called living

And yet, within our ordinary lives, we hold an extraordinary treasure. We have become part of God’s life, God’s story, God’s work in the world. This weight of glory cannot be taken lightly. We each have a role to play, as individuals and as a community. We are part of a new kingdom, under the lordship of Christ, and we are to pray and work for God’s will to be done on earth as in heaven.

We have each been given gifts with which to fulfill our roles. The trick is knowing what they are and how God wants us to use them. There is no self-help book or personality test that can fully reveal your role in the kingdom. This understanding comes through prayer, contemplation, practice and community. This understanding comes through the supernatural wisdom of the Spirit, wisdom which works itself out day to day as we listen to His voice.

Sometimes we can get caught up in “calling anxiety.” (Guilty as charged.) We wonder what our purpose is, whether we’re fulfilling it, whether we’re doing enough. We compare ourselves to our role models, our peers, constantly measuring ourselves by an artificial standard. We define ourselves by all kinds of standards of “success,” often garnered uncritically from pop-culture, or even pop-Christian culture. We may be losing the discipline of spiritual discernment, especially in the context of a Christian community. And so we worry and wonder, burning spiritual and emotional energy, feeling lost and ineffective.

The answer is less an answer than a process. We must be willing to enter an ongoing conversation with ourselves and the Spirit. We must be willing to take an honest look at the gifts, abilities and inclinations God has given us – including our limitations. When we submit ourselves to the Spirit, we open ourselves up to His limitless creativity. He is the one that fits our roles to our circumstances, that opens doors to new possibilities, that inspires us with new ideas. And we do not work alone. God places us in particular communities where He fits us to accomplish more together, where He gives a common vision. We must learn to listen to His voice together. What is the Spirit saying to you? What is the Spirit saying to the church?

There is no need to worry. Listen, trust, obey. It’s going to look different for everybody.

The fun thing about this is that there are no set rules. Our passions are as varied as our personalities, and God loves to ignite them with his purposes. God is a limitless being, and the possibilities are endless.

So we set out to work in the Father’s kingdom, with the Spirit alongside, living out our Lord’s prayer. It is only in this Trinitarian dynamic that we live fully.


~lg

believe in life

I have a feeling motherhood will produce an ontological change in me.

There are certain things I must believe going into this.


I have to believe in the project of life, in its goodness, its purpose, before I can be entrusted to shape one.
I have to believe that the little acts of love and care matter as much as the grandiose academic and ministerial achievements of my peers.
I have to believe that somehow being part of God's creative and nurturing process is a worthy calling in and of itself, because God loves to create life, loves to love the ones He creates, longs to embrace them and thereby transform them into loving, creative, joyful, thankful marvelous individuals.
I have to believe that I can either invite or reject God's kingdom, Christ's lordship, in my own home and relationships, in the way we raise our children.
I have to believe God loves me as much when I'm changing diapers as when I'm preparing Bible studies, and that diapers are as much his agent of transformation as theological debates.
I have to believe the way we live matters, even when that way seems tedious, or monotonous, or tiring.
I have to believe God is active in the sphere of housework, cooking, playing, talking.
I have to believe he is a present at our table, as at the altar, upon my hearth and in my garden, in observing the days and seasons.
I have to believe life is a gift worth celebrating in small ways through small joys, worth living simply because it is from God, worth living well because it is being renewed in a glorious image.
I have to believe the Spirit speaks and directs me as a mother as much as any minister, that His breath blows in my own backyard.
I have to believe in life.

~lg

Promise of Spring

A poem by Kate McIlhagga of the Iona Community

Pale winter sun,
flooding the earth
with your light,
gilding the bare trees
with your touch.
Your eyes
have seen
the glory
of the Lord.

Low white candles of hope
palely gleaming in the dark earth,
your advent heralds
the promise of Spring;
your green hearts
speak of God’s renewing love.

Son of God, show us the way.
Light our path.
Lead us
through this Lenten desert
to Easter with you
beyond the pain
of loss and fear.
Lead us in new ways
of trusting service.


