Hello Everyone!
You can now reach my blog at www.cathostant.com!
See you all there!
Peace
-Daniel
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Wrestling the Night Away
This week my church took a brief detour away from the Revised Common Lectionary and explored Genesis 32 where Jacob wrestled with God and became Israel. The sermon was given by the awesome Dave Meserve this week, in which he shared about some of his journey and how this story became a pivot point for him. I appreciated hearing his story as part of the sermon, it's partially why I love my community. All of us have moments which are transformative, and when those stories are shared, a sacred moment is created.
In the life of Jacob, we find a man who has made it through life with tricks and his wits who finds himself at the end of his own abilities, about to face his brother who threatened him with death on the last time they saw each other. He sends everything he has in front of him, holding himself back, brooding, waiting, wrestling with himself. And then suddenly he is attacked, by God nonetheless. Isn't that an interesting picture of God? God watched Jacob struggle, and then enters into his experience in a very visceral way. Jacob has no idea who he is facing. Maybe his brother sent an assassin, maybe somebody else he tricked along the way is after him, maybe it is his brother himself coming to fulfill his promise. So Jacob fights on until day breaks. Jacob fights so tenaciously that God has to touch his hip, but even this isn't enough. Jacob demands a blessing.
Perhaps this is the first time that Jacob has really fought for something. He didn't connive his way through this encounter, but rolled around in the dirt and sweat for hours. From this he becomes Israel: "for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed." This is what defines the Israelite people and by adoption those of us who follow Jesus, we wrestle with God. Just as with the early life of Jacob, God may give us many blessings that we don't have to work for, that doesn't require any interaction with Him. But eventually we find ourselves at a place where God isn't going to give us what we seek unless we get face to face and down in the dirt with Him. But even in that, it isn't about earning our blessings, our proving ourselves worthy. Instead, it's about the interaction, baring our soul, and being transformed.
When we meet God, really meet God, we come around changed. We begin as we are now, not much different from Jacob: prideful, self-sufficient, manipulative, but full of fear. At the end, when we are gripping God with everything we have, we come away with the blessing of a new self. We find ourselves ready to face our fears. After that night, Jacob/Israel rushed ahead of all those who he sent ahead of him, and met his brother face to face, come what may. He met God and found his new name. Whatever might happen to him from that day no longer has the power it once did. Even though things ended well, and he found reconciliation with his brother, he didn't come away completely fixed. Instead, he had a damaged hip that would serve as a reminder of that night for the rest of his life, and entered into the spiritual life of the Israelites in the Seder meal where a leg of lamb is a visual reminder of what happened.
What I take away from this concept is that while God is generous with his blessings, and we are under grace, that doesn't always mean it is completely free. But, it is definitely worth it, for we come away changed, more and more the image of who we were created to be and less and less of our shadow selves.
Peace.
In the life of Jacob, we find a man who has made it through life with tricks and his wits who finds himself at the end of his own abilities, about to face his brother who threatened him with death on the last time they saw each other. He sends everything he has in front of him, holding himself back, brooding, waiting, wrestling with himself. And then suddenly he is attacked, by God nonetheless. Isn't that an interesting picture of God? God watched Jacob struggle, and then enters into his experience in a very visceral way. Jacob has no idea who he is facing. Maybe his brother sent an assassin, maybe somebody else he tricked along the way is after him, maybe it is his brother himself coming to fulfill his promise. So Jacob fights on until day breaks. Jacob fights so tenaciously that God has to touch his hip, but even this isn't enough. Jacob demands a blessing.
Perhaps this is the first time that Jacob has really fought for something. He didn't connive his way through this encounter, but rolled around in the dirt and sweat for hours. From this he becomes Israel: "for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed." This is what defines the Israelite people and by adoption those of us who follow Jesus, we wrestle with God. Just as with the early life of Jacob, God may give us many blessings that we don't have to work for, that doesn't require any interaction with Him. But eventually we find ourselves at a place where God isn't going to give us what we seek unless we get face to face and down in the dirt with Him. But even in that, it isn't about earning our blessings, our proving ourselves worthy. Instead, it's about the interaction, baring our soul, and being transformed.
