Fierce Landscapes, Part II: Mountain

In the midst of the pain and sense of being lost that we often feel in the desert, we may, like the Psalmist, look up to the hills, from whence our help is to come, from the maker of heaven and earth. (Psalm 121) “Give us your grace, O God!” we cry. “Hold us! Heal us! Make us whole.”

We long for illumination, knowledge, insight. We want to see the world, and our lives, from the perspective of God. Like Moses on Sinai, we long for revelation. “Show us your truth, O God.”

However, this is often a very slow process. The second stage of the mountaintop is the most like ordinary time, which is often monotonous and dull. It is often a time of waiting. It takes a long time to climb a mountain. And it may take a long time to receive revelation. Moses waited 40 days on St. Sinai to receive all God had to teach him. [See Lane, p. 91]

It is important here not to assume the desert is the place of emotions, and the mountaintop the place of knowledge. Revelation or knowledge is not just mental—it can be emotionally exhilarating. And often the pain of the desert that causes us to weep is our lack of knowledge, our just not knowing what to do next.

When our daughter was hospitalized for depression, we were told she needed to be on a different drug than she was on and that besides her individual therapy (which she was already on) we needed to begin family therapy. We were unhappy with the psychological nurse practitioner we were going to. How do we find another counselor and a psychiatrist right away? As I began calling psychiatrists who work with teenagers, the wait to see one was from four to six weeks. Any new drug takes about two weeks to begin working. The mental anguish of not knowing what to do next was excruciating, and only increased the emotional fear and worry.

All I could do was persist, putting Jessi’s name on any waiting list I could find. Thank God (and I mean that literally) our present doctor had a cancellation, and Jessi got in the next day. It took him 15 minutes to assess her various symptoms and determine that Prozac was clearly the best available drug for her. Within days she was much better, and the medicine created the platform from which both her individual therapy and our family therapy could be much more effective, and now Jessi is doing extremely well.

There are other times when revelation comes very quickly. Well, maybe not so quickly—it could just be that we had not been looking for anything different. Sometimes God whispers in our ears: “Have you ever stopped to think that there might be another way, a better way?” God nudges us toward a different understanding, a different behavior, and we have one of those “ah hah” experiences.

What have been some of your spiritual experiences of revelation and illumination? What do you do during those long periods of waiting that often occur as we await insight?

Next we will consider the cloud as a fierce landscape.

The Solace of Fierce Landscapes

(Right) Near Cortez, Colorado. Ute Mountains in background.




(Below) Navajo Nation, north of Rock Point, Arizona.


The beginning part of my sabbatical (and something that will carry all the way through and beyond) is built around provocative concepts in a book by Belden Lane entititled The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality. This book relates the emotional and intellectual journey of spirituality to three aspects of creation: desert, mountain, and cloud. He finds these three landscapes as seminal to the spiritual journey in the Bible, in the history of the church, and in his own experience.

He is building on the Christian apophatic tradition (primarily of the desert fathers and mothers), the via negativa, that “rejects all analogies of God as ultimately inadequate.” [p. 4] Paradoxically, the tradition views God as beyond any kind of language or place, and yet it uses the three spare and lean images above to suggest metaphorically the most profound and ultimately indescribable human experiences of both joy and pain. [Ibid.]

The overall spiritual movement Lane describes is from “abandonment of control and acceptance of God’s love in absolute, unmitigated grace.” [p. 6]
More specifically, it follows the classic pattern of Christian spirituality as movement through the three stages of purgation (to be made free of something unwanted), illumination, and union, corresponding in order to the three landscapes of desert, mountain, and cloud. I begin with the first part, purgation (desert).

Desert is the place of weeping. In its vastness and desolation, dangerous as it is to human life, we realize our lack of control. It is the place of sorrow and grief, as its barrenness reminds us of our losses and broken dreams. In the desert we are stripped naked of all our pretensions. We are vulnerable, bewildered, feeling abandoned. There is no protection from loneliness, isolation, depression, confusion, emptiness, meaninglessness, fear, and ultimately death. Grief overwhelms us and opens us to God, the only one who can quench our thirst.

Abraham and Sarah wandered through the desert, not knowing where they were to go, only trusting that God had a plan for them. The Hebrews wandered for forty years in the desert, at times trusting God to deliver them from their suffering, more often doubting and disbelieving. Jesus spent forty days in the desert, fighting all manner of human temptation in preparation for being a relentless and undeterred follower of “the way” of God.

