Refiner's Fire / Sancti-fire

April 9, 2016 firepit DD

This morning I listened to the Advent devotional hosted by the Sound District of the North Carolina Conference  and Jon the Methodist. At the end, there was a statement that caught my attention (paraphrased): 'the deepest thing within us is not sin, as some would have us believe, but rather the image of the Divine, the Creator. And that is the what the Refiner continues to work to reveal.'

Pause. The Refiner is working to reveal the image of the Divine that is deep within us. Soak that in.  Breathe it. 

The song "Refiner's Fire" was played.

I have been chewing on these thoughts as well as some others. It is an ongoing journey to be me, to become me, to live into who and whose I am. And, to do so with love and acceptance. The sign says, "love and acceptance practiced here". 

Yet, I tend to practice it better for others. However, if I cannot practice it for myself, then I cannot do so for others. I know that. I teach that. I don't always get it right. It is what it is. I recognize it and move forward with the recognition and knowledge. 

With all those thoughts swimming around in my mind, I read these precious words by Carol Collier:

"Death has come for someone who showed me great kindness when Suzanne died.

This woman knew a certain hell on earth and was an overcomer. Her hell did not strip her of her kind and generous heart. 

Again, I weep. 

I am no stranger to death. It has come into my house and stolen from me. 

It has taken the young, and the old, and the in-between people who have graced my life. 

Too many, too soon. 

My heart has been tendered by death and sorrow is a companion of mine. Death has not made me hard and cold. 

It is a warm fire that draws me close and makes me more open to its light.

How? How is it that the horror of death would be a light in my life?

I chose not to turn away or hide in a holy huddle. I chose not to bypass with a spirituality that does not make space for lament. 

Funerals are not happy-clappy parties. 

Death is a sancti-fire. It burns away self-centered ness, self-reliance, self-sufficiency, self-exaltation. 

It leaves you face down on the ground anguished in body and soul. 

I think about a Christianity that is rooted in the Sermon on the Mount. The blessed ones are those who mourn, who are poor, who are meek, who are hungry for things to be made right. 

Things to be made right. No more death. No more suffering. No more hell on earth. 

This is not a Christianity of wealth and power and might. You know, an Americanized Christianity. 

It is a Christianity that identifies with Jesus who came for the poor, the captives, the blind and the oppressed. 

Death is the most honest thing in life. 

And, as a Christian, it is the place where I come into the most intimate times with Christ Jesus. 

I am disrobed of all my pretense in the loving presence of my Savior. 

One day all will be made right. 

As we wait, may we be sanctified by our grief. May we be more meek and merciful. May we lay down our weapons and walk in the likeness of Christ."

Wow. Beautiful. Powerful. Words from the depths. 

The word "sancti-fire" caught my attention. "Death is a sancti-fire"."  Pause. No, hard stop. Breathe in the fullness of that statement. Death is a holy fire, a refiner's fire.

Carol continues: "It burns away self-centered ness, self-reliance, self-sufficiency, self-exaltation."

The sancti-fire of death burns away dross that keeps us from living our fullest, as we are created to be, in the image of the Creator. 

Oh, there are other things that burn this dross away, true. Death comes not only in physical loss of loved ones,  but in many forms. Yet this eloquently written piece captured my attention and connected me with the earlier message I had heard.

This season of Advent, this season of waiting and lament, is not to be rushed through or ignored. It offers many gifts, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

May it be so.

Rev. Deb

P.S. if you are needing or wanting space and time for reflection this Advent season, I encourage you to find a Longest Night/Blue Christmas service online or in person.  Many are held on December 21st, the longest night of the year.  I created a document for our 'come and go ' time at St. Elmo UMC that offers reflective readings. I will post that in a separate post. 

Do We Truly Welcome All to the Table?

A few weeks ago (8/8/17) I wrote a post about the Sidewalk Prophets song, "Come to the Table" because I had first heard it and it struck me as a powerful and inviting song. It also strikes me as a challenging one as I continue to hear it on the radio.

The song invites people to come to the table, all are welcome.  Who they are, how they are.  Welcome.  That's how God accepts them.  What if someone happens to hear that song, believes it, and goes to a church?  Will they find that same grace and acceptance?

What if they aren't dressed the same as those in the church?

What if they have a disability?

What if they are of a different income or perceived standard?

What if they are of a different race, color, or culture?

What if they struggle to speak "our" language?

What if they are different in any way to what we perceive is "the way"?

According to God, all are welcome.  God's grace extends to all people.  If God is willing to be open and loving, then why are we cutting people off from the table?  Why are we putting up walls, rules, boundaries where God did not and does not put them up?

My heart breaks when I am in a room full of Jesus-loving folks who have left the church because the church has betrayed them, hurt them, and/or is no longer a place where God came first and all were welcome at the table.  This gathered body of Jesus followers was and is church, yet with no community because community wasn't living as Jesus instructed.

I understand.

I have seen it recently.  And my heart breaks.

It doesn't matter what you wear.  Come to the table.

It doesn't matter who you are or what you've been through or what you're going through now.  Come to the table.

You are welcome to the table.  God's table.  You are loved.

I hope to live into loving God and loving others (as I love myself) as Jesus taught.

Jesus invited the disciples to breakfast on the beach, he fed folks on the hillside, and in the upper room.  Jesus was about relationship with others around the table.  These were teaching moments for the disciples and others.

