Invitations

Identity

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 23:34:00 +0000

Identity

Irony is studying about one’s identity, the true self and the false self, only to learn that someone out there somewhere is somehow trying to pass themselves off right now as me. Some stranger got my credit card number, created a bogus card, and is using it all over the USA right this very minute. Now my card, rarely used as I find checks and cash a better budget and discipline guide, is right here in my hand, and I’m right here in Colorado.

Someone, however, is conniving enough to figure out my card number and my name and pretend to be me. And they’ve been having a heyday with my credit card from South Dakota to Vermont to Connecticut.

The good news is that my card company is smarter than the thief. The company noticed my normal spending habits, or lack thereof, and thus became suspicious and called me to put a stop to this nonsense. The fraud squad to the rescue!

But, all of this falls in the middle of my own study of identity: a journey of getting to know my Lord and myself better. So the irony is rather thick, don’t you think?

Christ in me, the Hope of Glory. That’s my identity at its deepest root. If you could peel me back, and see my heart within, you’d see a glow there…and the name tag would read: This is My beloved daughter, bought by My blood, delighted over as My saint. Yes, a work still in progress, but mystery upon mystery, called a citizen of heaven, called holy, called righteous. Not, of course, by Lane’s own doings and beings, but by My actions at Calvary. My life given for her ransom allows her to be ever conforming to My likeness. That’s what Jesus says about who I am. Wow! Wow! Wow! as my friend Cherie would say.

Like my credit card company, the Holy Trinity along with the Scriptures are far smarter and wiser than the thief who seeks to steal my identity, both the earthly thief with my credit card and the spiritual thief who aims to undo me from my true self.

For a goodly portion of my life, I’d have said that yes, I believed there was Satan, but, no, I didn’t really “get” that he was my archenemy, out to kill, steal and destroy the very life and identity of me, as John 10:10 reminds. Yet, over the years, I’ve changed. I have a real not-honest-to-goodness enemy: Satan. C. S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters is in that pile of oft re-read books. Satan really does want to steal my identity from me…. thus my current studies on the true self and the false self.

I’ve often heard, as I suppose you have, that the people who work in the world of counterfeit money study real money inside and out so that they know real money and can easily distinguish it from counterfeit money. I like that concept. So, I’m aiming to get to know who I am more…who I am as my true self before Jesus, who is the Truth Himself. Subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, my false self shows up, and I begin to think that is who I really am, or really should be, or will never be able to change from being. But that’s false.

I like M. Robert Mulholland’s book The Deeper Journey: The Spirituality of Discovering Your True Self. This excellent book, which is underlined in so many different colors symbolizing the different times I’ve read back through it, challenges me to stay true to my true self in God.

My false self is, in a nutshell, the striving one, who is caught up in the shoulds and oughts of my life, mottoes stamped on me thickly by a gazillion different influences from my past. Your false self and mine probably have some commonalities. We heard mottos during our childhood and our youth that we took for truths, and then became ensnared in the sticky web of thinking that is who we had to be, or all we could be. Satan jumped on the bandwagon and also spread other falsehoods around.

My false self, as I look back across my life, was influenced by any place or person that tried to make my value, purpose or identity more valuable than God Himself. For each of us, different things become our identity: activities, possessions, even wounds and crisis that become who we think we are. For instance, I grew up in the deep South where connections and possessions were displayed almost as boldly as the Golden Calf in the Old Testament. A false self, for example, can be believing that my connections or my possessions are my identity. We pick up these unsavory thoughts from our culture, our conversations, even from our churches. Unwittingly, we begin to believe the falsehoods we inhale through the osmosis of our life: who we know, where we live, what we do, and how much we have begin to constitute a plethora of falsities., which lead to a potential false self identity.

My true self, however, is the internal eternal part of me: the places within me where I am becoming whole and wholly and holy integrated into Christ Himself. My mind becoming His mind as I think; my heart becoming His heart as I act, my true self is all the movements of me from my false self to my true self that find me looking more and more each day like the spittin’ image of God my heavenly Father, Jesus my Savior, Lord, and Lover, and the ever present wise comforting Holy Spirit. I need the fraud squad of the Holy Trinity to open my eyes to my own false places.

But, to move from the false to the true, I am responsible for noticing where I am being counterfeit, where I am living a lie at a deep interior heart level. I think Mulholland says it better, “I realized that the false self I was stood in the way of becoming the true self for which I had been created.” He compares the false self to being like a mud pie with a thin layer of frosting yet tries to pass itself off as a lovely angel food cake. It doesn’t take much to notice the mud peeking through that façade of the false self.