~

Father of Lights

Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.
James 1:17

This little verse does much to instruct our way of viewing the world and life as we know it. Any misery, any death that we experience in this life does not originate in God. It originates in our willful turning, our shady attempts at self-preservation – in short, our sin – which have so permeated earthly existence. The darkness of our rebellion is lurking around every corner. Adam’s shadow falls long in our fields. Do not be mistaken; God has not brought this.

God is the originator of good, grace-full giving, of every perfection placed into our hands. Where the light shines, it is His . . . it is Him. He cannot be other than Goodness; He cannot be other than Light. There is no shadow of turning with Thee. And He continues to share His brightness with us – in the steady sunrise, in shared laughter, in the majesty of the soaring eagle, in the miracle of birth, in the rainbow that drips with liquid life. He pours His faithful Light into us, throwing open the shutters over our souls so that it may even shine out of us.

We do not live in sunlight at every moment. There is a day yet to come when darkness will be extinguished forever. But we are signs and flares in the sky that new creation has begun, that Goodness and Love are the true realities.

With this in mind, we welcome every good thing as a beam of our Father’s nature. And life is full of good and perfect things. Green grass, snowy nights, evening fires, morning glories. They are not mundane. They are not meaningless. They are opportunities to recognize the Author and Perfector of life, to stretch out our arms to a steady heaven in childlike thanksgiving. He is here in our daily rhythms, our rising and lying down, our work and play, our families and friends. Open your eyes to the Father of Lights.

~lg

life is love

At its core, life has to do with love.

The creative love of God, which fashioned us out of dust and gave us breath. The redemptive love of God, which plunged into our icy depths and brought us up from the grave. The transformative love of God, which fashions us into a new image.

Through Christ we are joined to the life of God, and God is love.

Love is our ultimate good. To love God with all that we are, this is the sunnum bonum of our existence. To love those God has placed around us, this is the natural extension of our first love.

Love is the highest virtue, the basis from which all good things flow. It is poured into our hearts from above, a supernatural infusion of the Spirit, the fertile ground for godly fruit. Without love we are nothing.

Love is concrete, embodied. It must take form at our kitchen tables, in our families. We cannot choose those whom we love, nor do we love “everybody” in some vague general feeling of goodwill. We must love the child in our arms, the neighbour next door, the person in the pew in front of us, the coworker who talks behind our backs.

As we love, we are transformed and we become agents of transformation. As we live in love, we live God’s way. God’s way lives among us.

~lg

why life?

As a baby bumbles around my belly, I am left to wonder . . .

Why has God given us life? Why has he asked us to be fruitful and multiply? What is the point of our life on earth?

His original intent, now shrouded by a veil of sin, lies in the early chapters of our human history. Created in his image, created to be blessed. Created to bring more life into the world, to fill the world, to subdue and have dominion over it. Created to till and tend the earth, to continue the cultivation of God’s own garden. Created to recognize breath and food and water as his gifts, to receive the earth’s nourishment with thanksgiving. Created to explore and name the world around us. Created as male and female, to be together, to help each other. Created to converse with the Creator, to choose to trust and obey. Created without shame.

God created a good and beautiful world, breathing into us good and beautiful life. And then he endowed us with the ability to create, to share in his image and work. We tend and tame the natural life placed around us. We create more human life. God must love life, the abundant diversity of living and growing things. He passes this love to us, this capacity, this gift. In a sense, our purpose is simply to live, to breathe. And we are to do it together.

But, of course, things have become far more complicated. We may never know the sort of life our primal parents may have lived had the serpent’s temptation been disregarded. What would God’s ideal family and society have looked like in the peace of the eternal garden? We are left to pick up the pieces of a shattered world, a tattered image.

But we have not been left alone. The ultimate question – why life at all? – is and must now be answered in Christ. He came to show us the way. Just as we look at Adam to define our origins and original purpose, as well as the consequences of turning away from our Creator, we look at Christ as the Second Adam to define what our new life and renewed image looks like. In Christ we are not simply going back to Eden. He is not only a remedy; in Him life takes on a new dynamic. The incarnation really has changed everything. Our Edenic mandate is still valid, but it is also elevated. We are moving forward as members of a new creation, a new covenant, a new purpose, all in Christ.

