Wandering from the Wesleyan Way??

“In essentials unity; in non-essentials, charity, and in all things love”.

This quote has been attributed to John Wesley[1].  It is indeed emblematic of other things that Wesley said, how he lived, and how the people called Methodists have tried to function throughout the intervening centuries.  It reflects our desire to try to give room for diversity in our ranks and, in essence, keep the list of essentials short. 

I wonder if we 21^st century Methodists have lost our way and need to be reminded of the gem of wisdom contained in the quote above.  

I fear that we United Methodists[2] often major in the minors of our faith while missing the mark pretty badly on some of the majors? 

Case and point, consider what unfolded in Tampa, FL from April 24–May 4, 2012, as we gathered for our General Conference meeting.   It can truly be said that we Methodists are a "People of the Book"—namely the Book of Discipline.  Any changes to our Discipline arise from the deliberations of General Conference.  Every four years, delegates from all over the world gather to worship, pray together, and  seek out the Holy Spirit’s direction on where God calls our denomination to go over the next quadrennium. 

With Twitter and Facebook streams flowing non-stop, this was one of the most "visible" General Conferences ever.   I wasn't a delegate, but like many millions of others around the world, I was able to watch live as the proceedings were broadcast live on the Internet via streaming video. 

As I watched, I couldn't help but feel that the delegates at this year's General Conference were wandering from the Wesleyan Way.  They seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time debating matters that appeared obvious and not enough on some matters that really needed serious debate.  

For example, there was a huge debate over the extent or reach of God’s love?  Really?! Isn’t that an essential we can all agree on without lengthy debate? Apparently not! When a proposal came up that sought to include Paul’s statement from Romans 8:38-39 that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, to a revised preamble to our “United Methodist Social Principles”[3], considerable debate ensued.  In the end the proposal passed, and the 2012 Book of Discipline will be updated accordingly.  However, the result of the vote would suggest that 44% of the delegates in that room—who are chosen to represent a cross-section of United Methodists around the world—seem to question whether nothing can separate us from God’s love, or at least they wouldn’t want to go so far as to put it in writing.  Rather alarming!

Not only do we debate matters that don’t seem to require debate, we also bog down what would seem to be non-essentials.  Case and point, the delegates debated a proposal to chang Lay Speaking to Lay Ministry—arguing that the ministry involves much more than “speaking”.  Now I am a Certified Lay Speaker and I agree that lay speaking is much more than "speaking"; so I didn’t really object to changing the name to be more inclusive, if that was the consensus of the body.  On the other hand, I didn’t think it needed such a lengthy debate!  We didn't need to bog down in Robert’s Rules of Order, with Amendments and Amendments-to-the-Amendment, as we debated minutiae for several hours.  All the while I kept thinking:  “A rose by any other name…” 

Another issue with much more far-reaching impact is one that seems to come up at every General Conference—that of proposed changes to our Discipline on the matter of homosexuality. This has been an issue that has generated intense debate and division not just for United Methodists, but for many—if not all—Christians. Clearly, some believe this issue is essential and thus aren’t willing to compromise their point of view.  In fact, some become so entrenched in their view they feel they threaten to “separate” from those who disagree with them on this issue[4].  For them to even admit that others among their ranks do not share their opinion seems to be a threat to the "sanctity" of our denomination.

I can’t help but wonder: Is it time to call their bluff?  Is it more important to make it clear that we the people called Methodist desire to extend God’s love to as many as possible or to appease those already “inside our doors” to keep up an illusion of unity and peace in our denomination?

But for now, at least, the status quo prevails and the language of our Discipline will remain unchanged in 2012. United Methodists, it seems, have once more opted to keep “peace” in their ranks—even if it is an illusory peace[5].  Not only did the delegates at General Conference reject any notion of changing the language currently in our Discipline; they also rejected a minority view (put forth by pastors Adam Hamilton and Mike Slaughter) that would have acknowledged that faithful United Methodists differ on this issue and recognized that a growing number of United Methodists (particularly youth and young adults) do not see homosexuality as, “incompatible with Christian teaching” and feel increasingly disenfranchised by our current position. 

So not only will we keep the "exclusive" language in our Discipline but we won't even acknowledge the growing minority who no longer share this view, many of whom have chosen or will choose to leave our denomination—seeking a place that values their voice and does not prevent them living out the full expression of who God has created them to be.