In other words, like my credit card company, I need an awareness of what my unholy habits are so that I can grow suspicious of my false places and put an end to this nonsense. Oh, that it was as easy as what the credit card company does! They can shut down one account, and it no longer exists. And just as easily, they can open a new account with a fresh start and a fresh number attached.

For me, this requires a bit more involvement than that. I am to put off my old false identity and settle into my new true identity as Christ's own follower. I must, as my friend Valerie Hess recently reminded in a talk she gave, step into some powerful spiritual disciplines, which help me walk with holy habits daily. Valerie noted that spiritual disciplines are best engaged in when they are specific, measurable, and for which we are, in some form or fashion, held accountable. Dallas Willard or maybe it was Richard Foster, or probably it was both of them, somewhere speak of these spiritual disciplines as ways of putting myself in a place where God can do His transforming work in me.

To be my true self, choices are made. I lean into being all that God wants me to be: fully alive, fully my new true self. I imagine that means, like Eustace Scrubb in C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia who had to painfully shed layers of dragon skin that were not his true self, that I too will painfully turn from the old identities that are so easily assumed. Again, Robert Mulholland evokes change when he spurs me on to move from all that attaches me to that false self towards all that attaches me more deeply to God Himself. Mulholland says that we often seek to find our false identity “among the soils” of our woundedness, our resentment, our education, our profession, our possession and other such things. Instead, we are to step into intimacy in the holy soil of God as we offer our lives to Him. False self activities often “protect, defend, promote, indulge or enable” me to control my false life, Mulholland adds. So, those become good questions to ask myself. Where am I overly promoting myself? Where am I enabling my false identity to take control of my life? If I am mighty defensive about some area of my life, or a bit haughty or notice I am over-indulging in a particular area of my life, I might just need to call in the fraud squad and put a stop to this nonsense. I choose, then, to step into places where God Himself is in charge of me, and, via the spiritual disciplines, I become alert and attentive, noticing those places that I am living in counterfeit ways.

If wounds are what I hide behind, then the discipline of confession and the discipline of prayer help me gather my wounds and bring them to the altar where the Lord Himself begins the healing process. John Eldredge, in Waking the Dead, reminds me that there are four important streams to immerse oneself in for healing: walking with God, receiving God’s intimate counsel, deep restoration, and spiritual warfare. We stay in God’s Scriptures; we hear God’s voice, we are healed by God’s hand and the wisdom of His earthly spiritual directors, counselors and doctors, and we learn how to battle the enemy of our soul: Satan.

If I am most proud of my possessions and identify myself most readily there, perhaps the discipline of simplicity would be wise, for it invites me to bless others with the blessings I am holding onto a little too tightly. If I am hoarding these possessions, the discipline of worship reminds me that it all belongs to God, and I am to be a good and faithful steward. Thus, the spiritual disciplines act as a plumb line, aligning my heart to the heart of God.

I’m pondering places on which I’ve hung my false identity. It's not an easy task, for I too easily believe that my false identity is my true identity. So, in those very false places, I roust out and tame, like the wildness of the kudzu that sprawled out of control everywhere in the southern red hills of my childhood.

We all are called to become fully who God desires us to be. We are called to be the fraud squad of our own hearts and identify the true from the false. We are all in a battle against an enemy who wants us to think falsely: we are not so very beloved, we are not very important, we are, in his false opinion, worthy only to be a counterfeit.

Instead, I’m banking on the fact that I am truthfully graced with the identity of one who is beloved, who is called to be nothing less than my truest self, which only happens as I am engulfed in Truth Himself, Jesus.

The credit card ads are wrong, you know. It’s not what’s in your wallet that counts. It’s what’s in your true heart that matters: Christ in me, the Hope of Glory, through and through, true and true!

Bibliography:

Eldredge, John. Waking the Dead: The Glory of A Heart Fully Alive. Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003.

Hess, Valerie. Renovare Conversations. Denver, CO. January 8, 2011.

Lewis, C. S. The Screwtape Letters. Macmillan Publishing Company, 1959.

Mulholland, M. Robert, Jr. The Deeper Journey: The Spirituality of Discovering Your True Self. InterVarsity Press, 2006.

A Week to Get Ready

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 10:04:00 +0000

A Week to Get Ready

Next Sunday is New Year's, you know.

What? You think that’s not quite true, at least, not quite yet? You think I may have lost a marble or two, or three, or maybe flipped the calendar one too many months? Really though, what I’m saying is true. Next Sunday, November 28, starts off the church year. Next Sunday starts Advent.

