Lord, when you favored me,
    you made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed.
                                    Psalm 30:7

Praying each day gives us the best perspective from which to learn about the ever-changing landscape of this relationship.  We get to build today upon things the Lord taught us yesterday as we grow, in an accumulating way, according to the “lessons” of prayer.  We also learn about the fluctuating experiences of feeling lost and found in prayer, and how God uses both these experiences to form us.

Prayer comes quite easily to us on some days.  The moment we close our eyes we somehow fall into the slipstream of the Spirit and feel carried and buoyed by the obvious presence of God.  It is very easy at such times to feel we have a handle on this business of praying—that we finally know how to do this.  Our new-found ease at prayer seems to suggest that we have come to a different level of maturity.

But there are other days when we are more in a state of fog.  There seems to be a wall blocking our access to God or to ourselves.  Perhaps we feel rushed, or impatient, or are carrying more doubts or anxieties than we realized.  For whatever reason, we are unable to rest in the invitation of prayer.

The Psalmist recognizes both these experiences of prayer as normal—from the delight of God’s favour to the dismay we feel that God might have hidden His face from us.  What marks our spiritual maturity though is not which side we experience most often, but more how we interpret what we are experiencing in light of our relationship with God.

When the Psalmist is unable to find God as he had hoped, he is dismayed.  He doesn’t overly analyze his situation.  Nor does he blame himself, or assume that this is a situation he can change.  He simply expresses his dismay to God.  His very disappointment becomes his prayer—a lament that expresses his feeling of being lost, exiled as it were from God’s presence.

On the other hand, the Psalmist is just as quick to acknowledge the experience of his “mountain standing firm” as resulting from the Lord’s favour (v. 7).  He sees this blessing purely as gift.  There is no sense of personal achievement here.  No self-congratulation is warranted.  It is simply and solely the favour of the Lord that has granted him, on this particular day, the relationship that he longs for in prayer.

Only through a daily familiarity with the ebbs and flows of prayer can we come to appreciate how God uses both these experiences to form us and to purify our desires for Him.  Both are gifts that can edify us.  In the one—the experience of dismay—the Lord increases our longing, and our prayer becomes a lament.  Through the other—His favour alone—He satisfies it, and our prayer becomes one of gratitude for the gracious gift of God’s presence that we have received.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. How does God use your practice of daily prayer to teach you not only through His presence, but also through His seeming absence?  What patterns do you see in your response to these two experiences?

2. When prayer comes easy to you do you feel it is because you have done something right?  When prayer is difficult do you presume it is your fault?  How can you receive both these experiences more as gifts than as the result of achievement or failure?

3. Consider the fact that when the Psalmist feels that God has perhaps hidden His face, “he doesn’t overly analyze his situation.  Nor does he blame himself, or assume that this is a situation he can change.  He simply expresses his disappointment to God.”  How is this different from how you react to a similar experience in prayer?

FOR PRAYER:  Present yourself to the mystery of prayer, not knowing whether prayer today will be easy or hard for you.  Prepare yourself beforehand to accept either experience as from God, anticipating that, at the end of your prayer, you will either be thanking Him for His favour, or you will be expressing your longing for Him through the dismay of not having been able to be with your Lord as you had hoped to.

For more from Imago Dei go to  www.imagodeicommunity.ca   

There is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.  Eccl. 3:5

One of the things I love about church services is the way God often catches me by surprise with new twists I wasn’t expecting.  I am used to thinking theologically throughout my week as I study and write about Scripture, but this very discipline can also limit my understanding.  Like any pastor or teacher I risk developing a theology overly based on “the gospel according to me.”  But the wider expressions of a church service offer a safeguard against this by providing fresh images, concepts, wordings and interpretations that I would’ve never thought of myself.

Anne Smith, the pastor at the Church at Southpoint, is one of my favourite sources for such fresh imagery.  She is very good at finding memorable metaphors in everyday life.  As part of a recent call to worship, Anne spoke about watching kids at Crescent Beach jump off the end of a pier into the water below.  The current there is strong enough that by the time you have resurfaced from your dive, it has carried you a few yards away from where you first entered the water.

