Looking ahead

Forgetting what's behind and straining toward what's ahead: here's something exciting for the new year! 

Ah, but what is it?

BOLO: Spiritual Reality

Be On the Look Out for something extraordinary in the ordinary.

Various branches and schools of philosophy have mused for years, really since the invention of musing, about the relationship of the physical body, the mind, and the spirit or what some call the "essence." This preoccupation with these three elements is understandable; it is truly a fascinating subject. The three are functionally distinct yet highly interdependent. As neuroscience delves more deeply into the mysteries of the human brain the relationship between the physical body and the mind becomes even more interesting. Emotion, personality, memory, instincts, intuition, all of these are hardwired and filed away somewhere in the folds of the human brain. So then, is that which we call a "mind" really just another somatic organ? On the reverse side, it has been proven that psychological depression actually has physical symptoms as well and those who are in a happy or content frame of mind generally have more energy than those who do not.

Fascinating as that topic may be, it is the spiritual element which concerns me today. The term "spirit" can refer to many different things depending on your background, beliefs, and taste in movies. Some believe the spirit to be that eternal part of you which continues after you die as a ghost or an angel. Some believe it is your personality, or that force which drives the vehicle of the body through life made of dreams, desires, and pluck. Sometimes we refer to the "human spirit" as the sort of transcendent attribute common to every human on the planet, that which links us together as a species. But all seem to agree that the spirit is metaphysical.

Still, on this side of the bright light, the spirit is trapped inside a physical body and undeniably effected by physical and mental influences. For example, when someone is sick, tired, cold, etc. they are also often in "low-spirits." Similarly, someone excited, who's physical body is buzzing with adreneline, is described as being in "high-spirits." Likewise, we know that when we are emotionally sad or physically ill, we begin to question our spiritual health as well. At the end of a long battle with a disease, we may see someone lose the will to live; the driving force of the spirit is weak. Though the exact nature of the relationship is hard to describe, the relationship exists.

If you believe that the spirit continues after the end of the body or in an afterlife, then that makes us mortal yet oddly eternal creatures. Rather than just an interesting quirk, this changes how we live mortally. The specific manner of change depends mostly on your specific beliefs. This is the point where I tighten the lens even more and talk about Jesus.

Christians often talk about spiritual life and spiritual death. In a nutshell, this has to do with that inexplicable change that takes place in our spirit when we release our life to Jesus and accept His sacrifice. We use words like, "rebirth", "regeneration", or "redemption", but they all boil down to a new life in our spirit. Specifically, the life of Jesus. When we release the authority of our spiritual life, submitting it to God, we're spiritually revived; entirely new, yet retaining the essential elements of who we are.

"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God [Jesus Christ], who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galations 2:20 

Actually, that verse explains the phenomenon much better than I did. The process sounds a bit weird and maybe even spooky, but then, what spiritual things aren't a little weird? And therein lies the trouble. Because spiritual things are,in fact, metaphysical and extrasensory they are not only exempt from empirical observation, it is hard to figure out what to do about them.

This is an excerpt from today's reading in My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers:

"Jesus rarely comes where we expect Him; He appears where we least expect Him, and always in the most illogical connections. The only way a worker can keep true to God is by being ready for the Lord's surprise visits. It is not service that matters, but intense spiritual reality, expecting Jesus Christ at every turn. This will give our life the attitude of child-wonder which He wants it to have. If we are going to be ready for Jesus Christ, we have to stop being religious (that is, using religion as a higher kind of culture) and be spiritually real."

"Spiritually real." This is the hard-to-define goal that we strive for while the clock is still ticking, spiritual reality. Not simply acknowledging that we have something called a spirit, but letting it be as real as our physical body or mental processes. Or maybe we could call it the manifestation of the spiritual in the physical, or, even better:

"...carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body." 2 Cor 4:10

Chambers says that being "spiritual real" means living in the expectation of seeing Jesus Christ, His life, His power, and His purposes where we least expect them. Not overspiritualizing or reading hidden meaning into ordinary things, but, in general terms, seeing the inherently extraordinary quality of ordinary things. The result of such a life is, as Chambers describes it, an attitude of "child-wonder."

This life could be and, no doubt, will be described as naive and impractical. But, when the firm foundation of what is commonly known as "reality" begins to crumble and disappoint, as it inevitably will, that child-like spirit not only endures, but continues to see Jesus even as the security of the world wanes.