We in the church are often a bit out of sync with the world and culture around us…or, at least that’s a good idea, according to the Triune God, according to St. Paul, and, according to saints past and present. So, here’s one of many chances to shine like stars in the darkness. Here’s a chance to start the holidays, and better than that, start our very hearts with a fresh look at what Christmas is truly to celebrate…a fresh look at the season that already has the newspapers shouting get ready for a spending spree on Black Friday, and, at least in my neck of the woods, the merchants are doing all they can to entice us to gear up for loosening our tight grip on our wallet ‘cause Christmas is coming to town.

While the rest of the world starts their new year as the chronological year flips dates, we in the church instead start a new year with a heart date. We start the church year by waiting. Waiting in Advent. Waiting for Christ’s birth. Waiting in hope for restoration to come.

Now, I don’t know about you, but a new year is usually a welcome sight. It feels fresh, full of possibility, a welcome relief from what has been to what can become.

For a good portion of my life, I’ve actually routinely celebrated three New Year’s celebrations: one in late November/early December, one in January and one in September. The November/December New Year focuses on my life with Christ, my life as part and parcel of the body of Christ as a member of the church universal. The New Year’s celebration in January revolves around counting the spins of the earth’s orbit around the sun from times past to times present, the chronology of earth and my years here on it. And, for most of my life, somewhere around September as summer starts to fade, the new year of the school calendar has been another celebration of sorts. As a kid, this was the time of freshly sharpened pencils, a fresh pair of back-and-white saddle shoes or penny loafers, and a fresh-faced teacher as I moved from grade to grade. Along the way, I too moved. I moved from being the student to being the teacher as well, so my vantage point changed as the year started. And then along came the blessing of children of my own, so the start of school involved new things for them and me: backpacks and back to school nights.

Three opportunities for celebrating a new year, a new start. Church calendar and my heart with Christ. Chronological calendar and the addition of a year in history for the earth and this body that occupies it. School calendar and my education, learned and offered.

A new year is coming! And, how are we to get ready for the year that’s about to begin? What difference does it make that we who follow Jesus start our year waiting, wondering, wishing? What difference does it make that we start our year at Advent, not on January 1 or when schools start up after summer’s play? What difference does my walking with Jesus make as we walk towards Christmas?

Here’s my proposal. Join me as I take this week and get ready. Let’s get ready for Advent. It’s the perfect time to do so. As we approach Thanksgiving on Thursday, let’s take the time to be grateful for the year that is coming to a close. We, as the liturgical church calendar reminds, are leaving the season of Ordinary Days to move into the new season, the New Year, which starts at Advent. So, much like we change our clothes as the seasons change, let’s ready our hearts for the year’s change.

St. Ignatius, as part of his Spiritual Exercises for Everyday Living, suggests that we examine our day and notice the movements of God in that 24-hour period. Noticing, he surmised, helped us be attentive to God’s transforming invitations, and our own response: to enter in or to ignore. So, in this week where you and I will celebrate Thanksgiving, let’s look back across the year. Notice, as I’m planning to do, what God has been up to for you specifically in the year past. Notice where you have entered into heart conversations with Him. Notice where you have moved from being all about you to being a little bit more all about Him. Notice, too, where you, like me, have simply not been willing to be that available, that vulnerable. I hope after you and I are done with the noticing, that we’ll both pause and thank God from whom all blessings flow for all that has been.

Instead of sharpening our pencils and buying a new pair of back-to-to school shoes or purchasing a new calendar and coming up with a new resolution, let’s sharpen, instead, our hearts and walk back across the year, noticing. I hope to see you here next Sunday as we go forward, celebrating a new year, the start at Advent, where we will be waiting once more and ever fresh, for the new invitations God is up to, for you, for me, in the offering of His best gift ever: Jesus.

What We Didn't Know

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 15:08:00 +0000

What We Didn’t Know

What we didn’t know

Was that our hearts

Would burn

Within us,

Just like their hearts

Burned when

The Fire

Spoke

On the road.

Emmaus-bound,

They thought,

But really,

Like us,

They were

Bound to

The Consuming One.

The Word,

Made Flesh, newly spoken,

Remade their

Leaden downcast

Faces,

Their slowness of

Heart,

Into

Glowing Ones who

Declared the Truth

Of The Risen Bread

And Flowing Wine

To doubting others,

To themselves,

Lead unto

Recognizing

Him

Revelation

Of the Resurrected Word.

What we didn’t know

Was that

Our hearts,

Too,

Would find,

in the burning of the dross

Hearing afresh

The Refreshing Word,

Right in the middle of

Our everydayness,

On the far side of

today’s ordinary desert,

A Burning Bush.

Bare-hearted among

Such

Holy Ground

Declarations:

I AM who I AM

What we didn’t know

Was that

Somehow,

The Word

Swiftly

Burns,

Even now all these years later,

With Emmaus unveiling.

All that is not

Holy

Is burned up.

