This ... is going to be interesting, if nothing else.
I have been here in Bend, Oregon, for less than a week, and I am already so psyched about this summer. Most of you already know that I'm here to do a "solitude" internship with Antioch Church (and most of you responded one of two ways: "... What is that?" or "That's an internship?"), and I can tell you, the closer I get, the more it seems like the most perfect, extraordinary gift God could give me for this period of time.
Tomorrow, I embark on this journey in earnest. The last few days have been all about arrival of all the interns (only three of us are doing the solitude one), orientation, meeting people, et cetera. It's been amazing just getting here; I took the train from Chicago to Portland, all 45 hours of it, and it was the best fun travelling I think I've ever had. I am definitely going to go by train whenever circumstances allow.
This is not going to be a particularly interesting post, I don't think. Just explaining what's going on and the context of the posts for the next few months, so sorry about that. Nothing terribly deep yet, although there's an (mostly unrelated) epiphany about Buttercup (from The Princess Bride) which I had recently which is pretty exciting, and intended to get around to jotting down here. So there's that.
First, then, in the interests of good housekeeping, to answer your questions: a solitude internship is where the intern clears their deck and enters a time of doing nothing but waiting on God. It's not 24/7; the ballpark amount of time we've been given per week is 30-40 hours. The rest of the time we can hang out with people, do whatever. However, we've been given explicit permission to say "no" to any and every ministry need which crosses our radar; the first thing the guy who's running it asked of us was to agree, all together, not to feel guilty about doing that. The only requirements are a weekly meeting to discuss and debrief together for an hour, and attending church on Sunday.
We'll be reading and discussing two books: Reaching Out, by Henri J. M. Nouwen, and The Way of the Pilgrim (by an unknown nineteenth-century peasant). We'll be reading, journalling, praying, reflecting, hiking, drinking coffee, whatever – being still and waiting to hear what God wants to say and where he wants to lead. It's a time of stripping life down to stillness, in order to determine what is necessary busyness, and what is busyness to be busy. It is disconnecting identity and value from role, service, ministry, ability, any of those things. Ultimately leading to a healthier place to minister from.
It's the first time the church has attempted anything like this kind of internship, so we're the beta version, which I love because it means the whole thing is basically unmapped and waiting to be discovered as an internship structure. Matt, who's running it, deliberately took a whole year of solitude, and is passionate about its benefits. Just listening to him talk about it is restful. To have the heart-knowledge of this kind of discipline is a blessing I can't begin to fathom yet – although hopefully I will soon enough!
And: yes. It's an internship. It's the most amazing one I can conceive of, and yes, I'm getting credit for it, because grad school is awesome that way.
So far, so good. Meeting the other 20-odd interns, and the various people involved in all the internship stuff that's going on here, has been really encouraging, and has also helped clarify my understanding of this time as I explain it over and over to people. It's fun when one of those beautiful turns-of-phrase just tumbles, unanticipated, out of your mouth. One of the more revealling, to me, was when someone asked how I knew that this was what I was supposed to do, and I said something to the effect that I don't really plan this stuff ahead, or make goals, or anything – not even with my move to Chicago. God just opens up a me-shaped hole in space and time, and I step into it. It's really not any more complicated than that.
Of course, I guess this method of guidance requires some basic idea of what shape me-shape is. I have a decent idea; I know, however, that after this time of solitude I will have a much better one. The idea of spending an entire summer getting to know God better, and also learning more how he's shaped me and why, is just ... stunning.
Anyway. Buttercup.
So a little while ago I watched The Princess Bride with some friends at college (as you do), for the first time in years, probably. And, being the resourceful, self-sufficient, self-respecting young women that we are, we were doing the typical bemoaning of Buttercup's essential uselessness in pretty much every way. I mean, really. She's kind of dim, and helpless, and although she's not actually ever whiny, you kind of write her off. And why on earth does Westley love her? The most beautiful woman on earth? That's it? Talk about shallow. We want true love to be a meeting of true equals, right? Especially in our enlightened day and age.
So we were watching this, and I was thinking about the ways Goldman was playing with concepts of fantasy in it all, when the role and value of Buttercup hit me in a whole new way. I mean, the whole point of Buttercup being useless at rescuing herself in any way (literally – everytime she tries, she either is completely ineffectual, or she makes things worse), is to reveal the hero that Westley is. Buttercup needs rescuing so that Westley can rescue her. It's that simple.
By the climax of the movie – in the chapel – she has learned what her role is, and she does it magnificently: she keeps the faith that Westley will rescue her. And I got that. That's a courageous role. I had begun to grudgingly give credit where credit's due, to even appreciate the magnetism and beauty of that, and to defend her to those I watched it with.
