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Heart Laid Bare

June 18, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

The right words at the right moment touch the heart and something happens. It can be a moment in a play or a movie, a speech or a book, even a casual conversation or in the midst of instruction. And when that word pierces the inner self, we are changed.

I Corinthians 14:24-25a
But if an unbeliever or someone who does not understand comes in while everybody is prophesying, he will be convinced by all that he is a sinner and will be judged by all, and the secrets of his heart will be laid bare.

I saw this happen some years ago while in a church service. I had a friend who had been struggling with lifestyle decisions. He was like a feather being tossed about, looking for a safe place to land. I invited him to a Vineyard church service in Atlanta (back then, such services were cutting edge and specifically geared for the younger set). After the service, one of the guys asked my friend if a small group could pray for him and my friend agreed. It was during this prayer that someone in the group spoke a “prophecy” over my friend about an impending choice in his life. She told him of his past and his fears. She spoke specifics about his life and my friend’s heart was laid bare. It was the most amazing thing to observe. He knew, in that moment, beyond any doubt, that he had been touched by the divine.

That day is seared into my own memory, not only because of the time in church, but the deep soul searching my friend had the rest of the afternoon. He would go through periods of shaking and crying and even laughing. He would sit silently and then he would talk, deeply and honestly, about his life, his future, his mistakes, his losses, his hopes and his disappointments. He turned a corner that day and for many years, he followed a new dream because of that day.

I remember a different experience, also in my late twenties, when my own heart was ripped wide open. It is not a particularly pleasant memory as it was a searing, rending of emotions that brought me to my knees. I had only been a follower of Christ for about two years when I had a terrible row with a creative, yet highly volatile man, with whom I was trying to build a dance/theater company in New York. His harsh words stripped me bare of any illusions about my craft, my direction, my role. I left our rehearsal and walked the parking lot, sobbing, crying out to God, stripping myself of assumptions, and casting myself at the feet of Christ. That day changed my path forever.

When the heart is truly laid bare, it can happen gently with love or it can happen with wrenching pain. Often, the pain comes from our own efforts to keep the heart’s shield up, to attempt to protect ourselves.

“Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” [Psalm 24:7] For me, this verse refers to the gates and ancient doors of my heart that must be open to allow the King of glory to come in. I have to trust God will not hurt me. I have to permit entry. And only when my heart is laid bare, the doors open, can I be renewed.

I would like to report that my heart has been open the whole time since that fateful day, but it has not. In fact, each time my heart has been trashed by someone, I tend to add locks and bars to those doors. God forgive me.

Today, I am being called to begin this process once more: the unlocking of doors, the lifting up of gates, the laying bare of my inner heart again. It’s a risk. It’s always a risk. It’s another paradox: to find safety, I must be more vulnerable. So be it.

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Spiritual Languages

June 17, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

Tongues, or spiritual languages, are a mystery. Anyone who says they are not, probably hasn’t experienced them. I think it’s intriguing that a person’s spirit can both sing and speak.

I Corinthians 14:15
So what shall I do? I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind.

I’m not interested in the controversies of whether to use tongues or not or whether they are a sign of the “baptism of the Holy Spirit” or the arguments that say tongues are “no longer needed in this age.” There are books a plenty that have disgorged on these topics. But I can share something of my own experience.

I came to my faith in Christ in December, 1979. Tom, who introduced me to the Bible and challenged me to read it (which is how I came to that Truth), followed up his introduction in the ensuing months with much talk about the “baptism of the Holy Spirit.” At the time, I had no idea this was not the norm. Since I knew so little about being a follower of Christ, it didn’t seem odd that I wouldn’t know about this either. He said I simply had to ask for it in prayer, and so I did. Nothing happened. Oh well.

Then, about a week later, during prayer (and in those early months, prayer was downright fun), I found myself no longer praying in English but in Latvian, the language I grew up with as a child. Now, that may not seem like a miracle to most people, but anyone who knows about languages, knows it’s a “use or lose” situation. The less one speaks, the less one is able to speak. I had been totally disconnected from my parents’ native language. And yet, here I was, speaking fluently in prayer. I didn’t even care about “tongues” then; this was way better.

After some weeks, I discovered the Latvian was a gift of sorts and with it came a deep healing as I prayed about my father, who never did learn to speak English. Through prayer, I was able to sort out my grief, disappointment, anger, and sense of abandonment at a father who died when I was only nine years old. By praying in Latvian, I was able to speak through God to my father. I forgave my father and clearly heard my God answer, that He would never leave me or forsake me [Hebrews 13:5]. I met “the Father” part of God in a clear and significant way in those first months of my faith journey.