When we meet God, really meet God, we come around changed. We begin as we are now, not much different from Jacob: prideful, self-sufficient, manipulative, but full of fear. At the end, when we are gripping God with everything we have, we come away with the blessing of a new self. We find ourselves ready to face our fears. After that night, Jacob/Israel rushed ahead of all those who he sent ahead of him, and met his brother face to face, come what may. He met God and found his new name. Whatever might happen to him from that day no longer has the power it once did. Even though things ended well, and he found reconciliation with his brother, he didn't come away completely fixed. Instead, he had a damaged hip that would serve as a reminder of that night for the rest of his life, and entered into the spiritual life of the Israelites in the Seder meal where a leg of lamb is a visual reminder of what happened.
What I take away from this concept is that while God is generous with his blessings, and we are under grace, that doesn't always mean it is completely free. But, it is definitely worth it, for we come away changed, more and more the image of who we were created to be and less and less of our shadow selves.
Peace.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Some Thoughts on Mustard and Chaos
Hello everyone! This is a new exploration point for me to express my thoughts on life and spiritual formation, as a person who straddles the realms of the Catholic church and the Protestant church (and the Orthodox and Coptic and Celtic and so on). With that said, here we go!
The Gospel reading from the Revised Common Lectionary this past Sunday was Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52. The most well know part of this reading is no doubt about the tiny mustard seed which grows into a tree. As my pastor Jodi pointed out on Sunday, we tend to spiritualize and romanticize this passage into being about God taking something small and creating something amazing and beautiful out of it. Now, there isn't anything inherently wrong with that train of thought, but it is skipping something significant in the context of the reading.
See, for us, mustard (most likely black mustard, or brassica nigra) is a tasty addition to many dishes, but when it first popped up in the Middle East it was as a weed, not a desirable seasoning. Knowing this, the farmer in Matthew 13:31 who intentionally sows mustard into a field is not in fact being smart and faithful, but foolish. He is introducing a weed into ground that could otherwise be used to grow real food. If anyone reading this has planted mint and watched it take over the surrounding area, you might understand this concept better. So for Jesus to explain that a mustard plant can become a tree of life, it is order and beauty coming out of chaos. The same idea goes through the next part of the reading. A woman who introduces yeast into all her flour, a man who sells all he has for a treasure in a field, and a merchant who likewise sells everything for a pearl. These are not examples we should aspire to but acts of irrationality. But yet, the Kingdom of God bursts through them all.
I recently finished Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. It's a great memoir of a life of faith and struggle, and I find it to be a fitting companion to this weeks reading. Throughout her life, Lamott experienced a good deal of chaos. Some of it was admittedly self inflicted as a child of the 60's, but others things like death were forced upon her. She writes of the pain, frustration, embarrassment, anger, and the many other emotions that she felt when she was in the middle of these experiences, but in looking back she can point out where God was as well. God didn't show up because Lamott was doing the right things, nor did God show up because she she wasn't. Instead God showed up because that's what God does. And more often than not, it is right in the middle of our chaos.
I have also seen this happen in a very tangible way over the past week. There is a monastic community without walls called the Grey Robed Monks of St. Benedict which I have been exploring joining, and this past Tuesday the Prior of the Colorado community announced that he was leaving. Now, this was not a decision that came after a lengthy period of discussion with the community, but one which exploded like a bomb. As someone who is only exploring the community, when I first walked in to the meeting I thought that this was part of a process that I hadn't been part of. But it quickly became clear that this was not the case, and these brothers (and sister) in which he had made a solemn vow to be in community with had been left in the dark. The (former) Prior left some time to address concerns before he left, but he made it clear that this was a final decision. So here was a community now left reeling in shock, cutting as deep as a death but with the sting of a broken marriage.
In the discussion which followed after he left, a string of emails throughout the week, and another meeting tonight, I have seen God enter in. There was a chance that this could have broken this fledgling community since almost everyone credited the Prior with at least part of why they had joined, but instead I would say it has made the community stronger, drawing everyone together with many proclamations of "I'm in!" This does not lessen the confusion and sense of betrayal that many of the members are feeling. But there is beauty, hope, and a renewed focus. If the Prior had left any earlier, it may have dissolved the community, and any later and it may have cut even deeper. Instead, his influence in bringing the current members together can be acknowledged and remembered, but everyone is moving forward, seeking God and each other more strongly than before.
