the foothills. There is a small chapel on the site and one larger "guest" houses, which two nuns still live in. Three years ago, the nuns were in danger of losing the property and needed someone to occupy it. Through a series of events, Mark (my email contact) and his family took over the responsibility and had a vision of building community here. It's taken three years, but now it appears that we have completed the equation. We are getting to live out our many theories on church in actuality. Our adventure in community past, present and future will be the source of many posts to come.
- Scott Laumann
- Scott Laumann
