Aj Schwanz

Yesterday at our worship gathering we watched a dramatic presentation of the book of Micah:¬† not necessarily a Hallmark, touchy-feely event.¬† As a church body we’ve been working through the book for the past couple of weeks, noting that there’s some hard stuff dealt with (condemnation’s rarely easy), but that there’s also a message of hope and deliverance.
While the Israelites probably didn’t have a multiple readers (much less a boy and girl both reading the parts of God and Micah) or choreographed movements, they did intend for their Scriptures to be read outloud, and I can understand why.¬† Man, it was hard to avoid the reality of the events:¬† the blatent turning away from God that Judah and Israel performed, the harsh pronouncements of judgment, the pain and suffering that was coming no matter how hard they tried to squirm out of it.¬† I squirmed in my seat a number of times, wanting to get up and leave as they actors chanted, “Doom.¬† Doom.¬† Doom.”

At the end of service, Gregg shared hope that came out of Micah:  a promised Deliverer whose reality we live in today.  We offered up words of hope and experience.

While I think it was good, though uncomfortable, to experience this, I wonder if there should’ve been more words offered giving background context - not so much on the book of Micah (we’ve gotten that), but on the purpose of the prophetic books . . . in society today.¬† See, I’ve sensed that the days of the Doom and Gloom prophets have set:¬† this seems to be a pre-Christ thing.¬† Now that Christ has come and we are called ot live in the Kingdom of God *now*, it doesn’t seem that such voices are accurate: they contain truth, but it’s truth viewed through an Old Testament/pre-Christ lens.

I couldn’t pinpoint my dis-ease until a Friend stood up and shared, “In Christ, there is no condemnation!”¬† and my heart rang out with a hearty, “YES!!!”¬† We have been put into Christ; our sins forgiven.¬† We are called to walk a different path, live a different life, sit at the feet of God and allow Him to redeem and transform us.

So, where do the Old Testament prophetic voices fit into our lives today?  What do prophetic voices of today sound like?  Do I know how to listen for the right voice?  Am I faithful to respond?

Ah, yes: yet another installment of Balcony-Person Aj’s Sunday Reflections. I would be lying if I didn’t say that at moments I wondered if this is my Sunday theme song:

“Why do we always come here? I guess we’ll never know. It’s like a kind of torture to have to watch the show.”

But I think today’s worship gathering at NFC would’ve put a plug in their yappers, both due to amount of sharing, the type of content shared, and the stark call of the Spirit towards worship and adoration of God our King.

Today we sang a number of songs glorifying and confessing that God is our King - how we stand in awe of God, we bow down and crown you our King. I struggled with the songs some: many folks were so emotionally engaged, I wondered if they truly connected with the words or if they were participating in a more “staged and planned” experience (worship planned to take us deeper and deeper to a certain emotional point; the “high” is achieved/consumed where folks feel “touched”; the worship comes out of that deep place; we continue with life as normal feeling like our job is done). But then, of course, during open worship a number of people shared about the deep meaning and connection the worship songs had for them - for some it was a true confession of the profession that God is King; for some it was a marker of how songs serve as markers - the words take on additional meaning as God working and healing in them over the years. Ah, the Spirit dialogues in crazy ways.

As open worship began, a Friend stood and shared his concern for some business matters taking place at the Yearly Meeting/District level of our denominational gathering. He wanted to engage in discussion with others about their knowledge of these matters and to call attention to a meeting taking place next Sunday regarding these changes. Compared to the worship we had been engaged in, it was a shocking, jolting thing: my spirit recoiled so strongly that I started shifting in my seat, gripping the pew in front of me, feeling the need to Make-This-Stop!

My friend stepped up and did the job he is so gifted to do (though he is wonderful at preaching, despite what he believes I think): to name what just happened, to gently and lovingly remind us the difference between Open Worship and Worship for Business. The rest of our time was spent in open worship. Some continued down the road of business, but for the most part people seemed to enter into a deeper level of worship: sharing their personal calls, confessions, praises. It was almost as though the initial sharing reversely clarified what worship truly is - how we do it - what our attitudes and thoughts and actions and lives should be.

I understand why the friend spoke. With change can come perceived loss of control, and a natural reaction to such a threat can be fear. And I welcome the opportunities to discuss this at the appropriate time and venue.