I have had many desert experiences, but two stand out as the most profound and painful for me. One was the year after my first wife, Pauline, died. I felt like I had been dropped in the middle of a deserted planet, not knowing which way to turn, seeing no oasis to step toward. Like the Psalmist I called out over and over gain, “How long, O Lord! Now long!”

Another was a little over a year ago when my daughter became severely depressed. I could taste the fear, having no choice but to admit that I was powerless to protect her from death. I was forced to give up my desire to control events. I felt totally lost and bewildered, and had no choice but to do what is so painfully difficult for us humans to do: to trust her to God.

What have been your desert experiences? What have you learned from them?

In the next blog we will discuss the relationship of desert to mountain.

Travels with, Ah, Revbear

Now that you know my means of transportation, let me share where I have been thus far. And, following that, we will get to the theological reflections that are central to this sabbatical experience, and the photography that is key to those reflections.
Tuesday took me, with convertible top down, to Flagstaff where I had a delightful evening staying with David and Kacey Hahn, and their two adorable children, Derek and Gracie. David has been Lutheran Campus Pastor at NAU for five years, but now Kacey, who gets ordained June 3, is taking over that ministry, and David is beginning a new ministry in Flagstaff to the unchurched called “emergent ministry.” More on that later.
Wednesday, convertible top up because of the rain (and the cold the next two days), took me across the beautiful and haunting Navajo desert to Rock Point, where the ELCA supports NELM, Navajo Evangelical Lutheran Mission, which comprises a school, congregation, and other ministries. I had a great visit with the new Executive Director, Doloros Weis, and several of the other staff, including the couple pictured above, Aaron and Tara Chee. Check out http://www.nelm.org/.
Thursday took me to the Four Corners, and then continuing on Highway 160 through the Colorado towns of Cortez, Durango, through the spectacular Wolf Creek Pass (10,850 feet), settling in for the evening at a motel in Alamosa. Whereas my photography on Wednesday focused on the desert, Thursday it focused on mountains. Colorado is so beautiful, with snow covered mountains everywhere, rising above enchanting, swift-flowing streams. I have never traveled in this manner before: stopping whenever I saw something I wanted to photograph, trying to find scenes that would capture the theological reflections growing out of the reading I am already doing, which has to do with the spiritual significance of desert, mountain, and cloud.
Friday I headed north to the Great Sand Dunes National Park. My wife, Mary, and daughter, Jessi, have gone there twice on their camping trips north, and insisted I see it. Even though it was a considerable drive out of the way, I was not disappointed. I continued north to Denver, passing mountain after mountain over 14,000 feet in height. I stayed the evening with John and Ruth Pederson, seminary friends I had not seen in over twenty years. Our conversation included the changes in church and ministry we have experienced in the over 30 years since we were ordained.
Yesterday I drove through the plains and pasture land of Wyoming, and spent the night in a motel in Lusk, Wyoming with internet service so I could begin writing and posting blogs, begin writing the journal/book that will grow out of this sabbatical, and begin organizing my photography as it corresponds with the theological reflections that will follow in subsequent blogs.
Today I go through the Black Hills of South Dakota and then drive through the Badlands of North Dakota (Theodore Roosevelt National Park). I will stay in that area and then on Monday head to Fargo, North Dakota, where I will pick up my son, Brian, who just completed his sophomore year at Pacific Lutheran University, and we will head to our cabin near Menahga, Minnesota.
My next blog will contain theological reflections from my journey thus far.

Desert, Mountain, Cloud

For those of you wondering what "IN N OUT" is, it is the most popular hamburger shop in Phoenix. Here is the proof that I really did wander out of Phoenix in search of desert, mountain, and cloud (see next blog). I even searched out a theological mountain. This is part of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains (Blood of Christ) in southern Colorado, just east of the Great Sand Dunes. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Getting the Material Out of the Way

It’s time to begin my sabbatical blog. We’ll call it “Roamin’ Rev Ramblin’s.”

I began my sabbatical May 15. After a couple of quick trips, on May 22 I finally left Phoenix to begin the journey back to our cabin in Minnesota, which will be the base camp for my various projects and adventures until I return to Shepherd of the Valley the middle of August.

Now, in order to properly set the stage for upcoming blogs, and to make my adventures a bit more understandable, let’s get the “material” out of the way.