Days after that, the Latvian morphed into one of those mysterious “tongues.” No effort, it just happened and I reveled in it. Only in later months and years did I discover contentiousness about this phenomenon. But I never cared about those who belittled the capability. I had already experienced something authentic and meaningful and nothing would take that away from me. And since it was clear that spiritual languages are for personal growth and devotion, that was all that mattered to me. I am no more or less spiritual because of it and yet it has enriched my prayer life.

I have been in corporate settings where group singing has manifested in tongues. When it was genuine, it was quite lovely and mesmerizing. When it was forced or triggered by the determination of a leader or practiced by tradition, I found it hollow. In any event, it’s not something to be performed. Singing in the spirit is another form of personal prayer.

“. . . the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” [Romans 8:24]

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Speak! Listen! Speak!

June 16, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

Whether it’s speaking, writing, or teaching a class, it’s critical to do so authentically and to check in with the listeners, the readers, the students. Are they getting it? Are we having a conversation? It’s one reason I’ve grown tired of traditional church services: too lopsided. I need dialogue.

I Corinthians 14:11
If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and he is a foreigner to me.

I think it’s one of the reasons blogs, social networks like Facebook, Twitter, etc. are so popular. People write/talk and someone responds or leaves a comment. It’s like saying, “I hear you. I’m listening.” In some churches, this is accomplished by listener responses: “Amen” and the like, but it’s a primitive exchange. People write books and yes, we assume they love the process, but the real joy is in knowing the books are being read.

Another element is intent. Why does anyone write about God or Christ or faith (or anything else for that matter)? Why do we speak or teach? I’ve always struggled a bit with this question? I mean, there has to be a certain confidence that I have something to say. What is the balance between humility and spunk?

Teaching requires a class. Performing requires an audience. Writing requires readers. We’re back to the old Zen question, “Does a tree make a sound when it falls in the woods if no one hears it?”

Paul writes in verse 6b, “. . . what good will I be to you, unless I bring you some revelation or knowledge or prophecy or word of instruction?” What we say, what we teach, what we write, are the answers, hopefully, to the burning questions in the hearts of the people with whom we want to connect.

Mike and I encountered our favorite pastor some twenty years ago. His sermons were generally compelling but the times we liked best were Sunday nights and Wednesday nights when we could ask our questions, lots and lots of questions. We challenged him and he challenged us. The dialogue was alive and vibrant and unassuming. This was our time of greatest growth and learning.

Was it only because we were younger in our faith or was it the conversation?

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Way of Love

June 15, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

It’s a journey, the way of love. And like any journey, initially, we make a plan based on what we know in the moment, but along the way, the directions may change. There will be detours and road work. There will be fallen trees and washed out streets. But the way is still the way.

I Corinthians 14:1a
Go after a life of love as if your life depended on it—because it does. [The Message Bible]

This theme of love has bee with me now for several days and I am embracing it as best I can. But I see the challenges right away. It’s one thing to talk about love and it’s another to walk it day to day and minute to minute. Even if I choose to love, it doesn’t change the other guy. Loving in the way can be a lot of one-way streets at first. There’s a reason why Paul says in I Corinthians 13:4 that “love is patient” first. It requires all the patience in the world to love.

All of the “ways” in scripture are the same really: the way of Jesus, the way of God, the way of love. These are just words to help us understand the direction and the intent.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m on some kind of busy on ramp and a little fearful to enter the highway. Once I’m really on this way, once I commit fully, things will change. My life will change.

I am afraid of the way of the way of love.

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Love Never Fails

June 14, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

Power in the basics. There is such a simplicity to the message: love God, love others. One builds on the other. One is enhanced by the other. And along the way, the love itself creates a momentum for the ages. Love is like energy: it never disappears.

I Corinthians 13:8a, 13
Love never fails. . . . And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I know about energy intellectually, but it’s not something I think about every day. Energy is bouncing around us all the time. Energy is transformed from one state to another, always moving, morphing, or actively waiting. And so is love.

This is how love never fails. Love is resilient and creative. Love is strong and gentle. Love is comfortable in the world of paradox.

Love is the most powerful force in the universe. And instead of harnessing it, we have cheapened it with images of Valentine hearts, cupids, and “Precious Moments” figurines. We have allowed love to become sex. We have watered down the strength of love.

But it is still there. Love is still available, because love never fails. Love is not just the words. Love is a space where energy can flow back and forth. I can’t really love pizza, it’s an inanimate object.

