The Latest Poem From "Violations Of Black"

Lately, I have been asking myself, "how do I leave those dark spaces people invite me into?" When people pour their souls out in a moment that has every indication it's desperate, it's painful, and it's paralyzing, how do I as the listener offer myself to listen, and yet be strong enough to be a source of dependability all while being able to separate myself from it all? I was recently counseling someone who shared with me some horrific details of what's going on with their life, and those details played on my emotions for weeks. Obviously my life is not theirs, but it was if I was living in those details because I was trusted to be there. What helps me realize that I don't have to keep pushing the play button is to simply pan back the lens, and see it for what it all really looks like. When someone is paralyzed by a trauma of the soul, I can be there, but I don't need to stay there. I can pan the lens back and see that the real possibilities to heal are grounded in hope itself. And I find this helpful for my own sense of frustration, but moreso with people who see no possible future. This poem from "Violations Of Black" definitely approaches a trauma from someone desperate enough to seek out a listener yet, the listener wants to empower the seeker to see beyond that tunnel vision and focus on what is possible.

secondary trauma

10.26.09

living with the violations and dark places of others,

the mind takes on a variable shift of emotional release.

it goes from hurt, elation, regret, to recompense.

the swirling of thought, words, and momentum take their place.

it’s as if it all comes in way too fast to safely land in the head.

it slows the pace of control into a display of disconnect replayed.

yet, the words keep coming….they don’t stop for lack of indifference.

they play out like an all too familiar horror story between

the innocent and the monstrous antagonist who wants nothing

more than to hijack trust for their own demented satisfaction.

it leaves the listener in a position of vulnerability to which

there is no viable strength on which to lean or embrace.

yet, that’s not possible nor are the defenses defiant.

others have no possible inclination of the images,

or the motivations, or the insidious reasoning people carry with them.

carrying the day to day tension between life and death,

between peace and hell, between love and hate—

it all recalibrates the inner-compass slightly so that it points inward.

the surface is broken with the things disliked to begin with,

and it all struggles to tame the depressive spiraling, day from day.

it breaks the surface to reveal the unlikable, the unspeakable,

and the irreversible scarring of fragility uncared for.

when is it permissible to allow the words to stop being heard?

when is it permissible to stop envisioning the images that are shared?

yes, to live there is to believe the secondary trauma is owned—

perhaps by the listener more so than the owner.

God forbid, the danger lies not so much in listening to it all,

but believing it’s all up for grabs, to be sold to the less fortunate,

or to be sold off to the less faithful who disavow the power of forgiveness.

the listener is left to hold onto the pieces, the fractures of another person

who trusts just enough to invite and share the macabre and grotesque.

it’s as if the momentary is invited to be become a permanent fixture,

rearing the ugliness inherent in its structure from beginning to end.

but by some chance or fate, the silence topples the conversation

and it exists as nothing more than a pile of ruins with shards of emotion

or broken concentration fallen from the many lips too tired to speak or cry.

desperation lingers strong in the thick of temporary amounts of time…

answers simply do not appear by way of bearing the soul’s pain.

but the balms of empathy and compassion appear from nowhere

and with their purpose, they drench the weary to feel again.

isn’t that the time honored necessities for hope to take shape once again?

from such darkness, hope is the only light that points a way out…

it is the only choice that makes sense in a senseless battle for the wits end.

hope for all its purpose and intent, is defiant in the face of possible surrender.

it’s very power to believe is reason enough to hold on for a better day.

the enemy seeking vengeance in the mind is released to die.

hope in the darkest of place and in the violation of spirit,

lives in the wide open wonder, questioning how much can one take?

hope becomes the only strength to decide here is where it ends…

here is where life begins with optimism in spite of such odds.

life is lived another day and that in itself is beautiful.

Another installment from "Violations Of Black."

