Harvesters at Evangel

Finally finished another video project.

Harvesters at Evangel from Kaitlyn Rockrohr on Vimeo.

No greater death than waiting

"There is no greater death than waiting, which is at the very heart of priestliness. Priests did not commence their priestly meeting until seven days of waiting were fulfilled. Seven is the number of completion, and the completion was the final death of their well-meaning intentions to do for God. Until that dies, there is not true priestly service, and if it is not priestly it is not apostolic. Jesus is the High Priest and Apostle of our confession. The first must precede the last. Impatience, self-will, religious ambition, the necessity to do and be seen doing, to be recognized and acknowledged is death to the purposes of God."

Apostolic Foundations, Arthur Katz

Releasing the Glory of God

from The Shape of Things to Come, Innovation and Mission for the 21st-Century Church by Michael Frost and Alan Hirsch


"One of the most wonderful metaphors in Jewish mysticism is the rabbinical teaching on the Shekinah ("God's glory"). In the typical playful way Jewish theology was presented, the Shekinah gains a personality and usually takes the form of a woman. She is metaphorically portrayed as God's wife, but she is in exile, i.e., God and his glory have been tragically separated through the fall. The separation is one of a cosmic crash in which God's glory was scattered into myriad sparks and caught up in all created matter. The holy sparks are now imprisoned in all things. Even the lowest of created things have the holy sparks in them.

The remarkable aspect of this Jewish teaching is the view that it is our holy action- that is, action filled with holy intent and directed toward God- that that actually free the holy sparks ensnared in all things allowing the exiled Shekinah to journey back to her Husband, namely, God. God and his glory are joined together again when people act in holiness. Says Martin Buber, 'The Shekinah is banished into concealment; it lies tied, at the bottom of every thing, and is redeemed in every thing by man, who, by his own vision or his deed liberates the thing's soul.' Isaac Bashevis Singer, the Nobel laureate who wrote marvelous novels exploring aspects of Jewish mysticism, said that "when man chooses virtue, he strengthens all the dimensions of life. Angels...look forward to a man doing a good deed, since this brings joy and strength to the entire world. A good deed helps God and the Divine Presence to unite. A sin, on the other hand, evokes all the gloom in the world.'

Now, without taking the teaching as literal truth (most of the rabbis don't!), this is a very helpful way of viewing the mission of God's people in the world. When we act redemptively and in holiness, we fan into flames the creational purpose that lies at the heart of all tings in God's world- we liberate God's glory that lies in it. And in doing so we bring God's glory. Again the post-Jesus Jewish mysticism perspective brings the focus of faithfulness to the whole of life in all its concreteness- the very element missing in so much Christendom proclamation and action. All things have elements of the sacred in them and should be respected- people, animals, the environment, even our technologies. The founder of Hassidism, Rabbi Israel Ball Shem Tov, said that 'one should even have mercy on his tools and all he possesses because one should have mercy on the holy sparks.'

There's a story about  a certain Rabbi Jacob, a deeply godly and zealous but somewhat ascetic man. One day he has a vision where he meets a woman who symbolizes the exiled glory of God, trying to make her way back to God. The woman is covered from head to ankles in a long black veil. Only her feet are bare and they are caked with dust and blood from long traveling on harsh roads in her exile.

The woman addresses the rabbi, saying, 'I am weary unto death, for people have hunted me down. I am sick unto death, for they have tormented me. I am ashamed, for they have denied me. You, [you humans] are the tyrants who keep me in exile. When you are hostile to one another, you hunt me down. When you plot evil against each other, you torment me. When you slander each other, you deny me. In doing these things you send your fellow humans into exile and so you send me into exile. And for you Rabbi Jacob, do you realize that while you intend to follow me with your religious rituals you in fact estrange yourself from me all the more? One cannot love me [The Shekinah] and abandon people.'

And she concludes, "Dream not that my forehead radiates heavenly beams. And has haloes all around it. My face is that of the created being.'

She then raises her veil from her face, and he recognizes the face as that of a neighbor."

Thoughts on Christian Movies

Here are some thoughts from Steve Taylor, the director of the soon premiering Blue Like Jazz movie on the "Christian movie" genre:


"But over the last five years or so, 'Christian Movie' has calcified in the public consciousness into a genre where:

• Sentimentality trumps substance
• Good intentions trump artistry
• All conflict must be tidily resolved
• “Safe for the whole family” is a de facto requirement

I’m not saying this critique is always fair or justified. In the case of the best known movies in this genre – Facing The Giants, Fireproof, etc., by the Kendricks Brothers – I’ve given them props in the past for being good visual storytellers and actually getting movies made with the resources at hand. But they’ve also contributed to (and possibly cemented) the aforementioned stereotypes." 