As we look around our tables, who is missing? Why are they missing?  Have we forgotten to invite someone to the table?  Have we excluded someone who was previously at the table?  Have we not made room at the table?

May we open ourselves up truly to God as we make our way to the table, seeking forgiveness and grace for those we've ignored, excluded, and turned away.

Then, let's make sure our tables, our churches, our lives are open to God to work in us and through us for the glory of God and the good of the kingdom.

Blessings on your journey,

Debra


Lyrics to "Come to the Table" by Sidewalk Prophets:

We all start on the outside
The outside looking in
This is where grace begins
We were hungry, we were thirsty
With nothing left to give
Oh the shape that we were in
Just when all hope seemed lost
Love opened the door for us

He said come to the table
Come join the sinners who have been redeemed
Take your place beside the Savior
Sit down and be set free
Come to the table

Come meet this motley crew of misfits
These liars and these thiefs
There's no one unwelcome here
So that sin and shame that you brought with you
You can leave it at the door
Let mercy draw you near

Come to the table
Come join the sinners who have been redeemed
Take your place beside the Savior
Sit down and be set free
Come to the table
Come to the table

To the thief and to the doubter
To the hero and the coward
To the prisoner and the soldier
To the young and to the older
All who hunger, all who thirst
All the last and all the first
All the paupers and the princes
All who fail you've been forgiven
All who dream and all who suffer
All who loved and lost another
All the chained and all the free
All who follow, all who lead
Anyone who's been let down
All the lost you have been found
All who have been labeled right or wrong
To everyone who hears this song

Ooh
Come to the table
Come join the sinners you have been redeemed
Take your place beside the Savior
Sit down and be set free
Oooh
Sit down and be set free
Come to the table
Come to the table
Just sit down and rest a while
Just sit down and rest a while
Come to the table

Growing in silence... Sharing the sacred space

The other day a quote came across Facebook from Contemplative Life on silence.  It caught my attention.

"Perhaps the most important thing we bring to another person is the silence in us, not the sort of silence that is filled with unspoken criticism or hard withdrawal. The sort of silence that is a place of refuge, of rest, of acceptance of someone as they are. We are all hungry for this other silence. It is hard to find. In its presence we can remember something beyond the moment, a strength on which to build a life. Silence is a place of great power and healing."                        ~ Rachel Naomi Remen

 
Through the Academy, I grew in my experience of silence and even enjoyed walking in silence with friends.  At the last session we experienced a time of "active silence" where we gathered together in silence and did things that were meaningful to us.  We had been given instructions to return to our rooms and bring back pillows, blankets, and something for us to do... whether we wanted to read, write, knit, sew, etc.  When it was time for us to return to the conference room, they had transformed it.  There were places on the floor for sitting.  There were some chairs upside down providing back rests.  You could sit at a table, on the floor, make a pallet on the floor.  Whatever you wanted.  As we began to settle in and do our own things in silence, there was a remarkable sense of peace and community. 

I sat on the floor to write in my journal.  A few minutes later, you smelled the wonderful smell of popcorn and a few of the leaders were bringing around popcorn, cheese, grapes, etc.  Hospitality was thrown into this sacred space.  It was powerful to watch and listen as others were doing their thing--- drawing, lighting a candle for quiet time, reading, looking at pictures of beautiful birds on a computer, doing art work, taking a nap, etc.  As I observed and wrote in my journal, I found myself praying for folks and appreciating the presence of Jesus in the space.  

This was a beautiful experience of active silence for me, for us as community.  The speaker who introduced it to us, Kathryn Damiano, mentioned that gardening together and doing other activities together in silence are ways to live out this active silence.  I thought of mission trips and how there are often many times that we are working together in silence.  Last year cutting rebar ties and tying rebar and shoveling sand and dirt were some of my "jobs".  There would be some conversation, but there would also be silence time.  And, there was peace and beauty in that silence.  Christ was presence among us. 

Through the centering prayer group, I have experienced a beautiful time of silence with folks that I'm slowing getting to know.  They have been so gracious to accept me, a stranger, into their midst.  Though I don't get to go every week, it is a true blessing to go when I can.  Not only for the silence portion, but for the reading and sharing time as well. 

During the silence time with my spiritual director, my spirit calms.  Sometimes there are birds chirping outside the windows.  Sometimes I gaze at the pictures of Jesus and the candles.  Often, I simply sit in silence with my eyes closed, breathing deeply.  There are times when I know I could sit my entire time with my director in silence and then go and I will have met with Christ as much, if not more so, than when we break the silence and discuss things. 

I have learned from these experiences (and others) that there is peace, power, healing, and strength in silence. This space is a place of refuge, rest, and acceptance.  What a privilege to be able to share that sacred space with another.

Once again, I didn't know the person that was quoted above, so I looked her up.  She has a website and her biography on the website is found here.  She has developed curriculum that is used in medical schools, The Healer's Art. 

Here is a YouTube link to Rachel Naomi Remen discussing "Generous Listening".

I don't know enough about her or her practices to agree or disagree.  What I do know is that I can learn from her..... I can learn from anyone that shares Truth, because all Truth is God's Truth.  What I hear from her about silence resonates with what I have experienced and with what I know from Scripture about Jesus getting away for his times of silence and solitude in order to be strengthened for continued teaching and ministry.

Attributed to St. John of the Cross is this statement:  "Silence is God's first language."  It's a wonderful language to learn.

Wherever you are in your journey, wherever you are in experiencing silence on your journey, may you continue to grow in it.

~Debra