Sarah Elizabeth

BOLO: Artistry

"You are my friend, you're special to me. There's only one in this wonderful world. You are special" -Fred Rogers

Sometimes I wish we put more stock into children's songs. This morning I took a walk with my baby boy
through the cemetery to a park near my house. I've mentioned before, I love this walk. I was especially excited this morning because spring is getting more present each day and it brings such relief to my winter-weary heart. I took my camera with me hoping to catch a few peeks at spring as she timidly sticks her head out of the ground.

I must admit I was a bit disappointed. As I let my eye sweep the landscape I still saw plenty of bare branches, and washed out flora. As humans, our eyes are draw to those things which stand out. We enjoy bright colors against a faded background or a unique, even dissonent, melodic line in a symphony. Even watching the many decorating or home improvement shows available, you can almost be sure to expect one of the hosts to use the word "pop" at least once in the show. We like things that pop.

So as I look at row upon row of gray-green sagebrush I realize that the reason I find it so ugly is that I cannot see anything unique. I felt irrational pity for the little buds on the sagebrush and how utterly mundane they must feel. But just then, God surprised me then with a miniature little eden hidden between some trees. I was humbled by my snap judgment that everything was still dormant and gray.

I realized that when you only look at the whole, you miss these little things. We exaggerate the importance of seeing the "Big Picture," I think. I think sometimes all we see is the big picture and not the incredible elements that comprise that picture. That is the basis of true artistry, being able to see beauty where others see only a monotonous backgrounnd, and being able to draw that beauty out. Can you predict where I'm going with this?


Maybe it has to do with my post yesterday from Middlemarch but, even as we humans love those things that "pop," we rarely feel that we are the ones "popping." We feel gray and drab, lost amidst a sea of other gray drab things. But God (I love that phrase!), the greatest Artist, sees the unique character in each of us. He can draw and highlight the beauty in each just by changing a lens, adjusting the light, or changing the composition just a bit. And I think that's extraordinary.

"So remember, God made you special and He loves you very much!" -Bob the tomato and Larry the cucumber

Book Review in Progress: Middlemarch

I am currently wading my way through Middlemarch by George Eliot (Marian Evans). I chose to read this book somewhat arbitrarily after I finished Anna Karenina and A Study in Scarlet (I had just watched the new Sherlock Holmes). Incidentally, if you're looking for a somewhat quick read that still engages your brain, give Sir Arthur Conan Doyle a try. There are endless short story options as well a full length novels (including A Study in Scarlet) and the premise of the Sherlock Holmes story is well known enough that you do not need much of a back-story.

At any rate, after surmounting Tolstoy's monstrous pinnacle, I freely admit I was looking to turn off my brain for a bit. I absolutely loved Anna, but she wore me out. So much so, that I even considered taking a detour into Forks for a few weeks but resisted the temptation (and the angels rejoiced). So after considering Chesterton (decidedly lighthearted with that lovely talent of turning mac and cheese into nouilles et fromage en casserole, which is, I think, a talent reserved for British authors) and Dickens, who is likely my favorite author. But I had just read Great Expectations by the latter and I'm really not sure why I passed up Chesterton but at any rate, after a few weeks of searching for a lighter, shorter, less character-driven novel than Anna, I decided to read Middlemarch.

???

Could I have picked anything less appropriate? Over 900 pages long, this novel is a subtle and quiet kind of story painted against the backdrop of the tedious banalities of a Victorian province, Middlemarch. An that is how the story feels at first glance, tedious and banal. I can see how this tediously banal, backdrop is essential to tell Evan/Eliot's story but, heaven help me! I have prided myself on my ability to endure what lesser folk would call 'boring.' I admit I was taken down a few notches, which is really very good for my character. I had to force myself to continue by sheer tenacity, but, oh, I am glad that I did!

This particular passage just made me giddy and I very nearly dropped my precious kindle and did a happy dance.

We are not afraid of telling over and over again how a man comes to fall in love with a woman and be wedded to her, or else be fatally parted from her. Is it due to excess of poetry or of stupidity that we are never weary of describing what King James called a woman's "makdom and her fairnesse," never weary of listening to the twanging of the old Troubadour strings, and are comparatively uninterested in that other kind of "makdom and fairness" which must be wooed with industrious thought and patient renunciation of small desires? In the story of this passion, too, the development varies: sometimes it is the glorious marriage, sometimes frustration and final parting.

The appeal here for me is manifold, not the least of which is the description of woman's enchanting nature upon man. Liberated and enlightened as she may be, a girl still appreciates that. Vanity aside, the description of our romantically sympathetic nature delighting in the "twanging of the old Troubadour strings," placed against our relative disinterest in those other pursuits which, unlike Love, are won not by slaying dragons and seeking treasure but rather by "industrious thought and patient renunciation of small desires" is positively masterful. Placing the two side by side as she does makes us recognize how we are simultaneously wooing Love and wooing Life and are dismally less interested in the latter.

