Faith and Imagination

Have you ever thought about the role imagination plays in your faith?  Um...not me.  

I am girl with imagination.  Tons.   When my girls were babies I spontaneously made up dialogue for them and spoke both parts.  My husband contends that they were early talkers out of self-defense.  My kids have survived many a long bus or train ride by begging, "Tell us a story!" I am a long-term lover of novels, poetry and finding the pictures in clouds.  

But when I recently read Celebration of Discipline by Richard J. Foster, I stumbled with some suspicion over his emphasis on imagination as an important part of meditation, prayer and Bible study. "Isn't using our "imagination" the exact opposite of knowing the truth?  We don't need to "imagine" things about God," I mumbled to myself, "because he revealed himself to us in the person of Jesus Christ." 

A Servant in My House

"I am not a servant in this house!"  That is what my five-year old emphatically declared when I asked her to take out the trash.  She hates that job above all others.  Have you ever seen someone under 4 feet tall try to put on her shoes, hold the trash bag and never let go of her nose?  It's a sight.  

I took the trash from her hand, snagged a nearby stool with my foot and sat down with her on my lap.  Then we had a heart to heart about what it means to be a servant and how Jesus became a servant.  We recited "taking the form of a bond-servant and being found in appearance as a man."  I gave her a hug and reluctantly she picked up the plastic bag.

I walked away wondering if she understood the lesson.  Not the one about obedience; she got that!  I wonder if she got the one about pride and humility.  Maybe the better question is did I absorb the lesson?  And if I didn't how do I start? 

It seems lessons on "service" are everywhere.  I went to Amazon and typed in "servant leader" and I found pages full of business books teaching how to be great leaders by engaging in service.  I'm not criticizing; who wouldn't like to see the business world follow more of Jesus's principles? 

Yet a recent re-reading of Richard Foster's "Celebration of Discipline," brought me this painful line, "In service we must experience the many little deaths of going beyond ourselves.  Service banishes us to the mundane, the ordinary, the trivial."  Mundane service isn't the kind that people write books about.  It's the kind of service we find in a family. 

Families, especially ones with small children, run on service.  Dishes must be washed, floors swept, groceries bought.  Children must be bathed, hair must be brushed, and homework has to be checked.  

Every family does it-some better, some not so good. Yet I dare say not every person doing the service is being transformed by it into the likeness of their Savior (John 13:1-7, Philippians 2:1-13).  In fact, in many young mothers, the seeds of bitterness that will grow into 30 years worth of grumbling, anger, and discontent are sown in the laundry, the diapers and the dishes.  

I have been there.  

My five-year old is there, right now.  "I am not a servant in this house!" 

Yet there is no other situation in my life where I have a greater opportunity to serve in secret, in silence, and in humility.  Where else can I truly serve and be rewarded by my Father? Jesus harshly condemned religious activity like fasting and prayer to be seen of men.  Service that gains me an earthly reward does not gain me a heavenly one (Matthew 6).  Serving at work earns me a wage.  Serving as a volunteer earns me a pat on the back. Serving at church earns me the gratitude of my leaders and the encouragement of my friends.  But trust me, no one pays me to scrub the bathtub.  No one even knows I scrub the nasty thing.  They might notice if I stopped...I'm not sure.  

Sometimes I wish I could put my "real" life on hold.  I could go to a convent, a retreat center, or a cabin in the woods and try to grow as a Christian.  I could spend hours a day in Bible reading, stay up all night praying, and plan how I was going out into the world in humility like Mother Teresa to serve the down-trodden.  And yet the trouble is that very image is overlain not with piety but a desire to escape the actual service God is calling me to. 

Real humility, real growth is here, in the dishes and the dirty tub, in being a real servant in my house.

   

Helene

Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE(R), Copyright(c) 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

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Nothing to Offer

I sat in the meeting with many questions in my heart.  Our congregation is considering involvement in a prison ministry, and we were listening to the director of the ministry tell about the needs of the prisoners.  My questions were not about the ministry itself.  I knew that Jesus commands us to visit those in prison, and this particular organization had been helping people for a long time, baptizing and making disciples.  No, the questions were much more personal.

I know nothing about the world these women have lived in.  How can I help them?

I'm a "good girl" who has never had to struggle for anything in my life.  How can I relate to these women?

An Electronic Fast

Isn't it annoying when someone uses technology to tell you that you are using too much technology?  Like a Facebook post about how we all spend too much time on Facebook?  Yeah, it's obnoxious.  So I'm not gonna do that.  Not exactly.   What I am going to do is to tell you why I decided that I needed an electronic fast, and what taking one day off from electronics did for me.  Understand that I don't think everyone who has a Facebook account spends too much time on it, nor do I think everyone needs to take a day off technology. This is about confession, not judgment. 

Freedom in Christ

Bunch of bullies! That's what I was thinking as my friend told me about some recent conversations in her life. She fits the classic profile of a homeschooler, yet she and her husband carefully, prayerfully, for their own good reasons send their kids to public school. I'm a Christian, submissive wife and dedicated mom (at least I try), college-graduate and I work at least half-time.  That's a decision my husband and I made together. We feel strongly that my work is for the Kingdom and that it's good and right. I know that people disagree. I know that women especially are tempted to a subtle, divisive and smiling sort of comparison that leaves the victim wondering, "Did they mean to be unkind?" It happens; we've written before about it. (You're With Us, Imaginary Judges, Party Pooper).  

However, recently I have seen less and less grace. Homeschoolers who present a polished view of their home-life looking down their noses at their sisters helping kids with homework. Women, who have chosen to wear only skirts and dresses, casting the fish eye on their sister in her modest pants.   Women who after prayer and study go back to work condemned or condemning. Relaxed moms rolling their eyes at the conscientious ones who forbid TV, internet, and games to their tots. Women who are satisfied with their one or two children blasted on a blog by those who cheerfully accept all the children God will give to them. We won't even stray over to the graceless way we pursue political ends or make health and environmental decisions regarding our children.

Rocking the Christian Shirt

When I was a tween and young teenager, I was all about wearing Christian things.  I had a cross necklace, a Fear Not shirt, and a WWJD bracelet (I guess that dates me!).  As I got older, I started to become more uncomfortable wearing these symbols publicly.  I felt like people who saw me should see Christ in my actions, not in my clothes.  I also felt pretentious.  I didn't want to be viewed as the kind of Christian who would wear a Jesus shirt just to show off.  And of course, there was always the fear that I would act a fool while wearing a cross and give God a bad name. So I put my cross away.

The Presence of God

I am currently reading a Christian classic, The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence.  It's a fascinating glimpse into the life of a man whose career culminated in washing dishes and fixing sandals. He seemed remarkably satisfied. 

I started reading it because it is the foundational work in the spiritual discipline called "presence."  I first learned about it when I read Holy Parenting.  I saw references to it on a blog or two and then recently when I read Celebration of Discipline the book came up again.  So, I looked it up on ccel.org (an online mostly free library of Christian Classics) and started to read.