On the other hand, there were matters that clearly seemed worthy of rigorous debate that were passed over.  There was a proposal this year to do away with guaranteed appointments for our Elders—clergy who have gone to seminary.  Now, you would think that surely the body would give this matter due diligence.  You would be wrong!  This matter was quietly shunted to the consent calendar.  That means it was packaged with an assortment of other “non-controversial” legislative proposals that the delegates agree to approve en masse to free up time more lengthy debate of other matters. In practical terms, this means that the delegates give up their right to engage in debate on these issues.

It took a while for the delegates to realize what had happened, but of course, eventually, someone did.  They gathered the required signatures and bought a petition to the table that sought to reopen debate over this issue; but the proposal was dismissed over a technicality.  One of the signatures was deemed to be a duplicate—which invalidated the entire petition. There was no opportunity given to correct this.

And so, just like that, Elders (like my wife) have lost the certainty of an appointment.  While this should not impact established clergy in good standing, it certainly sends shockwaves through the system that has been in place for years.  Young people considering going to seminary may think twice if—even after going through the grueling educational demands required—they will have no guarantee of a job at the end.  Established clergy feel betrayed.  After years of serving faithfully, they feel as if the “rules” have suddenly changed”—and they weren’t even given a chance to voice their opinion.

While most agree that there is a need to “weed out” ineffective clergy, one has to question the wisdom of going about it this way.  Whether or not this is the intent, it is inevitable that some will perceive this as an attempt to consolidate power by the Episcopacy.  While Bishops seem to have very few limits placed on them (e.g., a proposal that would have imposed term limits on Bishops failed to get enough votes) clergy must now “measure up” or they could find themselves out of work. 

This move to end guaranteed appointments opened up a veritable Pandora’s Box of “questions” about how this new policy will be enacted and implemented, and yet there was no opportunity given to discuss these concerns before this controversial proposal was enacted.

I suppose only time will tell how this new policy will play out in practice but one can clearly see the potential for abuse of Episcopal power here.  This perception could have been avoided by simply allowing for more debate over what seems like an essential matter to how we function as United Methodists.

United Methodists take pride in our unity; we claim we desire to practice  unconditional love in our churches. However, it seems to me that some of the actions (by that I mean the legislation we actually enacted or, in many cases, failed to enact) taken by the 2012 General Conference could have the exact opposite effect—creating more division and dissension in our ranks and continuing to exclude certain groups from full participation in our fellowship.

And so, as the dust settles from General Conference 2012 and the delegates return to their respective Annual Conferences, where do we stand?  I feel that we the people called United Methodists should admit that we still have much to learn.  We should commit to keep “moving on toward perfection,” stretching ourselves out of our comfort zones, and becoming all that we are capable of being in Christ.  We must agree to disagree, to keep wrestling together in with these hard issues in our local churches.  We must pray for boldness to stand up for what we believe, willingness to compromise, openness to the views of others, and humility to respect those who see things differently than us. 

Most of all, we should reaffirm our founders vision and vow to remain united in essentials, diverse in non-essentials, and—most importantly—unified in our mutual love for God and our neighbors on this planet we call home. 

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[1] There seems to be debate on where this originated; it may go back as far as Augustine in the 4^th century.

[2] I’m focusing on United Methodists here, but I think we could probably substitute any denomination here—or just use the word “Christians.”

[3] Interesting account of this at: lisaschubert.blogspot.com/2012/05/much-ado-about-nothing.html. 

[4] Homosexuality is but one of these “hot-button” issues that create such strong opinions that people can and do separate over it. 

[5] See Jeremiah 6:14, 8:11; Ezekiel 13:10.

Happy Fourth Birthday Becca May!

Four years ago yesterday I met this little girl for the first time—see photo.  We had a fun day with a party at her Daycare with all her friends and then a dinner out with her Pop and Granaddie (my parents).  She fell asleep on Mom and Dad's bed last night having thoroughly enjoyed her big day!

I had no clue then what it would be like to have a daughter—especially having had no sisters growing up.  But Becca has shown me the way. She wrapped her tiny fingers around my heart from day one and has taught me what I needed to know.  She's definitely "daddy's little girl" and, though she demands much energy she also gives it; I can't imagine life without her.