I recently saw their latest movie, Courageous, not having seen the some of their earlier movies. I have been told that they improved with each film but I found myself with the same sort of feelings about it as Taylor's. I am not necessarily supporting the BLJ film. I enjoyed the book but the trailers honestly don't look promising. 

I'm ready for some new good movies to be made-- good in every sense of the word. 

What do you think?

Here, He Comes.

"Wait on Me in silence; I will come to you in spring,"
the whisper echo resonates on the breeze's wing.

 Open me soundly; pass me not by.
I cannot resist You. I won't even try.

 Dark and lovely and slightly afraid,
cut off the dead shell with Your tongue as a blade.

 Hope has been planted
 You're coming, I see.

Yes; come have Your portion.
Come have all of me.

Bridegroom Song

I really enjoyed this guy's music, from SEU where I went to school in FL. I love this song.

Josh Garrels: The Sea In Between - Trailer from Mason Jar Music on Vimeo.

Not in So Many Words

Ecc. 5:1-7
Guard your steps as you go to the house of God and draw near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools ; for they do not know they are doing evil. Do not be hasty in word or impulsive in thought to bring up a matter in the presence of God. For God is in heaven and you are on the earth; therefore let your words be few. For the dream comes through much effort and the voice of a fool through many words. When you make a vow to God, do not be late in paying it; for He takes no delight in fools. Pay what you vow! It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay. Do not let your speech cause you to sin and do not say in the presence of the messenger of God that it was a mistake. Why should God be angry on account of your voice and destroy thework of your hands? For in many dreams and in many words there is emptiness. Rather, fear God.




I have come to the conclusion that we, as people, and I, myself, say too much. There are many words that are spoken, few of which are notable, meaningful or memorable. Words must be used for utility, communicating logistics for everyday life. These words can't be avoided; they simplify and improve efficiency. "Since you're going to the store, could you pick such-and-such up for me?" This just saved time and gas-- just one example.


Other than that, a lot of what we communicate is not necessary and takes too many words. We talk about other people and it typically digresses into the realm of negativity, the result of which is not life-giving to us or the people we're talking about. We say too much to each other, that which we should say to the Lord. Yet, I find that when I bring my comments to the Lord they are not necessarily things I would say to the Lord. 


I asked the Lord for a focus for the year-- an over-arching theme. He spoke "reverence." How, then, do I live a reverent life? To revere Him, I must remember to whom I am speaking when I am praying. The One God, Master of the Universe, creator and sustainer of all things, and the one rightly judges me and all people. Therefore, may I let my words be few.


I blogged on this verse before: "For in many dreams and many words there is emptiness. Rather, fear God." I don't want my words use to lead to emptiness; I don't want to give into the need to fill the silence for no good reason. I don't want to give into day dreaming about what my life could be, into fantasies of what I wish my life would be. Rather, may I fear God. Here. Now. May I be content in waiting on Him in the silence, focusing my attention on Him, giving Him reverence and letting my words be few. May I be content with His presence, here in the present that I may be present in this moment to the great I AM.


 I heard once that the English language has hundreds of thousands of words whereas Hebrew has tens of thousands, each one rich with layered meaning and significance. Every word which God has spoken in the Biblical text was supremely purposeful, each phrase could be studied for years without excavating a fraction of its depths. Each word was perfectly placed, a transcendent expression of divine intent. How often do I say things that I regret? Usually when I start talking without thinking. Just talking. "Hasty in word" and "impulsive in thought." And, as we learned in elementary school, the toothpaste is nearly impossible to put back inside the tube. May I become more like the Lord, with purposeful words and less verbal regret.


So at the risk of violating my new resolve to try to speak fewer words with more intention and reverence, may the Lord bless you with nearness and profundity this year, in waiting on Him in silence. He is always speaking.

Word Art

I made these for some family members for Christmas. I then transferred them to canvas using a brilliant and fascinating method taught to me by Cass VanB.

Romans 12:2 for Dad

Micah 6:8 for Mom

Ecclesiastes 3:11 for little baby D

For Real

"Nothing, there is nothing yet in truest form

We walk like ghosts upon the earth

The ground it groans"

"The Fall," by Gungor from Ghosts Upon the Earth

"I believe you're more real, than what my eyes can see, 

I believe the hills are full of a mighty angel army"

"God of the Angel Armies," Jonathan David Helser

"Cobb: She had locked something away, something deep inside her. The truth that she had once known, but... she chose to forget. Limbo became her reality. 
Ariadne: What happened when you woke up? 
Cobb: To wake up from that after, after years, after decades... after we'd become old souls thrown back into youth like that... I knew something was wrong with her. She just wouldn't admit it. Eventually, she told me the truth. She was possessed by an idea, this one, very simple idea, that changed everything. That our world wasn't real. That she needed to wake up to come back to reality, that, in order to get back home, we had to kill ourselves."

