The Spirituality of Waiting

This is my article that was published on the blog of "Weavings," a journal for the Christian spiritual life. To see the original post, see The Spirituality of Waiting.

We know that waiting is a difficult concept for us. Our culture demands fast food, fast cars, and fast answers. We are accustomed to having a world of information at our fingertips with laptops and smart phones. We expect pills that will immediately take the pain away. Simply put, we don’t like to wait.

I appreciate Advent for all sorts of reasons. I love the music, I love the missions, and I love the families that work and play together as we prepare to celebrate the coming of Christ!

But one of the main reasons I value Advent is that it puts us in touch with a deep spiritual reality that we too often neglect. The things of the Holy Spirit take time. Feasting on the Word is not a fast food meal, but an experience to be savored. Prayer is not a quick fix but an invitation to be changed from within over time. Forgiveness doesn’t happen overnight but can be quite a journey. Feeling at home in a local church takes “making a home” there, building relationships that last. A deeper relationship with God is not something we can download instantaneously.

During Advent, we become people who get in touch with that part of ourselves that is empty for God. Advent is counter-cultural in a time when we expect instant results. I pray that this year, we prepare a manger of the heart for Christ to be born anew.

Steve West is a husband, father, minister, musician, and writer who serves as senior pastor of Saint Mark UMC in Birmingham, AL. His blog, “Musings of a Musical Preacher,” is found at stevewestsmusings.blogspot.com.

A Snow Globe Worship Experience

The past several days were very busy for me. I had a funeral come up to celebrate the life of a dear church member, I held a series of meetings related to staff, I went out of town for a championship football game, and I had a myriad of wonderful Christmas parties to attend over the weekend (when you are an extravert, Sunday School Christmas parties you are invited to are one of the best “perks” of being a pastor). The weekend culminated on Sunday, our arrival at the “first day of the week,” when we experienced the second Sunday of Advent with wonderful music, drama, and joyfulness.

I think the highlight of my worship time this week was not one of the three services (including the funeral) that I led yesterday. It was being led in worship by our awesome youth group last night, who had a youth-led worship experience in the youth center. They focused on finding calm and rest in the midst of a stressful time of year.

As I walked in, I felt as if I was walking into the calm of a snow globe. This was, after all, their intended effect. I loved the music of the youth praise band music. I loved the strings of lights, the snow globe worship backdrop on the screen, and the altar setting with candles next to the tree. The prayers were deep, the music was great, the readers and speakers were wonderful, and the thoughts shared were rich. Most of all, as a “professional worship leader,” it was wonderful to just kick back, relax, and be led by such a thought-provoking, restful, and faithfully planned worship time.

It truly got me in touch with the “silent night” I so desperately needed. Toward the end of our time together, the youth gave out snow globes as a worship gift, inviting us to find the peace of the Prince of Peace. They led some wonderful quiet prayer time, and I went away feeling refreshed and invigorated.

This morning, I spent some time turning over my snow globe again, watching the snow fall, and meditating on the scripture from Philippians 2 we were asked to take with us. I am so grateful for worship that is not only heart-felt, but also so faithful to the gospel call to step out of the chaos of consumerism and hyperactivity and into the calming sea of the life of God. Thank you so much, youth group!

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.

The Journey of Advent Has Begun!

What is this “Advent” we have entered?

First of all, it’s not Christmas … yet. In the Western church, the season of Christmas (also called Christmastide) begins on Christmas Eve and lasts for twelve days, ending on January 6. The twelve days of Christmas did not start with the song … it was the other way around! I love to keep the Christmas lights up until January 6. I’m often the last holdout on the street where I live.

The time before Christmas is Advent, a season of preparation. This tradition is much older than contemporary cultural Christmas traditions. It’s not time to say “Merry Christmas” yet. Christians prepare for the birth of Jesus by remembering the longing of the Old Testament prophets for a Messiah. The word “Advent” comes from the Latin word adventus, which means “coming” or “visit.” We keep in mind both “advents” of Christ, the first in Bethlehem, and the second which is yet to come.

Some people, as children, have Advent calendars, decorative paper displays with 25 little “windows,” one of which you can open each day of December leading up to Christmas. Some Advent calendars are made of wood and featuring 25 little boxes with treasures inside. Many families light the Advent wreath at home, not just at church, and this has always been a rich part of my family’s life. Last week I emailed the people of the church I serve a sample order for Advent worship and devotions in the home around the wreath.

If you’re from a tradition that is unfamiliar with Advent, I imagine that it’s odd to think of the weeks before Christmas as something more than Christmastime. There are things about Advent that you might find odd if you’re unfamiliar with it. The strangest might be the color scheme. We associate Christmas with the typical Christmas colors of red, green, and white. Advent, on the other hand, features purple (or dark blue). The purple color signifies royalty (purple was in ancient times the most expensive dye, associated with kings and queens). We are, indeed, longing for a king. Come, Lord Jesus.

Secular culture ignores Advent because there isn’t much money to be made there. I think, however, there are lots of good reasons for us to pay more attention to Advent. For one thing, we have deep longings for God to do a new thing in us. Get in touch with your yearning for Christ to be born in some new way in our broken world and in our broken hearts.