Laurie and I also remembered her sister Hope Marie today... as it is also her birthday.   While we try to put the focus on life and celebration of Becca on her birthday, there is no denying the bittersweet reality of the day for us as we remember the daughter who isn't here to celebrate another year of life.  While most have forgotten Hope we, her parents, certainly, haven't.  We plan a trip to Calvert County tomorrow to remember her... 

Reflecting on the Rock

We often chastise Peter for his reaction when Jesus stooped to wash his feet on Holy Thursday, but I can’t help but think that every person in that room felt the same way when they watched their Teacher and friend of the past three years stripping down to his undergarments and stooping to serve them. No doubt they all were shocked at what they witnessed. If anyone in that room should be washing feet, it certainly shouldn’t be Jesus!

I sometimes think that Peter gets a bad rep because, unlike some of the others, in this situation and others recorded in the Gospels, he tended to speak first and ask questions later. (Witness his reaction during the Transfiguration—in a moment that transcends spoken words, Peter just couldn’t keep his mouth shut!) But I tend to imagine that Jesus liked that quality in Peter. Yes, he could be impulsive and rash, yes, it might get him into trouble at times, but Peter was also bold and courageous—willing to step out when others held back. (Witness Peter’s walking on water while the others stayed in the boat as well as the way in which Peter does not hesitate to enter the empty tomb on Easter Morning.) Jesus needed a person with exactly the qualities that Peter possessed to accomplish what needed to be done.

Jesus once called Peter, the Rock, on which he would build the church. It’s been suggested that in our modern parlance Jesus might have referred to Peter as Rocky. This of course brings to mind the series of Rocky movies featuring fighter Rocky Balboa. Rocky was famous for being able to take a beating and keep getting back up, for being the undersized fighter who, against all odds—and with lots of training and dedication—triumphs over the toughest foes.

The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get it and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done! —Rocky Balboa

Somehow, I picture Peter as being similar to Rocky. (I don’t know if he’s quite the same physical specimen as Sylvester Stallone was back in the day, but I do picture him as a rugged fisherman who was probably in good shape.) Peter would take a lot of “hits” along the way as he followed Jesus; he would make his share of mistakes—which the Gospels document. Regardless, from the moment Jesus saw him casting his nets along the Sea of Galilee, Jesus knew he wanted Cephas, whose name he changed to Peter—which means “rock”. Why?

I suspect it’s because Jesus knew Peter was tough—and I’m not just talking physical toughness, though he certainly might have been. No, just like Rocky, Peter’s toughness goes deeper. He’s tough emotionally and, even more, he’s tough spiritually. Jesus says that even the gates of Hell won’t triumph over him.

Nevertheless, in the next 48 hours, Jesus knew that life was going to hit Peter harder than ever. Given time, Peter would recover and keep moving forward. In the end Peter would be a winner. But on Holy Thursday night, Peter fails Jesus in every way a person can fail. As he cowers in the darkness denying he knows Jesus, Peter seems anything but tough, anything but strong. He’s protecting his own hide; he doesn’t want to be recognized as one of the twelve. The man who hours ago arrogantly claimed he would never abandon Jesus, now denies that he knows him and flees the scene, leaving Jesus alone to face his fate.

Any rock can be changed (when they do we call them metamorphic rocks); but it usually requires being buried underground and subjected to pressure and heat. In the case of Peter—the Rock—Holy Week is the impetus for change. Living through the betrayal, the arrest, the trial, the denial, the abandonment, the crucifixion, the burial—and most importantly—the resurrection, is the crucible that supplies the “pressure” and “heat” that are needed to strengthen the Rock for the next chapter of his own ministry.

By the time we meet Peter on the day of Pentecost, he has begun to “get it”; he has had some time to reflect and starts to understand how all he has lived through was exactly what Jesus predicted. The arrogance and impulsiveness that so defined him in the Gospels begin to fade and the boldness and courageousness that characterize him in Acts start to move to the forefront. Peter does not change overnight; transformation takes time. I suspect he probably never fully loses the rash, impulsive tendencies. The less desirable qualities are part of what makes Peter the unique person God created him to be. But God redeems those qualities and uses them for his glory.

I wonder if this insight can help us when we face crucibles in our own life? Do we face difficult circumstances that there’s no way around? Are we buried under challenging life circumstances? Are we under pressure? Are we taking heat? When we face challenges we have a choice: We can lament about them or we can learn from them. Speaking from experience, I’d say I usually do a little of both; I think the key is being open to learning even as we lament. That seems to be what happened with Peter. He was devastated by his failure in the moment, but he eventually learned a great deal from his experience.

