So I thought I’d kick off this whole operation by sharing a little something I’m reading in Mike Cosper’s book, “Rhythms of Grace”. We youngsters are always asking how we can make our christianity and our worship more real, more authentic, more powerful. We are on the search for a more real experience of the christian life. Within this search for myself I have been seeing more clearly, not only that our true worship flows from the gospel, but that the good news must occupy a certain kind of space in our lives.
The gospel of Jesus Christ is not merely a formula for spiritual regeneration. It is the story of reality. It is the epicenter of God’s plan to make all wrongs right again, the one source of hope and beauty in a world of decay. As a human being, I am wired to do much more than process and agree with data. We are made as those who long for meaning and satisfaction in all that we do. We don’t want our lives to merely exist, we want them to sing. The question is, what is the tune that animates our whole reality?
Welcome to The Pilgrim Inn! This is the place of conversation, reflection and growth. For a time, this blog was home to the writings and thoughts of Andrey alone. Then, Andrey opened a different blog that focused more on the issues that he wants to be writing about. During this season, the tables sat empty, collecting dust. But during a weekend mountain retreat filled with coffee, bacon, steak and theology, the idea came up to pull back the dusty curtains and bring a new season of life and light to the place.
We are just a group of guys who love God, love his church, love history, love theology, and all that other good stuff. This is the place where we share our thoughts and experiences from our common journey to the Celestial City. This is that Inn that sits by the side of the road, from who’s windows a warm and inviting light glows. A place of fireside chats, arguments, questions and laughter. A place for weary pilgrims to be equipped, challenged and encouraged. We are glad you stopped by!
Its now been almost a week and half since I have returned the Wordsmithy Workshop at New Saint Andrews College. It has taken me this long to sit down and write down some reflections. Whether its busyness, or laziness or lack of a proper schedule, I don’t know. Lord knows I’ve doing my best to keep head above water. Alas, here I am. Finally, a moment to write.
If you haven’t ever heard of the Wordsmithy Workshop or of New Saint Andrews, check out my reflection from last year to get a little more background. Every year thus far it has been a wonderfully enriching experience. As I reflect on this year’s trip, my impressions all seem to congregate around one main aspect. Perhaps the greatest highlight of this year’s Wordsmithy for me was the opportunity to meet and interact with such a wonderful variety of people, all of whom had a passion for writing. This was helpful and inspiring for two main reasons.
Last year, in a conversation with a friend about parenting, he made a statement that stuck with me. He said, “I think the best model of parenting my own children is the way that God relates to me as a father.” I didn’t really get it at the time, but for some reason it has stuck in my mind.
Over the past weekend we have welcomed the newest member of our family and I have naturally wandered back into reflecting on the past year and the nature of parenting as it relates to all of life. I come back also, to this statement, and I think am starting to catch on to its meaning a little more.
I think the key issue is to see the basis and beauty of personhood in parenting.
Its amazing. All we want is for things to “get back to normal”. As we are reeling from the impact of one tragedy, it seems to just hit us again with multiplied vengeance. Has the world always been this broken? Am I just not waking up to the realities which have been so neatly tucked away from my sight all my life? It seems to all be going to hell before our very eyes.
Perhaps the paragraph above expresses my naivety. Of course the hurts of today do not come out of nowhere. They are emerging in their full bitter flavor after generations of poisonous marination. They are surfacing in rapid succession, and it is overwhelming. Like a person who has just been told they have 6 months to live we as a culture want to recoil into denial, repeating confidently, “What? How can this be? But I have felt totally fine up until now!”