Ed Cyzewski's Blog, page 35
April 29, 2014
What Could Writers Learn from Monastic Ministry?
When I started to take my writing seriously, I hit a point where I had to cut out some interests and leisure activities from my life, including most sports (except hockey OF COURSE), television shows, radio, and almost all of “pop culture” (I dare you to ask me about the latest top 40 songs or movies in theaters). That was the only way to make some space for my work.
There just aren’t enough hours in the day to do it all, and if I wanted to take writing seriously, I had to make some sacrifices. When I saw how badly I wanted to write, these weren’t very difficult sacrifices to make. In fact, I’ve sometimes made a loose connection between my calling to write with the calling of a monk.
Mind you, these are “loose” connections, but it’s not so far-fetched to compare the calling of the writer to the calling of a monk—at least a writer who is committed to seriously writing. In fact, I’d suggest that many writers could stand to learn a bit from the commitments of the monastic way of life.
Without minimizing the commitments of monks, here are a few ways writers resemble monks:
Monks and Writers Withdraw
Monks devote their lives to prayer and work. Some may be more in tune with the times than others, but generally the task of the monk is withdrawing from the pleasures of this world in order more perfectly align themselves with God.
Monks serve as a living signpost of sorts that the goals and promises of our world are fleeting and feeble.
Withdrawing is essential for writers. Writers can’t just hammer out 1,000 words while watching a hockey game or while a kid hammers on your leg with stuffed rabbit—not that I’ve tried to do either…
We have to withdraw for contemplation and reflection in order to feed our writing time. Time for reflection is needed in addition to the actual time we sit down to write.
Those of us with kids and other commitments will need to withdraw in small chunks of time, be that while doing the dishes, showering, driving, or taking a walk. I’ve had to cut way back on my podcasts over the years just to make sure my mind has time to develop ideas before I sit down to write.
If you keep saying, “I don’t have anything to write about,” there’s a good chance you need more time to withdraw and let your mind wander.
Monks and Writers Develop Awareness
From my outsider perspective, it strikes me that a major part of monastic work is learning to become aware—especially aware of what can get in the way of God’s presence. If a monk’s primary task is to commune with God, the first step is to remove the obstacles that get in the way of God.
Writers learn a similar kind of awareness—identifying their emotions, stories, and contexts and then sharing stories and ideas that flesh them out. We have to recognize what drives us, what stirs our anger, and what leaves us devastated.
When we write from this place of awareness, we create meaningful connections with readers. We’ll hear people say, “You put my experiences into words perfectly.”
I don’t think writers have a special “writer sense” that allows us to see the world differently. The main difference is that good writers take time to become aware of the world and then reflect longer.
There aren’t extra hours in a day that writers get. We have to develop our awareness and then let it flow into our writing, testing out different phrases and metaphors as we work on putting it all into words.
Monks and Writers Practice and Practice and Practice
Monks take vows of long-term commitment to their way of life. It is a life-long apprenticeship that they won’t get right overnight.
Writers commit to the long term with their work. Developing a personal style and learning how to effectively communicate with readers in print is no small matter. I started writing for publication back in 2005, and I’m just now starting to understand what I need to aim for in my writing—whether I can actually succeed at connecting with readers in the end is another matter entirely!
Keep working at your writing. Keep practicing draft after draft after draft. I have found that new writers, myself included, tend to overestimate their abilities, even if they have to overcome their insecurities in the first place. There’s no way around it. We have to labor over our words, absorb feedback, and keep hammering at our keyboards and scratching with our pens.
Monks and Writers Serve
Writing serves others just as monks have a calling to serve the church. They create a space for the holy through both their monasteries and their practices. Whether monks host retreats, intercede for others, or provide for the needs of others, the monastic life is not self-serving.
Writers learn this lesson as they figure out how to write for an audience, providing what their readers need and connecting with them on a level that matters to them. When I started out as a writer, I tended to “preach” to my readers. I ranted and lectured.
I’m still learning to this day the art of writing books that say, “Do you struggle with this? Me too, here’s my story…” It’s far easier to just tell people what to think. That can be a ministry I suppose, but ministry is far more likely to happen when we share the stories of our imperfections and struggles, inviting readers to join us as we try to sort things out.
Is This a Stretch?
