on “Perfect Love”

iamlovedI’m highlighting the most powerful verses for me today, from I John, chapter 4.

…My beloved friends, let us continue to love each other since love comes from God. Everyone who loves is born of God and experiences a relationship with God. The person who refuses to love doesn’t know the first thing about God, because God is love—so you can’t know him if you don’t love…

My dear, dear friends, if God loved us like this, we certainly ought to love each other. No one has seen God, ever. But if we love one another, God dwells deeply within us, and his love becomes complete in us—perfect love!

 …

…There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

 

Read the whole chapter here. (various translations can be selected)

 

I’m wondering if we are getting this.

I’m wondering if I am.

It’s simple stuff, really. It’s the simple stuff that can trip us up best, I suppose.

If God and love are inseparable why do we pollute that with other ideas that make us unloving?

I write this during Lent and I am awaken to the sense that I should repent. (turn around or change direction)

This repenting stuff has to happen all the time if we are going to be more like God and more like love.

We get it wrong.

Just like getting off on the wrong highway exit. As soon as we realize it, we have to change direction.

We want to.

What better way to know you are on the right track than to see if fear is signaling you otherwise?

Off track, love is imperfect. Imperfect: meaning incomplete or malformed. And with incompleteness comes fear.

How liberating then is love.

How lovely.

SHOCK & BAWL: A Tale of Jeep Rage

Boston I-93 Tunnel

Creative Commons License Rene Schwietzke via Compfight

Somedays you need to read uplifting or humorous posts to soothe yourself. I GET THAT. Friday seems two weeks away. You and I both know that sometimes we must find a way to laugh so we don’t freak out on someone, or weep uncontrollably into our Dunkin’ Donuts napkin.

This is probably not going to do that for you. But, you can read it, and shoot up a quick prayer thanking God that you aren’t my spouse. So, that’s a pick-me-up. You’re welcome.

True Story:

Once I made a horrible driving error. I’m pretty sure it was the one and only time, but I completely cut someone off on the Interstate.

So, I swing into the passing lane and make a guy in a jeep brake and swerve. Panicked, and intolerably stupid, I flee the scene…by intricately weaving through traffic, no less. Maybe if I’m out of sight I can be out of mind too, I think. No, it’s actually more of a pure flight-or-fight response. I was about 7 year old at the time, and my frontal lobe was under-developed. 

Indeed, it’s all a crescendoing avalanche of foolishness. Incited, second motorist blows his horn and starts to tail me in a move of solidarity against vehicular injustice. Things are getting totally nuts. No doubt he’s readying a tall finger for my witness. My NASCAR lane changing moves soon best him, or maybe he realizes a highway fatality is too high a price just to send a hackneyed message.

As I flee I see the victim in my mirror. He’s frothing and out of his mind with rage. He’s waving limbs around in wild fury, gassing it. He’s in hot pursuit. It’s a Jeep thing, maybe.

Now, I’m terrified. I taste the bile in my mouth.

My heart pounding, I realize this all could end very poorly. And soon.

That blaze of glory stuff is an awesome idea until you start thinking about the minutia of funeral arrangements, or wreckage in general. Yes. The poor man swerved to avoid a smash style killing of both of us. It could have been a horrid pileup too. We truly had eluded death by narrow margins. 14 guardian angels later file grievances. 3 others walk off the job immediately in complete frustration.

Jeep guy was quite good at swerving, actually, and keeps up the swerving through interstate congestion to reach me. Maybe for seconds. Maybe for kilometers. Things are getting weird. A few truckers start honking, to support me, I assume. (They probably notice my professional driving acumen. What 7 year old can draft and weave with such precision? I’m a prodigy. Surely they recognize that. It’s a rush to have their approval. They’re pros after all and they know motoring prowess when they see it.)

At this point I realize Mr Jeep guy is going to try to pull some kind of payback stunt. He’s all in.

Battle of the Stupid Driving Stunts is the theme of the afternoon, but who can blame him? At this point, he’s jacked up pretty good. I’m in a subcompact. How bad will this get? Does he have a gun? Or, will he keep it simple and just run me off the road with a triumphant fist pump? Will I be late for Girl Scouts?

How is this going to end?

I do some quick thinking. Finally. Thoughts not just reactions. I mentally pat myself on the back as my synapses fire two or maybe three times…in a row with no problems!

Actually, I stopped breathing for 8 minutes.

They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Well, it is. I am inventing a solution with  an unfettered brain buzz that comes just before you die or you nearly die. I’ve scene this in the movies: It’s always in slow motion.

I do the only thing I think will hit the reset button. (Yes. I know there’s no real reset button. Curse you, Staples! Or Vanilla Sky…)

I decide on the element of SURPRISE!

Of course, I had just surprised him quite a bit a moment earlier by nearly snuffing out his life. “Surprise, dude!”

Yet, this is precisely why he will never see a second surprise coming. Really, I had him right were I wanted him.

(If only the roaring terror in my brain had let me enjoy that precious moment. Alas, no. Not at all.)

