The Celtic Monk

My spiritual journey along with taking me inward to a deep interior life -- occasionally takes me outward in search of new ways, new experiences, new things. This week my quest for God brought me to St. John's Abbey in Collegeville Minnesota...to spend a week practicing the art of group spiritual direction with friends from the Shalem Institute. Our time together since Thursday has been rich indeed. Full days of being both intentional and gentle with one another as we intend together to open space for God to speak into our lives and our spirits. It is as fully as I've ever experienced a prayerfully orchestrated kairos moment where waiting on God takes precedence over all else. It's an exercise in trust and freedom... where a core experience and gift we offer one another is a total lack of judgment. There are no fixing conversations...no oughts, shoulds, or subtle spiritual one-ups-man-ship conversations. It's an intentional time of grace. Outside the ten foot by ...

As I tiptoe through Mark's Gospel, I continue to be aware of his reality based description of the disciples. Mark sugar coats nothing about this gangly bunch who at one moment appear to understand profound truths and in the next display the insight of a toad. Time and again Jesus shows them the mysteries of a life of faith and they fail to understand. So time and again Jesus gathers them around and once more teaches them all that human eyes and understanding cannot comprehend. I've to come to believe it's not in the grasping of holy truth, it's not in our perfect understanding much less perfect execution of holiness that God looks for in a disciple. [consider Peter] Rather, God looks for the mystical center of a disciple: a heart that is willing to break over the things that break God's heart; men and women who daily waste time with Him and have the conviction to act on what they find in those encounters. The mystical center of a disciple is seeded and establi...

The lesson of this mornings sermon was how to reflect the LIGHT that God sent into the world, rather than being part of the quarelling darkness for which Paul chastizes the church in Corinth. It was a call to a way of life instructed not by human understanding -- but by the deeper things of God which can be ours when we seek them. Living in the LIGHT demands more of us than being a clanging cymbal; yet we all have the potential to live as brightly shining lamps. It does however take intention on our part. We must choose to reflect our higher calling. We must desire to be God's witnesses in season and out. We must make time to devote to 'gazing on God, and having God gaze on us.' Being LIGHT is what we offer God as our grateful response for all God has done for us. It doesn't happen by accident or mindlessly, but only with our will submitted to Christ. Being a clanging cymbal is much easier. To be a clanging cymbal all we have to do is engage our mouth with any tho...

Friends have come to our aid in ways great and small since hearing about our car accident on Saturday morning. The phone calls and emails have meant so much. The loan of a vehicle for Sean and Shana, who don't have rental car insurance, was over the top. It's an amazing thing belonging to the Body of Christ, and to the Presbyterian Church in Peace River. I thank God at every remembrance of each of you who have reached out to us in Christian love. While we wait for insurance companies to sort out the mess of tangled cars and wait to learn what we need to do next, I am aware of the blessing of having all four of us: Sam, me, Isaac and Lauren walk away from so much destruction. Polly said it well, "your angel was with you." Presbyterian's aren't known for speaking about angels much, for which there are likely myriad reasons. Such spiritual beings seem alternately spooky, childish or anti-intellectual to most. Not worth considering to others. And yet... Over the y...

Yesterday was a roller coaster ride of experiences and emotions. In the morning I said good-bye to the congregation of Moorings Presbyyerian Church which I served for a little over 18 months. From the farewell, I enjoyed lunch with new friends and then off to preach for the installation of the newest member of Peace River Presbytery at Vanderbilt. A warm welcome of a new ministry is so heartening, both for the minister and the congregation. The words of promise and affirmation to Ed on the occasion of his new call renewed my hope in the Church. I keep finding myself in bittersweet times like yesterday. Sad to be leaving a place where, my heart tells me, my work was not yet finished. Yet at the same time excited for what God has in mind. It feels as though I am living at the vanishing point. I can well see what was behind and cannot yet see what's ahead. The constant in the divergence of experiences yesterday was the center of peace amidst the emotions. In the morning when Ki...

I often make a little detour on my way home that takes me through the protected wetlands that surround the airport. On any given day its like going to the zoo. There are anhinga's drying their wings, wild pigs and turkey, deer,egrets, giant blue heron and in season several sand hill cranes. At dusk one day this past spring a panther crossed the small access road right in front of my car! Also depending on the season I watch the water level of the wetlands rise and fall. Since it's our rainy season, the once parched fields look like perfect lakes that stretch on and on. All manner of animal and foul make their way around the fertile shore looking for a meal. No matter the stress of my day one loop through the wetlands has almost an anesthetizing affect on my soul. I'm so please to catch a glimpse of one of God's 'wild things.' I feel so privileged to have this opportunity to observe these creatures in their natural habitat just being what they were meant to ...

Friday was a big day. Our three year old grand-daughter Lauren arrived at 7:30 in the morning ready for a full day of fun things to do. On the schedule was a little maintenance around the house, a trip to the beach, haircuts for all of us and then a trip to the play park to dig up a few artifacts. Twice during the day, I listened to a new phrase from Lauren that I'd never heard before. "Hey Papa, Wait Up!" The first time he'd walked out the front door and out towards the car port. Not knowing where he was going was more than she could stand. And a 'hey papa, wait up" sounded as she ran after him. The second time was at the beach as we bobbed in the warm Gulf waters. Papa had already done a little diving to find treasures in the sand and brought back several live sand dollars that we held in our hands and watched the soft hairs around their breathing hole open and close. Then as we sat in the shallow water, he'd told us to sit very still as a pod of...