Anne observed how kids sometimes hold onto the pier and let the current lift their legs until they are horizontal to the water.  She shared how that reminded her of the way we sometimes have to hold onto God when there are strong currents pulling us downstream.  We can all relate to such times when life is a blur and we find ourselves reaching for a much needed spiritual anchor.  But then Anne flipped this metaphor around and had us consider the possibility that perhaps God was not the pier, but the current.  Sometimes it’s the pier we are holding onto that we have to let go of in order to let ourselves be taken by God’s current in life.  What we need to exercise at those times is not tenacity but the virtue of trust.

Anne concluded her call to worship by inviting people to identify where they presently are in relation to these two metaphors.  “Perhaps you are desperately trying to return to God right now, while life seems to be pulling you away,” she said.  “Or perhaps the Lord is inviting you instead to let go of the pier you are holding onto for security and to trust that He will carry you in the current of His love.”

The two metaphors describe well the gamut of spiritual direction that we all go back and forth in—the tension between form and freedom that we live with.  There are times when we are straying and that the Lord calls us to re-anchor ourselves in Him.  At those times we are to lash ourselves more securely to the mast of Christ lest the draw of the world, or of our fears and worries, pull us even farther from God.  But there are other times when the very things we are holding onto are themselves the problem—perhaps it is our circumstances, our expectations or our entrenched concepts.  They curtail our freedom as we cling to them, rather than God, for our security.  At those times the Lord encourages us to loosen our fear-based grip and to allow ourselves to float more trustingly according to the flow of His guidance.

Two metaphors with two very different applications.  It is good to know which direction the Lord is indicating as you read this today, as either one might well be the corrective you need.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. To what extent do you think your theology might be based more on “the gospel according to me” than it should be?  In what ways have you seen God use the diversity of creative expressions in a church service to offset this hazard?

2. Which metaphor best describes your usual relationship with God: do you usually see God as a “pier” that you hold onto, or as the current that you wish to freely abandon yourself to?

3. What are the “piers” that secure you in life?  Which ones represent the security of holding onto God?  Which ones might be false securities that the Lord would rather you let go of?

FOR PRAYER:  Hold both these metaphors as possible images of your present relationship with God.  Ask the Lord to apply them to the many relationships of your life.  Pray for tenacity if that is what the Lord is indicating, or for trust to release whatever false security He is asking you to let go of.

My wife and I recently returned from our seventh excursion on the Camino de Santiago (or the Chemin de St. Jacques as it is called in France).  We have become quite familiar with the spiritual exercise that this pilgrimage walk affords and know more than ever how to participate internally with the type of incarnational prayer that walking 20-25 km each day inspires.  We have also become much more accepting of the many states of souls that such a discipline produces in us.  If nothing else the Camino is a profound school where one learns how to walk with equanimity through the desolations and consolations of life.

Like an ever-changing weather system, each day on the Camino features very marked periods of darkness and light—times of wonderful freedom and well-being as well as times of desolation when you just want to quit and go home. Everything seems amplified under the microscope of solitude and silence.  “I’m tired…it’s getting too hot….not another hill….not another blister …my back is sore…my feet are sore…I hardly slept last night…how much longer?”  The “noon-day devil” shows up in both the literal and figurative heat of the day.  It takes the wind out of your sail.  You wonder why you ever took this on in the first place.

But there are also many consolations in a day that are just as unpredictable and fleeting.  A sudden cool breeze, the shade of a tree you walk under, the taste of grapes you’ve picked from a vineyard along the path, the fresh smells of an early dawn, the precious silence where the only sounds you hear are those of your own footsteps, and the well-being you feel throughout your body as, climbing many steep hills in the course of a day, your heart and lungs are fully exercised.

And then there are the many unexpected thoughts and visions that come to you with a rare quality of spiritual enthusiasm, joy and hope about your life and future.  There are also those fresh gusts of courage that, for no explicable reason, suddenly show up as a spring in your step in spite of having walked wearily for the past 5 kms.  And most significant are those wonderful and unexpected waves of inner freedom that grace you as a gentle infusion from God—what Ignatius of Loyola calls “consolations without cause.”