The Fire

Invites us

To hearts aflame.

We become

Fire desirers.

O, Burning Wondrous One,

Kindle the awareness

Of Your presence,

In burning bush,

In Word along the road.

Oh, Holy Fire,

Be my desire.

Lane M. Arnold

On the eve of Lent 2010

Pondering how bright the Word glows

& if I’ll let Him consume all that is not of Him.

Turning aside, at bush or along some new Emmaus road, to notice

Holy Fire burning: Three-in-one: Father, Son, Spirit.

Impatience, Stalled Out

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 15:42:00 +0000

Impatience, Stalled Out

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handy-work.

Psalm 19

Snow

So soft

So slight

So slow

I must be quite

Intentional

To notice

Its stealth

Accumulation

Upon the fence-rail’s top.

Snow, even slower now

To accumulate,

Shows me again

That slow

doesn’t

mean

movement.

To notice the snow,

I must stay still

And fully focused on

One thing

To see

Change occur.

Ah, Lord,

At this slow waiting season of

My life,

Where movement

Seems infinitesimal,

Let me

Still my focus fully

To see You,

The One who changes all things

In the slow of waiting

While

You remain changeless.

Endless Easter

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 14:26:00 +0000

Like Chaos to Wonder
King Weaver takes my crimson
Tapestry: Crossthreads___snow.

Reflections on Isaiah 1:18
Winter shall never reign in my heart.

Saints Abound!

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 14:05:00 +0000

In the middle of this weekend that holds within it All Hallows’ Eve and All Saints’ Day, it is a good time to pause and reflect on those who have gone on before us, as well as to reflect on the here and now. In my mind’s eye, whenever I come to this season of the year, for just a moment, I think of the hall of fame, the cloud of witnesses, pausing to ponder what Hebrews 11 and 12 must be talking about, and what is referred to also in Revelations 7: 9-17.

As you recall, Hebrews 11 is the “Hall of Fame” of saints in the Scriptures, some quite famous, known for both their bold following after God and their gloriously huge failings in the midst of that struggle. There are the well-known ones like Noah and Abraham and Moses, and the ones who are unnamed and, often in our mind, not successful, for they were tortured, stoned, and persecuted. But in the end, all were commended for their faith.

Along with these in Scripture, there are others we recall down through the ages such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, David Livingstone, the Wesley brothers, John and Charles, Florence Nightingale, Dag Hammarskjold, C. S. Lewis, Mother Teresa, Amy Carmichael, and a myriad of others you can picture across the stage of history. Right this minute some other names come to mind, don’t they? Like me, you may be also thinking of someone who has died, someone you personally know, who followed long and joyously after Jesus, who is right now in His presence.

Indeed it is this gallery of saints, a spiritual pep rally of sorts, that is this “great cloud of witnesses” that Hebrews 12:1-2 refers to, who are cheering us on as we run the race towards and with Jesus that lies before us. And we are running, aren’t we? We are here and there, sometimes in circles, sometimes backwards, sometimes right up the steepest path available just to tumble straight down again in avalanche-style! Yet, even with all our antics, they, the saints of the past, the cloud of witnesses, are continually urging us ever upwards towards the Kingdom.

Most of the time, we tend to stop here and say “those” were the saints. But in 1 Corinthians 1: 2 it says it differently: “To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, saints by calling, with all who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” (NASB) Other verses such as Acts 9:13, Ephesians 1:1, and Philippians 1:1 also call SAINTS all those who claim Christ Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

So today, pause and ponder this: that you sit, walk, work, play, exercise, laugh among saints. Saint Janis, Saint Wally, Saint Loretta along with Saint Moses, Saint Paul, and Saint Peter, all who are Christ’s own through intimate relationship with Him as Lord and Savior. So as we approach this weekend of All Hallows’ Eve and All Saints’ Day, let us reflect not only on the saints that have gone before us who are cheering us on, but turn and look as you walk today and greet the faithful ones in Christ Jesus as saints, as Paul did in the start of his letter to the church at Ephesus and Philippi. Let’s sing and rejoice for we who have stood at the foot of the cross and at the empty tomb, we who have chosen Christ-following as our way of life, we indeed are the saints of God.

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Copyright © 2009 Lane M. Arnold. The content on these pages, both words and images, are the sole property of the author and may not be used or reproduced in any manner without consent. All Rights Reserved.

