Reflections on Reflecting [or what happened with the Jesuits, part I]

Aside from my utter confusion in my first Mass experience (stand up, sing this, say that, sit down, pass peace, say something else…all things a casual Evangelical finds alien), I was so very filled and fortified by my recent all- day retreat at the Jesuit Center‘s Guided Day of Prayer (which was Lenten themed).

It stood together in contrasts:

  • A quiet and calm place & my restless and weary soul
  • Freedom in the boundless love of God & the the intricate, foreign  formality and rule of Catholic liturgy and Holy Communion.
  • Muted joy of Lenten season & the bright love and goodness of my spiritual siblings
  • A banquet of food and refreshment & the observing of stark silence
  • A wide open day of prayer and reflection & the speed at which it passed

A scheduled day of silent prayer retreat is something you might not know you need until you get it. I sat in the beautiful chapel and wept off and on for over an hour, much to my own surprise.

I found it amazing how God can use a place and others to all at once pierce and convict my sullied heart of sin and obstinacy while also flooding it with his omnipresent love and overflowing grace. Let me tell you, it’s healing.

But let me be clear: It’s healing, not in an “I feel all better now” type of way. It was very much like the “undragoning” spoken of in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. (I was Eustace Scrubb.) It smarts, but then too, it brings refreshment.

In the absence of noise and obligation you begin to hear, see, listen and perceive with keener clarity. In determined places and times of silence Reality becomes louder and more involved. Love becomes saturated in, through, and around you, the creaturely image-bearer of the Divine. You come again to the Center, the Real. Home.

Several analogies shared at guided portions brought me great insights. I’ll share those in soon in part II.

Many retreat centers offer space for a time of quiet and prayer for just a little money.  Here’s a directory to find one near you.

Getting my Monk on this Lent. [Blogs and Bondage]

wise wizard and guide Gandalf from Lord of the Rings

 

Today, I’m getting all Jesuit. I’m here with some monks, spiritual siblings, and the Holy Spirit doing an inward gaze with a Lenten focus.

Why? Because it’s good for me.

One of the genuine spiritual perils of blogging is becoming a slave to the blog, and technology in general. The fact is, when I use social media to promote my blog then more people read it. The unintended consequence is that I grow obligated to tend that thorny patch to keep things going.

The fine line between obligatory blog promotion and bondage is a surprisingly fine one. I check my stats. Is this post working? Which tweets helped the most? Who’s retweeting and passing along the message? When and how should I thank him or her? round and round…

The quick result is little carved out time of true unplugging. Something that will directly refresh my soul, establish healthy spaces and balance, sharpen my awareness to God’s will, and in fact create reservoirs in me for better blogging and interactions later.

It’s like going too long without water. Once dehydration sets in you stop feeling thirsty…when water is necessary to put things right again.

As bloggers (or any kind of humans) we must block out time for this true rest. Put it on the calendar in pen, and schedule it in like any other appointment. Otherwise, the urgent crowds out the crucial space and genuine pause we need. And, trust me, we suffer for it.

Have you ever gone on this sort of retreat? You know, a time away with…quiet, prayer, silent or common meals, great scenery, no technology, and maybe even a kind of spiritual Gandalf type guide to help you along the way?

I haven’t been to a monastery for a retreat, so I’ll be excited to share some of what I learn. FriendsPlease pray for me today.

See you on the other side!

Caleb Wilde breaks up Funeral Brawls. A lot.

This is Part II of my interview with 6th generation funeral director Caleb Wilde.

Caleb Wilde, Part II (click)

PLUS.

There is also Bonus Video material I decided to upload that largely contains my own thoughts on how we tend to wrongly respond to grief and suffering, followed by Caleb’s response.

It is an unbroken 4:24 min clip. This is also very unusual, as I usually feature very few of my own thoughts in Ninja Interviews. So, I didn’t even add the Ninja graphics into this clip.

Being that this is the season of Lent, it might be nice to hear your reflections on mortality. If you’d like to share you own thoughts about the theme of Lent, or what you’ve heard through watching the video, I’d love to hear them. (You can leave them either at the youtube channel, or here. Click the comments link at the top of the post, then scroll down to the comment field.)

Thorny Crowns

A crown fit for this King, our Sacrifice. Our selfless Savior.

The image and concept of the thorny crown is powerful to me. As heirs of the King, I think our “crowns” are, also, thorns–in this present world. We’re not here for glory in any human sense. Our “success” will look very different. It will be counter-cultural, or even unapparent.

The story of the thorny crown is a provocative one:
Imagine a mighty and good king coming from another place, and he is “welcomed” with the “honor” of huge, piercing barbs smashed down into his head.

This strange irony is such a perfect picture of our rejection of God and his ways. We pick our own way. Absorb the idea that God paid for your foolishness.

The thorny crown is also a most vivid depiction of God’s condescension (click here for and explanation of that precise meaning) to human form to bear our wrongs, and give himself over to our brutality to, in fact, truly redeem it, and pardon it.

Let this crown you see pierce your heart with it’s potency, and the doom that is our rebellion. We need a Savior.

How does the Crown of Thorns affect you?