The main thing these quickly changing spirits teach you is the temporary nature of both consolations and desolations.  How they suddenly show up in your day and, unless you fixate on them, they just as quickly disappear.  To accept them all rather than chase the one and try to avoid the other, I think, is part of the art of walking our life pilgrimages well.

Through physical pilgrimage I have learned that it is not the hardship of the road that discourages me as much as the narrative I tell myself about those hardships.  Our negative inner dialogue can exhaust our spirits much more than the outside stresses of our day do.  Instead of digging deep for the courage to persevere, we find ourselves resentfully dreaming of alternatives to the life we are living.  And we end up defeating ourselves by overly fixating on our discontent rather than simply accepting the desolations of a day as a normal part of life.

Jesus taught us that each day will have trouble of its own (Mt. 6:34). Who knows what today will bring—what weather we might be given, how many hills we might face, what people will unexpectedly cross our paths, or how our bodies and spirits will hold up to the demands ahead of us?  Whatever the day brings, Psalm 118 reminds us that “this is the day that the Lord has made”.  And it is in this day, not in the day we might prefer, that we are called to rejoice and be glad.

1. Which response are you more prone to resort to when you face a desolation: digging deep for the courage to persevere, or spending time dreaming of alternatives to the trials you face?

2. Consider Abbot John Chapman’s comment that “we refuse God’s will if we are constantly dissatisfied with what we get from Him.”  How can you more fully embrace “the day the Lord has made” and learn to rejoice and be glad in all that it entails?

3. How does the way you speak to yourself about your desolations make them more difficult to bear?  Instead of compounding your desolations with this additional layer, how might you better approach the hardships you face in terms of the inner dialogue they inspire in you?

FOR PRAYER:   Take opportunity one day this week to keep a journal of every consolation or desolation that you experience.  Note the ones that have identifiable causes, but especially note the ones that come to you “without cause.”  In your prayer, ask God to help you accept both desolations and consolations as a normal part of how He works each day in your life.

My sheep will hear my voice.  They will not follow the voice of a stranger but will run from it.                                           John 10:27

“Do not believe every spirit but test them to see if they come from God”  (1Jn. 4:1).
So counsels the apostle John.  But how often do we actually heed this counsel?  How many decisions, actions or false interpretations of our circumstances are inspired by a spirit other than Christ’s?   And how can we be more attentive to these spirits so that we can learn to ignore or flee the many “stranger’s voices” that would otherwise lead us away from the peace of God’s guidance?

I am convinced that there are many spirits that influence my thinking and actions in the course of a day, and that not all of them come from God.  They threaten to derail my spiritual direction in both the large decisions of life as well as the seemingly trivial ones.  These spirits might even lead me to good actions, but if they do so by a spirit that is not from Christ, they will inevitably bear a bad fruit in me.

What does a good action led by a bad spirit look like?  A typical example of this for a pastor might be the perennial feeling that I should phone or visit someone.  There is nothing wrong of course with this initiative but the spirit that inspires such a good action might not necessarily be from the Lord.  It could be a spirit of guilt that I want to relieve.   Or perhaps it is my fear of what the person might think of me if I don’t call.  Or worse, it could be my secret hope that they will see me as a good pastor if I do show such care.  In each of these cases it is easy to recognize that the spirit inspiring this action comes from below rather than from above.  If that is so then, according to Jesus, I should choose to not follow that spirit.

It is not the thought of visiting this person that is wrong, but more the reason for doing so.  Rather than follow a spirit of guilt, fear or manipulation into this action, I should wait for another spirit to lead me, one that I more easily recognize as my Shepherd’s voice.   Perhaps it will be a spirit of compassion, love, or of genuine concern for this person that motivates me to action.  This is the spirit I should act on as I now recognize it as having Christ-like characteristics.  Following this good spirit, my visit or conversation with this person will surely be different than if I had acted according to the “stranger’s voice.”

Following this same reasoning, I have made it a rule to never let myself be led in any of my actions or decisions by a spirit of anxiety.  The moment I sense that anxiety is the interface between me and some task or decision I am considering I will let go of that spirit and wait for a more Godly one, perhaps joy, love, peace or freedom, to lead me into this action .

