Yours ---we gladly attest---is the kingdom, the power,
and the glory.
Yours---we gladly assert---are the heavens and the earth.
It is you who made all that is,
sun, moon, stars,
rivers, forests, fish---
and us.
We say, "in your image."
Yours the kingdom and the power and the glory---and then us.
You do not will us to be powerless either,
so you endow us with power to work
to rule
to govern.
We reflect you in our working
in our ruling
in our governing.
Ours is the chance for justice and/or injustice
for mercy and/or rigor
for peace and/or war.
We grow accustomed to our power,
sometimes absolutizing,
and then are interrupted by the
doxology on which we have bet everything:
Yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory. And we are glad.
{Walter Brueggemann's prayer "On Creation" from Prayers for a Privileged People}
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Good News
The ubiquitous blogger J.R. Woodward is the architect for an intriguing blog experience over the 50 days of Easter. Each day, a different voice will join in. Here is J.R.'
s introduction:
In this blog series each of the contributors (authors, bloggers, professors and practitioners) will be summarizing their understanding of the Good News in 300 to 500 words. Each author is writing their entry as if they were invited by their city newspaper to write an article on the Good News...
Today was my day to join in. Take a read, join in on the conversation and enjoy some of the other pieces as well. It's a thoughtful conversation.
s introduction:In this blog series each of the contributors (authors, bloggers, professors and practitioners) will be summarizing their understanding of the Good News in 300 to 500 words. Each author is writing their entry as if they were invited by their city newspaper to write an article on the Good News...
Today was my day to join in. Take a read, join in on the conversation and enjoy some of the other pieces as well. It's a thoughtful conversation.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Make the World Beautiful: Josh Garrels
Art matters. Beauty matters. As image bearers of our Creator, we have been handed the mad joy of joining God's work in making the world beautiful. To that end, I'm going to offer posts here and there contributing to the conversation, whenever the moment seems right, whenever I have something to say or an artist to share.
To start us off:
words: I couldn't agree more with this guy
music: If you haven't heard Josh Garrels, now is the time. One (1) of my beefs with Christian music (as with much "Christian art" - and perhaps my reason for quotation marks will be a topic for another day) is that it often merely mimics. Little fresh energy. Almost nothing unexpected. Far too little that is truly creative. Not Josh Garrels, Honestly I don't even know if Garrels fits in the "Christian" genre, but his lyrics are richly theological, with piercing depth and nuanced texture. And his music - wow! his music. It's alive. It's haunting and vivid. It makes me want to listen better, to pay attention. When I hear a Garrels tune, I'm wondering where it will take me. And in the pop world of "heard 1, heard 1,000," that's saying something.
Garrels song "Zion and Babylon" is one of my favorites. But, there are a number. Listen here. And then buy an album.
p.s. Due to a recommendation from one Justin Scott, this Wendesday night @ 11, I'll be catching the Modern Skirts @ The Twisted Branch Tea Bazaar. We'll see what kind of creative goodness they have to offer.
To start us off:
words: I couldn't agree more with this guy
music: If you haven't heard Josh Garrels, now is the time. One (1) of my beefs with Christian music (as with much "Christian art" - and perhaps my reason for quotation marks will be a topic for another day) is that it often merely mimics. Little fresh energy. Almost nothing unexpected. Far too little that is truly creative. Not Josh Garrels, Honestly I don't even know if Garrels fits in the "Christian" genre, but his lyrics are richly theological, with piercing depth and nuanced texture. And his music - wow! his music. It's alive. It's haunting and vivid. It makes me want to listen better, to pay attention. When I hear a Garrels tune, I'm wondering where it will take me. And in the pop world of "heard 1, heard 1,000," that's saying something.
Garrels song "Zion and Babylon" is one of my favorites. But, there are a number. Listen here. And then buy an album.
p.s. Due to a recommendation from one Justin Scott, this Wendesday night @ 11, I'll be catching the Modern Skirts @ The Twisted Branch Tea Bazaar. We'll see what kind of creative goodness they have to offer.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The Echo Within: Robert Benson
A writer ought to offer something worth saying as well as something worth hearing. Some authors have a thing or two to tell me, but frankly, after a few pages, I don’t care to hear it. I’ve come to believe that truth without beauty … well, isn’t truth. I reveal my bias here, but writing is a sacred calling (just as is photography and carpentry and mothering and leading a parish); and I don’t understand “writers” who don’t seem to give a rat’s ass about the actual craft of writing. And it’s no better with religious books (maybe worse). Slapping the name Jesus on bad art still leaves bad art. My hunch is that Jesus doesn’t much appreciate the association.
Thank God, however, there are writers like Robert Benson.
If you’ve hung around Miska or me very long, you’ve probably heard Robert’s name tossed about. Miska has recommended (or given away) Benson’s Living Prayer more than a few times. And a few summers back, the small community that met in our home read A Good Life, Benson’s exploration into St. Benedict’s Rule.
Robert’s latest book, The Echo Within, offers his ruminations on embracing one’s calling and vocation. It’s a fabulous read. I loved the numerous (and conflicting) ways I encountered his wise mind
and artful pen. On one page, I’d find myself saying, ah, yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to say. And on the other pages, hmmm, I’ve never seen it that way before. One moment, I’d laugh out loud; other moments I’d sense a deep piercing where a word or image had landed well. I think collisions like these signal how we are on to something good.
Our exploration for what we are called to be and do, for what deep gift is uniquely ours to inhabit and then give away, is one of our most central, most human, questions. By virtue of both living so many years in a university context (among young friends beginning to chart their way) and by simply having the kinds of conversations pastors tend to have, I’ve long lost count of how many times I’ve heard this question: how do I know what I’m supposed to do with my life? We’re all asking this when we’re twenty-three. Many of us are still asking when we’re fifty-three.