It may be a stretch to compare writers and monks, but if Micha Boyett can compare stay at home moms to monks, it’s worth a shot. My experience of monasticism is limited to what I have read and to a few conversations with monks. It’s not exhaustive by any means.
Nevertheless, I can’t help noticing the connections between the ministry of monks and the ministry of writers. And if we can’t imagine how a writer could possibly be like a monk, perhaps we’d be better off if we could start imagining such a notion and give it a shot next time we struggle to focus or hit a creative roadblock.
April 22, 2014
If You Like to Get Hammered, Maybe Parenting Won’t Be Fun
I
had a cross-cultural experience of sorts a few weeks ago during a theology conference. We had about 45 minutes to kill, so I suggested we walk over to my favorite brew pub that happened to be right across the street from the convention center hosting our conference.
The brewpub was wall to wall people, so we slipped a few doors down to a legit, gritty bar.
I think I’ve been to a legit, gritty bar once before. Maybe. Unlike the brew pub where folks order a flavorful, fresh beer on tap and enjoy it over a rich appetizer, many of the gritty bar folks hauled fists full of Bud Lights in wave after wave. I have no idea how many people walked past our table with 3 Bud Lights in each hand.
I’m sure people drank other things at the gritty bar. I’m sure some of the Bud Light drinkers even branched out. Perhaps they tossed in a Coors Light too.
Whatever they added to their epic beer consumption, I soon caught on to the goal. This was not about “enjoying” the beer. The beer was a mood enhancer, a mechanism for partying. You didn’t need the beer to taste good. You just needed to get drunk enough to lose your inhibitions without vomiting or passing out.
I presume bar fights sometimes enter into the picture as well.
This was a fun night out for many folks.
Needless to say, I couldn’t relate. Call me a killjoy if you must, but I’d rather think of my own jokes rather than relying on the booze to do the heavy lifting.
Later that evening I walked out of our final plenary session for the conference, longing for the quiet of my bedroom, snuggled up next to my wife. However, many people in downtown Columbus were just starting their evening. Some may have still been at the bar.
If I pulled over and told the people waiting in line at the night club about my ideal evening that involves reading a book on the couch next to my wife, many of them would probably give me a thumbs down or sneer, shouting, “Boring!”
I didn’t think for one moment that I was missing out. Booze and booming music? No thanks!
That brings me to parenting and “fun.” There’s a book out about parenting called All Joy and No Fun that addresses the demands and limitations of parenting.
I haven’t read it yet, but I’ve read articles about it and have heard some lengthy interviews about it. I have participated in conversations about how parenting changes your life and the limitations it places on you.
I’m not an expert by any means. We only have one kid with another on the way this July. So perhaps take what I’m about to say with a grain of salt.
However, I think the all joy to “no fun” ratio for parenting will be REALLY different for everyone. It’s really tough to come up with a hard and fast rule about what kinds of joy and fun you’ll have as a parent because we all have different needs and expectations about what is “fun.” In addition, our conceptions of fun may change when kids are in the picture.
On the one hand, my wife and I relish a quiet evening at home. Having a kid asleep upstairs isn’t a major burden. We’re not fans of the times that he wakes up screaming, but for the most part, we’re not missing bars, clubbing late at night, or cruising the city after midnight because that wasn’t our lifestyle to begin with.
It would be nice to go out more often for artisan NY style pizza, but for the most part, having a kid hasn’t been the kill joy that it may be for those who want to party all night—Whether that’s clubbing, lengthy bar outings filled with cheap beer, or leisurely sipping a Saison at a brew pub.
There’s no doubt that one must reign in the bar hopping and beer guzzling in order to be a responsible parent. You need to be present. And if you hire a baby sitter, you can’t ask the baby sitter to come scrape you off the pavement outside the bar after last call.
Look, parenting is tough. You will be super sleep deprived for the first 6 months, if not longer.
You will have your patience tested by toddlers who would rather die than put on shoes.
You will be pooped on, peed on, and spat up upon over, and over, and over.
You will repeatedly ask, “What’s THAT smell?”
It’s not convenient. It’s almost always messy. We all have to make sacrifices. We all face limitations because of kids. Life changes.
And yes, there are many joyful, wonderful moments.
I watched my son take his first steps. We play together with his stuffed animals each day, and he’s kicking his imagination into high gear. Peter Rabbit has attempted to eat just about every object in our living room at this point.