For much of my life, fear and stress have overly motivated me in my responses.  They have, in fact, been my spiritual directors, leading my actions, initiatives and inspiring too often how I interpret the circumstances of my life and future.  Looking back I can see how the fruit that this spirit bore in me and in my relationship to life did not resemble the grace of God.  As Jesus asks, “Can a thorn bush bear grapes?” (Mt. 7:16)

Guilt, anxiety or fear are all very effective motivators for action.  Much gets done in this world prompted by such negative spirits.  But we can easily become slaves to such spirits and we need to recognize how dishonouring it is to the Lord when we do.  To walk through life as if the sky is about to fall is not only harmful but also undignified for the children of God.  Jesus tells us to not heed the “stranger’s voice” that offers to lead us in our life and action by such spirits of guilt, fear or worry.  Instead we are to honour God in the poise of faith, as children who truly trust their Lord.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. Can you think of times when you have been led to a decision or action by a spirit of guilt, fear or anxiety?  What fruit did this spirit bear in you or in this situation?  Is there a negative spirit that is overly determining your responses to life?

2. How can you cultivate a greater awareness of the various spirits that lead you in the course of a day so that you can choose more wisely which ones to follow?

3. How does the practice of silent prayer help you identify such spirits that are suggesting themselves to you?  How does it help you be more attentive to the spiritual movements that take place within you in the course of a day?

FOR PRAYER:  Take time in prayer to examine the spirit behind each thought you have.  How would you name each of these spirits?  Is it a spirit of fear?  Of gratitude?  Of enthusiasm?  Of anxiety?  Of self-pity?  Of  trust? etc.

I have considered my ways and have turned my steps to your statutes.
                                                                                             Psalm 119:59

Gordon T. Smith has written much about vocation and discerning God’s call on our lives.  In a recent interview for Regent College he recommends six questions that we should ask ourselves before we begin a process of discernment, especially one that is related to our vocation.

The first question is: What on earth is God doing?  Before we discern personal matters it is important to remind ourselves of the larger context we find ourselves in.  In Smith’s words, we need to remember that “the Creator and Redeemer of all things is always at work in our world, and in history.”  In other words, when we consider the question of what God is doing in our personal lives we should always do so in the context of God’s overall purposes in the world.

The second question is: Who am I?, This is not something we can always presume to know.  As Smith notes, “For many people the biggest obstacle to vocational discernment is their lack of self-knowledge.”  He adds, “Self-knowledge is the essential precursor to vocational discernment, for God’s calling in your life will always be consistent with how God made you.”  An accurate knowledge of self helps us to more realistically accept who we are, and who we are called to be. As Smith notes, “It is a mark of humility and freedom to be able to say, ‘This is who I am and I do not wish to be anybody other than who I am before God’.”

The third question asks: At what stage of life are you at?  Our vocation is something that  evolves slowly throughout our lives.  A person in their twenties or a person in their forties or sixties will discern God’s call differently.  At every stage of life it is important to accept both the opportunities and limitations of our age.  For some this will require patience.  It is unrealistic, for instance, to presume you should be further along in your vocation or in your spiritual growth than you actually are.  For others, it will require a healthy acceptance that we are no longer called to respond to life in the same ways we used to be.

Related to this is the question: What are your circumstances?  As we ask this of ourselves Smith counsels that,

• The crucial thing is to name your present reality in a hope-filled way. Not nostalgically, not regretfully, but to realize that your vocation is always historically located.

Vocation grows out of the reality of who and where you presently are.  You cannot go back to a previous starting point, nor can you fast-forward to the future.  Discernment is simply asking the Lord, at every stage of life, “Where do we go from here?”

Gordon Smith’s fifth question is: What is the cross you have been called to bear?  Responding to our vocation inevitably requires exchanging other life-options in order to grow into the precious pearl of our “name in Christ.” What are you called to “leave” before you can “cleave” to your new creation? Perhaps it is letting go of your own cherished ideals or imagined futures that represent some of the crosses you must bear in becoming who you truly are in Christ.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, is the question: What are you afraid of? As Smith  notes, “The greatest obstacles to fulfilling your vocation are usually internal, not external.”  We fear failure.  But we also fear success, especially the change and risk that it implies.  Once we have named such fears in our discernment we can more intentionally choose whether to let them dictate our spiritual direction or not.