But I’m even more excited about what will come from this encounter with the Spirit. I *know* the Spirit was there: a number of times people shared exactly what I was thinking. AND I’m realizing that I cry when the Spirit is around. Which is not the barometer I would prefer God to use to alert me to when the Spirit’s doing a jig (seeing as how I do things, such as sitting in the balcony, to AVOID ATTENTION). But tears flowed down my cheeks for a good half hour, and even the nose decided to join in the liquid bounty: boy howdy, I was so pretty on this Mama’s Day. So I trade in my Heckler’s Theme song for a chorus, standing and waiting and loving on my Lord. Lord, you are calling us to a season of confession and deepened worship; will You help us receive what You have prepared for us?

You are beautiful beyond description,
Too marvelous for words;
Too wonderful for comprehension,
Like nothing ever seen or heard.
Who can grasp Your infinite wisdom?
Who can fathom the depth of Your love?
You are beautiful beyond description,
Majesty enthroned above.

And I stand, I stand in awe of You,

I stand, I stand in awe of You;

Holy God, to Whom all praise is due,

I stand in awe of You.

I stand in awe of You

Lately at church folks have often proclaimed, “Amazing gathering!¬† I felt the Spirit so powerfully!”¬† People share freely and frequently in open worship, and the messages have been very similar - that of Christ’s love for individuals and communities and beyond.¬† But I haven’t been able to participate fully:¬† something’s been off-kilter, a very uncomfortable sense of unrest and a call to something more.¬† But not having found a way to express it constructively (i.e. not throwing a tantrum), I’ve chosen to remain quiet in service and process with close ones.

But this Sunday — this Sunday was *good*.¬† Playing in the worship ensemble, Jason told me that the focus of the gathering was Faith Promise (equipping missionaries tied to NFC with monetary and prayer support).¬† But this time the sharing was different:¬† it was tied around a common element - all of these missionaries work with kids.¬† So we sang “kid” songs (man, if you want to work out your glutes, sing a couple rounds of “Allelu, allelu, allelu, alleluia, praise ye the Lord!” with the standing and the sitting and the standing and the sitting . . . though I did notice that the university president and his wife sitting in front of me abstained from the aerobic workout), young folks read the Call to Worship, folks shared about camping programs and mission trips to Thailand to help young people stay out of the sex trade, and then we closed with a corporate prayer.¬† No specific “sermon” was given, but through our participation, the message was received and experienced very clearly.

Being at this particular stage in life/motherhood, it was hard to pray the corporate prayer - not because I don’t agree, but because it’s so starkly real.¬† Particularly as Mother’s Day is approaching, I’ve been talking with God about how who the “parents” in my life have been and how God calls me to be a parent to the Little Ones that I come into contact with on a regular basis “for these children and all those in between.”¬† What does God say to you?

A PRAYER FOR THE CHILDREN (best when spoken aloud)

We pray for the  children
who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
who sneak Popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who’ve never squeaked across the floor in new sneakers,
who never had crayons to count,
who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.
We pray for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,
who give hugs in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who cover themselves with Band-Aids and sing off-key,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.
And we pray for those
who never get dessert,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind,
who can’t find any bread to steal,
who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
whose monsters are real.
We pray for children
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories, who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
who never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the school,
who squirm in church and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and
whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children who want to be carried,
and for those who must.
For those we never give up on,
and for those who never get a chance.
For those we smother with our love,
and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to
offer.

~Ina J. Hughes, Mission Newsletter of Foundation for His Ministry, August, 2002

God is wonky.  Two Sundays ago was a powerful service . . . for most folks.  I
sat there frustrated, anxious, and pretty curmudgeony:¬† why is service the same ol’ thing every week?¬† Is Graham Cooke right - a God capable of creating a bajillion types of insects must be bored out of his skull with our Worship Structure/Formula?¬† I’m glad that folks recognize that Christ loves them, but isn’t there more to the message than that?¬† Yes, Newberg Friends has had some amazing people come through it’s doors:¬† but what about the amazing people who never come . . . and don’t need to? ¬† How do we connect with them where they’re at?