My son loves digging in the dirt of our garden, and he can haul his wagon down the sidewalk on his own. He can wiggle to music, and there’s nothing better than sweeping the floor with his very own broom.
There are daily interruptions and tests of my patience. There are incredible joys and accomplishments. Every parent knows that. Every expectant parent can at least imagine that as well.
However, when it comes to the all joy/no fun balance, remember that every person has different needs.
The extroverted mother will hate being stuck inside all winter with her kids. The introverted dad will wince at the thought of going to story time with ALL THOSE PEOPLE.
The beer-guzzling champion who wants to settle down will have to give up on a particular version of “fun,” while the quiet bookworms will eventually figure out time to read and drink tea as is their habit, but they’ll never have enough time to read all of the books.
All parents need to make sacrifices for the sakes of their children, but those sacrifices will be different for each of us.
Some will sacrifice more fun than others. Some will find more joy in the daily ins and outs of parenting than others.
In my own case, I’ve found different fun and different joy in being a parent compared to when we were childless. It’s not like the fun stopped with kids or the joy only reached epic levels when we brought our son home from the hospital.
Yes, we don’t hang out with friends as often as we used to. Yes, our lives look quite different than before parenthood. There are times when the all joy/no fun mantra feels accurate.
At the same time, our son has redefined joy and fun for us. However, I can say without judgment that other parents have found that transition to be far more difficult.
I spent most of my adult life fearing parenthood. Seriously. Straight up anxiety attacks and all. Now, I can’t imagine a greater joy than parenting alongside my wife. Our family is evolving and changing, and for the most part, it’s changing for the better, even if we had something pretty awesome to begin with.
My wife is my favorite person in the world, and having a child together has added more than it has subtracted.
It would be presumptuous to suggest that every family’s transition to children will be the epic win we’ve experienced. It’s going to be different for everyone, even if I can guarantee that effectively parenting will most certainly require passing on the gritty bars where people walk around with three Coors Lights in each hand.
Then again, I can’t imagine getting much joy or fun from slamming back six Coors Lights in a gritty bar to begin with, so what do I know?
April 21, 2014
Ray Hollenbach on Why Jesus Told His Disciples to Wait
Ray Hollenbach is a long time pastor in the Vineyard movement who has become a sort of online pastor for those of us who follow his excellent blog Students of Jesus. Ray is guest posting today with a preview of his latest eBook about the days between Easter and Pentecost.
Why wasn’t Jesus in a hurry to leave?
We are big on Easter, and rightfully so—God the Father raised Jesus from the dead, putting an exclamation mark on the life of his Son. Some branches of the faith are big on Pentecost, celebrating the coronation of Jesus in heaven, and the overflow of the Spirit dripping down to the earth. Between the two there’s a span of 50 days.
In the hubbub of Easter, we sometimes forget Jesus stuck around for another 40 days after resurrection. Apparently he had more to say and do. The very first verse in the book of Acts teaches us that the gospels were about “all that Jesus began to do and teach.” The rest of Acts teaches us thatJesus is still doing and teaching in the days, weeks, months and decades after the gospels. The work of the first century church was the work of Jesus. Isn’t that true today? It’s all too easy to substitute our work for his, to engage in ministry apart from his direction. What is Jesus is doing and teaching in our day? Are we still working with him or simply working for him?
Jesus’ message in the 40 days of resurrection was really no different than his message during his three years of ministry: he taught about the Kingdom of God (Acts1:3). Acts opens and closes with the Kingdom of God front and center. The very last verse in the book shows us Paul, three decades later, proclaiming the Kingdom of God (Acts 28: 31). Have we meditated on the meaning and importance of the Kingdom, or have we reduced the message of Jesus to only his sacrifice of the cross? Individually and corporately, we need to rediscover the Kingdom message.
The angels who were present at the ascension asked a pretty good question: “Why are you looking toward heaven?” (Acts 1:11) It’s a question worth considering. Frequently we are more concerned with heaven than with the Kingdom of God. The breathtaking sacrifice at Calvary purchased the forgiveness of sins and the hope of heaven, but in our generation many followers of Jesus have limited his work and message to heaven and heaven only. We should ask: if the gospel is only about going to heaven, why did Jesus invite us to take up the yoke of discipleship?