God is love [I John 4:8]. God is light [I John 1:5]. God is energy. God cannot be destroyed. To love others is to “god” others.

If we want to introduce God to others, then we’d better start at the ground level with love. And if we’re not sure what that means, then we need to learn I Corinthians 13 by heart, ground it in the heart, move it through the heart: kindness, generosity, patience, humility, caring, calm, soothing, forgiving, unassuming, and contented.

Love is a practice.

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What Love is Not

June 13, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

I Corinthians 13:4b-6
. . . It [love] does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

If love is not these things, perhaps it’s a good idea for me to consider the antonyms. I can’t really “do” or “practice” a “NOT.” So I looked them up.

The opposite of the verb envy is to be confident or contented, to be generous and giving. Do I reflect love in this way? Is my love toward others unwavering and confident. Am I content with the love I have as well as the love I can give. Interesting though, these are actually “states of being.” I cannot practice contentment and confidence, not really. I can turn a corner and choose. And generosity comes from within. Generous giving comes from confidence and contentment. So, perhaps, “not envying” what others have is indeed the first step toward contentment.

The opposite of boasting is to be modest, quiet, and deprecating (playing down what one has). It’s not that I don’t have the “stuff” or the relationships or the love or the ability, it’s that I don’t brag about what I have. This brings to mind the “ugly American” who travels with a chip on his/her shoulder, expecting service up to certain standards. It’s an “I deserve” attitude. All of those cliches like “keeping up with the Joneses” are counter to the basics of not boasting. Our of pride in the accomplishments of our children, we often provide litany after litany of their successes, their grades, their jobs, their scores.

The opposite of rudeness is kindness, politeness, and respect. This I can practice, if I choose to do so. The more kindness I show, the more politeness, the more respect, the less rude I will seem. Politeness has gone out of favor. Our children do not recognize politeness as necessarily important. But do we realize that love requires this of us? If I love my children, I should also be kind, polite and respect them for who they are in each stage of life. It is my job to model that.

The opposite of self-seeking is similar to the opposite of envy — it’s giving, benevolent, and caring; moral and ethical. This is the essence of mindfulness of “other.” These are the traits of the humble. Really, it reminds of stepping out of costume, the selfish costume, and showing the tender center within. It’s casting off the habit of selfishness.

The opposite of anger is joy, pleasantness, calm and being soothing. I cannot practice joy, it’s a result, but I can be pleasant instead of not, I can look for my inner calm and bring it to the surface, I can be soothing to the one who is hurting. I cannot be angry if I am doing any of these other things. There is no longer room for anger.

The opposite of “not keeping a record of wrongs” must be forgetfulness, choosing to “not recall” or dismiss the offense. And of course, forgiveness. They go hand in hand.

The last antonym for “not delighting in evil” is provided for us and is a surprise: rejoicing in truth. I would have thought it would be delighting in “good,” but instead, Paul chooses truth as the powerhouse to overcome evil. I can indeed practice truth and with it, I will be able to walk away from evil and lies.

The opposite of pride is humility. And each one of these opposites is embraced in this one word. Oh Lord, I am so far. Give me courage to embrace and exercise those aspects of love that will help me evolve truth in humility.

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A Most Excellent Way

June 12, 2010 by Irmgarde Brown

It’s the “hippy” chapter: love, love, love. And yet, with all this talk of love being the most excellent way, greater than anything else, greater than faith or knowledge, it’s still missing in most of our lives.

I Corinthians 12:31b, 13:2b
And now I will show you the most excellent way . . . if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

A friend gave me Mother Teresa’s book, “In My Own Words,” which has a heavy emphasis on the love theme. Mother Teresa got it. She lived it. She taught it. And most people admired her for it but couldn’t live like her; they were amazed by her selflessness and her ability to reach out to the poorest of the poor, to actually love the unlovable. But isn’t that what Christ asks from each of us?

What would it take to become a person of love. . . to be known primarily for love?

I am still a product of my culture and my generation. We started the “me” generation and we’ve passed it to our kids. We don’t love because that exercise requires greater concern for the “other” than for self. That’s really the only hindrance.

I’d like to make this more complicated than it is and come up with all kinds of valid justifications for not loving, but there aren’t any, not really.

I get in the way. I am my own stumbling block.

My proposal for myself today: Just ask, “Is this loving? Am I speaking out of love? Am I responding to the “sacred center” of the other? Can I be generous in love?”

I want to be more conscious today. I want to be mindful. My habits, those automatic reactions, are not loving. To change, I must wake up. Look. Really look and sense. Ah! It’s prayer.

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