This is a rather common sight around where I live. I admire the tenacity of our birds. We’ve had a rough winter, and these birds still hang on. In spite of incredible adversity they persevere. Resilience is a word that comes to mind. This is an acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas. The dimensions are 8″x10″ (20 cm x 26 cm), and the sides are almost 2″ (5cm) deep. Although I love working with paper, I’m trying to apply my same style and techniques to canvas, which is a particular challenge. This painting is for sale in my Etsy gallery. I’m entering this as my Illustration Friday submission.
Contributions to nakedpastor are greatly appreciated.
I had a strange moment late late last night. I was impressed to open the Book and read Ezekiel 21: 13:
Testing will surely come. Why is it that you have despised the rod?
I never perform this kind of juvenile excercise. And normally, you might think that this would strike fear in the one reading it. Not me. In fact, it had the opposite affect. My reaction was immediate: “You’re right! I’ll submit!” Ever since I can remember, I have been prophesied to, have had dreams, have been told my future, have received messages from all kinds of sources… and all of them concur: your vocation will be your cross. Adversity and sorrow will accompany you always, but you must submit to it. This is not to say that I won’t know joy or happiness, but that there will always be a deep current of testing coursing through my life.
When I was 17 years old I was working as a security guard. My boss, who was east Indian, told me he could read my palm. As a joke I gave him my hand. His eyes opened wide. He looked at me and said, “You are going to be a religious… a priest or something… and it will not be easy for you.” I pulled my hand back. He was way off! I was an artist and a musician, and that was my goal: to become just that! And I forgot about his nonsense for years. The next year I went to a college and got three years towards a music degree. Until I switched to theology in my fourth year. Ever since then, I’ve had complete strangers come up to me and tell me basically the same thing: the only crown you will wear is one made of thorns. You will never succeed, though you want to and though you try, you’re efforts will be constantly frustrated. Your call and vocation will always be cloaked. You’re going to be continually crucified. Hidden. Concealed. Underestimated. Trivialized. Dismissed. Countless words like this that have been given to me choke my journals. Then, most recently, two Sundays ago: the only robe of authority you will ever wear is like the hide of a moose! That one struck home in a way I can’t even explain.
So, when I was admonished last night… why do you despise the rod?… it brought me a strange sense of comfort and assurance. Funny. I was watching the movie Bottle Shock earlier in the evening. A vintner says don’t give the vines too much water or fertilizer. Keep it sparse because the best wine comes from vines that struggle against adversity. Vines that have it easy produce a lazy taste in a lousy wine. I struggle against my own adversity. I realize someone might say, “Quit your whining (excuse the pun). You’ve got it easy!” And in many ways I do. Some think that I fulfill my own prophecies. And I know some accuse me of holding my own pity-party. Yes, my adversity is intangible. I don’t even understand it. But my sorrow is real. That can’t be denied. Forgive me for this. It’s not really a pity-party. In fact, it’s something I feel I can boast about. It makes sense of my life. And to know this brings me peace. I just wanted to share with you what seems to be a persistent theme in my personal and vocational life. Who knows! I might be a very fine wine.
The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Mark Hemmings. I like how this fine wine, even wrought in adversity, is still concealed beneath the cloth.
Contributions to nakedpastor are greatly appreciated.
I’m warning you that if you want to have a relational community, a community of friends, a community where people are free to be authentic, honest and open, a community where there’s a collegial effort to share the gathering times, then you are in for chaos! It’s going to be messy. I promise!
It’s not going to be messy for a couple of reasons. One is that you will inevitably have a collection of diverse individuals that are full of surprises… some welcome, some not. But then again, it depends who you are. More about that in a sec. For instance, because my messages aren’t packaged presentations but more conversational in nature, sometimes someone will say something that will totally derail the discussion with some whacky idea. But then again, it depends who you are. But more about that in a sec. Or, if someone decides they’d like to try out the tambourine during the singing but don’t have a lick of rhythm, you have to deal with the sometimes humorous embellishments to the music. But then again, it depends who you are. But more about that in a sec. Or, sometimes during the singing, someone might feel he has something important to share with the community, so he comes up and dominates the stage for a while, sometimes killing the vibe that has been built over the last several minutes with just the right music. But then again, it depends who you are. But more about that in a sec.
But the other reason why it is going to be messy is that it depends on who you are. Some people don’t mind the intellectual derailments, preferring diversity of opinion or enjoying the fact that the authoritative voice (mine) can be challenged or complimented or changed. Some people don’t notice the off-beat tambourine because they don’t have rhythm themselves, or it’s their son, or they love the fact that the band, which used to be elitist, is just that unrestricted now. Some people appreciate the people who sometimes dominate the stage and share what’s on their hearts because they are more emotionally expressive than I am, or they actually do happen to be in touch with issues that are current in peoples’ lives and address these with edifying words. But not everybody appreciates these things all of the time. Including me!