The truth is, chaos happens. Sometimes what was a weed becomes a tasty addition to my next sandwich. Sometimes our stupid decisions become the broken vessel which the light of God shines through. Nothing can really stop the Kingdom of God, no matter how impossible it may seem at the time. Now, if only I would start believing that more often, I might actually recognize God where before was something which seemed to be as far away from God as I could get.
Peace be with you all.
The Gospel reading from the Revised Common Lectionary this past Sunday was Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52. The most well know part of this reading is no doubt about the tiny mustard seed which grows into a tree. As my pastor Jodi pointed out on Sunday, we tend to spiritualize and romanticize this passage into being about God taking something small and creating something amazing and beautiful out of it. Now, there isn't anything inherently wrong with that train of thought, but it is skipping something significant in the context of the reading.
See, for us, mustard (most likely black mustard, or brassica nigra) is a tasty addition to many dishes, but when it first popped up in the Middle East it was as a weed, not a desirable seasoning. Knowing this, the farmer in Matthew 13:31 who intentionally sows mustard into a field is not in fact being smart and faithful, but foolish. He is introducing a weed into ground that could otherwise be used to grow real food. If anyone reading this has planted mint and watched it take over the surrounding area, you might understand this concept better. So for Jesus to explain that a mustard plant can become a tree of life, it is order and beauty coming out of chaos. The same idea goes through the next part of the reading. A woman who introduces yeast into all her flour, a man who sells all he has for a treasure in a field, and a merchant who likewise sells everything for a pearl. These are not examples we should aspire to but acts of irrationality. But yet, the Kingdom of God bursts through them all.
I recently finished Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. It's a great memoir of a life of faith and struggle, and I find it to be a fitting companion to this weeks reading. Throughout her life, Lamott experienced a good deal of chaos. Some of it was admittedly self inflicted as a child of the 60's, but others things like death were forced upon her. She writes of the pain, frustration, embarrassment, anger, and the many other emotions that she felt when she was in the middle of these experiences, but in looking back she can point out where God was as well. God didn't show up because Lamott was doing the right things, nor did God show up because she she wasn't. Instead God showed up because that's what God does. And more often than not, it is right in the middle of our chaos.
I have also seen this happen in a very tangible way over the past week. There is a monastic community without walls called the Grey Robed Monks of St. Benedict which I have been exploring joining, and this past Tuesday the Prior of the Colorado community announced that he was leaving. Now, this was not a decision that came after a lengthy period of discussion with the community, but one which exploded like a bomb. As someone who is only exploring the community, when I first walked in to the meeting I thought that this was part of a process that I hadn't been part of. But it quickly became clear that this was not the case, and these brothers (and sister) in which he had made a solemn vow to be in community with had been left in the dark. The (former) Prior left some time to address concerns before he left, but he made it clear that this was a final decision. So here was a community now left reeling in shock, cutting as deep as a death but with the sting of a broken marriage.
In the discussion which followed after he left, a string of emails throughout the week, and another meeting tonight, I have seen God enter in. There was a chance that this could have broken this fledgling community since almost everyone credited the Prior with at least part of why they had joined, but instead I would say it has made the community stronger, drawing everyone together with many proclamations of "I'm in!" This does not lessen the confusion and sense of betrayal that many of the members are feeling. But there is beauty, hope, and a renewed focus. If the Prior had left any earlier, it may have dissolved the community, and any later and it may have cut even deeper. Instead, his influence in bringing the current members together can be acknowledged and remembered, but everyone is moving forward, seeking God and each other more strongly than before.
The truth is, chaos happens. Sometimes what was a weed becomes a tasty addition to my next sandwich. Sometimes our stupid decisions become the broken vessel which the light of God shines through. Nothing can really stop the Kingdom of God, no matter how impossible it may seem at the time. Now, if only I would start believing that more often, I might actually recognize God where before was something which seemed to be as far away from God as I could get.
Peace be with you all.
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