23 June 2010

Conviction, Confession, and Blood

The work has picked up quite a bit with a major project and several assignments due every week. Justin, my love, was in last weekend and kept me distracted. And I've made some good friends that I devote free time to. There's my list of excuses as to why I have written recently. However, I have some stories and updates I want to share.

Conviction:
A Stick, A Carrot, and A String

Two weeks ago, I was really meditating on the above song. The quick break down:

Verse 1: animals (which don't usually talk) are rather chatty with the silent baby Christ. I word-vomit a bunch. Which means I'm not listening.

Verse 2: the goat, whose description shows he's been beat-up a bit, is not excluded by the other animals, but his own insecurities and baggage leads him to exclude himself. He reasons the other animals will judge him. His fear of judgment leads him to then judging the other animals as judgmental--thus making him the judgmental one. Does that makes sense?

Verse 3: The barn represents the Kingdom of God, where all our welcomed: "No clever talk nor gift to bring requires our lowly lovely King. Come you empty-handed, you don't need anything." This tends to be the opposite approach I take, being a perfectionist and all. My tattoo of the jar represents being able to come to God as we are, because so very often I want to try and make myself perfect first (like the goat) before coming to God or community. This inevitably fails, of course.

Verse 4: Sort of unrelated to the conviction bit I'm getting at, but still one of the most gripping lyrics I've heard in awhile, Christ says to the Father, "If You're willing that this cup might pass; I'll find my way back home, maybe start a family all our own." The conviction for me hits with "What else me, but You"

So two weeks ago, I'm meditating on this song, and God uses it to convict me that just as the goat, I had allowed fear of judgment to lead me to judge, fear of rejection to lead me to reject, fear of being isolated to isolating myself. At first before coming this summer, I was excited that it'd be Christian. "Instant community." But then I allowed the whispers of the enemy to slide into my heart and darken my expectations with fear. I have grown into a more "liberal christian" (I really hate these terms because of how they divide). I had alluded to this in my earlier posts of the tattoos and explaining schmis and schmat. I even went so far as to hide personal details and aspects of my personality...I, Jennifer Keogh, made masks.

Natural of course for humans to hide behind facades, but it's so against my core beliefs. That which I love about Hot Metal (the authenticity and unabashed openness that leads to real community) I hid. Talk about hypocrisy, I know no better example! And like the goat, my hypocrisy led me to cut myself off from real community here at SIL. God really convicted me.

Confession:
In the midst of His convicting me, I read that the following Chapel would be an "Open Share" to tell others about what God's been doing in you since coming to SIL. The timing was no coincidence.

Recently, God has shown some awesome displays of the healing and connective power of public confession for community. At Justin's bible study in Phoenix, a man publically confessed how his high expectations had cut him off from community. A couple of months ago, Laura Phillips made the powerful public confession of not tithing to Hot Metal. When one sins against a person, we're required to go and confess and seek forgiveness. These examples show that likewise when we've sinned against a community, we need to seek forgiveness from that community. "Open share" was God's way of telling me I needed to confess.

It was my first chapel attendance. I had actually avoided going to chapel thinking "It'll be way traditional and conservative. I won't fit in; I won't like it, and they won't like me." Typing this I feel a bit like Peter must have felt in the retelling of some of his more embarrassing fails. But the heart of confession, I learned, is humility.

So in humility, I shared that chapel most of which I just shared with you--the fear leading to sin. Stumbling out of my mouth came such wonderfully appropriate utterances like "God really kicked my ass." I shook and nearly cried, and I've rarely felt so humbled. But that was the point. I had placed myself above these people, I thought myself better than them because I assumed they would judge me whereas I am open and "liberal" and therefore accepting and not judgmental. Ugh!

Standing in front of the 50+ SIL-ers, I confessed that I had judged them and asked for their forgiveness. I sat down, others shared, the day continued as usual. But gradually, people started to approach me. Many, to my bewilderment, actually thanked me for sharing! Thanked me for telling them what an asshole I'd been! (Not in so many words, but you get my point). Others explained they acted likewise. A few showed me their tattoos and asked me about dumpster-diving. All of the sudden, my eyes became open to the richness of the community that I had been in all the while. It was as if the goat at last understood it'd been in the barn the entire time and just had closed his eyes and himself to that reality. I have had some really authentic interactions and conversations since then.

I discovered that God's Kingdom and the power of community do not apply to Hot Metal alone--which I never thought I thought until I realized that I did. But a humble heart that is open and honest about it's brokenness, a vulnerable and lowly spirit that admits it was made to be in community, an acknowledgment of the need for Christ...these are what open the door to community, to the outbreak of the Kingdom.

Blood:
FYI-turns out I'm anemic. Cool, huh? It's not a huge deal. It just adds to the dietary issues I'm having. So just keep my tummy and my blood in your prayers.

Prayer:
Also be praying for Grand Forks. I've met a lot of goats--a lot of lonely people who feel out of place and disconnected. Some locals have seen me as this outsider they can relate to as opposed to a town full of people they cannot. Pray that the Kingdom might break out in real tangible ways for the people here. One way God is already moving is through a local community garden, run by this fantastic guy, Caylan. He has a real passion for food, but moreso for community. Not sure if he's a follower of Christ, but it's certainly evident that his heart is seeking the Kingdom.

Lift up my dad for healing and safety for all those road-tripping (I can count 4 off the top of my head).

Pray for rest and ability for me. Since the outbreak of community, I've begun again Justin's age-old practice of people and conversation before everything else. I'm trusting that God will help me take care of the details of homework and sleep while I prioritize forming relationships. That's what Matt 6:25-34 is all about. "But seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." So, I'm seeking His Kingdom and praying that He'll provide for the work and rest as well.

2 comments:

Zedwarth said...

I remember learning this before, but it's recently been refreshed in my mind. The entomological root of person, is mask. Specifically the masks that performers would wear during Greek dramas.

I don't know if you meant it this way, as an exclusive, but do you really thing that really community or connection can only come out of negative things, such as brokenness?

J. R. Keogh said...

No. I think that recognizing our brokenness or vulnerability creates an leveling effect. I think equality, viewing oneself as no better, no worse, but equal to every other human is what sparks community. It eliminates an "I'm better than you" or an "I'm not good enough." It's not negative, it's equality. Confession, recognition of brokenness, humility...these things lead to viewing all as the same which facilitates community.