So as I think of becoming a mother, of sharing somehow in God’s creative and nurturing work, I wonder how my life will change. I wonder how my purpose as a human in Christ will be fulfilled in this new role. I wonder what God’s intent for my child, my family, my home is. When life is “reduced” to caring for another tiny image bearer, what will matter most? When I look into the eyes of my new son or daughter, what will I see? How will I see God?

~lg

The God of Zephaniah

Some of God’s words are not pleasant to read. Zephaniah opens with a deluge of His fiery wrath against man and beast alike. In what can seem a heartless tirade, I remind myself to pause and think – why is He so angry? Who is this God?

Chapter One. God is angry because the spiritual leaders have idolatrous hearts, leading the people astray. He is angry because they are confusing the Creator with the created. The people’s loyalties are divided, turning worship into a pack of hypocritical lies and filling the temple with violence and deceit. They have neither sought Yahweh, nor inquired of him. And then, an interesting judgment – they are stagnant in spirit. In their hearts they say, “The LORD will not do good or evil.” He no longer has any bearing on their reality. And so God will judge his people.

Chapter Two. God’s anger is also directed at Judah’s enemies. For all their idolatry, Judah is still his people, and he rises to their defense. He is angry at the arrogance of the nations. They do not know God has allowed them to taunt and terrorize Judah. They sit securely in their cities, exultant in what is to a be short lived victory. In their hearts they say, “I am, and there is no one besides me.” And so God will prove himself terrifying, starving their gods until they recognize just who they are dealing with.

And yet a glimmer of hope shines through the lines of fury, hope for both Judah and the nations. To Judah he promises a remnant, safety in the caves of the coast, a restored fortune. To the nations he holds out a promise for the humble – seek the LORD, seek righteousness, seek humility, and God will provide a hiding place from his anger.

Chapter Three. God’s heart is revealed in His broken, urgent oracle. What does he desire? Heed my voice, accept my instruction, trust in me, draw near to me. Princes, judges, prophets, priests – all propagate idolatry and injustice. But the LORD will bring His justice to light in the morning, exposing shame. Just wait. God will rise up as Judge. He will assemble nations and kingdoms and pass out a cup of burning indignation. All the earth will be devoured by the fire of his zeal.

All the earth? Devoured by fire? What kind of God is this?
But his zeal is the full power of his jealous love. This devouring is not the end.

“For then I will give to the people purified lips,
That all of them may call on the name of the LORD,
To serve Him shoulder to shoulder.”

Both shame and pride will disappear in the flame. In their place, a humble and purified remnant, not left to grovel, but to rejoice without fear. Yahweh your King is in your midst; Yahweh your God is in your midst. His anger turns to a song of joy, sung over his people. The song can be heard not only in Judah and Israel, but in the ears of all those who seek him. In the safety of home, his joyful shouts mellow into a lullaby of quieting love. This is your God.


And so at the end of the book, I am left to wonder - what it is that I say in my heart about God? The words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart cannot please him without his purification. Even the ability to call on his name is a gift, wrought of fiery love. I will trust and draw near to the God of Zephaniah.

~lg

winter sunset

Breathing in a winter sunset
Filling up my lungs with light
The world has stopped for half an instant
Showing off to my delight

Stilled, the trees repose in splendor
Laid against a pale blue sky
Clouds caressed with rosy fingers
Melt into an orb of fire

A dozen shades of white are playing
Hide and seek through field and glen
Crisp and clean, the snow a canvas
For the thoughts of God to men

Breathing in the crystal silence
Just before the nightshades fall
My heart has stopped for half an instant
Hushed to hear the winter’s call


~lg

God welcomes you...

In keeping with the ecumenical spirit, follow this link for a reading from the Iona Community in Scotland. A good reminder that God's arms are always opened wide to welcome us.

~lg

Week of Prayer for Christian Unity

Tonight we attended an ecumenical service for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. It was held at St. Dunstan's Basilica in Charlottetown, a beautiful Roman Catholic Church. Church unity is very much on my heart, and so I always love opportunities to gather and worship and pray with people from other churches.

