Because We Like Summer, and Food is Nice, Too

Summer Spinach Mozzarella Penne

Thomas à Kempis Knows about the Kind of Week I'm Having

"WE SHOULD enjoy much peace if we did not concern ourselves with what others say and do, for these are no concern of ours. How can a man who meddles in affairs not his own, who seeks strange distractions, and who is little or seldom inwardly recollected, live long in peace?

Blessed are the simple of heart for they shall enjoy peace in abundance. Why were some of the saints so perfect and so given to contemplation? Because they tried to mortify entirely in themselves all earthly desires, and thus they were able to attach themselves to God with all their heart and freely to concentrate their innermost thoughts. "

Imitation of Christ

The Twelfth Chapter

The Value of Adversity

"IT IS good for us to have trials and troubles at times, for they often remind us that we are on probation and ought not to hope in any worldly thing. It is good for us sometimes to suffer contradiction, to be misjudged by men even though we do well and mean well. These things help us to be humble and shield us from vainglory. When to all outward appearances men give us no credit, when they do not think well of us, then we are more inclined to seek God Who sees our hearts. Therefore, a man ought to root himself so firmly in God that he will not need the consolations of men.

"When a man of good will is afflicted, tempted, and tormented by evil thoughts, he realizes clearly that his greatest need is God, without Whom he can do no good. Saddened by his miseries and sufferings, he laments and prays. He wearies of living longer and wishes for death that he might be dissolved and be with Christ. Then he understands fully that perfect security and complete peace cannot be found on earth."

Amen and Amen.

Literacy, Numeracy, and The Knowledge of God

I'm getting ready to transition from my summer job at a tutoring center for students with learning disabilities to my 10-months-of-the year-job as a teacher's assistant at a school for kids with learning disabilities. Yea, verily, I am an educator.
Because of this, I thought it time to review my educational philosophy and goals for the next school year.

Here they are, in perhaps, no particular order:

Goals for 2012-2013

• Teach explicitly by modeling and thinking aloud. Help students generate their own questions.
• Put into practice the words of Mother Theresa's daily prayer. Pray this prayer daily. http://aproposadelaide.blogspot.com/2012/05/mother-teresas-daily-prayer-its.html
• Continue to use effective strategies to meet the needs of all students while adding others to my "instructional toolbox".
•  Teach according to the principles of distributive review and practice.
• Learn more about the principles and practices of behavior management.
• Learn more about the principles of assessment, familiarize myself with more assessments, learn how to read the scores.
• Remember that literacy, and all types of learning, occurs on a continuum, and that every day each of my students is moving up and down this ladder.
• Enjoy making small talk with parents.
• Teach according to the principles learned in my college Philosophy of Ed. class:  

Anthropology

man and his telos

teaching and learning

Theology

revelation, transformation, and ascent

theological theology

Philosophy

truth and knowledge

I'm too tired to write out detailed information about each of these categories, but once I wrote a paper about it, which you can read if you truly want to know more. 

Tea Time in the Interior Castle

Sometimes it's hard to write. I've been meaning to come back to this stupid blog, again and again, with book reviews or spiritual musings, but it's hard. The hardest thing about living life--real, deep, pure life--is stopping still--standing still--long enough to do so. I know that if I don't write I'll die, I know that for me writing is a form of prayer.

Sometimes life is difficult. Sometimes just doing the bare minimum takes all of my strength. What do I have to say tonight? I'm not sure I know. I've been mulling over the will of God, thinking about what it means to live as God means me to live. Sometimes, it seems simple. Sometimes, I know what I'm called to do. Sometimes, I can tell somehow that God is calling me, leading me deeper into him, and that deep inside his love I will be moved to live a wild and beautiful life.

O, how I want to be pulled into the deep, deep love of God! It's much easier, much safer, much more comfortable to live in the shallows--but I can't stay here forever, because I'll die of thirst. Today I read George Mueller's words about knowing God, about how increasing in the knowledge of God is synonymous with increasing in personal happiness. To the degree that I know God I am happy. To the degree that I doubt God, I am misery personified.

I want to know God. I want to live with him in his life and die with him in his death. But sometimes this feels impossible.

Last week, as I was contemplating life, happiness, and the love of God with a dear friend, she told me that I needed to get my act together because I was supposed to be her "spiritual and wise" friend. I know that I'm supposed to be spiritual and wise. I also know that I rarely live up to this calling. It's hard to live a life of being.

I ought to live deeply. My soul was made for depth, and not breadth, stillness, and not movement. I should dwell inside the sonnet, I should hear the breathy wailing of the wind, I should see every star. My heart would keep well in a cloister.

I'm sitting here, imbibing honeydew green tea and listening to music, because, tonight, this is the closest I can bring myself to stillness, to real life.

As I look around my bedroom, I see the proof, the evidence, of who God is calling me to be. Quotations from St. Julian of Norwich, Emily Dickinson, Brennan Manning, Rumi, Mahmoud Darwish, the Psalms, Sadhu Sundar Singh, and many others line my walls. Icon valentines of St. Brigid of Ireland and Mary the Mother of God are on my mantel. A watercolor portrait of my own face, encompassed by golden halo and wings of inspiration, hangs above a bookshelf.

