Do this to remember me.
After supper, he did the same thing with the cup:
This cup is my blood, my new covenant with you.
Each time you drink this cup, remember me.
As we were getting ready for bed last night we got talking about how much stuff we have. We’re reminded of this regularly since our main storage area also has the laundry and a shower in it—so you see these things that you don’t really use very often. Some of it is definitely important like our winter clothes, my drum cases, and some bins of old papers and/or toys from our childhoods. Sometimes it feels like the wall of storage is encroaching on the rest of the room! If we were in a bigger place we’d probably have it tucked away somewhere else. But in the same breath, we’d also have bought more stuff to fill a larger home! Endless cycle!
One of the things I love about Sarah is that she’s so good at deciding what is important to keep and what she’ll never really use again. She goes through her clothes on a regular basis and what she doesn’t think she’ll use anymore she gives away. When I was a kid and a teenager Mom would do the same with me: sit me down and we’d go through the old cupboard. Cleanse things out. Make room for what we actually need for today.
I’m thinking of looking at spiritual disciplines as a series for Sunday school in January. I’ve been wanting to do something with Richard Foster’s book Celebration of Discipline for some time now, but I’m still not sure this is the best outlet. The chapters in Celebration are already so well arranged that I think any one of them would be hard to present in a 45-minute segment. Also Foster highlights 12 disciplines…and I have room for maybe 4-5! So I’d have to pick some and skip others. Part me of just wants to hand copies of the book out: “Here. Read this through and then come back and we’ll talk about it when you’re done.” I wonder how’d that go over?
The Christian Discipline of simplicity is an inward reorientation which, in turn, transforms the way we go about living life. Inward to outward, always both. What begins inside of us will permeate our outward experiences. Out of the heart the mouth speaks, so I’ve heard. Here’s Foster:
Contemporary culture lacks the inward reality and outward lifestyle of simplicity. We must live in the modern world, and we are affected by its fractured and fragmented state. We are trapped in a maze of competing attachments. One moment we make decisions on the basis of sound reason and the next moment out of fear of what others think of us. We have no unity or focus around which our lives are oriented. …
We really must understand that the lust for affluence in contemporary society is psychotic. We crave things we neither need nor enjoy. … We are made to feel ashamed to wear clothes or drive cars until they are warn out. The mass media have convinced us that to be out of step with fashion is to be out of step with reality. It is time we awaken to the fact that conformity to a sick society is to be sick. . . .We should take exception to the modern psychosis that defines people by how much they can produce or what they earn.” (Foster, Celebration of Discipline, 80-81).
Foster paints it pretty bleak, and I’m not saying that everyone is sucked into this 100%. But it’s hard not to think of real experiences when I read this. Especially the stuff about mass media. It’s one of the reasons why Apple drives me nuts. They redesign their iPods so quickly that once you buy one it’s not long before you feel that they missed out, and then you feel the need to upgrade sooner than you would really need to. It’s the same now with Amazon’s Kindle e-book readers. I’m sure the same thing goes for cellphones, but I don’t really know.
Simplicity. I’d rather ignore all the rubbish of having the newest and the fastest and get my inner life straightened out first. Out of that I know I can be a better husband, a better employee, a better son, a better drummer, a better person. The fundamental reorientation of the heart and mind, when set aright by God, can really transform our attitudes and the way we go about living day-to-day. I’m far from this. But Foster helps to point us in the right direction. I’m glad for voices like his that can cut through the system and get us thinking again.
If you’re still reading this than kudos to you! Way longer than I intended for first thing Saturday morning! Have a great weekend.
When Sarah and I were at Regent this summer we had the opportunity to eat lunch with some students taking full-time studies. Among the students we met was a man named Theran, currently working on his MCS. As I was perusing Regent’s YouTube channel ‘underthegreenroof’, I found this video, a student video project for a class on John. As it turns out, it was one of Theran’s class projects—a visual poem, a marriage of literary and visual media evoking metaphor. I touched base with him and said that I wanted to share his poem on my blog. He agreed. So here it is, and I hope you enjoy it:
Hands from Theran Knighton-Fitt on Vimeo.
Here was his description of the project:
This was the creative project for a class on the book of John in the New Testament "John: the Life of God to the World" In the Summer Term of 2011 at Regent College in Vancouver Canada. The class was taught by Rikk E. Watts. Of the various project options I chose the one that included an academic paper and a creative project.
For my paper I looked at the idea of how water is used in John as a polyvalent symbol and how it interacts with other symbols - specifically wine and blood.