Book Review: Touching Wonder by John Blase

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 13:48:00 +0000

In wondrous words, John Blase returns us to the dusty days of another century...a time just as full of wondering and waiting as our dusty days here and now are. Walk back into a time and story so familiar that most of us are dulled to its freshness. Give yourself the gift of Advent...waiting again for the Holy One to appear. In this brief book, you will find volumes so deep that you will know, as a tear rolls down your cheek, that you have found a holy offering. Return to the truth of the Christ-birth. Return to the common people encountering an Uncommon God. Walk back to the past, to find, in the here and now, the birth that changed all of life for all who will come, and touch Wonder. John Blase is a master storyteller, wooing us to look afresh, listen with undulled ears, smell the humble places, taste the yearnings long forgotten, and, once more, touch wonder. Such a book brings us again face-to-face with Christ, with Christmas as it once was and can yet again be...God-with-us in the Baby joyously given as the best of gifts. Posted on Amazon.com by Lane M. Arnold

Moving as a Spiritual Discipline

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Mon, 04 May 2009 14:37:00 +0000

Movement. It’s part of life, isn’t it? We stretch our sleep-rested muscles into the wakening day. We dust the cobwebs of dreams from our foggy brains as we enter the freshness of dawn. We get up and get going. Change happens.

Here in Colorado, as the season changes slowly, we see a subtle rheostat movement, a gradual but steady turn from winter’s grey weariness to the green glow of spring.

We, too, are in a season of movement. Literally. Next week we move all our stuff…boxes, clothes, and furniture… into storage. Out of the house we’ve been renting and into a new setting. Here we go. Change. Transition. Movement. Some dear friends were looking for a house/dog sitter as they move about the country caring for ministry and family events. We were about to move anyway. So, here comes another move. From old to new!

Here, among piles of sorting, organizing, and tossing, I lean into Jesus and ask, “Lord, what do You have to say to me in the midst of this move? How can moving be a spiritual discipline to form me more into Your likeness?”

I’m struck by how He uses everything to draw me into this party of life with Him. Even here, among my scattered messes of piles to either toss, take to consignment, give to Goodwill, or pack…Jesus Christ invites me to all sorts of places within that need movement.

I open a drawer or a closet, or a box that was stuffed away in some dark corner. It seems that, like rabbits, my stuff has multiplied relentless when I wasn’t even looking. The invitation from Jesus in the midst of this move is to put off the old, put on the new.

All through Scripture, we see God calls forth His people into all sorts of motion. Name changes. Place changes. Life changes. Heart changes. Abram to Abraham. Joseph from the cozy place of favored son in his father’s house to the Pharaoh’s palace far away. Moses, out of Egypt into the wilderness. The Israelites, from Passover to Promised land, with a manna and quail menu in between. Joshua, leading the Israelites, from wilderness to wonder. Ruth, caring for Naomi. Over and over comes the invitation: leave the old to enter the new.

My mind runs through the many invitations of moving Jesus offered those He encountered.

He invites the paralytic, “Cheer up. Get up. Walk.” And, in that moment, I wonder what keeps me paralyzed.

He invites the hemorrhagic woman who longs to touch Jesus’ cloak, “Cheer up, your faith has made you well.” And, in that moment, I wonder what bleeds me dry.

He invites us who would follow Him, to toss aside old wineskins and put new wine into new wineskins. And, in that moment, I wonder why I hold onto the old so ferociously, rather than fearlessly entering the new.

He invites the rich man, “Go and sell and give away all that you have.” And, in that moment, I wonder what I hoard and greed for more than I long for Kingdom riches.

He invites the bent over woman, “You are set free.” And, in that moment, I wonder what keeps me burdened down rather than freed up.

Over and over, Jesus invites movement. Physical. Emotional. Intellectual. Cultural. Relational. Spiritual. And, in this moment, I wonder, will I accept His invitation to intimacy with Him? Will I move from the old to the new?

Silly me. I thought this move was about moving our stuff. But, instead, it seems to be an invitation to a moving party for my heart. Jesus wants me to move my heart towards Him. What invitation to movement is there in this day from Jesus as I move and shake the old off, and go towards the new? That’s a spiritual discipline worth exploring.

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Copyright © 2009 Lane M. Arnold. The content on these pages, both words and images, are the sole property of the author and may not be used or reproduced in any manner without consent. All Rights Reserved.

Remember!

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 15:25:00 +0000

In an Upper Room, Mystery encounters us: the mystery of our pursuing Lover, tenderly approaching us, His betraying Beloved…this is the overwhelming awe: the Mystery of Jesus.

Each of us who eats with Christ at some point betrays Him. Sometimes our betrayal is bold and brassy, like Judas. Or perhaps our betrayal is initially more subtle, like Peter slinking at the edges in hushed denials.

Every day, no, make that every moment, the choice beckons. Will I act on my own initiative, or will I act on the initiative of the total will of my Father? Do I even pause long enough to enter the conversation with Christ to ask His thoughts? What is Your will, Lord, for me, this moment, in this situation, this relationship, this point in time?