Seasons of Worship and the Seasons of Life

As American people, we emerged from this past week with what I hope is more than a couple of extra pounds! Perhaps we have emerged with a deeper sense of gratitude for all of God’s blessings. Now that we have stepped through the door of Thanksgiving, we have entered what is customarily called the holiday season. This coming Sunday, the season of Advent begins. Like you, I simply love the smells and sights, the lights and traditions of this time of year.

There is something very earthy, very primordial about worship being embedded in our annual seasons. The deepest worship experience of the heart comes from realizing that worship is not a singular event designed to give you something practical you can use. Rather, worship is a life, a rhythm, an entry into the life of God and into the sacred story. When we give ourselves to the spiritual life of worship, rather than coming to it with our own expectations about what it should “do” for us, the deepest worship begins to happen in our hearts.

For this reason, the church has given us a holy gift in observing seasons of the Christian year. Our worship moments are guideposts along the way of life, and they are designed to immerse ourselves in the whole of the gospel story from start to finish. This last week was the big finale, Christ the King Sunday, when we proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord. This week, the circle of life begins again. We go back to the deep longing for a Messiah, one who is to come and redeem the broken world we live in.

We are seasonal people in so many ways. On the largest level, there is an essentially seasonal nature of our existence. We go through seasons of our life as we age and through seasons in our relationships and our spirituality. On a slightly smaller level, each year we go through seasons that relate to the revolution of the earth around the sun. Our whole world goes through these seasons. Our worship life does, too, and we connect with the gospel story from beginning to end. On an even smaller level, each week has its seasons … it begins with the Lord’s Day of worship, we plunge into our work and projects, and we rest and play. On the smallest level, even our days themselves are seasonal … there is morning, noon, and night. There is time to eat, time to work, time to relax, and time to sleep.

The seasons of life, the seasons of the year, and the seasons of the day all remind us that we are people of the seasons. And here we go again.

It saddens me when cultural observances seem to take precedence in our minds over the holy days of the Christian year. As we go from Christ the King Sunday to the first Sunday of Advent, I invite you to enter the holy rhythm of worship life that has profoundly shaped generations of Christians. The life-changing glory of worship is that we worship in context of a greater movement of grace!

I Thirst

An important facet of the spiritual formation of John Wesley, founder of Methodism, began long before his heart-warming experience on Aldersgate Street. As he traveled to Georgia in mission, he fell in love with the singing of German Moravians. Their spiritual songs and poetry, venturing beyond conventional metrical psalms of the time, captivated his soul.

It would take him a while to embrace the "religion of the heart" he was beginning to taste. But he was so touched that he learned German in order to translate their songs. Long before his brother Charles began his career as the most prolific hymn writer of history, John introduced these songs to his mission. It was such a radical idea that he was accused of introducing songs that were "not inspected or authorized by any proper judicature."

I have been meditating on one of these spiritual songs I found in praying through my 1813 copy of the "Double Hymnbook," a pocket hymnal with a supplement compiled by Bishop Asbury. It contains "I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God", one of these hymns translated from German by John Wesley. It captivates me. I have included the text below, and in a future post I may add some of my commentary.

For a beautiful contemporary musical setting, listen to "I Thirst".

I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.

Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me wear;
That pledge of love for ever there!

How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.

What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe!
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!

How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?

Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost; nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
"My Lord, my Love is crucified."

Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.

First-born of many brethren thou!
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, thine may we live!

Trust in the Slow Work of God

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin was a French Jesuit priest, biologist, geologist, and philosopher who lived until 1955. At times, his ideas were at odds with the church.

This quote was shared by one of the faculty at a recent Academy for Spiritual Formation, and it touched me deeply. I spent some more time with it this morning in prayer and want to share it with you.

I believe that we rush God's slow, abiding work in us so often and therefore, we pass by or gloss over the deep work God wants to do in us. Healing takes time, and grace pours out abundantly like a meandering stream we must come back to time and again for refreshing water.

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way
to something unknown,
something new.
Yet it is the law of all progress that is made
by passing through some stages of instability
and that may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually. Let them grow.
Let them shape themselves without undue haste.
Do not try to force them on
as though you could be today what time
-- that is to say, grace --
and circumstances
acting on your own good will
will make you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new Spirit
gradually forming in you will be.

Give our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.
Above all, trust in the slow work of God,
our loving vine-dresser.

Pictured is Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.

The Only Unconditional Love

This quote from Henri Nouwen resonates with my soul:

"The spiritual life starts at the place where you can hear God's voice. Where somehow you can claim that long before your father, you mother, your brother, your sister, your school, your church touched you, loved you, and wounded you- long before that, you were held safe in an eternal embrace. You were seen with eyes of perfect love long before you entered into the dark valley of life...The spiritual life starts at the moment that you can go beyond all of the wounds and claim that there was a love that was perfect and unlimited, long before that perfect love became reflected in the imperfect and limited, conditional love of people. The spiritual life starts where you dare to claim the first love. - Love one another because I have first loved you. (I John 4:19)"

We look to others for love, and rightly so, but the only love others can give is imperfect love. People we love in our churches and families can hurt us, in part because they are at the mercy of their own brokenness, and in part because we really expect too much of them. We long for unconditional love, but others can only show us a dark mirror reflecting a greater love.

The only way to truly be grounded in Christian maturity is to be rooted in the one love beyond all human ability to love. It's the love of  Christ, who in his very person is the incarnate expression of the unconditional love of God. The more we get in touch with that first love, the more we begin to accept others in the body of Christ for their raspy personalities and rough edges.