She continues:

And not seldom the catastrophe is bound up with the other passion, sung by the Troubadours. For in the multitude of middle-aged men who go about their vocations in a daily course determined for them much in the same way as the tie of their cravats, there is always a good number who once meant to shape their own deeds and alter the world a little. The story of their coming to be shapen after the average and fit to be packed by the gross, is hardly ever told even in their consciousness; for perhaps their ardor in generous unpaid toil cooled as imperceptibly as the ardor of other youthful loves, till one day their earlier self walked like a ghost in its old home and made the new furniture ghastly.

That middle-life frustration that may or may not lead to the crisis is the fruit of just such a Scrooge-esque encounter between a man and the ghost of "Aspirations-Past." The real tragedy is not just the disappointment of a man's expectations but the realization that the world is utterly indifferent to it. Of course this tragedy applies to both sexes, especially today, but it seems to be felt more intensely by the male half of the species. I will not, at present, venture to guess why but it seems to make the sufferer even more pitiable.

She walks, perfectly balanced, upon the fine line between poetic metaphor and practical analysis:

Nothing in the world more subtle than the process of their gradual change! In the beginning they inhaled it unknowingly: you and I may have sent some of our breath towards infecting them, when we uttered our conforming falsities or drew our silly conclusions; or perhaps it came with the vibrations from a woman's glance.

This is a neat idea, the spread of conformity and degeneration of innovation through infection. It paints a more depressing picture than perhaps is accurate but is definitely a well suited backdrop for the story being told. So I trudge onward through the desolate landscape of Middlemarch hoping to find more pieces of treasure hidden in the dust along the way.

In His grace,

Sarah Elizabeth

BOLO: Servanthood

The life of a Christian must, by nature, be the life of a servant. Just as "the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many," (Mark 10:45) so we also are to live not expecting to be served but seeking to serve those around us. In our effort to be servants and encourage servanthood we sometimes end up praising that which ought to be a matter of course for those who claim the name of Jesus. The trouble with true servanthood is that is is often not commended, requires a great deal of humility, and usually has great personal cost. It is not so glamourous or comfortable as simply doing something kind for a friend or clearing tables after a church potluck, though these are great places to start.

Jesus said it is no great feat to love your friends, true selfless love means loving those who hate you and, by inclusion, those who simply do not know you or do not care about you. It is humbling, even embarrassing, to love and serve a stranger. I find it easier to be anonymous when I demonstrate love to others, often hiding behind a claim that I do not want praise for my deeds. The truth is that it is more difficult to love someone face to face with my own hands. This kind of love requires a personal connection and these connections can be uncomfortable. But it is more impacting for someone to know that I personally care for them than that a faceless stranger does.

One example, relevant to most, is the call to love and serve people in the workplace. This does not only mean being polite or abstaining from water cooler gossip, though, again, these are great starting points. Rather it means treating others as we would beloved friends. It is in this place, outside the loving environment of our church building, that we have to reconcile our identity as a Christian with our identity as an employee, an American, and a human. As an employee, American, and human we are told we have certain rights and are encouraged, in what is sometimes a dog-eat-dog environment, to look out for our personal rights. However as a Christian we are told to be a servant to those even who 'spitefully use us.' This may mean picking up the slack for a slower coworker or making sure you give each task your best effort, menial as it may be, or you continue to respect a supervisor who does not respect or appreciate you.

There is a "but what if," that hangs in the air at this point. Generally it is something like, "but what if my coworker is not doing his/her job? Am I not obligated to report that behavior for the benefit of the company? Isn't 'picking up the slack' simply enabling bad behavior?" This argument can be translated into many other situations but, with the exception of a parent-child relationship, it simply does not hold water. Essentially this argument claims that my responsibilities to protect and serve myself, my company, my country, society, etc., trump or negate my responsibility to be obedient to what Jesus says. This is just not the case.

The voice of the Devil's Advocate (what a terrible term!) in my head quotes, "Faithful are the wounds of a friend, But the kisses of an enemy are deceitful" (Proverbs 27:6). This is a faithful bit of wisdom advocating loving honesty over empty flattery, but I would charge myself and any other to make sure that I am meeting the biblical standard of a friend before I start dealing wounds. If we're looking at the example that Jesus set, this means actually laying down your life for that person. This should definitely give us more than a few seconds pause before we start dishing out our 'tough' love.