Inception (the film, 2010)

"For now we see obscurely in a mirror, but then it will be face to face. Now I know partly; then I will know fully, just as God has fully known me. 

I Corinthians 13:12

"For we are not struggling against human beings, but against the rulers, authorities and cosmic powers governing this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realm."

Ephesians 6:12

It's not a mistake that this generation is becoming more and more aware of the spirit realm, the reality of what is (most times) invisible. If I were to take a little more time, I could find more examples of songs, movie quotes and pop culture references within and without Judeo-Christian expression that nod to the realm that is "other than" what we see and touch. 


Just the other day a blonde athletic-looking man in an oversized business suit in his later 30's approached me at the coffee shop I work. Wondering why he was lingering by the counter, I asked if I could do anything for him. "I took some halucinogens the other night and I think they messed with my brain chemistry..." (didn't see that one coming). I continued to ask and probe and he continued to talk to me about he believes in the "physical and spiritual plane" and that they are connected, he believes in God, heaven and hell, even Yeshua. How does this all connect? He believes these things and yet is looking for a higher experience; clearly he wasn't satisfied with just a stockpile of knowledge. 


Another person at the mall, when asked about his religious background, said he believes in God, yet he had traveled the world and studied under some of the most renown Buddhist and Hindu thinkers and sages. He seemed to not have found "it" yet, but questioned the sincerity and motives of the Christian offer of the experience of God. 


We all are yearning for transcendent experience. Yet the source of that experience matters more than anything. We all know there is a reality of worlds and being that are other than the kingdom-phylum-class-order-family-genus species we experience each day with our five senses. God, reveal yourself to us, to me, to my people. Open up our senses beyond the five sight-smell-hearing-touch-taste, that we could sense You, know the truth, and the spiritual realities of good and evil that affect everything we do. Satisfy our hungry hearts by showing Yourself as the One who is more real than the ground I'm standing on, more real than the breath in my lungs.

"You're more real than the wind in my lungs

You're more real than the ground I'm standing on

You're thoughts define me, you're inside me

You're my reality

Abba,I belong to you"

"Abba," Jonathan David Helser

I love your house; it's so architectural.

Sometimes someone goes and writes something that I've been wanting to write, but way better than I ever could have. This is the case with this blog post by Michael Gungor. 

He writes a very accessible and well-constructed evaluation of the Christian music industry. In light of the Burst Into Song You Mtns. project (That will happen. One day. When we get to it, eventually.), some of his points were really well-spoken and a synthesis of a lot of what we've all observed.

For those of you without the time or energy to read the whole thing, here are notable quotes, in my opinion:

"I had a conversation with John Mark McMillan last night about something that I think is very interesting. By the way, I consider John Mark to be one of the ones I consider to be making a valiant effort in transcending some of these imposed limitations in this industry. But he mentioned to me how strange it is that people keep calling his new album “creative.” That word is actually one of the most used words when people describe our music as well. In fact, I bet some of you reading this have described as such. Here’s the weird thing about this…
Why do you find it necessary to say that?

Do you notice that nobody really uses that word about other types of music? I just was perusing some Itunes user reviews to see if this holds up. I checked John Mark and mine, and “creativity” is very often found. But it’s not often found in reviews of bands like Sigur Ros, Bon Iver, Radiohead, Sufjan Stevens or other artists who are certainly very “creative.”

Nobody goes to an art gallery and says, “boy, that painting is so creative.” Why? Because it’s art! Of course it’s creative! Why else would it be there? It’s very nature is creativity. Or like Lisa pointed out to me today, “that would be like saying, I love your house, it’s so architectural.”

But when someone in the Christian industry actually takes their art seriously, everybody is like “holy crap, listen to how creative it is!”

"Yes money matters. But so does beauty. Art actually makes a difference in the world. Have the courage to actually make decisions on values and not simply on past numbers and trends. And for crying out loud, if it really is good, the numbers will follow eventually anyway."

Can I get an amen?

The Lonely Life of an Apostle

Donald Miller is the only current pop Christian writer who I still like and would recommend. This excerpt from his book, Searching for God Knows What provides insight into the humanness of apostle Paul that I never would have seen (but man, I wish I did. Then I would be rich and famous and popular among the trendy Christian community. One day...).