I wrote this poem at the end of last year. Most of this stuff comes pouring out of me at an alarming rate in order to finish one poem. It's rare now to actually sit and write a few of these, without overthinking and analyzing what it is that's going into it. Yet, I find that when I do write these, they are another way for me to express obviously, the inner parts of myself that for some reason, I cannot relate to in personal conversation with anyone. Most of the images come from a place within me that I might not be all that comforted by, or am most comfortable with. But, I figure part of the creative process for me to truly write as I do, is to color words to a point that lead somewhere, but leave enough room for people to interpret how they need to. Anyway, here is one of the latest poems from "Violations Of Black."

not i and never me

12.02.08

i can’t see the blindness in front of me;

believe the darkness - whole or not?

to not crush the dread or fear;

bound to unreason of what I believe—

treason!

if I faded into the years of time,

how would my convictions

stand for me on their own?

i can’t hear the lies outside of me!

they push their edges of pursuit

into my eardrums and pupils dilated.

i grip and grasp for a sound mind

and a young body to exist from.

the dirt around me begs me

to grab onto the fallen blood drops;

running from my abused heart.

yet, the frantic balance of life

between death begins to suffocate.

i dream of sensation when all

sounds become silent.

my eyes shut out the scenery,

and my hands open wide

to feel air on my fingers.

the inflammation of my serenity

dies without warning—

i can’t see the blindness in front of me;

but I can feel the hatred

tightly consume the shards

of what’s left of my faith.

the ransom called my life

has not paid for what i assume—

chases me through moments

of happiness and confidence.

the ground cries out for my fingers

to grasp it ever so gently—

the blood lies waiting in drops;

waiting for coagulation.

perhaps the death and life

of wounded faith marks a man—

forever!

what is that open handed destiny?

what is that knowledge of choice?

I do know…

answers come from

not i, but who was!

Spiritual Desert: Part Two

As it's been since February since I wrote the last entry in the saga that is my spiritual desert, things have somewhat progressed as I am finding some renewed energy and direction as to what and where God might be leading me, namely out of the desert and into the life that He wants for me. As I am being led out of the desert, I have experienced that dependency on Him as I never have, and yet all that has done has created more questions and more intuitive sketches as to what it all looks like. Since last February, creativity as come and gone, leveled out, and come back for about a month, and is now circling around my calendar doing touch and goes here and there, but feels inconsistent. The throttle has been pushed forward, and the church's afterburners are turning and burning and we just started for the year. Yet, there are events and ministries I am excited to see take shape and hopefully be blessed to grow and be important for people in their own spiritual deserts or wherever they may be in their lives. I stand on the edge of desert and see this beginning to happen around me.

What's been a huge part of the journey for me into and out of the desert is trying to become more in touch with who I am, and why I am. Over the past couple years, I have changed for the better by releasing anger, letting go, not being consumed by resentment or lack of forgiveness. I have done some gut-wrenching work to be able to stand in the pulpit as one who is working on the very issues of life that I am calling people to examine for themselves. The consistency needs to be honest as to who I say I am. If I say I am a follower of Jesus, am I pursuing that life in examination of who I am, what are my motivations, how do I continue to live as a man of integrity for my family and for my church, how can I live a life of faith and not claim it as my own and all the opportunities that come with it all? See, many people want the Christian name only...it somehow makes them feel good. Yet, who asked the poignant question, "What's in a name?" Claiming to be Christian without accepting the opportunities or the choices for life that come with it, is wanting the free meal, but not honoring the dinner host.

I was sitting in a bible study yesterday, and this very idea came up in conversation: where God invites everyone to the come and celebrate with Him the life lived in the kingdom of God. Matthew 22:11-14 gives us this disturbing and very real picture of a person who comes to the wedding feast (the groom being Jesus, the bride being the church) where the king (God) is throwing a celebration, where all people are invited to present their best out of who they are. Yet, there is one man who comes without a proper wedding robe on. Like today, Jews at the time, would wear ceremonial outer garments (wedding robe) as an outward sign of celebration, love, and respect. It was their version of the tuxedo. This man shows up in ripped-up jeans with holes in the crotch and rear, wearing a Poison t-shirt ready to party. The king asks the man, "Friend, how is it that you are here without wedding clothes?" The man says nothing in response. The king is so offended by this man's lack of care by not even trying in the slightest to come and give his best, than he has him bound and thrown out into the streets. All this man cared about was receiving a free meal. He wasn't there to honor the king nor was he there to celebrate the union of Christ to his church...he was there for himself, and didn't care about anyone else regardless if he was invited or not. Needless to say, I don't want my life to be an examination of indifference to the One who invites me out of the desert and into the celebration that IS my life He gave me.