Preparing for the coming year, we needed one more car, now that both of our kids drive. I made the executive decision that it was finally time for me to get the car that “I” wanted. You would have to go back decades to find that situation.

I don’t follow cars much, but it occurred to me that I really like the newest Ford Mustangs. After a discussion with a couple of guys who do know cars, I realized that since 2005 Ford has been making the Mustang to look like it did from 1964-1968, the first years it was built. Well, that corresponds exactly with my high school years, and I guess unconsciously nostalgia overtook me.

And, of course, like nearly every Phoenician, I had to have a least one convertible. I quickly discovered on the Ford website that a new Mustang was beyond what I was willing to pay. Thanks to autotrader.com, and stops at three dealerships, I found a 2005 blue Ford Mustang Convertible in fantastic condition with only 4300 miles on it.

Next, at a PGA promotion at the Accenture Match Play Championshiop in Tucson, where I had gone in March to follow Tiger Woods, I received a satellite radio kit for $10 if I would sign up for 6 months of service. Installing it myself, much to the surprise of my wife, most of the time it is tuned to the 60’s and 70’s channel, and when I am missing my wife, to the channel called The Heart which presents a steady progression of love songs (Honey, are you following my blog?)

Two trips to Sanderson Ford gave me a license plate holder that says “1968,” the year of my high school graduation, and a cap that says, “Ford Mustang: The Legend Lives.”

Finally, there was the issue of a vanity plate, which I swore I would never have. Since I was a child my nickname has been Bear. Even in Mexico, I was known as Oso Grande (Big Bear.) A quick search of the Arizona government website revealed that our license plates can contain up to 7 letters, and, guess what: REVBEAR was not taken. Much to my delighted surprise, I received two license plates (for you now-Arizonans, we are not required to have a license plate on the front of our vehicles) and so now, for better or worse, people get to guess what I do for a living from both directions. And Mary, my wife, got to keep the golfing license plate on the front of her Ford Windstar.

I have already had several people ask me if I am going through a midlife crisis, to which I respond, “If only I was still at midlife.”

So, there you have it. Now you will be able to understand why, when I pulled up to my motel room in Lusk, Wyoming this afternoon, the guy next door said to me, “Does this mean I will have to listen to you preach in the morning?” Of course, I am hoping that if he is planning on a loud, drinking party tonight, that he might change his mind.

I know. I am a dreamer.

Discover Your Call

Our diaconal minister, Glenda, and I returned to Phoenix last night. We spent 3 days in Minnesota for a workshop at Luther Seminary. We went to "Discover Your Call: Uncovering Your Dependable Strengths" - a workshop put on by the Center for Lifelong Learning at the Seminary. Not only did we each discover our own dependable strengths, we went through the training to lead the workshop, so now we can use it here at SOV.
I'm excited about this process - it uses the telling of our own life stories to help us discover who we are uniquely created to be - and what we are uniquely called to do in God's world. This process goes way beyond the typical spiritual gifts inventories that involve checking off boxes, often in isolation from community. The results can be applied to every arena of life: home, work, school, congregation, community. The goal is to live not a "balanced life," but a "centered life." I look forward to putting our new knowledge to work. Thanks to the Shepherd's Foundation of SOV for funding our trip.

Glade Syttende Mai!

Today is Norwegian Constitution Day, and a major holiday in Norway and for many folks with Norwegian ancestry around the world. Since I am half Norwegian and have a BA in Scandinavian Area Studies from the University of Washington, it's a big day for me. At least it's a big day in my head, since I no longer live in Seattle (where there is a wonderful 17 May parade) or Minnesota, and I married a man with Swedish ancestry 3 months ago . I haven't heard of any big norsk parades here in the desert. If you know of any, please pass word on to me.

The "Lutheran Tidbit of the Day" on the sidebar below says that today, 90% of Norwegians are Lutheran. An interesting number, considering how few Norwegians are actually church-goers. When I attended the International Summer School at the University of Oslo in the summer of 1993 a few of my American classmates and I went to worship most Sundays. And the 5 or 6 of us easily doubled the number of worshipers on more than one occasion. More about "cultural religion" another time.

For now, just think "Ja, vi elsker dette landet, som det stiger frem..."