As I looked around, feeling as though everyone was moving with the tide of the Spirit except difficult ol’ me, I wondered if I needed to leave - both momentarily and maybe permanently.¬† Maybe this was God’s way of motivating me:¬† making me so uncomfortable on Sunday mornings as I actually somewhat dread the hour plus internal struggle - how much longer can I simply sit on the pew?¬† Gregg mentioned that individuals at NFC were responding to the Spirit in powerful ways in their communities - I almost resorted back to two-year-old Aj by throwing a temper tantrum yelling, “Who are they?!!!¬† Why don’t I know them?!!¬† How can we work together?!!?¬† Why aren’t we more connected?!!”

So why is God wonky?¬† Because that afternoon as I contemplated setting off on a new journey, I received a voicemail from someone asking me to take a position as Recording Clerk for the Business Meetings.¬† As I was listening to the details, I started laughing hysterically:¬† I’m fortunate my husband didn’t commit me.¬† So, before me lay two options:¬† to leave or to get further involved.

It wasn’t an easy decision:¬† having not attended a business meeting, I assume that it’s dealing with a lot of “overhead” issues (salaries, building, administrative type stuff) - stuff that early Quakers and emerging church say we shouldn’t devote so much time to.¬† But then while I was reading Never Eat Alone (no, it’s not a food book - it’s about networking… with a little eating¬† :)¬† ), the author made the statement “You need to give more than you ever expect to receive.”¬† My giving has been very poor as of late, but my expectations of taking are overwhelming:¬† mememe!!!! Over and over he emphasizes the importance of relationships.¬† I wanted to throw a tantrum because I don’t feel like I have good enough connections/relationships with folks at NFC:¬† I guess this could be a way to find that out!
After talking with the Presiding Clerk, I decided to accept the role.¬† Recording Clerk is a position I am very familiar with (thank you Friends Youth Exec, temp. Board of Evangelism, and my former boss with weekly staff meetings).¬† Meetings are quarterly.¬† And who knows what I’ll learn/be able to bring to the meetings.¬† A friend commented, “Well, that’s the way to get young adults to come to the meetings - enlist them.”¬† I doubt many more young adults will come, and I don’t know that they necessarily need to.¬† But at least I can be a voice - a connection on both sides.¬† And if things need shaking up, I can always throw a little temper tantrum for good measure.¬†

So a boring old traditional church *can* show glimmers of technological saavy: our meeting was featured on a local news station because our services are available online. AND our group is SO welcoming that we tried to get the reporter to join in the service by ushering: ha!

Check it out.

Todayís message at worship was entitled ìBread of Lifeî - looking at the passage in John 6:35:

ìJesus said, “I am the Bread of Life. The person who aligns with me hungers no more and thirsts no more, everî (MSG).

We were encouraged to question what is sustaining us - Christ or other things? What does it mean for Christ to be our sustaining bread? How might we be fully dependent on God? Bread was laid out on tables throughout the sanctuary, and we were encouraged to get a piece of bread and eat/consume it as we ponder/meditate/dialogue with the Spirit regarding what sustains us.

This whole topic can be a mildly touchy subject for Quakers who have a tradition of abstaining from traditional bread and wine communion. Some cite that it stems from scripture stated later in John:

ìThe Spirit can make life. Sheer muscle and willpower don’t make anything happen. Every word I’ve spoken to you is a Spirit-word, and so it is life-makingî (6:63 MSG)

meaning anything the Spirit matters and the fleshly acts donít. However, Iíve heard a different take: I have a friend who thinks of every meal as an opportunity for communion - to break bread and encounter God in community. He doesn’t feel called to engage in communion once a month/week, but in the breath of everyday life.

Iím reading Emerging Churches: Creating Christian Communities in Postmodern Cultures by Eddie Gibbs and Ryan K. Bolger (only read the first chapter, but so far itís pretty accurate of my experience). When looking at church experiences in the U.S. and U.K., the authors noted:

According to different timetables and different degrees in various traditions, the church removed the symbolic, the mystical, and the experiential to make space for logical and linear ways of thinking and living. . . The church continues to communicate a verbal, linear, and abstract message to a culture whose primary language consists of sound, visual images, and experience, in addition to wordsî (20).