Which is when it hit: Buttercup is a brilliant picture of the Church. (I'm sure that this is not what Goldman had in mind, but a good story always captures a truth.) Our job is not to save ourselves, nor are we in any way equipped to do so. We only mess it up, and fail, when we try. Our role is to reveal and glorify the one who loves us truly, who goes to every length to save us. Our role is to be rescued, to show the character and love of the rescuer. Our role is to keep the faith, to look boldly in the face of sin, persecution, opposition, everything arrayed against us, and say, "My Jesus will save me." To trust his promise that he will always come for us, that his love is true, that he is able to rescue us.
Mind you, this was not "blind" faith. Buttercup's faith was based entirely on knowing Westley; seeing what he had done, what he was willing to do, meant that she knew she could depend on his love and his promises. It was informed faith, faith based on a relationship. Faith, like love, requires knowing its object. The more knowledge grows, the more love and faith grows, if it's warranted. The way in which it was "blind" – based on knowledge ("hope", in the biblical sense) rather than sight, which is the concept I assume the whole idea of blind faith came from – was that she could not literally see Westley coming to rescue her in the castle, but her knowledge of him meant that she knew he would. "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." () Anyone who says faith is the opposite of knowledge is either phrasing it very poorly or doesn't know what they're talking about.
Anyway. Buttercup. Kickass role model. Who knew?
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I think we all want to hear more about the train trip. I don't suppose you happened to take any photos, or whip off a quick landscape or two?
ReplyDeleteNow, the questions come in earnest:
1) Do hiking and drinking coffee or whatever (the whatevers I might assume for you, for example, could be reading books, watching movies, doing arty stuff) - could you go into a bit more detail about what activities would be counted as waiting on God, and what activities would be counted as distractions from solitude?
2) Where does solitude, particularly lengthy periods, fit into the Christian life? Is it a necessity for all, a worthwhile opportunity for some, only meant for a specific few, useful only for the more mature, or less mature?
3) Is there something built into the program which is there to help those involved not feel as if they are superior or more mature because they have had the experience and others haven't? Or are those who have had the experience more mature or superior?
4) What's the deal with the saying no to other ministries thing? I mean, your solitude is taking up 30-40 hours a week, which is full-time job sort of times, and plenty of people with full time jobs take up ministry roles in churches. Is it more of a keeping yourself mentally clean from other God-stuff or church stuff?
Anyhoo, hope it all goes well, and will look forward to next post.
I was wondering how to answer these questions to some acceptable level of satisfaction for you, and then realized I probably couldn't. And realized I didn't really want to jump on that treadmill.
ReplyDeleteInstead, by way of suggesting a paradigm shift, try applying those program-oriented questions to an intimate and exceptional period in a relationship; the closest (imperfect, of course) analogy I can think of is a honeymoon. Hope that helps clarify things a bit for you.
(Btw, thanks for your skype message. I didn't get it straight away, but it was still timely :)
Hmm,
ReplyDeleteWell, if I were to answer my own questions with regards to a honeymoon...
Yes, we have photos.
1) Actions spent building the relationship are counted as positive - most usually those done alone. Alone in this case doesn't mean secluded from the world necessarily, but it means done just between the two in question - so you can go out to a restaurant, but not with 20 other people sitting at your table. Activities that counted as distractions would be anything that prevented the couple from positively building their relationship.
2) I would say honeymoons aren't biblical in the way that we do them. They are more of a cultural more that follow. That doesn't make them useless, but it certainly doesn't make them necessary. I would say those less experienced in marriage, or those who have had less of a relationship beforehand are in more of a need of a honeymoon, and that it is probably of more use to someone less mature than more mature.
3) I can't think of a couple that haven't had a honeymoon. However, I can say that I have seen superiority and inferiority complexia regarding length (1 week, 2 week, 4 week etc) and type (overseas, fancy resorts, busy schedule; at home, keep to yourself etc) of honeymoon. I think any good pre-marriage counsellor talks to a couple about this beforehand. I know ours did.
4) Probably least application to the honeymoon analogy, since most people don't take 40-hour week honeymoons (although it's an interesting concept). I guess it is more akin to the idea of newly married couples not sending their husband off to war or do other duties (Deut 24:5 style). Of course, this didn't prevent the man from having to work - I don't think the nation of Israel was funding a year-long honeymoon - so he would still have had to do all the subsistence farming that was a part of the lifestyle. So I don't think I can usefully answer this question.
That was a mostly useful exercise, thank you.
Also, that guy you mentioned you'll be reading, Nouwen, I believe Penny has been reading for the essay she just finished. It rings a bell, anyhow.
Glad to have been of assistance. :)
ReplyDeleteYour point about the man not being sent to war for the first year is a good one. Perhaps honeymoons, to some extent, are our cultural attempt at the same principle.
Does the superiority/inferiority issue particularly worry you? It felt like an incongruous question, compared to the others.