These six questions help create a stable platform from which to seek God in the disposition of our lives.  We can then apply the wisdom of discernment to the actual life we are living, rather than to the idealized one we might otherwise be chasing.

-St. Ignatius of Loyola

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

Take time to write out your answers to these six questions as related to your present circumstances.

1. What on earth is God doing?  How do you see your present circumstances as related to God’s purposes in the world and in history?
2. Who am I?  How easy is it for you to say, “This is who I am and I do not wish to be anybody other than who I am before God?
3. At what stage of life am I at?  How has your relationship to your vocation evolved over the years? Do you feel impatient with the slow progress of your life?
4. What are my circumstances?  How do your present circumstances relate to where God might be leading you next? Does knowing this help you name your present reality in a hope-filled way?
5. What is the cross I have been called to bear?  What cherished dreams might you have to let go of in order to become who you truly are in Christ?  What do you need to “leave” in order to “cleave” to your new creation?  What are some other crosses you are being called to bear at this time?
6. What am I afraid of?  What fears prevent you from moving in the direction of your vocation?  How can you acknowledge these fears as a way of not letting them overly determine your spiritual direction?

If you are in a group, share your answers to these questions with one another.

FOR PRAYER:  Pray that you (as well as others in your group) might come to a place of assurance, knowing and accepting that you are where God has placed you.  Express your faith that wherever the Lord might lead you next will grow out of this present reality.

“As for me, if I am bereaved, I am bereaved”.    Gen. 43:23

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Joseph is sold to slave traders by his brothers.  But by the grace of God, he becomes the chief administrator of Egypt at a time when there is a great famine in the land.  Because of Joseph’s foresight, Egypt is the only nation that has a stockpile of grain which it now feeds itself on, as well as sells to foreigners.  Joseph’s father Jacob sends Joseph’s brothers to buy grain from the chief administrator, not realizing that this is the very brother they sold to slavery years ago.  During their interview with Joseph they mention  they have another brother, Benjamin, a favourite son of Jacob’s because he especially loved his mother Rachel, who was also Joseph’s mother. The brothers are given grain but Joseph tells them they will not see his face again unless they bring Benjamin with them.

The famine is severe throughout the region and Gen. 43:2 tells us that “when they had eaten all the grain they had brought from Egypt, their father said to them, ‘Go back and buy us a little more food.’”  The sons remind Jacob that the condition of their return is to bring their brother Benjamin with them which Jacob is reluctant to do, having presumably already lost his son Joseph.  After much deliberation, the patriarch resigns himself to the potential loss of his other beloved son saying “if I am bereaved, I am bereaved.”  He is in a precarious position.  His fate rests in the hands of another and he has no choice but to place himself at the mercy of this narrative.

It is a position we often find ourselves in as well—times when we must totally trust God in situations that could easily work against our favour.  Like Jacob, we recognize that the outcome is totally in God’s hands.  And in the acknowledgement of that truth we somehow find faith to accept the notion that “if I lose, I lose.”

Such faith has many applications in life.  Perhaps it is the fear of rejection where, as you approach your vulnerable moment, you must be reconciled that, “If they reject me, they reject me.”  Or perhaps it is the fear of perfectionism that must be countered by the courage to say, “If I fail, I fail.”  Or maybe it is death itself that you must inevitably approach saying “if I die, I die.”  We hear something of this disposition in Queen Esther who, feeling trepidation in having to ask the king’s mercy for her people, bravely accepts that, “If I perish, I perish.” (Esther 4:16)

Such statements might seem more like resignation or fatalism than faith, but there is great wisdom in this disposition.  Our prior acceptance of the worst case scenario allows us to move forward according to a more pure faith in God, rather than one restricted only to our hopes.  It asserts faith regardless of consequences.  “If I fail, I fail.” “If they fire me, they fire me.” “If they don’t like me, they don’t like me.” “If I suffer loss, I suffer loss.” These are all empowering statements that help us move forward as we accept the uncertain outcome of situations we have no control over.

