brennan manning

Another Saturday in August

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I’m going on record to officially state that I am over summer. I don’t mind heat as much as I mind the humidity that seems to never go away. Lately, even the rain doesn’t help much but only serves to make things even muggier.

I still managed to hit up all my favorite Franklin places on this wet evening. As it turns out, wearing sandals was not the wisest decision I’ve ever made in my life. My feet ended up getting a bit wet due to the constant rain that fell during my whole time in Franklin.

I still managed to spend some quality time in my favorite church, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. I’m up to 20 minutes of silence with no interruptions by phones or tablets or anything else electronic. When you’ve grown accustomed to constant stimulation by social media, 20 minutes of nothing can seem like a really long time.

I still think that if I win the lottery or come into an unexpected windfall, I am moving to one of the houses on Fair Street. The whole street is like something out of a fairy tale or a George MacDonald fantasy novel. I’m not picky. I’ll take just about any of the houses there.

I almost forgot to mention that today was Serving Saturday for The Church at Avenue South. I’m not a gardener and I do not have a green thumb by any stretch of the imagination, but I got in some yard/landscaping work in, trying to unravel a tangled vine growing on one of the walls in the Room in the Inn courtyard. That was sweaty work.

My geriatric cat is on the pillow next to me as I type all this. She was snoring softly a little while ago but something woke her up for a bit (and she had that annoyed look before she went back to sleep).

I’m not too far behind her. I think I’ll send myself off to sleep with a little Gordon Lightfoot. See you all tomorrow night.

 

God’s Strong Love

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I found this on Pinterest and it spoke volumes to me. It’s amazing how C. S. Lewis can take the most complex and profound themes and break them down into something even I can understand.

This says it all. Our love is frail, but God’s love is strong. Our love fails, but God’s love lasts forever. We let each other down regularly, but God is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

We spend our time chasing after broken cisterns and useless idols, but God’s love is the overflowing and never-ending well that never runs dry.

Maybe one day we’ll finally understand just how deep and wide and long and high that love goes and then we can finally be content in it.

 

My Report for August (Borrowed from TCM)

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I’ve done this type of post before where I write about what I am listening to, reading, and watching in hopes that it might inspire you to share what you’re absorbing these days. Plus, if you’re stuck on ideas, these might be worth checking out at some point in the future.

Musicwise, I am obsessed with the songwriting of Lori McKenna. I’ve trekked home for two days successively with her albums Massachusetts and The Bird & The Rifle. Both are worth picking up if you happen to run across them in a record store. Both are filled with songs that remind me of why I fell in love with music in the first place.

Bookwise, I am about to embark on the latest in the Harry Potter universe with Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. I’m curious to see how this entry matches the tone and feel of the other books in the series (seeing as how it’s actually a stage play authored by someone other than J. K. Rowling).  I’m also extremely stoked to finally have my hands on a little devotional book entitled Seven Sacred Pauses by Macrina Wiederkehr (which I am fully expecting to rock my world).

I’m revisiting the strange and wonderful world of Twin Peaks, the short-lived, quirky, sometimes bizarre series that is slated to finally get around to its third season 26 years after the last episode aired way back in 1991. Maybe this means that Firefly will have a much-belated second season at some point in the near future? A brown-coat can dream.

Moviewise, I seem to be stuck on a Ingmar Bergman kick. Lately, I’ve watched both Through a Glass Darkly and Winter Light, two out of a trilogy based on Bergman’s struggle with God and faith. I don’t necessarily agree with some of his conclusions, but I have to admire that he was a brilliant filmmaker who was much more interested in creating art with a message than mass-producing eye candy that sells a lot of movie tickets.

That wraps up my report for August. Stay tuned for the next time I get around to writing about all the media I’m consuming. As always, I’d love to hear what you’re listening to/reading/watching these days. I just may add it to my ever-growing list.

 

Being in Love

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I decided to take the night off and let someone else do the heavy lifting. Here are some profound thoughts on being in love from one Mr. C. S. Lewis:

“What we call ‘being in love’ is a glorious state, and, in several ways, good for us. It helps to make us generous and courageous, it opens our eyes not only to the beauty of the beloved but to all beauty, and it subordinates (especially at first) our merely animal sexuality; in that sense, love is the great conqueror of lust.

No one in his senses would deny that being in love is far better than either common sensuality or cold self-centredness.

But, as I said before, ‘the most dangerous thing you can do is to take any one impulse of our own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs’. Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing.

There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all.

Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called ‘being in love’ usually does not last” (C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity).

While being in love may not last forever, choosing to love can. You may not always feel love but you can always choose to act in love. Love in the truest sense is a verb– it is an action, an act of the will, something intentional that you do.