In another effort to find and manifest "extraordinary things in ordinary places," it is my proposition that we take one of the most ordinary parts of our lives, our work, and love people in a selfless servant-like manner. Practically, this means doing more than expected and more than required (Mt 5:41), responding in love and encouragement to the complaints of others (Hbr 10:24), gently refusing to participate in slander and gossip (Pro 10:18), and giving extra to those who take from us (Mt 5:40). Because we know that we have been redeemed by love, let us also live redemptively, spreading the kind of love that heals and rebuilds those around us.

In His Grace,

Sarah Elizabeth

BOLO: Earth Mirrors Heaven

Dia Daoibh!

Generally speaking, spring is not my favorite time of year. I do not enjoy the cold much and by the time spring rolls around I am so tired of the wet and cold that I cannot enjoy this season much. I have to admit however, that there are not many things that can bring me so close to heaven as sunrise on a spring morning. There is an ethereal quality about cool air, pale light, and the sounds of the earth waking. I don't appreciate that enough.

I took a walk this morning through the cemetery as the sun was rising and I had one of those moments when it seems as if you're breathing in more than just oxygen (& nitrogen, etc.); it's as if you're breathing in life. It's a lovely bit of irony that it is at a memorial for the dead that I feel so alive. Irony makes me smile. There was no purpose to that time, no goal nor subject of my ruminations, I was simply walking with my Friend and I realized that I had forgotten how easy it is to love Him. You see, it had been a while since I simply walked with God.

At any rate, it was at that moment that I realized how so much on earth seems to reflect the promise of heaven. The reflection is not clear, as in a mirror, but rather more like the whispery reflection of the sky in hot sand. These "heat waves" are created as the sand absorbs the heat of the sun and then, in turn, releases that heat back toward the sky.

It struck me that, though I do want to be purposeful in my love for others, I do not have to try to enjoy spending time with a friend. We are designed to love one another. It is our natural resting place to take joy in our relationships though, sadly, much happens to muck up the process. Every relationship we have, father, mother, sister, brother, friend, or lover, these are all just shadows of the relationship can have and will have with Him.

As we absorb the love of God, we become so saturated with it that, like waves of heat rising from the desert, that love emits from us in shimmering waves, hinting at the promises of heaven. I cannot comment confidently on all the other religious systems of the world, but I do know that, as a Christian, God designed a beautiful system for us as we pass time here on earth.

That, my friends, is something extraordinary in the ordinary.

Beannacht De leibh!

Sarah Elizabeth

BOLO

One of my favorite visual art serial compositions recently introduced me to the term "BOLO," it means: "Be On the Look Out." The term came back to me this morning as I was, once again, doing some soul searching on the purpose of Welcome to Love.

The foundation of Welcome to Love is, obviously, love, universal, accepting, transforming, agape love. We seek it for ourselves and as Christians are called to share it with others. This is the calling that drives this place, sharing love with others in a transforming and purposeful way. The purpose, love, is clear but the method has not been so apparent.

I'd like to share a little bit from my journal this morning:

"The trouble here, kids, is that the stories that really matter are the ones that are lost and forgotten. They are not interesting to us because they are our own stories. They are boring. We cannot see the extraordinary in the ordinary. We're afraid to seem ridiculous or overly joyous in the simplicity. The truth is that every moment truly is a miracle, a gift. Every person who walks through my life matters. They have a story, a dream, and a purpose. Each story is precious and each life has a plan. I don't have to know it but I have to believe it and be moved, be changed, by it."

The general trouble is that we do not recognize anything extraordinary in the ordinary. This is what drives us, drives me, to boredom, depression, fantasy and escapism.There are wells of extraordinary hidden beneath dusty and ordinary covers. Behind the fading paint of the neighbors house, there is the beauty of humanity that we have come to regard as mundane. We are surrounded by need, purpose, beauty, drama, and life but have dismissed all of it in favor of canned drama pouring out of our television sets and none more guilty than I.

Though the method has not been fully born yet, perhaps a small foot has emerged from the cloud: the need to recognized the extraordinary in the ordinary. So I issued a BOLO of sorts to myself to watch for these. To pull my head out of my dreams and see the dreams in the people. It is my prayer that each little extraordinary-in-the-ordinary "sighting" will build into a lifestyle of loving "ordinary" people for that which God sees as extraordinary.

As a good faith payment, here's a gratuitious little "sighting" for you:

I've noticed that cleaning has a miraculous effect on my well-being. It's catharic, useful, can last as long as you want it to last, gives you a wonderful sense of accomplishment when you are done, gives you a wonderful opportunity to reflect on the purpose of your blog, and as a bonus it makes things clean! I cleaned my grimy range for 2 hours yesterday and was in a good mood the rest of the day!