Monthly Archives: September 2015

Reading Kirk Byron-Jones

Vocation,

Kirk Byron-Jones’ book Fulfilled is worth a read from the first sentence on.  There’s something about his lavish joy in language that entrances the heart. I’ve loved his preaching, and still think he was one of the best keynote speakers I’ve ever heardFulfilled at our annual Synod Assembly some years ago, here in New England. Fulfilled brings back the sound of his voice, and his rich wisdom.  I love reading his works on ministry and preaching because he names the hollow places, the times of emptiness and discouragement, the fragility of relationships, the strain of work that continually surprises and makes demands.  Even though one consents to all the pushes and pulls of ministry, nevertheless, one gets worn out. Byron-Jones names this fatigue and seeks to minister to it.  I have yet to read a book of his without coming away feeling strengthened and encouraged for the work I do.

Fulfilled begins with three scripture passages that speak of God’s promise to pour out water on those of us who are thirsty, water that becomes in us a well of life: Isaiah 12:3; Isaiah 44:3; and John 4:14.  He writes “Though water is present in all three scriptures, it is the lavish nature of the water that captures my heart.” Lavish. Like him. Then, he goes on to say something that I want to claim for myself, too: “I no longer can tolerate the disconnect between the over-flowing spiritual sustenance named in these texts and the sense of barely making it in ministry.”  It’s a good sentence to claim when dry times come upon us. In Fulfilled, Byron-Jones imagines there are other ways of “living and leading from spiritual and emotional abundance as opposed to scarcity, to live and lead on “Full” as a way of life, as opposed to “Empty” as a way of life.” If I were in his congregation, and heard that sentence, I would say, “amen.” Here’s the link. It’s worth it. http://www.amazon.com/Fulfilled-Living-Leading-Unusual-Wisdom/dp/142675793X

Pondering the mountain

Listening

climbing the mountain

Yesterday, I had the good fortune to spend time at a monastery in Connecticut. It was a retreat for a church council who have a kind of mountain in front of them. Like many churches in New England they struggle with issues involving older buildings, shrinking towns, less young people, the stony nature of mission fields in our region. But something extraordinary happened in our time together. We told stories of times our needs were met in our faith community. They became stories of times we were met by God in community, in worship, in service. In the simple act of listening, and then sharing what we heard, the mountain became something less fearful, something more inviting, something to be curious about. And possibly something, also, that we could actually climb, even the freedom to decide, maybe we don’t want to climb this particular mountain.

What struck me was the longing in the group to spend more time in prayer and quiet, to focus on worship, and let go of the busy-ness they were feeling, spiritual hunger for time with God. By the end of the session, we were talking about what we could let go of, so that we would be freer to spend time listening to God, to each other, and to have more sabbath time. In terms of climbing mountains, it was a moment where we put down our packs, and took out the things that we didn’t need.

I spent some time this summer in the mountains, myself, on both sides of the country: the White Mountains, and the upper end of the Appalachians in Maine, driving through them, alas, not hiking; and also in California along the coastal ranges. I was astonished at how many ways human beings and animals had found to make paths up them and through them, often following river beds, but sometimes you could tell the path was made by sheer doggedness. One morning, on the top of a ridge, in California, I counted at least six different footpaths, all leading up and over, traversing ravines, hummocks, knots of woods. The same was true in the mountains here at home, many trails, many possibilities, easier climbs, harder climbs, climbs along rivers, climbs across rock faces.

The mountain is still a mountain. There are many ways through.