The Collective
Reading this back, it's a bit scattered. But lets just go with it....
A friend and I are discussing the formation of a creative collective. I don't know if/how it would end up but I've been giving it some thought. It's caused me to really nail down what my vision is. Elements of it have changed from time to time but the core has always been there, if not always close enough to the surface for me to be able to articulate it.
Creative and artistic people are, in my guess, among the most hurt in the church. I don't think that the church knows how to deal with them that effectively. The creative person is highly quirky, I'll be the first to admit. And probably among the easiest offended also.
The prophetic person is also easily offended and does not easily assimilate into church life. Could it be that there are similarities? Are they one and the same type of person? Possibly. Probably.
The prophetic person hears from God and needs to articulate it to
someone. The creative person hears from God and needs to articulate it
somehow.
Art is prophetic. Prophecy is art. Or it can be at any rate. When the artist commits him/herself to the Work or the Creation, what springs forth is communication from the Spirit. The Work itself is alive and has an agenda. The Work itself can speak to the soul and spirit in a way never intended by the artist.
I think the church doesn't know what to do with the artistic or prophetic because neither are safe. They both can be a conduit for God and unfortunately, a conduit for pride. They both will have things to say that may not be popular, and both may get things wrong.
Every other gift or ministry is encouraged or practiced. Gift of helps? Serve here and there. Gift of mercy? Get plugged into our hospice ministry. Gift of teaching? How about leading a cell? Gift of prophecy? How about serving with our kids or ushering?
If prophetic are not always the most controlled and accurate, maybe it's because they don't get trained and allowed to practice. Also, we tend to treat prophets with Old Testament judgment (stoning for a missed word) and not New Testament grace. If a pastor misses it, a teacher errs, no problem. But if a prophet gets it wrong, the ushers are running to get the covenant stones in the lobby for a good OT stoning.
Granted, there needs to be accountability. But there also needs to be understanding and grace. And the word of the prophet should be a piece of a puzzle, never a whole picture. We also need to leave room for the change of heart. If God says "Repent or the city will burn" and the city never burns, could it be that the people repented? We are so quick to say "See the city never burned! False prophet! Crucify him!".
Paul says in 1 Corinthians "desire earnestly to prophecy." So then, should we not do that? Before that, just after the love chapter, just after "the greatest of these is love," he says "Pursue love, and desire spiritual gifts, but especially that you may prophesy." Since there are no chapters in the original text, it can be read as:
Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. Pursue love, and desire spiritual gifts, but especially that you may prophesy. For he who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to God, for no one understands him; however, in the spirit he speaks mysteries. But he who prophesies speaks edification and exhortation and comfort to men.
So what does this have to do with anything? Where does that bring us? To my vision I suppose. I want to engage culture. I want to see excellence in art, virtue in beauty, and strength in community. I want to see the creativity of the Creator displayed in creation. I want to see prayer effect our time. I want to see the prophetic gifts explored and functioning. I believe that the prophetic nature of art and the artistic nature of prophecy are very closely linked.
I value excellence, beauty, community, integrity, love, compassion, truth, mission, intercession, teaching, humility, joy, and influence. I want to impact, engage, and infiltrate. I want to see God reflected in a collage of color, shape, sound, and sense.
The creative collective, then, incorporates all these things. Perhaps
this is anoallasso.
To train the creative of God to listen to the voice that directs us in creation, speaks to us of beauty, commands us to speak, write, dance, and play.
To create an atmosphere where skills and talents can be sharpened without fear.
To promote excellence in every endeavor of God's people.
To infiltrate culture with the Gospel of Love through the arts.
To establish a house of prayer that receives the hurting and broken and sends the restored.
To finance the spread of the Gospel to the nations through entrepreneurial endeavors.
To recognize the Creator through creation and break the bonds of tradition that would define creative apart from the Creator and awaken the creativity of the Creator in each of His creations.
So that's it. That's a lot. But that's my vision. Rather, it's His vision that he has entrusted to me for the time being. Unless of course I've missed it once again. If that's the case, I pray I find a place like I just described that I might be a part.
What's the Cost of Love?