Looking at all of these things--congregation of word & image, delicate, brightly bound, palm-sized volumes of The Imitation of Christ and The Book of Common Prayer--I see clearly that I am meant to live the life of a contemplative. God, help me to live this life. Imbued with your spirit, sensitive to your voice, obedient and faithful, keep me aware of mystery and beauty wherever it exists. Keep me close to Love, where you are, on the other side of silence.

"Heaven-Haven"

“I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.
And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.”

The Fullness of Absence

What is life, but to be near you?  

If God is perfectly happy, then he must act in ways which tend to his, and our own, happiness. This brings me to the subject of the Ascension. During Advent, or any other time of the year when the church reflects on the incarnation of Christ, we dwell on the wonder of his humanity. Jesus had ears, and he ate fish, and he took walks with his friends, and he cried, and he laughed. And he touched the sick and blessed them. After such pondering, we sing a hymn and go home. But this is just what frustrates me. If the wonder of God-With-Us moves us to worship, how are we to feel about God-With-Us going back to God, leaving us here all alone?

I'll tell you how it makes me feel. It makes me feel lonely, and sad. Angry, too. Sometimes, it seems that it would be best if Jesus could come over for tea, or sit next to me in church, or be one of my co-workers, or walk with me to the library. He can't though, because he's gone. His physical presence, the thing we celebrate so often--the catalyst of our redemption--is absent. That is an ache.

And it aches. I want him to come back, because I'm lonely without him.

So, I struggle with God's physical absence. God-With-Us isn't (physically) with us anymore. How can there be good in this? So much of my struggle is walking in the reality of the life of God. It's easy to forget that God is who he is (Ever-Present, Faithful, Loving, True, Happy, Real) when he doesn't drop by for dinner.

There are a few things I've been reading lately that have helped immensely with this angst:

• One, this blog post: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/scriptorium/2012/05/the-ascension-christs-kind-absence/
• Two, the gospel of John, chapters 14-17
• Three, thinking about Pentecost and the Ascension
• Four, thinking about the Trinity's relationship to Itself, made clearer to me by re-reading bits of The Deep Things of God.

Christ said that it would be BETTER for us if he went away, because the Holy Spirit is just that good. He said that though he, our Tender Pioneer, was leaving us, he was sending The Holy Spirit to be our Friend in his place.

What's more, Christ's primary allegiance is to the Father. Jesus went back to God, his Father, and he sat down beside God in the place of honor. He deserved to go back to God: think of all he endured. It was owed to him.  I forget to ask myself about what Jesus is doing at the right hand of the Father. I'm so concerned about what he isn't doing here, that I forget Christ might have any work to do in heaven. I also forget that it might interest the second person of the Trinity to pick up all his former glory and spend time with his Dad. What would God be doing if we, if all of creation, were out of the picture? God is eternal, but what does he spend most of his time doing? Is that a stupid question? I think the answer is that God needs to spend time with himself. His own Triune priorities come first. Since he is the most Real, Important, and Eternal being, his main goal is to glorify himself, without creation he would still have plenty to do, basking in the light of his own glory. And this is as it should be. But still, creation does exist: up in heaven he also intercedes for us, prepares a place for us, and loves us. 

And so Jesus left.
But the disciples' response was that of worship, they didn't sit around and cry. They rejoiced and they waited. Hear this:

"You're the first to hear and see it. You're the witnesses. What comes next is very important: I am sending what my Father promised to you, so stay here in the city until he arrives, until you're equipped with power from on high." He then led them out of the city over to Bethany. Raising his hands he blessed them, and while blessing them, took his leave, being carried up to heaven.And they were on their knees, worshiping him. They returned to Jerusalem bursting with joy.They spent all their time in the Temple praising God. Yes.

Pentecost (which was a really big deal) brought with it a sense of universal presence: God reaching out to the ends of the earth, drawing all peoples toward himself. Do you hear that? Pentecost--the presence of the Holy Spirit and the absence of Christ--made God available to everyone.  . .not just in Nazareth, not just two thousand years ago. . .but even in our own time. . .even to the ends of the earth. The Friend brought, and continues to bring, presence, truth and fullness.
  There are some practical realities to be considered here as well. One, Jesus didn't speak English. Would we be able to communicate if he were still here? Two, Jesus lived in Israel, but I live in America. Plane tickets are expensive. Three, if Jesus were still on earth, why do I think he'd have time to hang out with me when every other Jesus-follower & Jesus-hater would be clamoring for his attention? I mean, really. Who says I'd be one of the disciples in Jesus' inner circle? Plus, he'd be so old. He couldn't die, since death has no authority over him, but what would it be like for Jesus to walk around, 2,000 years old? Clearly this speculation is ludicrous. I'm glad of it. It's good that he went away. It's best.   So, it aches. But it is better so. Ascension is followed by Pentecost. And Pentecost is a big deal. "You Galileans! - why do you just stand here looking up at an empty sky?"
  "You've heard me tell you, 'I'm going away, and I'm coming back.' If you loved me, you would be glad that I'm on my way to the Father because the Father is the goal and purpose of my life."   Not as I will, but as You will. 

How Many Smilies?