I enact my own creative SEAL 6 black ops tactic I now call:

Operation Boo-hoo.

It’s go time!

I burst into tears.

I cry.

Sob, really.
Or, I pretend to.

Who has the time to form actual tears at such a high rate of speed and in heavy traffic–before they’re about to be murdered in an act of heedless revenge? Me neither.

Armed with a fistful of tissues I wipe my eyes and feign bawling. A lot. He approaches in haste (of course, because he’s ready to kill me).

From me: Zero eye contact. (Like he’s not even there. A genius move. Remember that for later in your own travels.)

Peripherally, I see him. He edges up to my blind spot. Hovering. Ready to pounce.

He’s poised. He peers. He notices me. He witnesses total hysteria. …and then…mercifully… eases off. (Perhaps I turned out to be a 3 gallon bucket of mess and he only has a 2 gallon bucket that day.)

Yes, I counted on his attitude changing once he thought something else was going on with me. Something mental. Something suicidal or wickedly moronic–barely thwarted by his quick reflexes.

Or, just something too crazy to understand.

Shock and bawl.

I was going for, “Wha….?” 
Is it Grief? remorse? madness? sorrow? a lost puppy? What. is. the. deal?
Whatever…let me just say it worked. Perfectly.

Later, I rewarded myself with a new box of Kleenex…with aloe.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t armed with aloe tissues in the first place. But, never again.
Because that would be crazy.

If that was you in the Jeep, thanks.

I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you. We both avoided certain doom.

P.S. (I might have not been 7 years old at the time.)

Jump In! (Road Trip)

Tomorrow marks my first day of teaching a 12 week stint on Spiritual Formation. I’m relating the journey of faith with and toward God to a scenic road trip, like Route 66.

Early on, Route 66 was well-traveled as people moved westward for a better life. Decades later, it became a common vacation expedition for families in the 1950s and 60s. What is it now? It’s not any of that.

The huge Interstate Highway system made traveling West smooth, faster, and more direct. Many of the towns with roadside attractions, and the windy roads from Chicago to Santa Monica were all but abandon. Some sections remain, and for the nostalgic traveler or the lovers of adventure on open the road, no other route is more alluring than, the Mother Road–the famous Route 66. It’s the stuff of legends.

For those of you who can’t come on join us, in person, here’s a “postcard” from the first leg of the trip.

Before we set off on a genuine road trip, we usually get an idea of where we’re going, and who we’re going with. We might venture off the map, and we’ll certainly have unexpected happenings along the way. We can become anxious over what lies ahead, out of view; or we can keep optimistic, knowing that we trust our companions. We can adventure on, tackling whatever obstacles we need to. The truth is, our the destination shouldn’t overshadow our view or enjoyment of the journey. The journey is part of how we are trained for our destination. SO, here we go.

Here are 8 ways we learn during the Christian journey. Maybe you can think of some more.

  • Through the Holy Spirit
  • Through Scripture
  • In community
  • Spiritual guides/teachers
  • Through Sacraments
  • Through devotional practices
  • Through Christian History/Tradition

Which ones have helped you the most? Which ones have you left out the most? Thank you for sharing your ideas on this topic. Hop in, let’s go!

Next week’s lesson: God’s Grand Story

Spiritual Formation: The Scenic Route 66

 

I’ve decided to learn a lot more about the road termed “The Mother Road”…Route 66.

Along the way, I’ll post interesting sights from my findings, and I’ll also parallel this excursion to the one we take in our heart, toward God.

You see, no one needs to take Route 66. Faster, smoother, and bigger interstate highways make this route outmoded. No, folks get their kicks on Route 66 for the journey itself…to experience the epic route that is America’s most famous and alluring roadway westward.

Route 66, Chicago, IL

The picturesque course was established in 1926, and originally ran from Chicago, Illinois, through Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California, before ending at Los Angeles. It covered a total of 2,448 miles (3,940 km).

During the Dust Bowl days, in the early 1930s, people packed up and took this road to make a better life for themselves. In the 1950s, a trip on route 66 was a common family vacation, filled with plenty of sights, shops, roadside attractions, eating establishments, camping grounds, gas stations, and lodging choices. A virtual monument to Americana and campy kitsch. Now the trail ends in Santa Monica, CA, and parts of the old route have been long abandon or fallen into disrepair.

Still the mystique and history of the open road west continues to excite travelers to venture on various portions of the legendary Route 66.

Starting April 3, 2011, I will be teaching a class fashioned after this type of adventure, at Bethesda EC Church, called: Route 66: Adventures in Spiritual Formation. Part I will include getting familiar with the route and its ways: the epic trail God has in store for each of us. Part II will involve the experience of traveling it for ourselves. Two 6-week bursts. I hope you can come.

Various postings here will serve as a companion to the weekly excursions we will take…like postcards and journal entries from highlights and stops on the road.

So, Hop in. During April, May, and June, get hip to this timely tip, and we’ll find some kicks on route 6-6.

Now a question for you: What’s the best road trip you’ve ever taken?

 

 

 

Route 66, gas station, 1929