If you don't have the time or energy to read the whole thing, read these:
"For the first couple of days in a new town, Paul probably felt completely alone. I see him like this when he talks about how he wants to go home and be in heaven but stays on earth so he can write letters and preach. I see him writing by candlelight at a stranger’s table when he talks about how he has this thorn in his flesh and can’t get over it and prayed about it three times, but God said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you.”
 ... the guy was passionate, like he actually believed this stuff was true, always going off about heaven and hell because he knew life has extremes. One minute he talked about how disgusting sin is and how it hurts God in His heart, and the next minute he said he would go to hell for people if he could, how he would die for them and go to hell if they would just trust Christ. It’s really hard to read that stuff because it gets you feeling guilty about not loving people very much, and then you feel very thankful for people like Paul because it means that if a person knows Christ, they become the sort of man who says difficult truths with his mouth and yet feels things with his heart that make him want to go around and die for people. It’s quite beautiful, really."

yet untitled

A little girl darkened the door of the old cathedral at dawn. That is to say, her shadow was cast across its towering doors as the morning beams of orange and warmed pink creeped up over the horizon and onto the stone sidewalk behind her.

Ding-dong

The resonant sound of the bells inside the echoing walls of the God-aimed monstrosity made her jump slightly as she pulled the ringer rope.

 A man in a grey robe opened the the door with an overdrawn creak.

"Welcome, little one; we've been expecting you."

She gazed up at him, eyes widely soaking in his wrinkled, over-sized countenance.

"Expecting me?" she inquired as she cocked her head at a jaunty, inquisitive angle, "I just came here to wonder if anyone would like to buy a flower." She gestured with her bent arm upon which dangled a wicker basket filled with cut chrysanthemums.

The clergyman chuckled to himself. "Yes! If flowers were prayers then you could call this place an arboretum! Then again, perhaps flowers are prayers..." his thoughts seemed to trail off as he squinted at the morning light that now bathed him. Seemingly regaining his state of mind he motioned her in with a wave. "Anyhow, come on inside, young one. "

The girl gave a tug to the bottom of her tightly buttoned yellow cardigan (quite matter-of-factly) and trotted lightly yet intentionally inside.

"If prayers were flowers," she began, dinner plate eyes scanning the cavernous enclosure, moving up one wall, across the domed ceiling and down the stained glass on the other side, "then I would make a much more notable profit with my business."

"Oh, yes?" he inquired.

"You see, my expenses to produce would be nothing, and I would never run out-- in and out of season!"

Again, he laughed to himself, though this time more loudly and lively. "I am happy to have found that sprouted youth who kneel before the Holy One are still being cultivated in this day and age."

"You should be," she stated emphatically. "My mother says that our people are going to hell in a hand basket. That's why I've decided to carry flowers in mine."

With a grin the man of the church plucked a dark red mum from said basket and brought it to his nose. "With some baskets of flowers and prayers, perhaps there is hope after all," he spoke dreamily, as he exhaled the fragrance of the mum with enjoyment.

...

 

Sweet!

Scientist Mohamed Babu from Mysore, India captured beautiful photos of these translucent ants eating a specially colored liquid sugar. Some of the ants would even move between the food resulting in new color combinations in their stomachs.


from visualamor


p.s. this is the sort of thing that makes me think i might switch from blogger to tumblr. it's a much more convenient sharing machine. 

I told you so.

(that I would get back to writing. it's not a story but it's something.)



Drink of My Tears
 
You squeeze out my tears into Your bottle again.
My spirit responds to You with watered eyes;
the arrows of your eyes pierce my thunderhead.
Tears like rain washing down a dirty wall
descend my face
like the way You wash over my tarnished heart.
Jesus, Jesus, drink of my tears.
I see You hanging on the wood;
You thirst.
Here, Jesus, drink;
drink of my tears.
They can't help but fall
when You move,
when You walk into the room.


The Island
 
I swam out to a lonely island
in a gray sea
under a thickly misted sky.
I felt cold;
there was no one with me.

The water, like abandoned dreams
and people who left us,
kept me cold.

My breaststrokes divided the water
as I propelled myself under it.
No longer did I walk the shores
of this sea of lonliness.
I set out to find You.

You set my feet upon a rock
wide enough for me to stand.
I was surrounded by water but
You gave me solid ground beneath my feet.

Patient patient patient One,
Why'd You leave me waiting here?

You said that You have not forgotten me;
emphatically so.

Unrocked, unwrecked, yet unwritten
alone here,
alone there, with you, somewhere.

Cyclone of light, I see it coming down.
Suck me up into higher places;
make me to transcend this place
for You are more real than here.
Take me up from this lonely island.

The reality of You whispers above the roar of the silence,
and if I can't see You, I look for You inside my heart.
For even when there is no ground or light,
I hold onto You-- I cling to You
like there's nothing else
for there. is. nothing. else.

Suspended in darkness
or raptured in light
I can't flee from You,
for when I run
You chase me.