I’d love to get the podcast of everything Jesus taught in those 40 days, but it hasn’t shown up on iTunes yet. In the meantime, he invites us to work with him just as closely as the first disciples.
So why 50 forgotten days instead of 40? Simply because there were ten days of waiting, watching and praying before Something Big happened to the church. The idea of ten days to do nothing is desperately needed in the church today, and this is the perfect time of year to embrace that very thing.
The gospel accounts end with Jesus saying, “Go!” Acts opens with Jesus saying, “Wait!” What was so important that Jesus told his disciples to stay in Jerusalem? In our day many Christians are familiar with the Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20) but are we aware that Jesus also told us to wait? Jesus said, in effect, “Don’t go anywhere, and don’t do anything until you receive all that I have for you.” Have we meditated on the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives? We can work for God without any special empowerment. We cannot work with him apart form the Holy Spirit.
There are plenty of Lenten devotionals. They help us reflect on the gravity of the cross and the glory of resurrection. But what do you do after Easter? That’s really the question of what it’s like to live in the Age to Come. The days between Easter and Pentecost are usually an after-thought, yet they can become an opportunity to reflect on the significance of the resurrection in our lives. The risen Jesus didn’t leave in a hurry: he hung out with his disciples and put the finishing touches on three years of training. He wants to do the same for us.
This devotional will take you 50 days into the Age to Come. We’ll discover what the resurrection of Jesus means for us in everyday life. We’ll discover Jesus’ message of the Kingdom of God. We’ll discover the possibilities of life in the Spirit. The time for fasting has ended. Let’s feast together in God’s Kingdom.
Download 50 Forgotten Days from Amazon today!
April 19, 2014
There’s Only One Path to the Resurrection
They had to run away from Jesus. It was inevitable.
They could no longer reconcile their hopes and plans for Jesus and the Jesus they had met.
They had to face their doubts, fears, and secret shame. When they finally faced the worst case scenario, they ran away and asked one question after another. Where had they gone wrong? Everything about Jesus seemed right, but then it all unraveled in a matter of days.
When God’s plans aren’t what you think they are, who do you turn to for comfort? Certainly not God.
These two men walked along the road to Emmaus searching for answers as they sought to preserve their lives. They were doing the most logical thing possible by running away, even if running away meant waving the white flag and declaring that all hope was gone.
No one wants to reach that point of desperation and despair. No one plans to run away, and surrender is unthinkable.
How We Process Tragedy
Every time we learn about or experience a personal, national, or international disaster, our first instinct oftentimes is to find someone willing to talk about it. We need to process what we have just witnessed by putting the events into words. We need someone to acknowledge these events and to agree that all is not well with the world.
These men who ran away weren’t necessarily searching for answers. They were processing everything that had fallen apart. In fact, they most likely didn’t have a “next step” or “answer” in mind.
They were on their way to Emmaus because it was just another place that wasn’t Jerusalem.
A Faith Set Adrift
Resurrection is God’s revival of a life that is dead, flat-lined, and beyond all reasonable hope. The person who is still running, limping, inching, wallowing, or gasping for air has no need for “resurrection.”
No matter how bad things may be, a beating heart that is holding on to its own resources and plans cannot be resurrected. In order to reach the resurrection, we must first reach our own ends. Death is what precedes resurrection.
Jesus spoke of seeds dying in order to find life and his followers giving up their lives in order to save them.
There are many ways we could read this, but in my own experience, part of the story is the way that we must pass through our doubts, fears, and secret shame if we want to reach resurrection.
The resurrection demands a leap into the darkness, a stark confrontation where hope slams into a one barrier after another until we fear that all is lost. In that confrontation with doubt and shame, we wait.
Our own plans and resources will be exhausted. Our only hope is that God will enter into our lives with his power of resurrection.
Read more about Jesus bringing resurrection when we doubt…
Download the final chapter of Unfollowers: Unlikely Lessons on Faith from Those Who Doubted Jesus for free today:
April 18, 2014
Why Would Anyone Want to Kill Jesus?
If you stepped into a room full of Christians, skeptics, and atheists and asked, “Who likes Jesus?” there’s a good chance almost every hand would go up. Even those who deny the divinity of Jesus think he was pretty swell.
