I've just returned from my first session at Trinity Wall Street's Clergy Leadership Project. Here is a profound story I learned about the reign of God as told by the staff and Chaplains of CLP:
The Chambered Nautilus
The nautilus is a living fossil whose close relatives date back hundreds of millions of years into geologic history. There are a few things we know about the life of the nautilus that invite us to think about our own lives. These animals live of course in their shell, but unlike other shelled sea animals they only live in a portion of the shell--one chamber at a time. The next chamber is constantly under construction. Each previous chamber is necessary for the animal to "swim" through the currents of the sea. Amazingly, each chamber is seven percent bigger than the chamber before it. When the animal grows the seven percent, it moves into the next chamber and starts preparing for the next move by building still another chamber. To move through the seas the animal releases gas into its previous homes (chambers) and that adds buoyancy that makes navigation possible. The building of the next chamber never ceases until the animal dies. These animals would seem to have perfected the balance between what has been and what will be.
Now, here's the rub for me...this story speaks to me about the reign of God. It would seem to me that like the nautilus, nothing, neither in our lives nor anything else in the reign of God is wasted. The "old chambers" of our lives are being used by God for buoyancy and navigation. Our old ways of being are not just left behind, but rather, are simply the "old shell" which God uses in our growth. Our whole lives are redeemed, and nothing is wasted in the reign of God. Good news, indeed.
Yours for the reign of God,
Ron
The Chambered Nautilus
The nautilus is a living fossil whose close relatives date back hundreds of millions of years into geologic history. There are a few things we know about the life of the nautilus that invite us to think about our own lives. These animals live of course in their shell, but unlike other shelled sea animals they only live in a portion of the shell--one chamber at a time. The next chamber is constantly under construction. Each previous chamber is necessary for the animal to "swim" through the currents of the sea. Amazingly, each chamber is seven percent bigger than the chamber before it. When the animal grows the seven percent, it moves into the next chamber and starts preparing for the next move by building still another chamber. To move through the seas the animal releases gas into its previous homes (chambers) and that adds buoyancy that makes navigation possible. The building of the next chamber never ceases until the animal dies. These animals would seem to have perfected the balance between what has been and what will be.
Now, here's the rub for me...this story speaks to me about the reign of God. It would seem to me that like the nautilus, nothing, neither in our lives nor anything else in the reign of God is wasted. The "old chambers" of our lives are being used by God for buoyancy and navigation. Our old ways of being are not just left behind, but rather, are simply the "old shell" which God uses in our growth. Our whole lives are redeemed, and nothing is wasted in the reign of God. Good news, indeed.
Yours for the reign of God,
Ron
It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying the Kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying the Kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
Pastors working according to the Word restore balance in the congregation.
Where there is too much, they reduce.
Where there is too little, they add.
Their people are neither overly busy, nor lazy and idle.
They resist the temptation to control to protect their position.
They do not need to take credit, for they already have all they need.
They do not need to succeed, for they are perfectly themselves already.
Where there is too much, they reduce.
Where there is too little, they add.
Their people are neither overly busy, nor lazy and idle.
They resist the temptation to control to protect their position.
They do not need to take credit, for they already have all they need.
They do not need to succeed, for they are perfectly themselves already.
Sometimes, like an Andy Goldsworthy assemblage, you take us to the very edge of our collapse. And when it happens, and the ice is eaten away by its own melting, and wind takes the straws, there You are, ready to rebuild with endless patience.
You splint the cracked bones, tether the shaky spirits. Even as it crumples You plan the rebuilding of the body, readying it for new resilience, a shape that brings You pleasure, lets You sit back, exuberant, "That's it. Hold it right there! Breathe."
-By Luci Shaw
You splint the cracked bones, tether the shaky spirits. Even as it crumples You plan the rebuilding of the body, readying it for new resilience, a shape that brings You pleasure, lets You sit back, exuberant, "That's it. Hold it right there! Breathe."
-By Luci Shaw
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice--though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible.
It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do--determined to save the only life you could save.
--From New and Selected Poems, Volume One by Mary Oliver
It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do--determined to save the only life you could save.
--From New and Selected Poems, Volume One by Mary Oliver
Bless to me, O God,
The earth beneath my foot,
Bless to me, O God,
The path whereon I go;
Bless to me, O God,
The thing of my desire;
Thou Evermore of evermore,
Bless Thou to me my rest.
Bless to me the thing
Whereon is set my mind,
Bless to me the thing
Whereon is set my love;
Bless to me the thing
Whereon is set my hope;
O Thou King of kings,
Bless Thou to me mine eye!
(From The Celtic Vision, Esther de Wall, ed.)
The earth beneath my foot,
Bless to me, O God,
The path whereon I go;
Bless to me, O God,
The thing of my desire;
Thou Evermore of evermore,
Bless Thou to me my rest.
Bless to me the thing
Whereon is set my mind,
Bless to me the thing
Whereon is set my love;
Bless to me the thing
Whereon is set my hope;
O Thou King of kings,
Bless Thou to me mine eye!
(From The Celtic Vision, Esther de Wall, ed.)
Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace...There are some things I would be willing to bet maybe even my life on. That life is grace, for instance--the givenness of it, the fathomlessness of it, the endless possibilities of its becoming transparent to something extraordinary beyond itself. That--as I picked up somewhere in Jung and whittled into the ash stick I use for tramping around through the woods sometimes--vocatus atque non vocatus Deus aderit, which I take to mean that in the long run, whether you call on him or don't call on him, God will be present with you. That if we really had our eyes open, we would see that all moments are key moments."
(From Now and Then by Fredrick Buechner).
Questions:
(From Now and Then by Fredrick Buechner).
Questions:
- What in your life especially wants listening to this day?
- Where on your journey is grace being encountered?
- What is need to help you travel with "eyes open" aware of God's presence?