I've been a die hard Republican for almost as long as I can remember. And that works because I conveniently forget that time in grammar school that I somehow supported Dukakis by knocking down Bush Sr. signs.
I believe in trickle down economics. I believe that if you cut taxes people and companies spend more. I philosophically believe that cutting taxes and regulations for businesses means more janitors are hired at the bottom. I believe that the poor should work and not get a hand out. Hand up not hand out and all that jazz.
I believe in the sovereignty of America. I think the borders should be closed and illegals deported. I think, I think, I believe, I believe.
It's fairly easy to think and believe. It doesn't really require that I
do anything. I just have to sit in my cozy house, thinking and believing.
Thinking about the border issue, I wondered
why I want closed borders. Why, is it important. Of course the terrorism threat is a big deal, so that's one. What's two? Jesus, what's two? And I realize that Jesus really wouldn't care that my tax dollars are going to pay for an illegal immigrants education or healthcare. In fact, He may even think that works for Him. He told me to "give to anyone who asks." No qualifications there, just...give.
I suppose He might take umbrage with the illegal that is breaking the law but that is an issue between Him and them. My issue is one of taxes and borders, and ultimately, love.
The federal government must help people out because those who are supposed to aren't. That should be
our job, the church. WE are the ones commanded to give. WE are the ones commanded to love. WE are the ones commanded to lay down our lives.
I think that we even feel like we are obeying Jesus when we give above our tithes to a "good cause" at church. But the reality is, we are passing by the wounded traveler, perhaps to send help once we get to town, but passing by all the same. We've gotten so good at giving that which costs us little. We've gotten good at staying removed and clean.
But my salvation cost a lot. I had a debt I couldn't pay and was released from the slavery I deserved. My freedom cost a lot.
Shouldn't I give a lot?
Or, shouldn't I give what costs a lot?
Maybe it's money. Maybe it's time. Maybe it's pride, something I should have given away a long time ago but, like a bad gift, it keeps coming back. Maybe it's my Republicanism. Whatever it is, it should cost me.
What cost me a lot?
a.
The Vision
If you are under 40 and have not read Red Moon Rising by Peter Greig, do so. Not that the read is all that stellar, but the content is. The story of what God is doing with 24-7 pray is phenomenal and contagious. Tell me this doesnt stir somethign in the heart of the emerging church....
THE VISION
So this guy comes up to me and says "what's the vision? What's the big idea?" I open my mouth and words come out like this…
The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army. And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn't even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport.. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.
What is the vision ?
The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers choose to loose that they might one day win the great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"
And this is the sound of the underground.
The whisper of history in the making,
Foundations shaking,
Revolutionaries dreaming once again.
Mystery is scheming in whispers,
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground.
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs.
Who can stop them?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them ?
And the generation prays...
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking,
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give:
Breaking the rules.
Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide.
Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials.
The advertisers cannot mould them.
Hollywood cannot hold them.
Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.
Don't you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdo's! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.
How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God. My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D. And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from hero's of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.
Stirred? Lets get it done.
a.
Love is...
Love overcomes the dirt. I was about to say that love is dirty. That it sacrifices, it gets beaten, it is broken, it dies a thousand deaths. It is found in gutters and alleyways with bums and addicts.
But it's not dirty. It is clean. It sanitizes, washes away, covers, and paints over. It washes the inside regardless of the stench on the outside. It causes us to
get dirty, but makes us clean in the process. It is absolutely essential to life, more than air, more than drink. I can't grasp it, but I can touch it. It refuses to be placed in the box I made for it. It breaks it's bounds and grows swallowing me whole.
It waits when I want to go.
It is soft when I am hard.
It rejoices when others have what I want.
It is quiet when I want to shout.
It does not think about me but you.
It values what others have to say.
It yields.
Nothing gets on it's nerves.
It holds no grudges.
It hates injustice.
It basks in truth.
It stands tall when weighted down.
It looks foward to a bright future.
It takes beatings without a word.
It lives forever.
The Desperate Cry
I can't imagine anything that God responds to quicker than a desperate cry for help.
I have three of the most beautiful kids in the world. It's true, ask their mom. They look just like her. Both Zoe and Ezra have, at times, had night terrors. Ezra had them more often than Zoe did. Night terrors are awful, they are like a nightmare that you cannot wake up from. Our sleep will be broken by horrific screaming which will send one of both of us flying, wide awake down the hall to comfort the screaming child. With terrors, they aren't awake and it may take 20-30 minutes to get them awake and calmed down.
I think God, the Father, Abba, is like that. When his child cries out in desperation he comes running. And I don't think he comes running faster if you are a Christian, as opposed to non-Christians. We're are all His kids. In fact, it's entirely possible, that as a Christian, we possess all the necessary tools to fend off desperation. It's entirely possible that God responds quicker to the
lost soul.
I believe I've been called to intercession. That sounds like such a noble thought, a grand role, but today I was broken of that notion. I wake early (or try to, this week has been better than others) to read the Word and pray. Today, God started showing me pictures of people in desperation. Not a comfortable thing.
I saw a woman huddled in a corner after having been raped. I saw a girl looking in the mirror, hating herself for the abortion she was about to have. I saw a Goth staring at the self-inflicted wounds on his arm. I saw someone at a kitchen table, writing a suicide note. I saw the sorority girl in bed, covers pulled up over her head, weeping over feeling used. I saw prostitutes crying for a way out.
And as I starting asking God to meet them in their desperation, I broke.
I felt a modicum of His heartbreak over the lost, the desperate. I felt the Father weeping over his screaming and pained child, unable to wake them, unable to comfort them until he could wake them up. I felt a very very small fraction of His desire to lift those out of desperate circumstances. And it broke me.
I tend towards the sensitive as far as movies, sentiment, and worship are concerned. But this was more than sensitive. This was burdened. This was intercession. This was standing in the gap between God and desperate man. Connecting the two through prayer, feeling the pain in each. Melting down like a wire unable to conduct the surge of power coursing through it.
And through it all, I was ashamed. Society, and Robert Smith have told me that boys don't cry. And then I was ashamed to be ashamed. It's one thing to break over your shortcomings. Its entirely another to break over someone else's. I expect more breaking tho. And I welcome it.
Someone else I know did the same thing. And He suffered more than I ever will.
This anoallasso stuff is hard. What was I thinking?
a.
Jacob's Dream
I'm totally stuck on this piece. And it wasn't intended to "say" what it "says" to me. But that's good art.
This artist has lots of cool stuff. Please check him out and buy something. I'm going to buy this piece for my office/prayer room. His name is
Robert Scott. His website is
www.robertscottart.com.
Robert Scott has called this Jacob's Dream. To me, it sums up prayer. It sums up the Emerging Church. When I look at this, I see a 20-30 something average joe. He's thinking, reflecting, praying and being answered.
In Jacob's dream "he dreamed, and behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and its top reached to heaven; and there the angels of God were ascending and descending on it." Jesus also said "Most assuredly, I say to you, hereafter you shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man."
That's what this says to me. Angels ascend with the prayer and descend with the answer. And prayer isn't limited to church, the prayer closet, the dinner table. We are to pray continually. At work, at play, on walks, everywhere.
This piece shows me. Praying anywhere.
And angels are on the way with the response. The writer of Hebrews says it this way about angels...
Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for those who will inherit salvation?
I'm an idiot
For 30 years, 30 STINKING YEARS, I have been tying knots. WRONG. This image to the left, this is wrong. Note the bows lie more
along the show than
across the shoe?
I've been trying shoes for the better part of 30 years and i've been wrong the whole time. Now I am trying to (to quote a mentor of mine "unlearn what I have learned". Its not easy.
This image shows how the shoe SHOULD be tied. Many of you (both of you) may find yourself in the same dilemma. Thankfully, Ian will show us how it's done, along with some fancy new knots. And, and, and.... new ways to lace a shoe too.
You gotta love the internet. The great leveler. Sure, you can ridicule a guy who is this into knots, but once you realize how right he is and how wrong you are...all self righteousness fades. And where else can you practice a hobby as obscure as knot tying.
Gotta love it. Site is
here.