Sorry if I ruined your romantic rom-com fantasies about the happily ever after. I truly believe that the real thing, though not as pretty and picturesque, is far far better.

“This is the embodiment of true love: not that we have loved God first, but that He loved us and sent His unique Son on a special mission to become an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10, The Voice).

Two Different Kinds of Prayer

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I’ve been mulling over what I heard from Chris Brooks at Kairos tonight. He spoke from Luke 18:9-14 about two men who went to the temple and offered two vastly different prayers to God.

One was very devout. He said all the right words and spoke out of a life that was consumed with faithfulness and devotion. He went above and beyond the minimum requirement. In terms of what most people look for, he was the model picture of faith. But God didn’t heed his prayer.

The other was a scoundrel. He knew it. His prayer was less of an exercise in devotion and more of a cry from the core of his being, almost a primal scream. “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” was his repeated refrain and his anguish took the form of beating his own chest while echoing a mantra of desperation. His is the prayer God heeded.

I’ve been guilty of trying to impress God with flowery language and pious phrases when what He really looked for from my prayers was transparency and honesty. What He longed for from me was my soul laid bare and my deepest sighs and groans laid at His feet.

I’m still figuring out the whole prayer thing. A lot of the time I feel like I’m praying to the ceiling, airing out my laundry list of wants and needs, and reciting rote words that sound and feel hollow and empty.

Sometimes, the best prayers are the shortest. A lot of the prayers that moved Jesus to action were less than ten words– “Have mercy on me, Son of David,” “I belief, help my unbelief,” “Remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

What matters most is not what you say or don’t say to God, but an attitude of confession and repentance with a heart willing to listen and to obey whatever Jesus asks.

What matters more than what we pray or when we pray or how we pray is that we pray. I believe God honors the earnest prayer offered in faith, even if the words aren’t right (or even if there are no words at all).

Just pray.

 

Farewell to Lorien (and to Another Golden Age Actress)

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“Crying farewell, the Elves of Lórien with long grey poles thrust them out into the flowing stream, and the rippling waters bore them slowly away. The travellers sat still without moving or speaking. On the green bank near to the very point of the Tongue the Lady Galadriel stood alone and silent. As they passed her they turned and their eyes watched her slowly floating away from them. For so it seemed to them: Lórien was slipping backward, like a bright ship masted with enchanted trees, sailing on to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey and leafless world” (J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings).

Few are probably aware of it, but the world lost another star recently in the passing of Gloria DeHaven. She was another from the golden age of Hollywood who has slipped away from us.

I love watching Turner Classic Movies because I feel as though I’m stepping back into a simpler, less complicated world where it was easier to tell the good guys from the bad, where love was something worth fighting for, and where the cause of the just prevailed.

The world portrayed in these old movies is more and more a relic of the past with so many of the virtues and values seemingly going extinct in a world where more is better and where everything needs to happen NOW.

Seeing the old black-and-white does something good for my heart. The same goes for Technicolor. A lot of the newer movies may look and sound better, but they ain’t got the same soul (to appropriate a line from a Bob Seger song).

The old movies were about telling stories about real people who laughed and cried, loved and lost,  lived and died. There weren’t any CGI effects– just witty dialogue and fleshed-out characters.

I’ll have to look up one of Gloria’s movies and watch it in her memory. RIP to another from a golden age gone forever.

Your Own Echo

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Someone made a very astute comment on Facebook recently that has stuck with me. Basically, what he said was “how can you grow if all you ever hear is your own echo?”

He meant that how could you ever mature and learn if all you ever listened to and read were people who only expressed those views you agreed with? How could you continue to expand your horizons if you shut out any dissenting opinions and opposing viewpoints?

That’s a valid question.

If you want to grow, I think it’s good to occasionally read a book that you know you will disagree with. It’s good to listen to someone who espouses a different worldview than you. If you lean to the left politically, maybe read something or listen to a speech given by a conservative, and visa-versa.

You’ll probably get angry with what you read. But then you have to ask yourself why you’re angry. Is it that what the person is saying causes you to doubt your own viewpoints? Or maybe have you fallen into the trap of demonizing anyone who disagrees with your worldview?

You’ll know you’ve reached maturity when you can disagree with something or someone and still respect their arguments that are put forth in a civil manner. You can choose to see that people have the right to believe differently than you and that maybe if you had shared the same experiences you might have a similar viewpoint.

I’m still hoping that we can reach the point where we can sit down with our political opponents and talk through our issues rather than blasting each other from a distance and spouting hateful rhetoric and insults.

It’s best to take everyone else more seriously and take yourself a lot less seriously. Remember that there’s a lot yet that you don’t know, so keep an open-mind when it comes to people you disagree with. We could all learn something.

