david hayward. artist. cartoonist. teacher.

A friend and I went fishing today on the Hammond River, New Brunswick, Canada. Lisa got me a beautiful fly rod for Father’s Day and I finally got to use it. A beautiful piece! Except for a couple of times, we went our separate ways. It was a gorgeous day alone on the river. I always find these times very peaceful and meditative. I caught a couple small ones, like the little speckled trout pictured here in my hand. I released them.

What I was thinking about was the importance, no, the necessity, of thinking with courage. Each one of us must follow our own path. This is absolutely necessary. Especially when it comes to religion, we must allow ourselves to go deeper into what we are thinking and believing, and why. I would always encourage people to explore to the furthest frontier when it comes to their faith, religion, spirituality, philosophy. We must set the axe to the root. Here we must exercise a fierce independence.

How this plays out is a different matter. I found that I could continue my exploration for many many years in the church. However, it came to a point where I was obviously making some people very uncomfortable. Those in authority over me as well as some of those under my care could no longer tolerate the distance I’d gone. I would’ve remained longer, but it was no longer possible. I suspected it was no longer possible for my leaders, and it seemed no longer possible for those I cared for. So I removed myself. They are happier and better for it. So am I. And you know what? Life goes on. I am well.

Your internal independence will manifest itself in your external independence. If you’ve never read Life and Death in Shanghai by Nien Cheng, you must. One of the reviewers said it best:

A gripping, poignant chronicle of her courage, fortitude, and, above all, stubborn integrity during more than six years of cold, hunger, disease, terror, and humiliation.

We may find ourselves in different kinds of prisons. Perhaps not physical like Cheng’s, but intellectual, spiritual, emotional, etc. But whatever your prison is, if you cannot escape it, you can still, and you must, find your courage, fortitude and stubborn integrity within it.

Click on the image for a larger picture.

I have an image terms of use policy here.

Please join my newsletter by clicking here. And please invite your friends.

Have you heard the joke about the man who came to church for the first time? She was a beautiful church, and he became very attracted to her. She had everything he was looking for. They started seeing each other on a regular basis. After a while, he and the church decided to consummate their relationship. One night the man stripped down to his bare necessities and waited for the church to join him. He watched with excitement as she undressed in front of him. First, she took off her refined music and put it away in the drawer. Then, she took off its various small group meetings and put them away in the drawer too. Then, she took off her motivational messages and put them in the drawer. She even took off her mission statement and statement of faith and put them in the drawer. He looked in amazement as she continued. She took off her coffee and cookies and put them in the drawer. Then she took off her public image of success and influence and put that in the drawer. Finally, she took off her fine building and accessories and put them in the drawer. There she stood, naked before him, very plain and ordinary. He looked at her. He looked at the drawer. Then he said, “I don’t know whether to stay here or get in that drawer!”

When new people come to our community, I always feel it is like dating. Let’s admit it: they’re shopping. I have to acknowledge that we are on trial. It is so tempting to try to control our image. It is so tempting to worry about what if one of my people swears in frustration in homegroup… which sometimes happens. What if they discover that everybody in my homegroup is have been divorced except me? What if they find out many of us drink and some of us smoke? It is so tempting to put our best face forward. But I resist those temptations as much as possible. They might as well find out sooner than later what we are like. And I say “we”, because it is about the people. If they don’t like the music or the teaching style or whatever, there’s nothing that can be done about that. It’s finally about us. Will they quickly discover that this is about friendship, relationship and community rather than all the extras? Will they discover that they can love and be loved here before the details of how we do things is discerned or before they discover the diversity of belief and lifestyle that is represented here? Will they recognize, ultimately, that this is a place where they can be free to discover their own faith and explore how to live it uniquely before God in this world?

The fine art photograph is taken by my friend Mark Hemmings.

Check out my tees HERE. I’m growing my inventory all the time. And check out my art HERE.

I love diversity in community. The more diverse the better. In fact, I believe that if we were all open and honest, we would discover that underneath our superficially thin layer of homogeneity lies dormant a wide and wonderful diversity. It was like when I came to this community years ago. Nobody drank. That was understood. But when we were visiting people they would pull beer or wine hiding in their fridge’s crispers wrapped in paper bags.

So, my work isn’t to try to build a diverse community, but dealing with the one I already have, to encourage its diverse demonstration. That is, I try to stimulate an environment where people think independently, feel honestly, express uniquely, live authentically, and are loved unconditionally. I begin with myself.

It never ends. The pressure to divide into smaller sovereign clumps of people is insidiously persistent. The gravitational pull is always toward provincialism. The necessary work of encouraging differing people to dwell together in peace and with compassion is incessant. I love the work though. And I love to see it working, in spite of all the opposition. When Paul said that we are all members one of another, I don’t believe he was just talking narrowly about the church, but about all things… people and people, people and the earth, people and all creatures. A reconciliation of all things has been accomplished and there is a supreme unity that, in spite of our blindness and resistance, begs to be kept.

The fine art photograph is the creation of my friend Mark Hemmings, and is a photo of Shibuya Crossing in Tokyo, Japan. Imagine all the people living life in peace!

Check out my tees HERE and my art HERE.

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?