The choice remains. If I choose my will over His, well then, I sin. Not a very politically correct word in our day and age of tolerance as the current idol of all actions. But really and truly, sin is simply put: when I act apart from God. I go off willy-nilly, making an idol of myself, rather than staying stilled in worship alone of the One True God.

And yet, this is the crazy wild part....even as I repeatedly ready myself, whether thoughtlessly or intentionally, for some act that betrays this Wild Lover of my soul, this same Jesus comes washing my dusty feet, even dustier heart, even as my betraying heart prepares yet again to deny Him and do life my very own individual, right-this-minute, way. Who is this Jesus?

Join me today. Reflect on His body, His blood of the covenant, given with Jesus’ deep thankfulness, from the heart of the Father, with the invitation of the Holy Three-in-One...to me, to you.

Think of how we wine and dine, then scatter our depths so far from the heart of His love.

Ponder the Passover Lamb. Ponder the Upper room. What does He have to say? How is He displaying winsome love to us, His Beloved? How is He moving in my life this day? This season?

See His eyes meet yours and mine as He offers the bread, the cup. Wonder at this Jesus who washes straying feet with such tenderness. Bread. Bathing. Betrayal. Beauty.

Mystery. The pursuing Lover. The betraying Beloved.

Remember. Remember. Remember.

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Copyright © 2008 Lane M. Arnold. The content on these pages, both words and images, are the sole property of the author and may not be used or reproduced in any manner without consent. All Rights Reserved.

Ash Wednesday: Giving Up and Giving Forth

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 15:31:00 +0000

Lent is upon us. Ash Wednesday gives birth to a season punctuated both of life and death…. the life of Christ across 33 stunning earth years, His grace-offered death, and the wondrousness of His Resurrected life whereby we who meet Him at the cross in repentance can then meet Him at the empty tomb for a resurrected heart.

Here we are once more at this Lenten time. A season for contemplating again the life of Christ in these 40 days plus Sundays, symbolic of His 40 days in the desert. There in the desert we see Jesus, tempted by the same things that tempt us: ways to shortcut God in order to serve ourselves, our own little demanding god. Will we be swayed by the pull of power and pleasure for ourselves, making ourselves or another person or thing a little idol, a little god, or will we let God be God and follow Him alone?

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.

The Word made flesh shows us how to live the Word of God. In this Lent time, discover with me, afresh, who this Jesus is.

May this be a season where you join me as we reflect and repent and move forward across the desert days of Jesus with Him, assessing the temptations that snare readily. As you look into Jesus' heart and see, as I do, the reflection of my own heart, I wonder if you find that yours, like mine, is far less like His than I'd like to think?

May this be a season where you join me in rediscovering His face, His hands, His heart as He serves and invites others to the true Life, the true Light of the world. Come along with Him across the Gospel days of caring for the least of these, inviting the crummiest of these, celebrating the life to come with such as us. Go across the hillsides and participate in the ways He turns five fish and two loaves of doubt into faith with abundance overflowing. Inhale the scent of rest as He stays the night in prayer with His Father, and ours. Cower in the rocking boat, wondering at His sleeping presence. Investigate again the I AMs of Jesus. Weep at Lazarus dead in the tomb. Encounter the unbelief of doubt and the belief of risk-takers who seek His heart to become truly alive.

Move on to His Hosanna-haloed entry to Jerusalem, the sham of a trial with injustice abounding amid betrayal and denial, even by those He loved best. Sit stunned and silenced at His grace-overflowing death on the cross. Run lickety split on fire to the tomb empty, and once more or perhaps for the very first time, dance in wonder at His triumphal resurrection, by which we are not just resuscitated to the old life we've always breathed, but resurrected to a whole 'nother way of new life...that of Christ in us, the hope of glory.

The ashes today upon our brow remind us of our frailty here on earth. Like the palms from last year's Palm Sunday of which the ashes are made, this mark upon our forehead remind us that there is but One we are to sing Hosanna to, One alone to Whom we are to fall down and worship.

Just yesterday at lunch, we chatted with the waitress, discussing the 60 degree spring-like weather, uncharacteristic of Colorado in late February. Like the light slight breeze that jumped up suddenly, the conversation took a quick turn. Shrove Tuesday with its feast of pancakes, followed on its heels by Ash Wednesday where many choose to begin a small fast of something for the season of Lent. What are you giving up for Lent? became the topic of conversation.

Our giving up, our little surrender of something in this season of Lent, this small daily fast from something that perhaps holds us too fast, too tight, is but a small reminder of the much Jesus gave up so He could put off death and put on real life by His dying and rising ways.