I wish I’d had The Echo Within to recommend in all these conversations. Now I do. When I pass it along, however, I will also pass along a warning. Some will find Benson frustrating. When we ask these questions of our life’s direction, we often are looking for someone to tell us what to do – or at least to give us some fool-proof system that will tell us what to do. Exactly. Prescisely. Clearly. And quickly. Even if you didn’t know Benson and were unaware that such things will always be the opposite of what Benson provides, you’d know soon enough by skimming a few of his chapter titles: Listening (ch 1). Hearing (ch 3). Waiting (ch 6). Dreaming (ch 10). And there’s more where that came from. Lots more.
Benson reminds us that finding our vocation is about finding our truest selves. Or, to put it another way, it is about finding the “echo of the Voice that spoke us into being [which] is the sound of our own true voice.” To find ourselves, we must listen to what God has spoken uniquely to us, in us.
This is the heart of the matter. Finding our vocation, our call, our life’s work, is not first or foremost about what our business card says about us or how we find the way to pay our mortgage and put food on the table. Your life’s call is about embracing the beauty God had in mind when he took joy and delight in making you. And then, your taking joy and delight in singing the song you (and only you) were intended to sing.
“Your vocation” says Benson, “is not only about the work you do with your hands and your heart and your mind; it is about what shapes the work, the person you become in and around that work as well.”
Thank God, however, there are writers like Robert Benson.
If you’ve hung around Miska or me very long, you’ve probably heard Robert’s name tossed about. Miska has recommended (or given away) Benson’s Living Prayer more than a few times. And a few summers back, the small community that met in our home read A Good Life, Benson’s exploration into St. Benedict’s Rule.
Robert’s latest book, The Echo Within, offers his ruminations on embracing one’s calling and vocation. It’s a fabulous read. I loved the numerous (and conflicting) ways I encountered his wise mind
and artful pen. On one page, I’d find myself saying, ah, yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to say. And on the other pages, hmmm, I’ve never seen it that way before. One moment, I’d laugh out loud; other moments I’d sense a deep piercing where a word or image had landed well. I think collisions like these signal how we are on to something good.Our exploration for what we are called to be and do, for what deep gift is uniquely ours to inhabit and then give away, is one of our most central, most human, questions. By virtue of both living so many years in a university context (among young friends beginning to chart their way) and by simply having the kinds of conversations pastors tend to have, I’ve long lost count of how many times I’ve heard this question: how do I know what I’m supposed to do with my life? We’re all asking this when we’re twenty-three. Many of us are still asking when we’re fifty-three.
I wish I’d had The Echo Within to recommend in all these conversations. Now I do. When I pass it along, however, I will also pass along a warning. Some will find Benson frustrating. When we ask these questions of our life’s direction, we often are looking for someone to tell us what to do – or at least to give us some fool-proof system that will tell us what to do. Exactly. Prescisely. Clearly. And quickly. Even if you didn’t know Benson and were unaware that such things will always be the opposite of what Benson provides, you’d know soon enough by skimming a few of his chapter titles: Listening (ch 1). Hearing (ch 3). Waiting (ch 6). Dreaming (ch 10). And there’s more where that came from. Lots more.
Benson reminds us that finding our vocation is about finding our truest selves. Or, to put it another way, it is about finding the “echo of the Voice that spoke us into being [which] is the sound of our own true voice.” To find ourselves, we must listen to what God has spoken uniquely to us, in us.
This is the heart of the matter. Finding our vocation, our call, our life’s work, is not first or foremost about what our business card says about us or how we find the way to pay our mortgage and put food on the table. Your life’s call is about embracing the beauty God had in mind when he took joy and delight in making you. And then, your taking joy and delight in singing the song you (and only you) were intended to sing.
“Your vocation” says Benson, “is not only about the work you do with your hands and your heart and your mind; it is about what shapes the work, the person you become in and around that work as well.”
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Little Bo...
We've been talking at our house about how Easter is a season, not a day. Fifty days to revel in fresh hope, fresh life, new beginnings.
Yesterday, at the Cville Market, we happened upon a large bin of 1/2 price Easter candy, the crate overflowing with boxes of pink and yellow Peeps (one of Miska's and the boy's favorites).
Overcome by the joy and the possibility, Wyatt exclaimed: "Look! Peeps for 50 days!" That's the spirit.
Yesterday, at the Cville Market, we happened upon a large bin of 1/2 price Easter candy, the crate overflowing with boxes of pink and yellow Peeps (one of Miska's and the boy's favorites).
Overcome by the joy and the possibility, Wyatt exclaimed: "Look! Peeps for 50 days!" That's the spirit.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Maundy Thursday
We have turned toward Easter. We have been amid this week of holy things, whether we've noticed or not. (And it has been strange for me this Holy Week, good because we've done about the holiest thing I know - the Collier clan has been laughing and eating and reading and digging in the sand and soaking in the sun, together. Strange, however, because we have not been with our Christian community during this most sacred of times.) In this final stretch, the stretch between Maundy Thursday and Resurrection Sunday, we experience an intense collision.
Darkness breaks against Light.
Quiet shatters with Laughter.
Fasting goes drunk with Feasting.
Death destroyed by Life.
Everything that needs redeeming (we could have just said everything) erupts with Easter.
In these remaining hours until Easter bursts upon us, may you experience all the collisions and the paradoxes and the hope and humility of having Jesus take you by surprise.
Darkness breaks against Light.
Quiet shatters with Laughter.
Fasting goes drunk with Feasting.
Death destroyed by Life.
Everything that needs redeeming (we could have just said everything) erupts with Easter.
In these remaining hours until Easter bursts upon us, may you experience all the collisions and the paradoxes and the hope and humility of having Jesus take you by surprise.
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