Taking things a step further, if you walked into the same room and asked, “Who wants to kill Jesus?” I doubt a single hand would go up.
Ignore Jesus? Sure. Plenty of people do that today. But actually plotting to kill a guy who healed lame people, fed the multitudes, and elevated the social standing of women?
Not cool.
In fact, I would argue that the reasons for the conspiracy behind the execution of Jesus are a bit of a mystery for modern readers. Do we fully grasp the reasons why a bunch of people, who really wanted God to show up, would murder God when he actually did show up as promised?
It’s a mystery of sorts, and we have to step back into their world, kicking our imaginations into high gear.
It’s true that Jesus threatened the religious leaders of his day. They didn’t see how they could worship God without their strict interpretations of the law and their rigorous system of sacrifices and holy days at the temple.
They had a lot at stake, but that wasn’t the whole picture.
The religious leaders who opposed Jesus and eventually plotted his death saw him as far more than a breaker of the law and opponent of the temple system that supplied them with power and security. They saw a blasphemer who claimed to be God. There was only one thing you could do with a blasphemer: kill him.
There was one thing the religious leaders couldn’t do: kill him. Thanks, Rome!
However, even more than their jealousy of Jesus and their theological disagreements over his claims, there was something possibly even larger looming in the background: ROME.
The only solutions back then were basically “kill him” or “Rome.”
If the Romans found out that a miracle-happy Messiah was multiplying bread and speaking of God’s Kingdom being established in a Roman territory, there was only one thing Rome could do to Jesus and everyone who followed him: kill them.
Rome had no problem with the mass destruction of entire villages and cities in rebellious territories. When Caiaphas snapped at his cohorts that they were fools if they couldn’t understand the stakes attached to Jesus, he wasn’t bluffing. He literally believed that Jesus could spark Messianic fever and lead to a doomed rebellion against Rome. That’s exactly what happened during the rebellion of 66 AD that ended with the destruction of the temple in 70 AD.
There are many reasons why the religious leaders plotted the death of Jesus, just as we could say that there are many “reasons” why Jesus died. However, we shouldn’t forget that looming large in the story of Good Friday is the very human need for self-preservation.
The religious leaders were high stakes political gamblers who reasoned that they had a better chance of surviving without Jesus than with him. They didn’t see how God could deliver them from the power of Rome to kill them, let alone from the grip of their religious system that had become a harsh task master.
In the background of the story of Good Friday is a question: What do you think God can do?
Those who didn’t think much of God’s power or concern sought their own solutions that alienated themselves further from God. As they sought to save their own lives, they lost themselves in the process. The sharp edge of human power left a wake of death and depravity.
On the other hand, Jesus entrusted himself into God’s hands, even if he prayed that the “cup” of suffering would be taken away from him. His faith was wholly in God even as his accusers plotted to kill him because they couldn’t imagine any way that God could save them from Rome.
Why would anyone kill Jesus?
For self preservation, to protect one’s prosperity, and to handle the things you believe God can’t do. In two words, we could say that Good Friday revolves around power and control.
How strange it must seem to us that Jesus demonstrated his power by letting go of control and trusting himself to God—even a God who can raise the dead.
Interested in reading more about Good Friday?
The chapter about Pontius Pilate from Unfollowers is free today.
April 16, 2014
Anne Lamott on Writing One Early Morning at a Time
Last week I attended the Festival of Faith and Writing where I met up with old and new friends, connected with writing colleagues, and listened to talks by fantastic authors such as Richard Foster and Anne Lamott.
Lamott was especially dazzling, essentially tearing up her notes and taking us on a meandering but brilliant talk about writing, Jesus, and just everything else in life. Little rabbit trails in her talks kept showing up again and again with added nuance that brought them back to her other points or reached a point of resolution.
Most striking to me, Lamott has the manner of a highly self-aware person who has mastered the art of sobriety: one step at a time, one day at a time. Time seems to slow down during her talks. Her simplicity and straightforward honesty is refreshing, but I can’t help wondering if these admirable traits began as mere survival tools.
What if the tools that lead to sobriety are also the tools that can help us become better writers, better followers of Jesus, and better people?
I wanted to share some of my notes from Lamott’s talk, but I also wanted to reflect on them a bit. I’ve added a few thoughts in between each quote.
