Defending Faith -- Inspiration 15

Do I Make Myself Clear?

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone 

who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 

1 Peter 3:15 NIV

TWITTER, FACEBOOK and a vast network of social media outlets provide places for people to share, talk about, explain, give argument, or vent their personal opinions, feelings, and beliefs. Political, social, and religious views can be cause for some to spew sharp criticisms and to levy ugly attacks when in disagreement with others' views. The tit for tat becomes unpleasant when opposite opinions are discounted and rebuked as absurd, using harsh, condemning, and foul language. Hateful. Parameters would help. Free expression needs civility and respectful exchange. Should the spiritual person defend their faith? Scripture defends itself quite adequately. It states truth explicitly, forthrightly, without any unjust attack. Christians are to answer the reason for the hope that is within them. Christ Himself acknowledged who He was as in stated factual information. He let His words and actions speak for themselves. His parables, expressions, and miracles were offered to make people think, to help them see the big picture, to answer spiritual questions, to point them to God, and to draw their attention to truth. Christ was direct. His words penetrated beneath layers of confusion and wrong-minded thinking. Today, the expressions of faith on social media should be likewise: truth-filled, gospel-filled, love-filled, words of life. Defend the faith on social media, if you will. But do it God's way. When you do, be prepared to take some heat. Represent Christ in the way He represented Himself, with truth, love, and honest care and compassion for all who would listen.

Father God, how we need You in times like these. Help us to portray You as You would want us to. May our words speak life to those who need You. Amen

To God be the Glory

Prayer that speaks, a consolation text.

Meditation at a Monastery: Contemplative prayer. Prayerful thoughts that speak.

CONSOLATION

Why am I here, dear God? Why a monastery? Why do I have this desire to be here? I am not catholic. It does not make sense.

My dear child, it is not for you as much as it is for others, my people. Some have closed minds. They think I only work one way. But that is a falsity. I work in people’s lives, to change them, to bring them closer to myself. Some resist this thinking. They have to have neat little boxes with human parameters. 
Why is it that way? Why do people become rigid?

They don’t understand.

What don’t they understand?

My ways are complex yet simple. So simple that they stumble upon them. My grace is for all people, to all people, loving and kind, a sweet, sweet savor.

What is complex about it?

I am complex, as you well know. You can never know all there is to know about me. My ways are infinite. My truths, unsearchable, unknowable, in their fullness. Some day you will know more of my ways, my truths. That is what Heaven is for. We become family in the here-after, a beautiful loving family. There will be no denominations in heaven, no separation or boundaries of thought. We will be of one mind and one spirit, the Spirit of the living God.

Praises? I can’t wait for that beautiful day.

#prayer #monastery #God

A New Start, A New Book, A Monastic Interlude

Stone Chapel at Abbey of Newclairvaux

MOMENTS WITH GOD IN MONASTIC SOLITUDE

Today I started the first entry to a new book I will be writing throughout the year of 2014, Lord willing. For one year I have wished to start this book but life happened instead. Now it is time. The setting will be a place where monastics live in an abbey in northern California near the Vina Plains and in the small township of Vina. Twice or thrice weekly for twenty-two years I have driven north to Vina, some twenty miles, to attend another church--the one where I worship. For years I have wondered what lay down the drive to the monastery past its white cross at its entrance. Never, until this  day, have I ventured there.

Committing to this writing project is one that will come easily. I long for quiet times with God, to seek his still small voice in a setting away from the busyness that makes life frantic at times. After arriving, I walked around just a small area of the grounds. The Abbey of Newclairvaux is a working farm and winery. I know some about it for its activities are mentioned in the local newspaper and other publications. It is also the subject of a new book written by someone who is not of the faith. I have read and wondered. Today was a fulfillment of the thoughts. I found myself entering a strange excitement in the inner person the moment I turned into the winding driveway. The sense of peace was immediate.

I parked the car then walked to the Chapel Stones area. I sat and wrote. I walked to the Church area. I sat on wooden pews and wrote while contemplating in complete solitude, undisturbed, not even a visitor entered--and there were many visitors on the grounds. I retraced my steps to the white metal chair and began to write again. I took a few phone pics and then continued writing. I glanced up. A light beam shone through the chapel window toward me as if to touch me. A few minutes later it was at my feet. It almost seemed like a providential sign, I am with you in the writing of this book.

My notepad on my lap with the light shining at my feet.

An Excerpt

Entry One: January 3, 2014, 3:30 - 4:30 p.m.

The sun is stroking deep inside, warmth is penetrating. A day, like a spring sun-filled day, it is. My first visit here at the monastery. The chapel, with its ancient stones, gives me the shivers. Its unfinished state is the blend of the old with the new.

It is a new year and I have an awareness that this new year, 2014, will bring many gifts and many sorrows. They both make up our days, weeks, months, and years. I am in a peaceful state.

I hear many birds chirping, a tractor or fork-lift being driven. The sun is descending in the western sky. Its rays touch my face and warms my body. I hear visitors talking, their  sandles slap against the asphalt sidewalk. Voices carry through the air. It is a working farm yet peaceful. A group of students in a circle sit in the open entry of the west-side arches to the Chapel, their bodies facing the warmth of the sun. They talk quietly as I enter the room.

I find myself relaxing. The praying and praises to God were flowing from my mind the moment I stepped out of my car and still are flowing every second. So beautiful are you, Lord God. You speak in the quietness. I do love you, Lord.