I have a friend who has left the Friends tradition to become Episcopalian: she says, ìThere *needs* to be more ritual and liturgy in our lives!î Sheís not saying that participating in these acts secures her ìsalvationî (she loves space created for open worship), but rather that tradition helps her experience God more fully. Communion might not be meaningful every time, but then again, open worship might not either.

How can the Quaker tradition speak to a generation that ìwhen the mystery, the visual, the ritual, the touch, and the beauty are removed, little is leftî (21). When I hear ìQuakers donít take communion,î it sounds pretty exclusionary of othersí experience - many times it said with a tone of ìweíre above taking communion.î What if itís meaningful to others, and what if our ìpronouncementî impedes others experiencing God? How can we extend the embrace of God in worship whole-heartedly and remain authentic to our identity? Is that an issue?

Still no word has been heard regarding the status of the kidnapped members of the Christian Peacemaker Team in Iraq. Last Sunday, Matt Chandler spoke in the NFC Young Adult Sunday School class ñ which turned into the ìYoung at Heartî Adult class since folks of all ages flocked to hear his experiences working in Iraq with these very folks who have been abducted. I did not attend: didnít find out about it until it was almost over. But I spoke with a few folks who were present: they said it was affirming to hear of Mattís peaceful determination to continue to follow this call God has placed on his heart, despite the backlash of folks (particularly folks who label themselves as Christians) who say that the team members were reckless and were asking to be kidnapped by working in Iraq.

Matt talked about how the group that has claimed responsibility for the kidnaping doesnít fall into the typical description of hostage-takers in Iraq. They didnít cover their faces or the faces of the team members. They did not display flags or other symbols of allegiance in the background of their communications. They only communicate with Al Jazeera, the national news corporation. I believe they first said that the hostages were spies; then they said they would not release the hostages until all the detainees were released - however, the hostagesí work *was* to free detainees. It doesnít add up, at least in accordance to past kidnapings by other groups.

Matt talked about his work freeing detainees. When an incident happened (car bomb, etc.), soldiers sweep the streets, and any people within a certain radius - whether they are involved or simply passing by - are imprisoned. The prison system is so overloaded and messed up that folks get lost in the jumble of paperwork and crowded conditions. Loved ones would come to Matt, and he would help them negotiate the government channels simply to find where the detainee was held, and then they began the long and cumbersome process of beginning to free them. Matt had a friend who was one of these passer-bys, and he was imprisoned for over a year. A YEAR!! Can you imagine a year of your life gone, simply because you needed to go to the store, some guy blew up a car, and a nineteen year old freaked out soldier sent you to a detention center?

When a person knows that they want to work in a field that will take them overseas, perhaps in business, they train and prepare: they learn the languages, customs - immerse themselves in the culture. Theyíre working with pen and paper - not guns. Somehow I doubt the government is training, preparing, sensitizing these soldiers on proper cultural etiquette and interaction ñ but they are giving them weapons. See anything wrong with that picture?

It makes my heart ache: I so long for things to be righted. I feel useless - futile: itís so large, and Iím so small. But I can pray. I can pray for God to sensitize my heart and the hearts of others to the injustice going on. I can pray that God will awaken the call Heís placed on certain individuals hearts to get involved in the immediate situation. I can pray that God helps me and others on the ìoutsideî to equip and strengthen those in the midst, living out his love and peace in mayhem and chaos. Oh God: may it be so!

Here’s an interview of Matt on Oregon Public Broadcasting.

We (that would be the royal “we”) are now accepting entries to contribute to the “You Might Be A Quake If” montage. I already have one *lovely* submission (aw, Gregg: you’re just so photogenic). If you’d like to expound on why it’s oh-so-Quakey, that might make it into the post as well.

On Sunday night Gregg offered up a question: what types of concerns or compassions have been laid on your heart in regards to our community (specifically the city of Newberg)? He didnít want to get into major detail about them - our meeting was more to prime our ears and open our eyes rather than decide upon a plan of action. Thatís when my friend shared her walking story. Others shared wonderful things: to help provide affordable housing for folks trying to get out of poverty, to provide financial counseling, to help teens overcome the apathy towards drugs, to provide support for teen moms.

