The Living Word

We humans often ask a simple question of the events or subjects that confront us, "what does this mean?" Recently however, I have been challenged to ask of the world not, "what does this mean" but "what does this do/how does this function?" The idea to shift the question that I was asking originated from my theology prof on the question of tongues, but since then I have been exploring the implications of that question in art, and most recently, scripture reading.

So often we approach Scripture as though it were the object, and we, the subject acting upon it. This has led humanity down both the roads of fundamentalism and higher criticism. The driving force behind both of these movements was an inability to let Scripture act upon us; we had to tame the Scriptures, to understand them, to mine them for scientific knowledge. We treated Scripture as a dead text, something that pointed us towards God, but not a way in which we might actually encounter God.

The gospel of John refers to Jesus as being the Word, the Word become flesh in fact. The incarnation is that messy occasion where we are confronted by God and are forced to majorly deconstruct some of our ideas about the way the world is. An encounter with God shakes us in a way that leaves us forever changed. What would happen, if we read the Scriptures looking to actually encounter the living Word, not just learn about him? Try letting the text do something to you, allow it to transform you instead of obsessing over the insane question, "What does it all mean?" After a couple thousand years, we still don't really know, but we do know that Scripture does something to us, and that, I think, is something to cling to.

Your young men will see visions...

A young man sat daydreaming in the back-row of the chapel. In those days the word of the Lord was rare among men and not many had visions. Suddenly the young man's lazy afternoon thoughts were shattered by a startlingly vivid vision.

A voice said, "Son of man, look upon the world!"

And lo, I looked and rising up above the fields

of the earth was a great and terrible masculine

form, rising up on the edges of the horizon. He

had eyes like coal and a bloody scourge hung from 

his hand. He towered above the masses of screaming 

humanity that groveled at his feet. 

I beheld the name of this behemoth - he was Sin, and 

all are enslaved by him.

The young man awoke from his vision and cried out to the Lord.

"What shall be done?!?!" he cried.

The Lord said unto him "The one whom the Son of Man sets free shall be free indeed. I have set you free, go and do unto others likewise."

At that moment, the young man's mind was filled with a myriad of fleeting pictures and impressions; unlocking chains, pouring water, soothing the distraught, feeding the hungry, tending the sick... On and on it went, the young man being laid low under the intensity of the onslaught. Finally the young man bowed his head and, in a broken voice barely above a whisper prayed, "Your will be done..."

Who am I?

What my guy friends say: "You're a terrible person".
What my girl friends say: "You are a good friend/You're a jerk".

What their actions say: "I trust and count on you"

What my family says: "We love you and miss you"

What their actions say: "Oh, you're around?"

What God says: "I have called you by name, you are mine... I love you."

What his actions say - the same thing.


With all these voices telling me who I am, who do I believe? Or perhaps all of these voices speak some truth about who I am, perhaps I am all these things, maybe I'm none of them. A wise man once told me to "find my identity in Christ", yet, it is undeniable that at least part of our identity is shaped by the social context we are placed in. I don't even know where home is anymore, I have multiple communities telling me different (and sometimes conflicting) things about who I am. The only one who remains constant is the Lord. Perhaps the NT writers new what they were talking about in referring to Christ as the chief cornerstone. It really seems that he is the only constant source to be found.

This home we call the body...

Dissatisfaction.

Always looking, never finding.

An unresolved chord.

Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting...

Screaming, smiling, crying, laughing.

Chin up, back straight

Big smile, silent tears, loud laugh.

Surrender, or maybe retreat?

Always tired, never asleep.

In the words of Bilbo, "thin, like too little butter spread over too much bread".

Offending yet offended.

Listening, but not hearing.

Speaking but not being heard.

Bored, yet desiring no entertainment.

Hungry, yet without appetite.

Loved by God.

What will ever be enough?

A Lenten Prayer

Have mercy on me, O God, in your great goodness;

according to the abundance of your compassion

blot out my offences

Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness

and cleanse me from my sin.

For I acknowledge my faults

and my sin is ever before me.

Against you only have I sinned 

and done what is evil in your sight,

So that you are justified in your sentence

and righteous in your judgement.

Cast me not away from your presence

and take not your holy spirit from me.

Give me again the joy of your salvation

and sustain me with your gracious spirit;

Then shall I teach your ways to the wicked

and sinners shall return to you.

Deliver me from my guilt, O God,

the God of my salvation,

and my tongue shall sing of your righteousness.

a small confession

The book of Romans teaches us that "If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved" (Romans 10:9). Salvation is attained through Christ's work on the cross, but the question of how we claim that salvation weighs heavily on my mind. 


This verse tells us that we will be saved through two things; belief and confession. The question arises, how do those two things intersect? Is it the belief that forces the confession or does the confession shape the belief? Clearly there is some event, or series of events, that brings an individual to a confession of belief, but once that initial step has been taken, how does one remain faithful?

According to the practice of the Church, it is the confession that forms belief. We say the creeds, pray the Lord's prayer and participate in the Sacraments and liturgy of the Mass time and again. These are the things that shape us, they become the traditions that form our beliefs. These rituals and traditions provide the rhythm and lens through which we understand our world and ultimately build up our belief. Faith alone will surely whither and die without constant strengthening, and that strengthening comes to us through tradition.

My whole life I struggled with having a sincere confession of faith that came through sincere belief, and would often falter because my belief was weak. Now I know that my belief comes about through my constant confession that Jesus Christ is Lord.

If you don't believe me, check out Peter, he confessed that Jesus was the Messiah and then went on to deny Christ 3 times. His belief was weak, but as he continued to confess that Jesus was the promised one (cf. the Book of Acts).

Sometimes, I don't believe, but then the words "Our father..." start up again, and once again I am overcome by the inescapable belief in God that comes through confession.