Here is the first paragraph of the paper
“In this paper I will show that John’s unique use of polyvalent symbolism effectively communicates Christ’s mysterious, all-encompassing invitation to partake of his life. I will argue that Johannine symbolism invites us into a higher story, a mystery that normal words cannot express. I will show specifically that the nature of John’s symbolic use of water shifts throughout his gospel in such a way that it becomes more inclusive and invitational as it progresses. I will also outline how the all-encompassing invitation in his water symbolism plays itself out: as its meaning shifts, as it interacts with other symbols, as it speaks to Jewish tradition, and, ultimately what the invitation means for us as we are included into the life of Christ. In Christ all things hold together and in John’s water motif we see God bringing together many things in Christ.”
As you can imagine not everything was able to be included into this visual poem that tries to express these themes. Also, being art, it takes on its own identity too and as such it is not just the video demonstration of the academic paper. However the themes all intersect and my choice to do a creative project instead of a longer paper was specifically related to the idea that I believe John's use of symbolism and imagery more effectively communicates truth than mere academic argument. So to do justice to John, one needs to think and communicate creatively…
This is one of the reasons why I find Regent’s programs so intriguing—they allow for creative projects such as these to work alongside paper-writing to create moments of reflection on faith and life.
Be well, my friends.
Nik
One of biggest changes that college wrought in me was a new perspective on my faith. There’s this phrase C.S. Lewis uses where he thinks of our imaginations being “baptized”, that is that our faculties—our hearts, minds, spirits, what have you—are enlarged in order to better experience or understand or take in that which we were before unaware of. My imagination was enlarged in an attempt to grapple (not fully understand mind you, but to witness and acknowledge) the vastness of God: his transcendence, his immanence, his humanity in Christ, his mystery in Spirit. That was day 1: Theology I, actually. And it was onward and upward from there.
I mentioned once before that I’ve been reading Luci Shaw’s Breath for the Bones. At one point she’s talking about journal-keeping, and how when we re-read our journals it’s like taking a helicopter ride back over a landscape where before we had only walked or hiked. At the time we saw only the particulars, the individual ups and downs of the experience. In reflective hindsight we see the whole scope of the thing, be it a year or a decade; and we can get a sense of the lay of the land, so to speak. Spiritually this can be really helpful, for so often in the day to day we miss out on the overall theme. We can’t see the forest through the trees.
This idea of looking at life by the small blips or by the vast panorama can come into play in how we read the Bible. I know for myself, one of the things which Eston encouraged in me was to read whole books in one sitting. I seldom actually did this, but the value was not lost on me: in reading the whole of say, Ephesians, or John, we can see how the whole thing works. Now we might not dissect and analyse the thing as we’re doing so…and that’s perfectly alright! For that tendency to study the text should not, I think, come before first reading the text: hearing it as a Story. Getting into the lives of the characters, seeing how they went about working out their relationships to God…how God was working out making himself known to them. We let the text work on us.
I like how Eugene Peterson puts it in his introduction to 1 & 2 Samuel in The Message:
The biblical way is not so much to present us with a moral code and tell us “Live up to this”; nor is it to set out a system of doctrine and say, “Think like this and you will live well.” The biblical way is to tell a story and invite us, “Live into this. This is what it looks like to be human; this is what is involved in entering and maturing as human beings.” We do violence to the biblical revelation when we “use” it for what we can get out of it or what we think will provide color and spice to our otherwise bland lives. That results in a kind of “boutique spirituality”—God as decoration, God as enhancement. The Samuel narrative will not allow that. In the reading, as we submit our lives to what we read, we find that we are not being led to see God in our stories but to see our stories in God’s. God is the larger context and plot in which our stories find themselves.
Such reading will necessarily be a prayerful reading—a God-listening, God-answering reading.
I love that. And I feel drawn back into that world that I discovered in those years at Eston. For they encouraged us in that same way…not to see God as an object to be studied, but as the Subject within whom we find love and forgiveness and wholeness again.
So, I’m on a mission to read in wholes. And what I love is that this requires imagination-living. Not that we’re making things up! But we need our imaginations baptized if we’re to be able to see our day to day lives, and our day to day reading of Scripture as part of something bigger.
This morning I happened upon a video which is what first enticed me to write some of these thoughts down:
N.T.Wright "The whole sweep of Scripture" from Rodica on Vimeo.
Favourite line: “Frequently and thoroughly!”
So may you see whatever is on your plate today as a part of the bigger story of your life. May you know that no matter how difficult things might seem, that there is One who knows you, who feels your pain, and wants to guide you through it. And may you read not with the intention of mining out some small particular for personal pleasure, but may you find yourself immersed in God’s goodness as you are “swept along” by the Story.
Back to work today. Working straight through for eight days until we leave for Vancouver. Can’t believe we’re actually going. Feels very surreal.
Onward to more reading!!
Here’s another excerpt from C.S. Lewis’ The Great Divorce.
We pick up where the shade of the intellectual man is deep in conversation with his old friend and fellow thinker; the latter has been sent to offer the invitation of the journey toward heaven to the other.