As you enter Lent, choose to ponder the small fast you'll adopt as your giving-up discipline. What is it that keeps you a little too entranced? Food? Drink? Busyness? Unforgiveness? Television? Anger? Gossip? Acquisitions? Worry? Sloth? An unhealthy relationship? Your credit card? Your portfolio status or lack thereof? Narcissism? What holds you in a place that distracts you from where you might be better fastened to Christ rather than this thing or person? Maybe that’s the thing to consider doing without or doing differently during this Lenten season…so you can find yourself fastened ever more securely to Jesus.

Along with our simple giving-up discipline, this little fast for Lent, I'd encourage you to join me in a taking-on discipline. Think of taking on one small discipline. Try something you don’t normally do…or something you haven’t done in a long time.

If you’ve not done so, maybe you’d like to try solitude for five minutes at the start or stop of the day, where you sit alone with Jesus, looking with Him at what is to be or what was. On the other hand, maybe you like the constant drone of television or radio but, for Lent, instead you substitute that drone with silence during a certain hour of your day. Perhaps the discipline is to drive the slow roads to work, leaving a little earlier to allow yourself time and, while meandering the back ways, contemplate the beauty God’s dazzled on this grand old earth. Perhaps the discipline is to rise a little earlier and go for a morning walk as you notice what the birds and soon-to-appear spring flowers have to say of the Creator of the universe. Perhaps it is to write a note each week to someone you are grateful for, but haven’t let him or her know how they have blessed you. Perhaps it is something like carrying in your heart the same verse each day of this Lenten season...a verse that realigns you to Christ.

In the wonderful old 1928 Book of Common Prayer, these verses are to greet each day in Lent.

Rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God: for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness. Joel 2:13

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise. Psalm 51:17

I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called Thy son. Luke 15:18-19

Perhaps your taking-on discipline is choosing to serve at the soup kitchen each week. Or shoveling snow on the sidewalk of your neighbor who is perpetually grumpy and difficult. Maybe it is writing a check to the ministry that has ministered to you, or someone you love, even when the economy is tumultous and your wallet a bit slimmer than usual. Generosity loosens our heart in filling ways.

Ash Wednesday. Lent is upon us. Ash Wednesday gives birth to a season punctuated both of life and death. May you enter the Lenten season, giving up and giving forth, a little dying to self, a little giving away your life. In new ways, let us move towards Jesus Who gave His all that we might find our hearts no longer sin-shrouded and stone-faced and self-grasping, but fully alive, set free of grasping self first to grasp most of all Him who is worthy of all our heart, all of our life, all of our praise.

All Rights Reserved. 2009. Lane M. Arnold

Instead of a New Year’s resolution….Change lanes!

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 07:01:00 +0000

January, our word for the first month of the year, comes from the name of the mythical god Janus, who looked both into the past and into the future. What an appropriate naming! As the 2008 year ends, we pause, look back at who we have become, at what has happened in our hearts, in our world. We marvel at the marvelous moments and weep at the ones that wear at our soul. Then we look forward to 2009, at what is yet to be.

For some of us, we look ahead to more wonder, to others, more weeping. But wherever we stand, most of us resolve to do something a bit differently as the new year breaks forth. Like me, I imagine you have some goals, hopes, and dreams for the year ahead.

As is often the case, we start the new year with bold resolutions, aimed at helping us reach new goals. You know what I mean, don’t you? It’s the list of what I hope to be, do, experience, etc. Just as a new spice adds a quirky twist to a familiar recipe, so, too, we hope our resolutions will add newness to the familiar.

However, I’d like to propose that we not make resolutions this year. Instead, let’s change lanes to a new way of thinking! Consider, instead, making an Askesis, a rule for living. I don’t know about yours but my resolutions start out oh-so-lofty, but like leaky helium balloons, their height quickly plummets; momentum is lost.

A rule for living, an Askesis, looks broader than most January 1 resolutions. It takes in all of our heart, all of our life. A rule for living is a travel plan for our heart. Think of it as you would the journey process, like planning a trip.

First, you have in mind where you want to go. Then you begin to ponder the way to get there. And, of course, you have to decide what to take with you for the journey. Lastly, if you’re like me, you ask others who have been where you’re going.

The ancient church mothers and fathers realized that just desiring God wasn’t always enough, anymore than wishing you could go to the beach next summer is enough to get you there. Both require the discipline to plan to move towards that place. Thomas a Kempis reminds us that we each journey differently towards Christ…but all we, who follow hard after Jesus, long to arrive at the end of our days being more like Him. The journey into eternity begins now. So for each of us, we ponder where we want to go and how to get there.