Does it worry me in general? I suppose I just like to be careful about "special" practices which are said to increase a believer's spiritual awareness, faith, relationship with God, maturity etc. I will cede that solitude is not quite on par with faith living, tongues speaking, gnostic 'special knowledge' and the like.
ReplyDeleteI don't imagine there to be a problem with solitude per se, it's just something I can see people walking away from saying, "Wow, I am so much more in touch with God than someone who hasn't had this experience" in my mind's eye, and I would hope that there is a foil to this thinking somewhere (unless of course it is actually true that one cannot be closer to God without performing some sort of solitude).
Does it worry me about you in particular? Not really. You know better. And if you don't, you do now, because I just told you.
Now that indeed is an interesting comment, because there are biblical practices specifically aimed at "increase a believer's spiritual awareness, faith, relationship with God, maturity etc." I mean, that should be a goal of every believer. Incidentally, would "retreat" be less of a problematic term? Jesus himself made sure to retreat from the crowds and demands of ministry, so I'd say that's a fairly decent precedent.
ReplyDeleteThe kind of thinking you seem to be concerned with is that which puts too much stock in spurious methods, and the pride that can come out of that? But then it's clear, from the example of the Pharisees at the very least, that even biblically-mandated things such as prayer, fasting, tithing can all be twisted into self-serving spiritual superiority. It's not the practice, it's the state of the heart that's practicing it. So no, there's no mechanism for a foil, much as a genuine relationship with God cannot be produced or even well imitated by any program. In this discipleship/peer group, there is wisdom born of experience in the mentor, accountability to one another and encouragement to true maturity and focus on God.
I would say that kind of thinking and perceived superiority diminishes as maturity grows. I'll assume you're not saying that we can't or shouldn't recognize when we are growing in maturity, because that's a peverse pride posing as humility. Jesus makes it clear that anyone genuinely seeking God will find him. Those who seek to grow in spiritual maturity and are willing to submit to his work on their life will receive it. Even if they start in places such as tongues or whatever, the heart that desires God is one God will draw to himself. I mean, sure, call out hypocritical spirituality and religion, but it's not our job to regulate people's hearts. That's God's problem, and he can take care of it much better than we can anyway.
Finally, I know I am going to walk away from this time saying, "Wow, my relationship with God has been enriched and deepened by this in a way that it could not otherwise have been. I hope everyone gets an opportunity to have this at the right point of their journey, when God leads them to it." However, I must say I'm surprised by your statement that you're not worried about me, specifically. Most of the time, in situations like this, you are taking care to let me know that I'm not superior, not "different", not whatever, and should stop trying so hard to pretend to be. Or have I just been the most prominent and convenient target for that sentiment that you want to apply generally?
Sure, there are biblical practices aimed at increasing a believer's "maturity" (as a catchall term). And yet just because someone does something in the Bible does not mean that it is a practice to be generally applied across the whole of the Church body (so we are not all called to be prophets), nor does it mean that they are necessarily to be followed at all (cleansing the promised land of other nations is best left to Ancient Israel).
ReplyDeleteSee, I would have called having an experienced mentor, an accountability structure and a focus on encouragement towards focus on God and true maturity to be a programmatic foil aimed at least partly on preventing people from strayng into the realms of self-serving spiritual superiority.
Yes, God regulates hearts, and yes, of course we should be able to recognise when we are growing in maturity (can we truly measure another person's maturity, though? Different question). And yes, as a general statement I will agree that all kinds of immaturity diminish as maturity grows, for that is what maturity is. But 'maturity' as a blanket statement is a bit of a furphy, because people can be at different stages in different parts of their life. The measures by which one recognises their growth in maturity (for there must be measures, or else how does one recognise that they are growing?) are surely varied, and although I would agree to an equality of outcomes in their increase as God's work of sanctification continues, it doesn't mean that any one thing cannot suddenly flare up into a problem, or that one or more things don't remain stubbornly as thorns in one's side.
I won't touch your last paragraph, because it being only text, I am having trouble reading it in the voice you no doubt meant it, instead only being able to hear it in a voice which would not be edifying, and I have no doubt you didn't mean it that way.
Regarding biblical practices that foster spiritual growth, I was more thinking of prayer, study of Scripture, meeting together, etc. Not being a prophet, or doing something just because "someone" in the bible did it, which appears to be a bit of strawman argument there. What I said was that Jesus' practices are a good precedent.
ReplyDeleteI would have called having an experienced mentor ... to be a programmatic foil aimed at....
I'd call it, and regard it, as relational. Similar to the issue of the idea of solitude in general - it is at heart a relational endeavour, not a programmatic one. Whatever elements of program there are in it serve to provide enough space for the relational stuff to happen.
The last paragraph's voice was curious and neutral, the question based off observations about previous interactions of ours, some of which are even documented in comments of this blog. Are you able to say why you're having problems with it?