You see, in all these cases (and these kinds of things happen all the time in our community) these things only wreck the mood if I have an agenda I am trying to fulfill, a goal I am trying to reach, a vision I am trying to materialize. The problem with my philosophy (and most people in our community agree with this): everybody can play, is (and this is where people have issues): anybody can play. I could sterilize Sunday morning to where the singers lead their part with explicit instructions to the community that they are not to interfere. Then I can get up and speak with the firm understanding that I alone am permitted to speak uninterrupted. But then, we wouldn’t be who we are, would we? But my, it would be cleaner!
What if the point of community was just to be community that is working towards being a functional, healthy and whole community, a small model of what unity in diversity looks like, a local expression of the Body with all its members? What if the whole point was to appreciate the diversity, encourage it, nurture it and practice it, in spite of our personal preferences, opinions and tastes? Although I’m convinced that this is true, I’m still not sure it is possible.
The fine art photo is the creation of my friend Howard Nowlan. It captures for me the interplay of smooth and rough.
Contributions to nakedpastor are greatly appreciated.
I met with a good friend today who is a member of our community. I was sharing with her what I was feeling these days with people who’ve left, who’ve decreased their level of support, and who’ve pulled back in some way or another. I told her I find it hard to be optimistic in the face of such loss. It doesn’t seem to matter how hard I try or work, it’s like I’m carrying a leaky pail.
She admitted to me that she would like to be a part of a success story just once. All the effort that goes into doing the things we do at the grassroots level is just that: grassroots. It’s meaningful, but small. There’s no wave of people coming. There’s no fanfare. No recognition. There’s no measurable gain that we can enjoy. Although everything we do we do with a clear conscience, certain that we are to be who we are and doing what we do, there’s never any marked victory. Sure, we sold land and paid off our debt. But this doesn’t measure the health or success of our community. In fact, it could very well affect it adversely. But I know what she means. I’ve often wondered why, in spite of our constant efforts to be and do good, there’s no profitable gain from it. I want to be a part of a success story too. I would love to be presently rewarded. But no. We aren’t and I’m not sure we ever will be.
(Pull the camera back for wide-angle shot): This very desire… to be a part of a success story… is the problem! It blinds us to the present. It pollutes our thoughts and actions with ambitious desires for a lofty goal, the fulfillment of our visions and dreams that have been fabricated in our discontented hearts. It also blinds us to the subtle rewards we do enjoy that can’t be calculated. Are we content to be and do good and leave the results up to the Other? We can plant. We can water. We can tend. But the increase is a gift.
The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Mark Hemmings, of Shinjuku Park, Tokyo, Japan. It captures a barren tree in winter. Who knows what spring will bring?
Contributions to nakedpastor are greatly appreciated.
It’s one thing to trust God. It’s another to trust how things are going to work out. I don’t equate the two. I would argue from all view points (theological, philosophical, biblical, etc.) and from experience that to trust one is to not trust the other. They are mutually exclusive.
Our community has recently paid off its mortgage. For the first time in years there’s no financial emergency. We have money. However, this does not necessarily mean that everything is going to be fine now. It doesn’t mean that God is now on our side and that we are necessarily going to succeed. Our community continues to shrink. Key supporters have left and others have stopped supporting. I have no explanation for it. I think we are doing everything we should do. I’m not sure we are doing everything we can do. We’re going to spend the month of March in reflection, gathering our thoughts and trying to discern what is going on with as much honesty as we can muster .
I’ve been having some disturbing dreams lately. I wake up crying sometimes. In my dreams I am asking the men who’ve left to come back. My friends. But they don’t answer. I beg them with tears. It is so tragic, and I wonder just how responsible I am for them leaving. On the one hand, it is an incredibly sad tale of rejection and grief. On the other hand it just seems pathetic of me to be begging. But I miss them all. I want them to come back. They know it. But they don’t return.
And more key people are getting picked off one by one. Some are telling me that they have to cut back in their giving or stop altogether. These are tough economic times and many people aren’t even able to pay their basic bills. Lisa and I included! I know intimately what they are going through! But aside from that: what does this all mean for our community? I cannot predict the future. I wish I could! That’s the concept behind the cartoon this morning. I don’t think it’s possible to know. Oh, I know some people might predict, prophesy and presume, but in my opinion it’s all guess work. Some would like me to believe that if I just trust then everything is going to work out in our favor. Don’t believe it. I trust him and submit to his hand, whatever it brings. And I have no idea what it’s bringing. I hope it is good. But there’s no guarantee. I’m stuck in Job’s proclamation: Though he slay me, yet will I trust him. I love our community. It is beautiful. But like Paul said: to some we are the fragrance of life. To others we are the fragrance of death. I realize how brutal this sounds, but although I hope in him, death always seems to be crouching at our door, and I can’t shake it.
The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Jorgen Klausen. It pictures the juxtaposition of beauty and the threat death.
Contributions to nakedpastor are greatly appreciated.
David Hayward is a pastor artistically stripping to the essential.
