Tall Monastic Guy

Soul Meets Body

I want to live where soul meets body

And let the sun wrap its arms around me

And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing 

And feel, feel what its like to be new

These lyrics from Death Cab for Cutie's, Soul Meets Body, express that primal desire for wholeness. We all crave the fullness of soul/body health and congruence.  

Observations from the gym...

As I work out each week at our neighborhood YMCA I’ve been curiously struck by the quick intimacy that takes place between the fitness client and their personal trainer. The small weight room echoes conversation usually reserved for the priest, psychologist, or maybe a spouse.

A lament Psalm for Denver's proposed 'urban camping ban'

The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing.

 

He allows me to lie in green pastures...

 

...but rather than rest and restoration a police officer disrupts my sleep saying, "You can't lie in these green pastures. They're not for you. Pack up your belongings and 'move along.' Or you will face a fine or imprisonment."

Thus, I am forcibly provoked to gather my things and move to a far more dangerous place - the valley of the shadow of death - where I will surely be threatened, harassed, fearful that I won't see the next magnificent mile hile dawn.

Who is watching out for me?

John Wesley on 'Love of the Other'

The following is from John Wesley, the most eloquent, prolific, and influential evangelist of 18th century England. The title of this sermon is "The Way to the Kingdom,"

Thou shalt love--- thou shalt embrace with the most tender goodwill, the most earnest and cordial affection, the most inflamed desires of preventing or removing all evil, and of procuring for him every possible good - thy neighbor - that is, not only thy friend, thy kinsman, or thy acquaintance; not only the virtuous, the friendly, him that loves thee, that prevents or returns thy kindness; but every child of man, every human creature, every soul which God hath made, not excepting him whom thou hast never seen in the flesh, whom thou knowest not, either by face or name; not excepting him whom thou knowest to be evil and unthankful, him that still despitefully uses and persecutes thee: Him thou shalt love as thyself, with the same invariable thirst after his happiness in every kind; the same unwearied care to screen him from whatever might grieve or hurt either his soul or body.

(Source: The Sword of the Lord by Andrew Himes)

A Blessing over Denver Neighborhoods

What is a blessing but a rain of grace falling generously into the lives of those in need;

And what neighborhood in our city is without need?

restoring hospitality...

...the ancient practice of hospitality has always been about welcoming the other, the stranger. It has always been about stopping in the road to tend to the suffering and broken, rather than hurrying past to be on time to bless those at a religious meeting. As to who those strangers might be today, she identifies them as ‘those who are disconnected from basic relationships that give persons a secure place in the world’, and continues, ‘the most vulnerable strangers are detached from family, community, church, work and polity’. 

From Kester Brewin's, Other: Loving Self, God, and Neighbor in a World of Fractures, (here he's drawing from Making Room by Christine Pohl) Above pic is Joannie who was happy to help me with my photo project as she was walking to the unemployment office

 

the hole in our discipleship

Jesus was killed because of the company he kept. Hanging out with lepers, prostitutes, tax collectors, Samaritans... "those people" created chaos and mess that the laws and religious norms prevented. 

If your church operates a version of discipleship that doesn’t begin with radical presence among the lonely, the outsider, the voiceless, forgotten… the poor, then it’s likely they’ve bought in to the institutionalized American-Dream knock off brand of the gospel-life revealed in Jesus. 

will work for...

This morning at the corner of 14th and Franklin was Dave... A unique image of God who like so many in Denver often remain overlooked, nameless, and in need of some dignity. 

This is the beginning of a photo and writing project that I hope will be more than just a photo/writing project. 

urban garden

After a week of eating killer salsa that Angie and I made from the stuff of our garden I felt compelled to share a post on how the backyard experiment has gone so far this summer. Here's just a few observations...

Centering

Throughout the summer I’ve kept a busy schedule but nearly every day around dawn and/or dusk I've either been watering, harvesting, or sometimes just looking at the progress of the plants. (I did get busted talking to my plants a few times this summer.)

Interesting the level peace and what feels like sacred distraction from the static of life that the garden has offered.  Gardening has been a quiet classroom of learning the BIG rhythms of planting, watering, growing, pruning, and harvesting. While it’s required a bit of investement on my part so much of the outcome has been out of my control. We had unusual dumpings of rain earlier this summer, which had me scooping water out of the box.

evolving from the Good Samaritan...

"We are called to play the Good Samaritan on life's roadside... but one day we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar. It comes to see that a system that produces beggars needs to be repaved. We are called to be the Good Samaritan, but after you lift so many people out of the ditch you start to ask, maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be repaved." 

~ Martin Luther King Jr., from "A Time to Break the Silence" (sermon, Riverside Church, New York, April 4, 1967)

the kingdom of heaven is "like"... tractor rides and haircuts

I can’t think of too many people in my life that I experienced love from more than Grandpa Simmons. But strangely I seldom if ever remember grandpa verbally telling me that he loved me. Instead, the common pattern nearly every time I walked in his home was a simple and strong encouragement to pass by the deep freeze and get myself an ice cream bar or any time I'd find him in the field on the tractor he would stop and make sure I had my time behind the wheel. These were a few among many ways a pre-adolescent Indiana kid received love.

And somehow I was able to clearly sense that love without him getting to the point of verbalizing those three words.