Peter’s example reminds us that—if we let them—the difficulties and hardships we live through can actually change us, strengthen us, and equip us for the unique role that God needs us to fulfill.

The Towel Proceeds the Cross...

Tonight is Holy Thursday. One of the scenes we often recall on this night is the scene in John’s gospel where Jesus, knowing this will be in final time with his disciples, wants to set the tone for what lies ahead. He knows the fate that awaits him… and the fate that awaits them, and he wants to try and prepare them as best he can. He will tell them many things in their time together about what will happen in the coming days—John 14–16. (As is clear from their reactions, they do not understand it all in that moment; it is only later, when it all plays out just as Jesus says, that they begin to piece it together.) He will pray for himself, for them, and for the world—John 17. And then he will lead them forth to face his fate—John 18–19. But before all that, however, Jesus becomes the living embodiment of what he is about to teach them—John 13 (esp vv 1-15).

The prelude to Christ’s suffering on the cross to save all of humanity is his picking up a towel and stooping to serve those he loved.

After the meal was over, Jesus shocks his followers by stooping to do the job that even the lowliest servant tried to avoid. The weather in Palestine is hot and dry, the streets of Jerusalem were not paved, and the footwear of that day did not cover the feet. Make no mistake that what Jesus was about to do was a dirty task that no one wanted to be the one stuck with. Yet, Jesus voluntarily does it. He strips himself of his outer clothing (perhaps a foreshadowing of all that he will soon be “involuntarily” stripped of?) and stoops to wash his disciples feet. As he puts back on his clothes, and they pick their jaws up off the floor, Jesus doesn’t miss the teachable moment.

Jesus tells the disciples that if they want to be his followers, they must follow him in every way—and that means they too must stoop to serve one another, and stoop to serve the world.

Every time I read this passage and I hear Jesus say, “For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you,” it challenges me. I am by nature pretty me-focused and service forces you to be other-focused—whether the other is your spouse, your children, your parents, your friends, your co-workers, etc. You have to put their agenda on par with your own, and that requires sacrifice, and sacrifice is by its very nature, hard. Service is not something that tends to come naturally to us; it’s something we have to practice.

On Holy Thursday we get a chance to practice service. When we participate in foot-washing or hand-washing, we reenact Jesus’ example and intentionally stoop to serve others. Often, we do this in pairs. To have another person wash my hands is always a humbling experience. Likewise, to have someone else allow me to serve them this way requires trust and vulnerability on the part of that person, and is always very moving.

Now consider what this night must have been like for the disciples, what it would feel like to have the hands of the Lord of Creation wash your feet? It’s almost beyond comprehension; I can sympathize with Peter’s reaction to it all.

Consider too that those same hands that so tenderly washed the disciples feet in the Upper Room would, in just a few short hours, be bruised and broken as Jesus endured torture, first at the home of the High Priest, and especially during his time with Pilate. (Luke says that Herod got in on the act as well!) These same beautiful hands that stooped to serve on Thursday would be stretched out on a cross and nailed into place on Friday. Jesus’ hands—and in fact, his entire body—would be broken to heal our brokenness—i.e., so that all of creation might be made whole and holy again. But that is getting ahead of ourselves.

It’s important to remember that the original disciples didn’t necessarily know that Easter was coming. (Scripture can sometimes make it seem like they did, but I simply don’t think that is true.) For them, the Last Supper was very somber, and the turn of events was unexpected; the events that followed were downright gut-wrenching, as they watched the man they called teacher and friend for three years betrayed, arrested, and subjected to torture, culminating in one of the most brutal forms of execution ever invented at the hands of their oppressors and enemies—the Romans.

Make no mistake, for tonight, and for the next 48 hours, from the disciple’s perspective, it appeared that the “bad guys” have won, and darkness reigns.

Part of our problem, perhaps, is that more than 2000 years later, we know how this story ends and, naturally, we tend to want to rush to the “good” part. That’s understandable, but we need to resist that urge. I think it takes something away from our experience of Easter if we rush to the end of the story, or worse yet, skip over the darkness entirely and simply show up on Easter Morning when Christ is risen and all seems hopeful and light-filled.

We need to let ourselves spend some time in the darkness of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. We need to contemplate how it would have felt to not know how this story was going to end. Then the startling news of the empty tomb and the light of Easter Morning will shine out all the more!