Standing on the edge of the desert with my back to it, is realizing that I don't need to live there. That desert does not define me. It does not weigh me down. It cannot kill me. It cannot paralyze me, and it cannot stop me from moving ahead. For me, it's coming out of that desert a wiser person and making choices that live aligned with the character and integrity of Christ himself. Maybe this search and struggle and eventual victory out of the desert, is necessary for me to be clear about the Spirit's prompting in my life. Because for me, coming to terms with that prompting has never come easy at a moment's notice. I have had to work at it, discern it, and spend some time seeking out advice from those amazing people around me who I consider truth-tellers; those people who aren't afraid to offer their observations and musings. I have found that when I try and make the journey by myself, that's when I get into trouble and look around and see no one else with me. That's when I begin to make choices that are not consistent with who I say I am. And that's not who God calls me to be. God calls me to live out of that desert experience as one who knows a dependency on Him, seeking His wisdom and counsel for my life, along with the people He knows are going to love me and tell me the truth even when it hurts. Because God knows as I do, my life as well as my salvation is at stake.

Right now, there is new direction, a new sense of drive, a sense of energy in my faith and my life that I haven't had in a while. And I think it's because I know what my life feels like and how it's lived without God or without looking to Him for guidance. I don't want that, and God doesn't want that for me either. God wants my life to be centered in His Son, for me to offer my best into the church so that others may be changed or blessed. Not that I have the be all end all power to change people, but that from the experiences I have, I offer those in a shared commonality of our work in progress to become the people God is changing us to be. Maybe, just maybe, people can see how God works in me, and that might allow them to look into themselves to see God working in them. Then again, maybe we all need is to get ourselves into the desert, for us to come out the other side, changed, renewed, cleansed and resurrected! Once we have been there, we may just become even more tuned into God's presence as He was there in the desert with us the entire time. The question is: Did we notice Him? How many deserts do we have to be in before we take notice of God and begin to look to Him for strength as He accompanies us out of them? How long will we stand there in those deserts before we give up trying to make it out on our own, raise up our hands, and surrender? Those deeply placed imprints of my feet are still in that sand, but I am no longer there. Thank you God!

Spiritual Desert: Part One

I recently was meeting with a woman whose life is out of control. She is a recovering alcoholic, is the mother of three children, and is currently finalizing a divorce from her husband of 18 years. She is in a very fragile place right now. She is lonely, confused, hurt, and angry that her life has taken this unexpected detour. Let's face it...no one enters into a marriage with the understanding that divorce will be the inevitable outcome. When a marriage ends, both people experience the same kinds of emotions as when a loved one dies. The feeling of loss and grief is the same thing. For this woman I listened to, she feels like she has spent so much time and energy fighting this battle alone and without God around her. It's as if she is in the desert all by herself, trying to survive by her own will power and strength. What she admitted to me the other day was, she has finally come to the conclusion that she cannot do it anymore and she is desperate for God.

