Thursday, October 2, 2014


Liturgy is simultaneously one of the most mundane and exciting expressions of truth. It's a true expression of the natural manifesting the supernatural. It's mystical yet it is ordinary. It repetitive yet it's creative. It's empty yet it's truth.

So why the dichotomy?

The Creation Story. The beauty of putting spirit into physical form through spoken word alone. The dark became separate from the night; order was created. The night became separate from day; time began. The ocean became separate from the land; diversity was developed. Land animals, flying animals, and animals of the sea were cast into their homes. Mankind was created in the image of the creative community of the Trinity. Definition was given to the spiritual mysteries of community, creativity and existence. The act of creation in itself was a repetitive calling forth of beauty.

"Let there be light, and there was light, and it was good."

"Let there be separation from the waters of the heavens and the waters of the earth, and there was, and it was good."

"Let there be... And there was... And it was good."

"Let there be... And there was... And it was good."

"Let there be... And there was... And it was good."

Over and over again, words create and "good" is prophesied. 

The original liturgy was more than Spirit filled, it was actually Spirit encarnet. 

Yet today there is only "Spirit filled" or "litergy." What a manachistic, graco-roman, gnostic believe. Yet the Western church holds the dichotomy dear to its heart. 

Maybe that's why I am secretly enchanted by the post-modern Christian movement. Because, in all of its own broken short-sitedness, it recognizes the mystery, it relinquishes controle, and it admits a marriage of Truths. The grey, as some call it. The relative, as it is known. But at it's heart, I believe the post-modern movement, in itself not holistically Truth, is a reaction to the poor theology of the black and white. A philosophical reaching for Absolute Truth.

The brokeness in the post-modern movement is not that it is an overly open minded and "relative" philosophy, but that it is a proclamation that the only truth is that the Truth is relative. That the grey is black and white. That to dance between natural and supernatural is the only way. That there is no black. That there is no white.

But, instead of believing herasy, what if we embraced philosophical truth as just that... A lover-of-thought's perspective on something much bigger than the thinker. What if struggling through truth (little 't') is acceptable because the thinker knows his or her place in the arms of the full Truth. What if Truth (big 'T') is personal encounter and philosophy and theology and so much more (emphasis on the 'so much more' part)? What if Truth is something or someone that cannot be defined by mans perspective of Truth, but that Truth is beyond any humanistic knowing.

Seeking to live in this mysterious zone where Truth cannot be fully defined, where I relinquish controle to say that 'black and white are absolut,' just as 'grey is absolute,' I seek to live a liturgical-Spirit filled life that knows that the Truth is absolute. A life where the Truth is bigger than what I could ever understand, and where all words are powerful and prophetic just as Spirit is powerful and encounters me. Where black exists. Where white exists. Where grey exists. Where I can experience the Truth that is bigger than me. Where I can speak out words that are seemingly simple and mundane, but that can bring forth Truth in all of its forms.

Powerful are my words. Prophetically charged. Spirit emparting. Natural. 

So, I ask, what words are I prophesying? What truths am I calling forth? What dance am I dancing, and what is my rhythm drawing forth? What truth do I follow? What truth am I speaking? How can I dance amongst the colors and how can I live my life in spiritual litergy?

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