Holy Week: When the Fool Became the Hero

I have been pondering the irony of the convergence of the secular and liturgical calendars this year. This year, April Fools Day and Palm Sunday—the start of Holy Week—are the same day. To some, especially political and religious leaders in Jerusalem, Jesus and his band of followers marching into Jerusalem must have seemed like fools... especially to Pilate and his well organized Roman legions. When they saw Jesus, all they could perceive was a threat to their status that needed to be eliminated.

We see this illustrated in the exchange between Pilate and Jesus during his so-called trial—see John 18–19. Pilate simply doesn't "get" Jesus. (For that matter neither does Caiaphas or Herod.) He claims to be a King, but Pilate simply can't wrap his brain around the kind of King that is standing before him. He doesn't "look the part," so Pilate concludes he must be a fool. To Pilate, anyone who challenges the authority of Caesar is clearly fool-hearty—and guilty of treason.

On the other hand, the "crowds" that the Gospel writers (especially Mark) say often gathered around Jesus throughout his ministry seemed to "get" Jesus. It is most likely that these were the same people that lined the road and spread palm branches as Jesus road toward Jerusalem on a donkey that day. The majority of these folks were not people in power; they did not benefit from the status quo of the Pax Romana. These people were eager to welcome Jesus as a hero, and perhaps this made them more willing to believe that he was their long-awaited Messiah. They were ordinary people willing to, if you will, put their faith in a “fool.” They needed to hope for something better and Jesus clearly gave them that.

Paul says the Gospel will seem like "foolishness" to those who don't believe—people like Pilate, Herod, Caiaphas, and to some degree, even Jesus’ own disciples! He also describes himself as a "fool for Christ.” Paul suggests that those who have Christ in them discover an entirely new way of living is really possible in this world. Jesus came to demonstrate that Way, and was so convinced of its reality that he was willing to die for it.

On Saturday however, Jesus truly looks the part of a fool—and a dead one at that—but by Sunday, everything changes.

On Friday night it looks like everything has failed and nothing has changed, but incredibly by Sunday Morning, the stone is removed, the tomb is empty, and Christ is risen! In the Resurrection, we find out Jesus wasn't so foolish after all. Humanity's worst is once and for all overcome by heaven's best. The fool becomes the hero; the hero becomes the fool. It is the Great Reversal that is the basis of our faith.

Moving Toward My Call

As of July 1, my wife Laurie has been reappointed to Good Shepherd UMC in Waldorf[1]. That means our family will be moving from our present home in Southeast Baltimore to Charles County. Overall, I think this is a good move for a lot of reasons. We think the church will be a good one for my wife to pastor; it seems to be vital congregation with good worship, lots of children and youth, and a variety of outreach ministries. We think the kids can attend daycare at the church (with over 200 children!) and get into a good school system in Charles County, which is a definite plus. We will be closer to both Laurie’s mom and my parents—all of whom are over 75 at this point—and we will also be closer to other family members.

Moving places us in an uncomfortable space between two communities—beginning to disengage from one but not yet part of the other. It is a stressful time!

On one hand, we still live in our present community where my wife will serve her current parish for three more months, but on the other our family must begin to plan for and anticipate life in a new community and at a new church. We’ve already met representatives of our new church and begun to search for a place to live—we’re excited that for the first time we can be homeowners! Even as we conclude our time in Baltimore, begin to say goodbye to longtime friends in our churches, and try to finish well, it is inevitable that we begin to peer over the horizon, and try to sneak glimpses of what things will be like on the “other side” in Waldorf—and prepare to greet that new reality as best we can. We aren’t ready to go there quite yet—but on the other hand, July 1 will be here before you know it!

As challenging as it is for us to make this move, we strongly believe God calls us to do it at this time. Obviously, the Bishop and Cabinet have discerned that this is where Laurie should go. So in one sense, this move definitely is “for her”—i.e., a career advancement and new ministry opportunity for Laurie that necessitates our move.

But the other night as I stood up and gazed at the vastness of space and thought about the future that lies ahead for us I heard God say: This move is for you Alan. When I shared that with my wife the next evening, she pretty much said she sensed the same thing.

God is calling, not just my wife, but also me to make this move.