I didnít share my impressions: I feel like Iíve somewhat said them before. Again, I felt a compassion for my friends, especially in regards to blessing and healing. We were the ìgoodî kids: went to Sunday School, attended all youth group and youth yearly meeting functions, acted in drama and band and choir (the ìsafeî school activities) and only played sports that didnít involve having to chew or beat the crap out of somebody (basically - tennis, maybe track, mostly tennis). We felt ìset apart.î

But now, not so much. That whole Barna statistic of ìChristian stats and non-Christian lifestyle stats are pretty darn similarî has totally come into play. I respect my friendsí decisions to create a life for themselves; I hurt to see how many of them appear to be hurting, aimless, lonely - even though we look like ìeverybody elseî now - the larger group of our peers - we’re more alone.

I wonder what wouldíve happen if they had words of blessing spoken into their lives: words from God as He sees them in the future giving them guidance for what they should/need/will become. As they wander without these words, they encounter all sorts of hurts from the world and have no sort of refuge or place of triage. The church *should* be this place, but for whatever reason, they arenít finding it in the shape the church is in their lives. Christ spent most of his time doing two things: teaching *and* healing. The teaching thing we seem to have down pat (almost a little *too* pat) . . . but the healing part?

And how am I supposed to minister to my friends much less others when Iím still carrying wounds? My ministry wonít be pure unless those get taken care of; they will taint everything I do and say - they anchor me from becoming who Godís called me to be. Graham Cooke says our job isnít to avoid getting hurt; itís to get healed up faster.

I wish things would be fixed so that God would stop aching so Heíd stop making me ache because, like my son, Heís awfully persistent *and* insistent: what a combo.

What means of healing do you see taking place in your worship gatherings? Iíd really appreciate hearing your examples, hoping one of them sparks an idea of what to do with this impression rather than circular pontification.

Kinda like Beastie Boys, but different.
Yesterday evening we had our gathering at NFC, seeking what next step God has for us as a church body. It was a grand time of sharing, questioning, noticing, and blessing. Gregg started off the meeting saying folks knew he was a bit scattered, but in the words of Aj, ìOur job is to be present, and we fully expect that Godís going to show up!î To which a friend sitting next to me leaned over and whispered, ìThatís your Dadís phrase! He says that all the time!î Ooops. I stole from my dad: I hope he doesnít mind. At least that means *something* sunk in, though he doesnít get any credit. Such is parenthood, eh?

One word that came up over and over in the meeting was the word ìrelationshipsî: with each other in the church, with those in our daily lives, with those who float in and out of our lives at certain time periods, those that are lacking between church and the world. Gregg asked how we saw Christ “bustiní out” of NFC (which again, he credited to me, but itís really from John Macy, and he mightíve stole it from someone else. Man, weíre a bunch of thieving Quakers!).

One friend talked about how sheís been going for more walks around Newberg with her dog; because of this, sheís noticed a lot more going on in Newberg - and an overwhelming sense she gathers is that of loneliness. She got emotional talking about sensing the ache of these people who are not being known by others. She, like I so often do, apologized for her show of emotions, but I sensed that it was a God-placed thing: emotions are there to alert us to something going on.

When Judah was little, days were looooong, and a walk around the block (or blocks, depending on how long I had to walk to keep him safe ñ from me ) was the only answer. I began to notice things going on in my neighborhood - the Hispanic family who always seemed to have giant family parties that made me want to ask if they could adopt us for the day, the kids who didnít have anything else to do but sit around and throw rocks at cars, the house that never seemed to sell, the woman who so meticulously took care of her lawn that she didnít seem to have time for anything else, the house that didnít seem to know how to operate a lawnmower or figure out if this was a recycling or garbage debris week - usually getting it backwards and leaving their full cans on the street for a good couple of days. Walking around town, I had time to notice things invisible to the driverís eye. And I, too, gathered an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

My friendís planning on doing something about it. She knows the background of some of these folks whose houses she walks past, has baked some pumpkin bread, and plans on giving it to them. She says itís so simple and obvious that itís stupid, and yet somethingís held her back from doing anything about it before now. Sometimes it seems like the simplest things that are the hardest: we scratch our heads, knowing that thereís got to be more to it. It makes me wonder what simple things God calls me to do more with in my life . . .