Life has to be difficult and without too many options to be desperate enough to seek out a dependence on God. I know too many people who live life on their own terms, pretending to believe that if they just believe in themselves hard enough, they can get through any circumstance in life on their own. In a sense, they have given up on the institutional church because they refuse to believe that there just might be a community of people who loves each other enough to accompany anyone who has need through any choice, challenge, or compromise life throws at them. There are actually people who choose to love each other enough, walking with each other so life does not become a desert place? YES! I know some of my skeptical brothers and sisters are tuned into their own cognitive and philosophical know how to try and reason that the goodness of each other is not exactly dependent on belonging to a community centered around Christ. They would have me believe that there are inherently good people without the need to be Jesus followers to be the pre-requisite in order to help anyone. Being good does not necessarily and automatically make one empathetic, compassionate, forgiving, or loving. There are many good people who choose to believe in the values of humanity rather than be informed and inspired by the values of the kingdom of God. Those values teach that living life is not ego-centric. Ego-centricity is relying on your own intelligence to somehow find fulfillment and value in what you make of life. The focus is on what we do.

Being in a desert place may be the result of choices we made. Perhaps we find ourselves there because we made some poorly thought out choices. We just didn't see the ramifications of our living, and so we find out just how desperate we are when we stand in that desert. Perhaps we find ourselves in the desert because of no choice of our own, but rather choices were made on our behalf and we are now there. I think of people who lose a job - are they in the desert because they want to be there? Only if they were an inefficient employee. But, most people who lose a job may find themselves there, not ready to be there, because that journey was not expected. However we find ourselves in that spiritual desert, we are there. We can stay there, be angry at God for what we think is His mistake and turn our backs on Him only to stay there living in isolation, desperation, and confusion. Or we can meet God face to face in the desert we are standing in.

See, I do not believe being a spiritual desert is a bad thing. I believe we are there for a reason. As I type this, I feel right now in my life, as if I am there. I do not know how I got here, but since Christmas, I have been feeling a bit tapped out, tired, just empty of ideas, and not all that sure about how effective I am as a pastor. That's my own self-assessment talking I know. I would be worried if I never questioned my abilities, confidence, or competence while on the job. There are too many arrogant pastors already out there who never worry, trust me. But, for some reason, I am there. Is my desperation for God any different than the woman I talked to? Not really. We are both looking for strength, nourishment, and hope. Perhaps I will recover some day, find my way out of this place, and drink from the cool waters of confidence, enjoyment, future, and creativity again. BTW, if you want to know what the book is above, check out Soul Survivor by Mike Pilavachi...an amazing read. I am reading it again, and right now, feel like I need to read it and be reminded that somehow, a desert can create a greater dependence on God. That's my hope.

Suicide, Salvation, and the Church!

Recently, I got an email from a friend of mine who was curious about what a church's response might be in offering a funeral for a suicide. She asked me because a friend of a family that friend knows, whose daughter took her own life, approached a roman catholic church who refused to offer a funeral service for them. The church denied them a chance to celebrate that loved ones life! Now, in my experience, I have had to bury people under the most tragic of circumstances. The second funeral I ever had to perform was for a business man who was severely depressed and ended his life with a twelve gauge. What was tragic about his life is that he had everything a man could ever want or need in this life, yet he chose the ending of it. As tragic or as expected as they may be, funerals are meant to be a time in which families can be comforted in their suffering by and through the hope of Jesus Christ who defeated the last enemy, that being death itself. People need to be surrounded with hope and compassion. People want to be comforted no matter what the circumstances of death may be.

In the case of a suicide, the church ought to respond as it would for any death. Offer a funeral in the name of Jesus Christ, preaching the resurrection of hope and life. When churches refuse or restrict a family in their grief by not offering a funeral for their loved one who died by their own hands, that church is not living as the church. It is not being the church. The church should be a community who gathers together to offer life, comfort, grace, and forgiveness among each other. The church should be the type of community where people can grieve their loss without having the added burden of feeling like that church is unable to welcome them because the church cannot deal with such a taboo subject like suicide. When churches write themselves into a corner by how many restrictions they place between themselves and a grieving family, they are behaving as modern day Pharisees: people who would rather pay more attention to the details of what's right and correct, than what's compassionate and needed. When churches care more about the details of who belongs and who does not in life and in death, the church is nothing but a gate-keeping organization of people who think they know what's better for the sake of others. I'm fairly certain churches who behave this way, do nothing but piss God off! Hey churches, do you not know that as soon as you encircle those who are in and who are out, Jesus Christ will always be on the other side of that circle?