For some time, I’ve sensed I have a call. In fact, I think all of us have a call—sometimes also referred to as vocation. I don’t think it leads me (or many of us) to ordained ministry as it did for my wife, but that doesn’t make the call any less “real” or “authentic.”

I think there is something unique that God calls each of us to do they may or may not have anything to do with what we do for a living.

My own sense of call haunts me; it won’t let me go. I have some ideas about what my calling is; I have done some things to pursue it; but parts of it still remain elusive. (In some ways, it’s less obvious when your job and calling don’t match the way it does for professional clergy.) I feel that my job writing about Science for NASA lets me live out aspects of my call. Furthermore, being husband to my wife and father to my two children is also part of my calling—God reminds me frequently that I serve Him when I serve them. But I also sense there is something more—something that my life to this point has uniquely prepared me to do.

I know that what I search for is not really found out there; it’s found in me.

In other words, a change in geography alone probably won’t lead to a fulfilled sense of call for me. No, unless I come to terms with and am at peace with the unique creation that God has made me to be, I’ll still struggle to feel fulfilled in what I do. I’ve got to come to a point where I begin to see myself as God sees me. This not only means discerning my gifts and graces, but also the flipside—and honest look at my weaknesses and wounds—and allowing God to heal them and help me become whole and holy. It takes a long time—maybe a lifetime—to reckon with what we are; in Christ, we are always called to become something more than we are right now.

I begin to realize that the good, bad, and the ugly are all part of me; I can’t really have one without the other. They work together to form the unique creation that is me, and the unique image of God that I project to the world.

Having said all that, I do sense that our new church and new community may open up opportunities to use my specific gifts and graces that I have not had in our present setting, and this should enable me to more fully live out my calling. As our family embarks on a new chapter of our story together, I am looking forward to walking with God and discovering more of what I was born to be.

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[1] For those who may not know, my wife is a United Methodist pastor meaning she is itinerant and gets moved from time-to-time at the discretion of the Bishop.

Ash Wednesday/Lenten Reflection

Joel’s "Threefold Way"

Often on Ash Wednesday, we read a passage from the Old Testament book of Joel. As I read the full text of Prophet’s words recently, I heard echoes of an ancient well-travelled Threefold Way that Christians throughout the centuries have used as a practical means of pursuing growth in Christ. This way is particularly a popular one to traverse during Lent. (I recommend taking time to read through Joel—at only three chapters long, it’s easily read in a single setting.)

· STEP 1: Returning/Rending (Purgation)—Joel 2:12-14. Joel told a people who had wandered far from God to: rend their hearts… and return to God. Just as we return to the soil of a garden after the winter and work hard to turn the soil over to prepare it for planting, so too hearts that have laid fallow and wandered from God for a time must be “turned over” and purged of anything not conducive to cultivating Christ in us. This stage is often difficult and painful; it does seem natural at first; it requires hard work, sweat, and even tears.

· STEP 2: Receiving (Illumination)—Joel 2:28-29. Joel promised the people he spoke to that God was about to pour out his Spirit. Thus, the rending and purging of STEP 1 serve a purpose—namely preparation. Exerting effort to work up the soil makes it more receptive to life-giving nutrients that will come at this stage. Likewise, “roughing-up” our hearts makes them more open to the workings of God’s Spirit in our lives. The “seeds” are planted and begin to take root and grow in our hearts. Our eyes are opened and we “see” God with a level of clarity that we have not experienced before…

· STEP 3: Rejoicing (Contemplation/Union)—Joel 3:18. As did some other Prophets, Joel promised that though the present circumstances seemed very bleak (see Joel 1:11-12 for example), the day of the Lord would come. On that day, Joel promised that God would restore the physical and spiritual health of the land and the people. God’s presence would return to dwell with them, and wherever God’s presence is found, joy follows. Here, the work done during STEPS 1 & 2 begins to bear fruit. Like the people of Joel’s day, our joy returns to us and begins to deepen as we reconnect with God and experience increasingly more intimate fellowship with our Creator.

NOTE: This process isn’t meant to be something we do once and then we have “arrived at our destination”. No, this Threefold Way takes us on a spiral path toward God throughout our lives. As we progress, we move closer to God (but we never reach God in this life!) and Christ is formed in each of us. Each inward spiral reveals other debris and clutter in our hearts that must be removed (i.e., back to purgation) in order for us see even more clearly (illumination) and enjoy ever-deepening fellowship with our Maker (contemplation/union).