Adventure - an advent

I'm reading William Least Heat-Moon's book "Blue Highways: A journey into America". (It dawned on me the other night that it's a 1980s travel blog.) He said something that struck a cord when I read the words last night. In this entry he talked about traveling from New Tazewell to Morristown TN where he hit road construction through the Clinch Mountains. It must have been quite a harrowing trip.

The crossing became a grim misadventure, and I wasn't prepared for it. I tried to think of other things. Helen Keller, who never drove the Clinch Mountains, said life is a daring adventure or it is nothing. Adventure - an advent. But no coming without a going. Death and rebirth. Antithetical notions lying next to each other, as on a globe the three-hundred-sixtieth degree does to the first. Past and future. (p. 37)

I'm wondering if sometimes roads we travel are under construction and quite treacherous, but nonetheless it's the way out. Death and rebirth. Adventure - an advent. It speaks hope to me.

So I'm a 21st century dork

This morning I took the dogs for a walk while B was running errands. About 100 feet from the house, I noticed the car in the driveway. I whipped out my cell phone and called home. When B answered (he knew it was me since we each have a special ring tone on our phone for each other) and I said, "I'm a dork. Guess where I am?" We both laughed and I walked 30 paces home.

The Leper and Painful Questions - Part 2

I've mentioned in earlier posts that I struggle with church. Last week a friend and I talked about this and through our conversation I decided to check out a website of a local church she recommends. The concepts they espouse are in keeping with my desires and thoughts, but when I clicked through the pages fear gripped me and I thought, "I just can't do this. It's too much!!"

Parts of me want to be involved/committed, but another part has serious reservations and thus I back away as quickly as possible. I talked with my friend again this week and shared several very painful experiences with church. I could feel grief well up inside. The good news is I didn't stuff it back down, but nonetheless it reminds me that I still have lots of unresolved pain. As I recounted the experiences, I realized (maybe for the first time) just how many really yucky things I've seen in church. No wonder I'm scared. I agree with the sentiment that the church is a hospital for sinners and not a haven for saints, but it makes no sense why we (the church), given the huge vastness of the sovereign God we believe in, don't look and behave much different from other institutions.

As I've been wrestling (again) with all this, the story of Jesus' interaction and healing of the leper came to mind and spoke to a deep place. Matthew begins telling about the miracles of Jesus by saying, "Jesus came down" from the mountainside. This was just after he finished preaching his brilliant Sermon on the Mount. The verses that follow tell story after story of Jesus' interaction and healing of scores and scores of people. Bruner poignantly connects Jesus' example to that of the church. The church "must be both up on the mountain with the Lord receiving his Word (Matt 5-7) and down in the valley with human beings applying his Work (Matt 8-9)" (Bruner, Vol 1, p 373).

In many ways I feel like the Lord has permitted me to "stay up" on the mountain with Him during my time "away from church" (although I am connected with "the body" through good friends, family, and several women's groups.) This desire to attend church periodically comes and goes, but inevitably something I hear or something someone says scares me away. Truly the idea terrifies me. Truth be told, "I don't want to come down from the mountain into the messy world of broken people. I want to stay with Father in this safe and loving place. I don't want to go!

Yet I wonder if the Lord would say to me, "Just as I came down to heal people, so must you. I call you to minister to people. Not to be their answer, but to point them to Me...to Father. I do not call you to take on their burden, but to bring them to Me and to point them to Me."

One of my dangerous behaviors is co-dependency and my tendency "take on" the burdens of others. In my desire to help, somehow I find myself owning their problem. I'm much better about this than I used to be. I've learned how to set boundaries not to keep others out, but for my own sanity. I'm also recognizing and owning my limitations. I suspect the journey back to fellowship with a church will include a bit of these things. I'm going to let these words roll around a bit and see where we end up.


Part 1 - The Leper Encounters Jesus
Part 2 - Coming Down from the Mountain
Part 3 - Painful Questions

The Leper and Painful Questions - Part 1

I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm working my way through the book of Matthew using Frederick Dale Bruner's commentary. I'm not finished digesting the Sermon on the Mount (Chapters 5-7), but so far it's been illuminating and rewarding. It feels like a huge feast before my eyes. Things I recognize have taken on new colors, flavors and depth. Other things are totally new. B and I've been pleasantly surprised at some of the things Bruner illuminated. I'm still making sense of what I've learned, but my thinking / knowing has shifted slightly based on what I've read and I'm excited about that.

I decided to move on to the next few chapters for a while. Bruner calls the section after the Sermon on the Mount the "The Touching Messiah" (Chapters 8 and 9) since Matthew tells a number of stories about Jesus healing people and being present and involved with people.

When I read the beginning of Ch 8 the thought came to mind to read the stories in first person as if Jesus were retelling them to me. So here is how I heard the first story.

After teaching and speaking about Father's kingdom, I came down from the mountainside and a large crowd followed me. Can you believe it!! A man with leprosy came up to me, bowing down and worshiping me. He said, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." With great affection for this despairing man, I reached out my hand and I grabbed him and touched him. "Oh Yes! I am willing. Be clean!" Immediately, he was cleaned and cured of his leprosy. Then I said to him, "At this moment don't tell anyone. However, go and show yourself to the priest and offer the gift Moses commanded, so you will be a testimony to them." (Matthew 8:1-4)

The story came alive like never before. I continued reading chapters 8 and 9 in this same way and felt like I'd just experienced a story-time with none other than Jesus himself.


Part 1 - The Leper Encounters Jesus
Part 2 - Coming Down from the Mountain
Part 3 - Painful Questions