 

 

Six Years Later

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Lost in all the hoopla over both the Republican and Democratic National Conventions and all the madness that ensued was the fact that recently I celebrated my sixth anniversary of blogging for WordPress.

Part of me feels that it can’t have been six years because the time has gone by so very quickly. Another part of me is shocked that I’ve only been doing these posts for six years because I feel that I’ve grown so much since that very first one way back in July 28, 2010.

C. S. Lewis wrote that often on a daily basis you can see very little change, but when you look back over a number of years you see a huge difference between your present self and your former self. Time can be deceiving in that way.

I truly believe that monumental change happens in the form of daily small changes that happen over time. Every 10,000 mile journey begins with a single step and the daily choices you make that take you either closer to or further away from your desired destination.

I’m thankful for a vehicle like WordPress that makes it easier for me to get my thoughts out there into cyber-land. I also love the fact that it corrects my bad spelling so that you think I’m smarter than I really am.

My advice for those who want to write is two-fold: 1) find your own voice and 2) stay true to it. Finding your own voice means that you tell your own story and not someone else’s. It means that you write about what you know and what makes you come alive. Staying true to your own voice means that you write what’s in your heart, not what you think others will want to read. Most of all, just write.

Thanks, everybody, for six amazing years. Here’s to at least six more years of me writing and you reading.

 

Maturity

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I’m laying (or is it lying) in bed, typing this as I listen to the rain pounding on the window. There’s something comforting to me about storms when I am safe indoors and not out driving in one.

I’ve been thinking about something quite a bit lately. In theory, we’re the most tolerant society, yet in practice we are anything but. We talk a good game about how we tolerate anything and everything, yet wait until someone disagrees with us or spouts a political view that is opposite to what we hold dear and see just how tolerant (or intolerant) we really are.

It’s about maturity. How do you react when you speak your opinions and someone contradicts or criticizes you? How do you take criticism?

Once again, I do not mean that you meekly abide under verbal or physical abuse. I do not mean that you allow someone to berate or insult you and not defend yourself.

I do mean someone who disagrees with your beliefs or convictions. How tolerant are you then?

I confess I don’t like criticism. I may not always show it, but I tend to be defensive and angry when I get told I’m wrong. A lot of people are that way.

Maturity means you don’t always have to agree 100% with criticism, but you can always find some nugget of wisdom there. You can always use the negative comments to spur change for the better within yourself.

It’s one thing to be steady in your convictions, beliefs, and actions, but it’s quite another to live outside of any accountability in a place where no one can ever correct you for a perceived mistake or unwise choice. You need at least one person whom you give the permission to speak into your life, even if that means they can tell you the truth about when you’re out of line.

Maybe we can get to the place where we can actually have an open dialogue and listen to what those on the other side of the debate are actually saying instead of the all-too-common haranguing, name-calling, and demonizing that characterizes much of what goes on in politics and society.

Maybe we can get to the place where we welcome dissenting voices that will challenge us to examine our own beliefs and convict us to live in such a way that our actions match our words.

God help us all.

My Occasional Political Soapbox Rant

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It feels like an extended full moon season the way people are acting. Actually, it’s just election season, and people have lost their ever-loving minds. In response, I broke from the norm and wrote a rare political rant. Here goes (deep breath):

Rant for the day: It seems to me as long as the two-party system is in play, both parties are all too willing to play up the other side as being evil and how you must vote for our candidate unless you want “them” to win.

There’s an underlying sinister attitude on both sides that says, “You’re gonna take what we give you and like it. If not, there’s the door. The other side will be glad to have you.”

Sadly, too many are too willing to drink either the blue Democratic or the red Republican kool aid. Too many are selling out their own ideology and beliefs to tote the party line instead of thinking for themselves. Too many will turn a blind eye to the faults of their side while magnifying the faults of the other side and demonizing anyone who disagrees with them in any way. The end result will most likely be more of the same, regardless of the outcome. Here endeth the rant.

The point I’m making is that people are once again willing to believe that politics as usual can solve what is ultimately are deep spiritual problems that no human candidate (male or female) can solve. Once again, most will be disappointed when they find out the result is politics as usual.

I’ve mentioned it before, but it bears repeating. After this election, we will have a new president, but Jesus will still be King. In four (or eight) years when the next one steps into office, Jesus will still be King. After the last President, Jesus will still be King.

My hope isn’t in what some politician will do in the distant future or in the promises he or she makes. My hope lies in what Jesus has already done and in the promises He’s fulfilled. I’m banking on the fact that whatever I am afraid of and whatever obstacle lies in front of me Jesus has already overcome and defeated on the cross.

My hope is not in Trump or Clinton. My hope is still in Jesus.