Near the end of their conversation the intellectual gets frustrated by the prospect of losing the forum for free inquiry—that is the sort of plays we make in asking questions indefinitely: challenging one another, entertaining new thoughts and philosophies; and yet ultimately coming to no real conclusions (or perhaps believing that no true conclusions can be made at all). He is repelled by the idea that in God there are the final answers. Check it out:
“But you must feel yourself that there is something stifling about the idea of finality? Stagnation, my dear boy, what is more soul-destroying than stagnation?”
“You think that, because hitherto you have experienced truth only with the abstract intellect. I will bring you where you can taste it like honey and be embraced by it as by a bridegroom. Your thirst shall be quenched. . . .
Listen! . . . Once you were a child. You knew what inquiry was for. There was a time when you asked questions because you wanted answers, and were glad when you had found them. Become that child again: even now.”“Ah, but when I became a man I put away childish things.”
“You have gone far wrong. Thirst was made for water; inquiry for truth.” (C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce, 40-41).
This reminded me so much of my freshman worldview class with Brian Tysdal. Brian was (and still is, I’m sure) incredibly passionate about the nature of truth.
We usually think of truth as those objective, empirical facts. But what if there is more to knowing truth than intellectual understanding? It’s hard to comprehend. And maybe that’s the point here: that by severing our intellect, our reasoning faculties, from our imagination we’ve also lost the ability to understand truth as something more than a scientific laying-bare of facts or figures. Perhaps capital “T”, Truth, as Lewis suggests here, is something that God intends to be tasted and embraced. Perhaps when we come to see Him face to face, tasting and embracing will better describe our experience of knowing the Truth. This sounds like relationship language doesn’t it?
Jesus describes himself as the Way, the Truth and the Life (John 14:6) If a person is Truth, then that means that as I enter into relationship I enter into Truth. Relationships involve the engagement of the whole person—including, but not limited to, the mind. I feel that in this moment, Lewis is on to something very special: not only does he hit the nail on the head in terms of our adult understanding of truth as only abstract intellect, but he points to a deeper reality, a poetic, reality which invites the heart as well. I want to know the One who is Truth.
One down three to go!
Jesus said, "I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life. No one gets to the Father apart from me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him. You've even seen him!" The Message, John 14:6-7
References:
C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (New York, Harper Collins, 1973).
I’ve begun my reading for my upcoming Fiction of C.S. Lewis class, and decided to start with one of the two books that I hadn’t read before which is The Great Divorce. It’s a short “theological fantasy” in which Lewis, as himself, boards a bus which takes its passengers to the outskirts of heaven.
He and his fellow passengers arrive in a forested meadow-land at the foot of a great mountain range where the promise of dawn continually teases. From there Lewis watches as the other travellers encounter friends and family from their past who have come to guide them up into the mountain and into the Dawn. It gives Lewis the opportunity to explore some really interesting scenarios: like a mother being upset that her son who died as a child was not sent to welcome her when her brother comes instead; or a man who is so intellectually astute that he is incapable of putting aside his curiosity in order to recognize God as Truth. A lot of it is about how we need to put away our preoccupation with Self and instead choose to seek after God. When we do this, we actually find ourselves, for He begins to show us how to recognize ourselves in the larger context of His love and forgiveness.
This was one of my favourite scenes. One of the Bright Ones offers one of the Ghosts of hell to take the journey toward Heaven:
“Will you come with me to the mountains?…”
… “I am perfectly ready to consider it. Of course I should require some assurances… I should want a guarantee that you are taking me to a place where I shall find a wider sphere of usefulness—and scope for the talents that God has given me—and an atmosphere of free inquiry—in short, all that one means by civilisation and—er—the spiritual life.”
“No,” said the other. “I can promise you none of these things. No sphere of usefulness: you are not needed there at al. No scope for your talents: only forgiveness for having perverted them. No atmosphere of inquiry, for I will bring you to a land not of questions but of answers, and you shall see the face of God.”
“Ah, but we must all interpret those beautiful words in our own way!…” (C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce, 39-40).
He really doesn’t get it. What I love about this is how Lewis reveals how self-absorbed we can be. The man still wants to be known, respected, and worth something—but he wants it based on what he thinks he can accomplish. It’s inherently self-pleasing. It’s not that the desire to be understood or useful is wrong. It’s how we seek to satisfy those longings that is often misguided: who do we look to tell us we’re useful, valuable, or correct? This man looks to his own accomplishments and his ability to contribute to society to find his worth. God doesn’t want that: He wants us to recognize our worth in Him. For He truly knows us: intimately and deeply; and in Him we find our worth, for in Him we are whole, healed, and restored. Loved.
I want to learn again how to be curious for finding the good answers, not as something that I use in order to try and make myself look good.
"Show me how you work, God; School me in your ways. Take me by the hand; lead me down the path of truth." Psalm 25:4-5a (The Message)
References:
C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (New York, Harper Collins, 1973).
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