It's been 100 years since the Edinburgh Conference in 1910, and this year's theme was chosen by Scotland: "You are witnesses of these things" from Luke 24. (For more information, see the World Council of Churches website.) Our very own Pastor Phil Taylor from Calvary Church presented the message. He spoke about what kind of witnesses we need to be. He said our witness must be based in personal experience with Jesus, must flow out of our character and lives, must be current and relevant, and must be united.

What struck me most during the service was the closing prayer of commitment, and I wanted to share it here.

"Take us from where we are, to where you want us to be;
make us not merely guardians of a heritage,
but living signs of your coming Kingdom;
fire us with passion for justice and peace between all people;
fill us with that faith, hope and love which embody the Gospel;
and through the power of the Holy Spirit make us one.
That the world may believe, that your name may be enthroned in our nation,
that your church may more effectively be your body,
we commit ourselves to love you, serve you,
and follow you as pilgrims not strangers."

(ACTS commitment. Taken from the Inaugural Service of
Action of Churches Together in Scotland)


~lg

Lady Wisdom's Invitation

Meet me at the birth of the world, among the seven pillars of an ancient house. Enter through a door of holy trembling, beneath the verdant tree. The table is set.

~lg

Book List 2009

Here it is, a list of the books I got around to reading in 2009:

The Shack - William Paul Young
The Selected Journals of L.M. Montgomery, Vol. IV
A Tangled Web - L.M. Montgomery
Heaven's Calling - Leanne Payne
Listening Prayer - Leanne Payne
The Book of Negroes - Lawrence Hill
Speak - Laurie Halse Anderson
The Selected Journals of L.M. Montgomery, Vol. V
The Scarlet Thread - Francine Rivers
Lucy Maud Montgomery: The Gift of Wings - Mary Henley Rubio
The Practice of the Presence of God - Brother Lawrence
The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins
Catching Fire - Suzanne Collins
Mrs. Mike - Benedict & Nancy Freedman
Evangeline - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Secret Garden* - Frances Hodgson Burnett
Late Nights on Air - Elizabeth Hay
After Many Days - L.M. Montgomery
No Great Mischief - Alistair Macleod
Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Her Fearful Symmetry - Audrey Niffenegger
Surprised by Hope - N.T. Wright
A Highland Christmas - M.C. Beaton
Anne of Green Gables* - L.M. Montgomery
Advent Readings from Iona


* books I re-read for fun

25 in all. Of course, there were many others I started and never finished, or have started and mean to finish in 2010! I tried to read more fiction this year, simply because I haven't read it in a long time. My theology count is a little low (recovery from MTS mode?), but there are many theological books I've skipped around in. Maybe I'll make a theological hopscotch list later.

~lg

kyrie eleison

I prayed, Lord have mercy.

And mercy came in common ways.

It came in a brand new pair of binoculars, opened before Christmas and remembered for the trip. It came in the winter stillness of tiny Ajax Forest Park. It came in tracking a grey squirrel to its nest. It came in the discovery of a white breasted nuthatch, high in a tree. It came in hearing "Bring a Torch Jeanette Isabella" by the UBC Singers on CBC radio.

It came in a well-worn hymnbook, and in the soaring harmonies of "O Holy Night." It came in half an hour's pleasant conversation with family. It came in a gentle snowfall on the first day of the year. It came in a plain white envelope, in a perfect pot of gravy, in the dark mesmerizing fury of a winter storm.

God moves in merciful ways, half hidden in the snow, but nonetheless accessible to listening ears, open eyes. His ways are higher. Yet he leaves a trail through the park for us to follow, graceful footprints in the snow.


~lg

Sing Till Sundown

~Eileen Spinelli

Sing till sundown, hum your joy
dress in starlight, girl and boy.
Man and woman climb the hill,
warmed beyond December's chill,
reeling, clapping, touch the air,
is that fragrant music there?
Come the glory, gone the gloom:
in a wondrous huddled room.
Christ the Word we've longed to know
calls us dancing through the snow.

Gladness deepens into grace,
weaves its light on every face.
Let us wake the sleeping earth,
celebrate the sweetest birth,
pierce the night with festive cry,
bloom in colours of the sky.
Bring the flute, the tambourine,
wave the branch of evergreen.
Lost we were a grief ago,
now we're dancing through the snow.

~

Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble