I recently got out the old stack of memory verses I learned back in undergrad, when my faith was really taking off for the first time. The stack of 3x5 cards is pretty beaten up now, having traveled with me from Wheaton to California to Trinity's campus (and multiple moves on-campus) to Deerfield to my current apartment. At one point in my life I was pretty faithful to memorize Scripture on a regular basis, but I hadn't had my cards out for quite some time.

Tonight, I craved those familiar verses, so I went through a couple of them. Here's a passage that hit me as just the right description of where I'm at right now:

Psalm 66:16-20
Come and listen, all you who fear God; let me tell you what He has done for me. I cried out to Him with my mouth, His praise was on my tongue. If I had cherished sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened, but God has surely listened and heard my voice in prayer. Thanks be to God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld His love from me!

Trust and Discipleship

In looking through some church-related material that had magically piled up over the last few years, I ran across a photocopy out of a book by Brennan Manning called Ruthless Trust. My pastor probably handed out copies to our staff at one point and asked us to read it, but I had filed it away unread [sheepish grin], just one more casualty of the time-management wars.

But today, I had the time. So I read it. And now I want to buy the entire book and read it.

Here are some of my favorite quotes from the chapter:

...childlike surrender in trust is the defining spirit of authentic discipleship. And I would add that the supreme need in most of our lives is often the most overlooked--namely, the need for an uncompromising trust in the love of God. (4)

[Ethicist John Kavanaugh asks Mother Theresa to pray for him that he might have clarity.] She said firmly, "No, I will not do that." When he asked her why, she said, "Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of." When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, "I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God." (5)

We often presume that trust will dispel the confusion, illuminate the darkness, vanquish the uncertainty, and redeem the times. But the crowd of witnesses in Hebrews 11 testifies that this is not the case. Our trust does not bring final clarity on this earth. It does not still the chaos or dull the pain or provide a crutch. When all else is unclear, the heart of trust says, as Jesus did on the cross, "Into your hands I commit my spirit" (Luke 23:46). (6)

Though we often disregard our need for an unfaltering trust in the love of God, that need is the most urgent we have. It is the remedy for much of our sickness, melancholy, and self-hatred. The heart converted from mistrust to trust in the irreversible forgiveness of Jesus Christ is redeemed from the corrosive power of fear. (7)

Wallowing in shame, remorse, self-hatred, and guilt over real or imagined failings in our past [or present?] lives betrays a distrust in the love of God. (15)

I could go on. Granted, sometimes Manning is a bit saccharine for me, but this message of trust is exactly what I need to hear. And I suspect I'm not the only one...

Bearing Witness to the Good Shepherd

God is good. He is the Shepherd, the one who provides good things for His sheep over and above what they even imagine. Yes, we know this is true. But like any deep truth, it's easy to doubt God's goodness and care when He "feels" far away, or when our circumstances leave us desperate and needy and it seems like no one can help us. So often in this past year when I've been in that place of desperate need, I've known that God IS able to help, rescue, and provide, but it has seemed like He just... doesn't. Like He was just watching me thrash but not intervening.

In those moments, sometimes I would get angry at Him. "Why aren't you helping me?! I know I'm not able to help myself, but it feels like I have to just keep trying to pull myself up out of this pit, because You obviously are just going to keep watching me, motionless, and I can't just lay here waiting for You to act." In those moments, the tension between what I knew in my head about God (His goodness, His power, His provision) seemed to directly conflict with my experience of helplessness, of powerlessness, of desperation, of unmet need.

But my frustration and doubt dissolved into wonder and gratitude when God answered my deepest prayers more abundantly than I even dared to believe was possible. Specifically, I had been praying to be able to stay in ministry at my church. Now that I've graduated from seminary, student loan payments loom in the near future, and a part-time music minister can't quite survive on the North Shore without finding another job. I longed to be full-time at my church, but it seemed impossible - these are difficult times for everyone, and we are a small congregation.

But God was working behind the scenes, even when it seemed like He was motionless. A couple good friends stepped in to be advocates for me in a time when I could not be an advocate for myself. Thanks to them, the leaders of my church found the money and the need for a new position, a position basically tailor-made for me. A full-time position that allows me to stay where I feel called and actually DO what I long to do and what I've been preparing for in seminary for four years. I never thought it possible, but I am now the Pastor for Worship and Congregational Care at my church. It still feels like a miracle!

I am so, so, grateful - for the friends that stood up for me, for the church that has affirmed me, but most of all for God's lavish provision for me. When I first found out about my new position, I had this incredible sense of how ungrateful I have been in these last few months, of the extent of my lack of faith. I felt like God was probably sitting in heaven, shaking his head in gentle amusement and saying, "See? What were you so worried about? Didn't you know I'd take care of You?"

I wish I could say that receiving this provision has finally cured my lack of faith, but it hasn't. I still get frustrated with God, but now I get frustrated with Him over some of my own friends who are still in the "desert." I long to see them restored, and I don't understand why God seems to work so slowly.

But He does work. He works in His own time, but He works powerfully and lavishly. He IS the God who restores, and for His children the experience of the wilderness is never wasted. I don't always understand His timing, but I am slowly learning to trust that He knows what is best. And He is always good.

I don't deserve the richness of this new blessing - and perhaps that's why receiving this grace makes me so, so grateful.

Everything You [n]Ever Wanted to Know About the Anglican Provincial Assembly

Well, I promised I would post my reflections on the Anglican Provincial Assembly, so here goes nothing. Some of you might find this incredibly boring... but I'll try to make it informative AND at least slightly opinionated in order to keep it interesting.

First, a couple basic facts about the Assembly:

• Over 800 attendees from all over North America, as well as some representatives from the global Anglican Communion. 234 of these attendees (including me!) were voting delegates, representing 28 dioceses or dioceses-in-formation.
• Purpose of the Assembly: formally launch the Anglican Church of North America (ACNA), by ratifying the Constitution and Canons and installing Bishop Bob Duncan as Archbishop and Primate of the ACNA.
  
• Leaders of the various Anglican groups represented at the Assembly had worked on the proposed documents for many months, following up from last summer's GAFCON conference, and with the blessing of the GAFCON Primates. In other words, this was not an Assembly that just popped up out of nowhere - it's been a long time coming.
• Outcome of the Assembly: Constitution and Canons passed without a hitch. Archbishop installed in a beautiful service. Many attendees ecstatic that they finally have a new Province, a church of their own for orthodox Anglicans in North America.

I'm actually in this picture if you look reaaaaal closely...

Ok, enough with being "objective." If you want to read a more complete "objective" synopsis of the Assembly, check out this week's e-update from Church of the Redeemer [link to be posted soon].

I went to the Assembly with a lot of questions about the ACNA, the primary question being, "Is this movement something GOD is doing or something HUMANS are doing?" Granted, on this earth it's never completely one or the other, but I think the balance usually falls to one side more than the other. For example, when I attend AMiA Winter Conferences, I come home absolutely convinced that God is working through AMiA. I hoped that in attending the Provincial Assembly, I would get a better sense of how to evaluate the ACNA.

However, I left asking that same question - which surprised me a bit, considering the fact that during most of my time in Texas I was surrounded by people who are completely sold on the idea of the ACNA, who really believe that this Assembly marked a turning point for Anglicanism in the West, and who believe that God is bringing about a great reformation of the Western church in part through the efforts of North American Anglicans to stand for orthdoxy.

Maybe.

May it be.

But I have some concerns, which make me thankful that AMiA is staying AMiA, even as we are part of the ACNA (yeah, it's complicated... check out Bishop Murphy's statement).

• One of my biggest concerns is that the ACNA is emphasizing unity so strongly that honest discussion about differences is not occurring at this point... and that frightens me. There is a lot of history among the people ACNA is bringing together, and not all of it is Christ-like. In particular, some of the people who are now part of ACNA were highly critical toward AMiA when our leaders first turned to the global primates for "refuge" almost ten years ago. From what I gather, some of these old hurts have not been fully addressed; in fact, while I was at the assembly I sensed some general negativity toward AMiA from the other delegates. And we're not talking about it... That can be dangerous. Without some honest dialogue, confession, and forgiveness, there will be no true unity. Will ACNA foster dialogue or just say "forgive and forget" without doing the hard work the has to precede forgiveness? In my book, the jury is still out...
• Related to that, ACNA encompasses a variety of opinions about some hot-button issues, of which the most volatile is undoubtably women's ordination. Duncan's approach (written into the ACNA Constitution itself) is to say that as of right now this new Province will pass no law altering what individual groups and dioceses already allow concerning the ordination of women (particularly to the priesthood). To paraphrase ++Duncan, "we'll let God sort that issue out in His own time." I like this approach, but I can already tell that it bothers some people, particularly those who are most against women's ordination. My fear is that our enemy will get hold of these differences and tear the ACNA apart before it even gets off the ground... I fear that without much prayer, ACNA could become just another Christian group torn apart by anger, malice, and every other sin that threatens true unity. Pray, pray, pray...
• Finally, I have a sense that some, and perhaps even many, of those joining the ACNA are what I sometimes call "hard-core" Anglicans. To me, hard-core Anglicans are people who place high value on the nitty-gritty details of the Anglican tradition -- they can be snobby about things like which prayer book a group uses and whether the service music was dignified enough. Now, I'm all for the importance of tradition, BUT at the same time, I think there's an approach to liturgy and tradition that crystallizes it as "THE way" and actually deadens it, rather than letting it live and breathe and flex a bit. Anyway, all that to say that I fear the ACNA will be more focused on building church structure and continuing "right" tradition (in reaction against the Episcopal Church) that it neglects mission. In the words of an excellent article I read on this subject, I am worried that in ACNA, like in TEC, "causes replace gospel and self-authentication replaces mission."
  

It doesn't have to be this way. It could be that ACNA will prove to be more than a reactionary movement, more than just one more Christian splinter group that breaks away and then just keeps on splintering. But I am concerned, and concerned enough that I am thankful that AMiA is staying AMiA and continuing its attempts to be faithful to the calling we have received in North America and in partnership with Rwanda.

Forming a new Province is not as simple as ratifying a couple of documents. Forming a new Province, a new body of united Anglicans in North America, is a long process that requires a great deal of prayer and honest dialogue about past hurts and current differences. Unity cannot emerge simple by saying “we are united.” The hardest work of the ACNA might just be yet to come…

And in the meantime, let us pray.

Newly installed ACNA Archbishop Robert Duncan, a.k.a. "Crazy Eyebrows"

Where I've Been for the Past Month

I know, I know, it's been awhile since I last posted. A lot has happened in my life since May 6:

• I graduated from TEDS with my MDiv. Four (intense) years of my life have finally been rewarded with a diploma, a handshake, and a bunch of school loans.

• I fell in love with Montana, thanks to an awesome trip out West for a friend's wedding. I also fell in love with the rental car, a Honda Civic (Shhhh! Don't tell the Red Rocket!).

• I traveled to Atlanta for an AMiA Worship Leaders' Conference with Matt Redman. I would say it was "awesome," but according to Matt that's a word that we should reserve exclusively for God Himself. This conference sparked my creativity and got me thinking about the importance of developing leaders intentionally - which requires sacrifice and humility, because it means surrendering the notion that any of us are indispensable.

• I performed some music at a church-sponsored Coffee House, meant to raise awareness and moolah for the Rwanda trip. It was the first time I thoroughly enjoyed performing in this type of venue.

• The Rwanda team (our pastor and two others) from our church left on their two-week journey. For the first time, my phone number is on the church answering machine as the "call in a pastoral emergency" contact number.

• My grandpa's health has been failing for awhile, and he passed away on Wednesday, June 14, 4 p.m. PST. I booked a last minute flight and went home for a couple of days to support my family. And, for the first time in several years, I got to have breakfast with my dad on Father's Day.

• I arrived back in Chicago around 6 p.m. on Sunday, went home, collapsed in front of the TV for a couple of hours, repacked my suitcase, and flew out again Monday morning at 8 a.m. for the Anglican Provincial Assembly in Bedford, Texas (in between Dallas and Fort Worth). I was very, very tired... but at least I had a whole hotel room to myself!

So, for the past few days I have been in Dallas, attending meetings, hearing speakers, voting on the Canons and Constitution of the new Anglican Province (ACNA = Anglican Church of North America), and generally experiencing life through the eyes of those orthodox Anglicans who have decided to leave the Episcopal Church. I'm still processing everything that I have seen and heard (especially since AMiA will fall under the jurisdiction of the ACNA yet will still remain under the auspices of the Anglican Church of Rwanda), so expect another post about this soon.

Let's just say that I am tired and ready to come back home to Highwood and stay awhile. I hear a rumor that it's summer...