Repsonding to a Comment on "Big Table"

The following is a comment on the previous post. That's one of the great things about blogs - they can actually serve as a forum for conversation and exchange of ideas if we want them to...
Anonymous said...
If we're not in charge of the guest list, why do we as a congregation and denomination make a concerted effort to keep baptized Christians away from the table? If Communion is a gift, why do we make children 'earn' it by attending classes and acquiring a level of understanding not required of baptism?To be consistent with our theology, it seems we should commune everyone the day they are baptized, regardless of age. It is, after all, a sacrament requiring no mental assent, no 'right beliefs'. The standard eight year gap between baptism and first communion indicates either hypocrisy on our part or a weakness in our theology.
I assume since the author of the above post said "we as a congregation" that s/he is a member of Shepherd of the Valley. If that's true, then I hope that s/he will call me so we can talk some more about this. I'm not entirely sure what is meant by a "concerted effort" to keep baptized people away from the table, unless the reference is strictly in reference to age.
It's true, we do have the practice of a "minimum age" for receiving Holy Communion at SOV, as do many Lutheran and other congregations. And for the most part, it's an arbitrary age. Fifty years ago, many people received Communion for the first time upon their Confirmation. Twenty-some years ago I received Communion for the first time in the 4th grade. At SOV, it's 2nd graders.
So the question is, why the gap?
It's not necessary, or even helpful, theologically, for there to be a gap between Baptism and Communion. In fact, Orthodox Christians give newly baptized infants Communion immediately following their Baptism. I think that's a great idea, though most Lutherans I've told that over the years seem a little freaked out by it.
I think the "gap" comes from devoted Christians reading Scripture with a particular slant, wanting to take the Sacrament of Holy Communion seriously, wanting people to have some understanding of what it means, and thus wanting to offer some kind of education about it, so that it's not taken lightly. Understandable, but not always the most helpful.
So, here it is: personally, I would love to commune infants upon their baptism and then every toddler who sees that mommy is getting something to eat and puts a hand out to get some, too.
After all, it's an age-appropriate understanding for a very young child to want to participate just because the rest of his family is communing.
Perhaps it's time for us to examine the Communion practices of our congregation. I hope the author of the comment referred to above will be the first to volunteer for the study.

A Big Table

I just finished teaching the First Communion Class - one of my favorite things to do as a pastor. A group of mostly 2nd graders will be receiving Holy Communion for the first time during worship tomorrow morning. Their excitement is almost tangible, and it's not hard to tell the shy ones are a little nervous, too.

These children (and their parents) have heard how communion is a precious gift from God. Through the simplest meal - just bread and wine - we are reminded of our Lord's life and death on our behalf, and receive again and again God's grace and forgiveness as Jesus gives us himself in ways we can touch and taste. In this meal we are connected with the Hebrew slaves escaping from Egypt, the disciples celebrating the Passover with Jesus, the whole church throughout the centuries, and those we gather with around the table.

I'm so glad one of the lectionary texts for tomorrow is Acts 11:1-18 - Peter's explanation to the apostles of his vision of unclean foods and instruction to eat them, his visit to Cornelius, and his understanding that Jesus came even for the Gentiles. Refusing table fellowship with the "unclean outsiders" was no longer an option for Peter.

It's a BIG table we're called to. How hard it is to remember that we're not in charge of the guest list.

Confirmation Sunday

The fourth Sunday in April is "Confirmation Sunday" in the tradition of Shepherd of the Valley Lutheran. And it was a great day: eleven 9th graders stood in front of the congregation, publicly professed their faith, and answered this question:
Do you intend to continue in the covenant God made with you in Holy Baptism:
to live among God's faithful people,
to hear his Word and share in his supper,
to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed,
to serve all people, following the example of our Lord Jesus,
and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth?
And they answered: "I do, and I ask God to help and guide me." WOW!
This is quite a way of life. And I hope we've emphasized the gifts and responses in a way that will help these young people remember this question when they wonder what on earth they're here for. This question pretty much contains the job description for life as a Christian, and yet the "work" isn't really work - it's showing up to receive, to become who we are meant to be, to do what the Spirit works in us (sometimes even despite us!). Perhaps that's why we end our affirmative answer with "I ask God to help and guide me" - not a bad way to undertake anything in this life, really.
I always get excited on Confirmation Sunday. I hope the congregation is ready to embrace and encourage these new "adult members" - they've got ideas, energy, and gifts that God will put to great use.