I finished reading a book yesterday. This is something that excites me because I tend to read such heavy and dense tomes that it takes me too darn long to get to the end. By the time I finish the book I find that I have forgotten what the beginning of the book was about. I suppose at that point I should read the book again, but then I would never get beyond one book.
I finished Peter Berger’s The Sacred Canopy. It is a
slightly dated sociological work on religion, but has a still relevant analysis
on the influence of secularization, pluralism, and the free religious market of
America on churches today. I give it a wholehearted thumb and a half up. If
there was more gratuitous sex in the book then I would give it two thumbs up,
but alas it was not meant to be.
Yesterday (Sunday) morning I found myself staring at my sermon manuscript.
My usual routine at that time of day is to go over my sermon
a couple of times, read it out loud, and work on those final preparations.
Yesterday I did not want to do it. I was not into it.
I do not think it was just the sermon itself – can you
imagine me writing a dull sermon? Neither can I. I think it was deeper than the
sermon that brought about the spiritual malaise of the moment. I think I would
describe it as a lapse of faith.
Now don’t get all in a tizzy because I suggest I had a lapse
of faith. I’m of the Saint John of the Cross school of thought; I feel people
should have moments of the “Dark Night of the Soul” when they question and
doubt. The intensity and severity of those moments will vary so not every
moment of darkness will be all encompassing. They may be moments on a Sunday
morning when you are sitting at your desk before worship, looking at your
sermon, and wondering, “what the f**k am I doing?” I have these moments from
time to time to time to time… These experiences are important because they are
potentially moments to grow in faith (or to loose your faith but lets keep the
glass half-full for now).
I still showed up to work. I smiled and I glad-handed, and
was present for people. One of my fears is that I preach a sermon without
conviction. In order to escape this potential preaching black hole I found that
I had to work on my prayers and sense of God’s presence in my life during the
service. Let me say that again. I had to work on my prayers and sense of God’s
presence in my life.
The idea that prayer is work and that a sense of
spirituality takes effort should not be new or earth shattering. Yet it is
something that I need to remind myself of again and again. It is easy to read
some Bible passage, sit for the appropriate amount of time, and then end with
some pre-scripted prayer. I am amazed how well I can go through the entire
schedule of my day during that time. What is difficult is focusing, listening
for God, and actually sharing with God. This is work, hard work that I need to
improve upon.
In the end I feel like I did a decent job with the sermon. I
preached, I felt the movement of the Holy Spirit, and I believe there was sincerity
to my conviction. This morning I started again to work on my prayer and
spirituality. I really tried to work on being focused. I don’t think my family
appreciated me yelling at the top of my lungs at 5am, “FOCUS ON GOD! FOCUS ON
GOD! YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF ----, FOCUS ON THE LORD, THE REDEEMER. COME-ON,
FOCUS ON GOD!”
In case you were hoping for something more grounded and
academic – go read some of Teresa of Avila’s experience of spirituality, maybe
the Interior Castle or something. Read St. John of the Cross’ Dark Night of the
Soul – then go ahead and gloat that you actually finished a book
1 comment:
I preached that same sermon - "Ho Hum, I love Jesus, blah, blah..." - except, as you can see, I pulled up short before that final blah to leave room for the Holy Spirit. It's only in sports where you are supposed to leave it all on the field.
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