What is this Askesis, you might ask? (Remember, I just graduated from seminary, so I’m getting my money’s worth from what I learned from my marvelous professors Demarest and Baker!) An Askesis is the plan for engaging in spiritual disciplines that lead us forward into a deeper walk with Christ. Just as our bodies need a variety of actions to stretch and grow our muscles, our souls need a variety of disciplines to stretch and grow our life with Christ.

The spiritual disciplines go beyond the realm of our vital daily quiet times, where we gather daily manna from the Word written and the Word Himself. They are the place we set ourselves into the path with the Holy Spirit, intending His work and ours to be an intimate dance towards holiness. The disciplines include spiritual places that create metamorphosis within us, so we become more and more like Jesus. Spiritual disciplines come in all shapes and sizes. Solitude. Silence. Scripture memory. Lectio divina. Fasting. Celebrating. Journaling. Dialoguing with the Holy Trinity. Worship. Study. Sabbath rest. Spiritual Direction. Examen. Service. Simplicity. Contemplation. A smorgasbord of types of prayer. Fellowship. Stewardship of time, body, resources, mind, soul, finances, relationships.

Dallas Willard challenges, in The Great Omission, “There is an obvious Great Disparity between, on the one hand, the hope for life expressed in Jesus—found real in the Bible and in many shining examples from among his followers—and, on the other hand, the actual day-to-day behavior, inner life and social presence of most of those who now profess adherence to him.” If we are to be disciples of Christ, Willard notes, we are to be a people “who don’t just profess certain views as their own but apply their growing understanding of life in the Kingdom of the Heavens to every aspect of their life on earth.”

That’s easier said than done, isn’t it? I start out boldly ready then find myself easily sidetracked or detoured. Perhaps an Askesis will keep my heart headed more heartily on the journey with Jesus.

In her book Sacred Rhythms: Arranging our Lives for Spiritual Transformation, Ruth Haley Barton encourages us to ask this question: “How do I want to live so I can be who I want to be?” Our answer, she says, becomes the structure for developing our rule of life that leads us in our journey of spiritual transformation,

So how does one begin to figure out one’s Askesis, a rule for living with and for Jesus? Like John the beloved disciple, lean into Jesus. Hear His heartbeat. Like Mary, sit unhurried at His feet. Dialogue with Him of His longings for you. Wrestle, Jacob-ish, with the places you want blessings at the cost of limping. Consider your own hopes, wobbles, gifts, and longings as one who wants to be David-like: a person after God’s own heart.

What do you think God’s longings for your heart this upcoming year are? What do you think is His ultimate desire for you? Let’s find a quiet place this day to stop amidst the newness of the year and hear His voice and His hopes for our hearts. Then, like a traveler planning an upcoming adventure, let’s begin to ponder daily, weekly, quarterly and yearly encounters with the Living God as we gather the disciplines into the lanes of change in our lives for 2009.

Barton, Ruth Haley. Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation. Downers Grove, IVP Books, 2006.

Willard, Dallas. The Great Omission. San Francisco, HarperSanFransisco, 2006.

Welcome to Lane Changes!

noreply@blogger.com (Lane Changes) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 18:07:00 +0000

Welcome to my blog! After years of sending out massive emails, my daughter finally convinced me that I should give blogging a whirl.

This will be an occasional dialogue to speak my heart as I long ever onward towards more of Jesus’ own heart. It will also be a place where the author-within-me tests the waters for future writings. As a spiritual director, this blog will offer some ponderings for the road of life as we travel with and towards Jesus.

Why the name? Well, first, my name is Lane. And, second, I want to be someone who is always growing and changing. So these musings will be along that theme: changing lanes on the way forward.

What happens when we change lanes while driving? Hopefully, we are attentive to the world we are traveling within. As I change lanes, I look ahead, and behind, and on either side. Then I double-check that blind spot that can so easily fool me. I am aware of myself, my community of fellow travelers, and my destination.

As I go through a lane change, these four things usually happen.
I am aware.
I assess.
I assert.
I accomplish.
That’s what I hope my life is like.

I am aware. Aware of who I am. Aware of strong places and raw ones. Aware of hopes and wobbles. Aware of Jesus. Of who He is. Of where He is. Of what He delights in for me and of me. Of what He desires for my heart.

I assess. What am I like in this setting or that? What are the whispers of joy I hear as I travel life’s heartscapes? What is Jesus pressing into me? What is He pressing out of me?

I assert. I move from my heart and head into the arena of living. I move from where I’ve been to where I’m heading. I interact with others.

I accomplish. The move from here to there occurs. I am changed in the process. Then the process begins again.

Lane changes.

Won’t you join me as we move forward…seeing Christ being ever formed more and more within as Galatians 4:19 challenges!