“The hour before the world gets to you is precious and sacred time.”
- Anne Lamott
The nights were lively, the naps were short, and my need for coffee was the only constant. During Ethan’s first year, I didn’t start writing at 5 am because I wanted to be even more sleep-deprived. I started writing early because it was my only option.
I had to write. That was the non-negotiable. The ideas kept rising from the foggy abyss of my weary mind. I needed to write, and if you want to be a writer, the first rule is that you make writing a top priority and fit everything else in your day around it.
“If you can’t find an hour to write, even Jesus can’t help you.”
- Anne Lamott
Much to my surprise, the first year of Ethan’s life was also one of my most productive as a writer. In a sense, it had to be. I landed three different book contracts in the months before he was born for two co-authored books and a book that I’d been working on for years.
I wasn’t starting any of these books completely from scratch, but writing, editing, and marketing these books in roughly a year’s time has pushed me right to my limits quite often.
While having a baby took a huge bite out of my writing time, adding exhaustion and regular distractions, having a baby also forced me to do the kinds of things that made me a better writer: taking walks and getting up early.
“Get up early and work early. Hike every day. Give people water and return phone calls.”
“‘Anyone would understand…’ is the voice of the devil.”
“You don’t need an office. You need structure and discipline.”
- Anne Lamott
My office became the front porch. Ethan was my sidekick in either a baby swing or an ergo carrier. As he grew more able-bodied, I could stick him in a jumper with lights, music, and spinning animals for 20 minutes.
I woke up early, took long walks while he napped, and chipped away at my writing whenever I could string a few minutes together. It was tough, exhausting, and a dream come true to spend so much time with my sweet, beautiful son.
Despite the wonder of those days, I still had anxiety about my vulnerable income that could dip and rise with a simple email.
“It’s inconvenient for the world if you hold onto your creative work.”
- Anne Lamott
It’s striking to see how some Christians dump on stay at home and work from home dads who aren’t the “primary bread winners.” Their comments are demeaning for both wives who work and husbands who either stay home or share the workload.
I spent my teen years and early twenties under the microscopes of people who REPEATEDLY asked things like:
“English? Bible? What can you do with that?”
“How will you raise a family?”
“Did your parents pay for college so you could do THAT?”
When a Christian marriage “expert” suggested that my sense of holy calling as a writer was merely a selfish pursuit of my own dream at the expense of my family’s security, I reacted with a lot of rage. Letting go of that judgment took time. Forgiving him took even longer.
On the days I skip my morning prayers, I may still refer to him as “that asshole…”
We’re all a work in progress, right?
Creative work is not convenient for people who don’t have the same calling. If you don’t go to bed with sentences and paragraphs dancing and tramping about in your mind, you won’t understand why the father of a newborn would start waking up at 5 am to write.
In addition, it’s always unsettling for those playing it safe to see someone taking risks, pursuing a calling, or even failing. Sometimes it feels better to shame or judge the risk takers in order to validate the choice to play it safe.
I really get that. I have my moments some days. I need more faith to trust that God can provide where I think he’s leading me. Stepping into my calling as a writer has brought up one question after another about my mission in life and what that looks like on a day to day basis, including the big question: how will I get paid?
Those big picture questions can be overwhelming and oppressive. I need to think them through, but I also need to take one step at a time, one day at a time.
We sort our lives out my prayer at a time, one word at a time, and one moment at a time. I want to arrive at the place where I finally have security, clear direction for EVERYTHING, and a pile of amazing book ideas—book ideas that people will buy in droves as soon as they’re released.
I don’t know how things work for anyone else, but Anne Lamott’s words ring true for me. We’re all recovering from something. We can all fall prey to some sort of addiction. There may be spiritual deliverance for us that will help, but there’s replacing the daily faithfulness of discipline for writing and prayer.
We make time and space to write and pray, scratching out one word after another. We trust that God is present. We trust that the final results are not up to us, swallowing our pride and taking another step forward in faith.
April 14, 2014
Becoming a Community That Takes the Right Kinds of Risks
April 7, 2014
The Stations of the Cross: Jesus Before Pilate
April 3, 2014
Why I Don’t Want Anyone’s Magisterium: My Deeper Story Post
April 2, 2014
It’s Time to Cancel the Rapture: My Guest Post for Zach Hoag