Gifts vs. Roles

Check out this great article on the False Distinction Between Gifts and Roles that many people in the church buy into.* The article is from a blog sponsored by Christianity Today called "Gifted for Leadership," and this particular article is written by a graduate of TEDS, Sarah Flashing. She challenges the church, and particularly women, to think more deeply about what it means to honor God with the spiritual gifts he has placed in us. She also has a great discussion of what submission ought to look like in the church, emphasizing that submission is NOT a "giving up" (negative, shutting down one's gifts) but rather a "giving to" another person (a positive act of love, not a denial of pleasures).

Check it out!



*Forgive the preposition at the end of this sentence, but it sounded way too awkward to write "into which many people in the church buy." As far as I'm concerned, I chose the lesser of the evils!

Till All Our Strivings Cease: Reflections on a Four-Year Journey

Note: What follows is an article I wrote for the most recent student newspaper at TEDS, the "Graduate Scrawl."

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“O Lord God, I am not worthy to be here. I fear to fail you, to go through this program without deepening in you. Forgive me for my lack of faith, Lord. May my efforts here show forth Your glory.”

With the words of this prayer, scribbled on a notecard during Orientation, I began my master’s degree at Trinity. Fearing failure. Fearing weakness. Longing to please God but fearful my own inadequacies would keep me from being “good enough.” Four years later, as I reflect back on my time at TEDS I can’t help but think of a well-worn vignette from C. S. Lewis’s Prince Caspian, when Aslan takes Eustace and strips off the dragon skin, transforming Eustace from a selfish, petty boy to a mature young man. I suspect I know exactly how Eustace felt–God has used the past four years to strip away some of the toughest layers of my own dragon skin so that I can minister as the person He made me to be.

Stripping the Outermost Layer: From “T” to “F”

One of the thickest layers the Lord has stripped away during my time at TEDS was my pride in my intellect. When I entered seminary, I saw myself primarily as a walking mind; I valued intellectual ability and rational thinking above all else. Imagine my horror when I took the Keirsey Temperament Sorter in “Personal Assessment” and discovered that I am a “Feeler,” not a “Thinker”! I took the test over and over, trying my hardest to be a “T” while still answering honestly. After all, I was destined to become one of the great academicians, dazzling the world with my theological treatises, NOT one of those “touchy-feely” counselor-types.

It wasn’t until my third year in seminary that I began to embrace being an “F”. By God’s grace, that year I enjoyed community and friendship as never before; for the first time in my life I found myself spending as much time with people as with my books. To my astonishment, I discovered that I actually love being with people, talking with people, listening to people, caring for people, even counseling people. In other words, I found I had a heart for ministry, not just a mind for theology.

Destroying the Deadliest Layer: From Striving to Resting

During my first two years at seminary, I worked over twenty hours a week, carried a full class load, participated on music teams in chapel and at church, ran four miles multiple times a week, helped to lead a student group, and slept an average of six hours a night. I was miserable, but I felt I couldn’t afford to spend time resting.

I resisted rest, fearing that if I stopped, I would fail – fail to earn As, to earn enough money, to earn approval from friends and professors, to keep in shape, … to please God. As hard as I worked, I was haunted by a deep, deep sense that I was never good enough and could never measure up to God’s standard for me. I knew in my head that my relationship with God relies more on His faithfulness than mine, but I was so fearful of spiritual complacency that I could not rest in His grace. I appended a string of “ifs” to “My grace is sufficient for you.”

But my frantic pace could not continue forever, and eventually my body rebelled. I was forced to rest and thus to face what I feared most: the silence of inactivity, where striving must cease. In that terrible silence, I have begun to learn the most basic and the most difficult lesson of all: grace. Following God is not a matter of doing or working hard but of continual surrender, learning to be dependent on Him and transformed by Him – being willing to submit as He strips the dragon-layers away.


Leaving the Layers Behind

As I prepare to graduate, less of a dragon than when I arrived, I am equal parts excited and scared. This “ministry” thing is still new to me – four years ago, I was merely a mind who eventually wanted to teach. I’m still getting used to the “new me,” the one who loves church work and treasures the deep privilege of rejoicing with those who rejoice and weeping with those who weep, the one who ministers not just in what she does but out of who she is. I still doubt my own abilities to “make it” in ministry, but I know that God has called me. And I am beginning to suspect that His strength just might actually be made perfect in my weakness.