Obviously, the hesitation for churches in not offering a funeral for a suicide, is based on the entire notion of salvation. When salvation is only seen as something we can accomplish through our own means as if we can achieve salvation, we deny God's initiation to save us first. We deny the action of God as if God is somehow removed from the whole promise of salvation to begin with. Yes, I believe we live lives of faith to become more like Jesus Christ. We live to be more like who he is as opposed to not fitting more Jesus into our lives. To live as a follower of Jesus is to live the marks of discipleship in a way that not only changes who we are, but betters the world around us by being the people God designed us to be. We do respond to the love of God yes, but to receive salvation entirely by our own merit, is to base salvation on what is referred to as "works." Martin Luther called it works righteousness (this topic is one of the reasons why protestants and roman catholics differ, and this added to the reason to split from the RC church some 500 years ago...thank God in my opinion). As if based on our merit alone, we can earn salvation. Again, it denies the action of God.

Salvation is offered to all people in this life yes. But is salvation guaranteed after death regardless of how a person lived? None of us should pretend to know that specific answer, since none of us as ever experienced that. Maybe how we answer that question, it's becomes a matter of what our experience of God is during our lifetimes. If we see a God who is judgmental and rigid about order and the details in life, then we will see salvation the same way. We make salvation out to look like us. If we see God as a God of compassion, love, forgiveness and grace which is God's unmerited favor, we then have a chance don't we? Anyone of us can be loved in life and I believe even in death. Isn't that the point of the resurrection? To prove to anyone that life is not found on a cross, but in an empty tomb. An empty tomb proves how much God loves us even after death because death is defeated! We believe in Jesus Christ because of the empty tomb. Had he not rose from the dead, we would not not be talking about Jesus. He would be just another silenced rabbi the Jewish authorities silenced and the Roman state killed under the sentence of political subversion. Yet, because he broke the bonds of death and rose, he opened the way of life for all people, people who believe in their hearts that he is alone the savior of the world. That does not mean that getting it right, is necessary! In fact, most faithful people I know are the opposite. They are the most gritty, colorful, outspoken, brutally honest, questioning people I know. They are full of doubt, and for them, faith is about a journey because as they understand, faith seeks understanding. Faith does not assume it.

I think it's sad when people who should know better look to the rule-book first, denying a person the chance to celebrate the life of their loved one. I think it's sad when hierarchy assumes they know just how salvation works in life and in death. Frankly, to assume that is to play God. And I in no way shape or form am ever comfortable in assuming I know God well enough to BE HIM! I work for Him, but am not Him. He has final say. I do not. I will do what I can on this earth with the time I have to do what I believe he wants me to do. To offer His love to all people, and in the name of His son Jesus Christ, offer forgiveness, preach, teach, offer communion, and promote and live as best as I can, a life of grace for myself, my family, and the people I serve. I am just a man trying to do what I can, and through my gifts God gave me, I try to live so that others may find that being in relationship with God is the best possible way to live. And once I die, my life and death is in God's hands. And I would like to believe that the promise of the resurrection, the eternal life that Jesus opened the way to, is given to me as it is for each person Jesus Christ rose for. Maybe, some might say I am way too universalist about this...that ALL people are saved through Jesus. That kind of belief voids our participation in faith as if it's all for nothing. But faith comes out of a trusting and reliant heart that tries as best as it can be, to be in relationship with this Jesus-shaped God. I don't think faith is worthless. Faith is a beautiful motivation for us to believe, to trust, and to rely on the love of a God who is a constant presence, a friend, and a counselor, and a Father. For that faith I seek, I am thankful. Besides, I would rather be just a tad bit universalist in trusting all people are given salvation, than in trying to pretend I know who rightfully earns it and who does not. And if I'm wrong, well at least I had hope in the resurrection during this life as best as I could muster it. That's given me joy and strength to live my life brand new each day. For that alone, I thank God. More later...