As we embrace the unknowns of our circumstances, and the very real possibility of a worst-case scenario, we disarm the enemy of his greatest weapon against us—our own fear of undesired outcomes.  We are then left with a more pure faith that now trusts God even in those precarious situations of life where things can truly go either way. No longer paralyzed by the fear of failure or of harm, we throw ourselves into God’s hands, trusting that His mercy will continue to be with us even if the outcome is not as we had hoped.  Into His hands we commit our spirits.  And, in so doing, we are free.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. What difference do you see between the faith that says, “I trust God that this or that will happen,” or one that simply says “I trust God no matter what?”  What do we have to let go of in order to grow from the one posture to the other?

2. Which of the following statements do you struggle with most?  “If I lose, I lose.”  “If they reject me, they reject me.” “I I fail, I fail.”  “If I die, I die.”

3. How does faith transform such statements from resignation into something that is more honouring to God, and more empowering to us?

FOR PRAYER:  Apply any one of the statements in Question #2 to a particular situation where you feel resistance to this posture.  Talk to God about your fear and ask the Spirit to give you faith, especially in relationship to your worst-case scenario.

The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.   Ex. 33:9

I have had many roles to play in the upbringing of my three children, from diaper-changer, to play-mate, to provider, to teacher and encourager.  My children have, and continue to bring forth many facets of who I am to them.  But my role in their lives these days (other than being the fount of way too much unsolicited advice J) has been mostly reduced to one simple facet—I feel more like a friend to them than a parent.

We see something similar in the unique relationship that our Father has had with individuals throughout Scripture—people like Moses to whom the Lord spoke “face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.”  Abraham as well is referred to as God’s friend (Isa. 41:8).  It is a relationship that the Lord seeks with each one of us as well.  What the prophet Samuel says of David applies to everyone: “The Lord has sought for Himself a man (or woman) after His own heart” (1Sam 13:14).  The invitation to be God’s friend  should be the desire and hope of every Christian.  But what exactly does this mean, and how are we to grow in this?

Friendship is the fruit of a shared life.  When you first meet someone there is no telling whether this relationship will grow or not.  Sometimes we might wish to pursue a friendship with someone but it never amounts to more than a casual acquaintance.  With other people, just the fact of sharing a church, a workspace or a neighbourhood is enough to foster a recurring familiarity that breeds a lasting friendship, one that often continues long after we have changed churches, jobs or locations.  What is it that has made these relationships different from our more casual ones?  What are the affinities that have sustained our desire to go “deeper and longer” with these people?  How have the simple facts of proximity and repeated occasions for interaction contributed to the likelihood of a friendship forming?  And how do all these factors also encourage our growing friendship with God?

A friend is someone who knows you and your story well.  They have shared some deep experiences of life with you.  A friend is also someone you feel comfortable opening yourself up to.  The disclosure of our lives and the trust that is implied in sharing such details is the foundation of any true friendship.  So it is with God’s friendship with us.  As Jesus says in John 15:15,

• I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.

Can we also say the same thing to Jesus—that “I call You my Friend, because I make everything known to You?”

To  “know and be known” by others is one of our deepest psychological needs.  According to Jesus, it is also one of the most important elements in our relationship with God.  The simple fact that you and the Lord know each other well and that you share all things with each other is what constitutes the difference between being a servant or a friend of Jesus.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. In what ways do you presently know God as a friend?  In what ways do you feel more like a servant, or like a child with a parent in this relationship?

2. What does it mean for you to be someone “after God’s own heart?”  What does that inspire in you?

3. Think of a close friend you have today and try to remember when you first met this person, not knowing at the time that they would become the friend they are to you today.  How did this relationship evolve?  How did you come to know and be known by this person?  What choices did you or your friend make to encourage this relationship to deepen?  How does this also apply to your relationship with God?

FOR PRAYER:  Express to God something of your desire to be His friend.  Value the opportunity that prayer offers you to become more familiar with each other.  Take time to share, as you would with a best friend, the intimacies of your life with Jesus—whatever you are thinking or feeling about yourself or your circumstances.