All your metaphors are on the surface now America! So,
live them out now in kindness despite yourself.

I don’t know why our shit makes the best art, but it does. The worst parts of our lives, become glory. He seems to form Himself mostly within our wounds. And that’s where our authority seems to boom and bloom-the part He lays closest to in us. The gory parts become His Story. Maybe we are God’s compost. It’s a gothic story. Stinky proof of redemption. Maybe because we are being real with ourselves and others out loud and begging for The Cross to be true, maybe just because me and you, need to see someone limping and vulnerable to relate, or maybe because we are just falling out loud in clouds of becoming what we were meant to be. Anyhow, at the end of the day, as we pray, we know how related we all are in our stumbling forwards, through the stench of ourselves, and into the other glory…and prayerfully, upwards, as some sacred incense us, burning to become…though we still stink down here. And yet, are somehow being made One.

What a blue bird shrilled to me today, upon landing here:

Plastic cars
plastic bars
plastic tv towers
plastic head dashboard in my car
plastic computers-looters who mar the unseen
plastic now, so thin and seemingly durable. Plastic branded conversations,
even plastic nations; plastic scholastic thoughts; what happened to the inner Tone of Word, the subtle nuances of being alive, being heard;
and yet, somewhere like today, at a particular hour of morning (6:13-like the laws, her call!)
on a particular cedar wooden fence, beside what is actually me, I see…
a cobalt blue blue bird landing specifically, pensively, surveying, in song, the sea
from her own
private lighthouse made of stone sight and bone, with levity—and what all birds are made of…breath and song;
and in her light flight sight,
the verdancy of being, called
still and shrill
in her own type of tone, her identity secured, known, resonated against, and even echoed into..
or with, the tone of our plastic worlds.
She sees the old sea, bodies of water in Thee,
as it is, as we are—wet and readied. All nations, all of us. She tells me,
there’s time left to know still.
And this bird told me another story,
“the Kingdom is made of Glory willing to re-mold itself, alight even upon, or, into our
plastic storied lives.”

I’ve already done the ironic version of myself. Now again I’ll do it straight. Both were true.

To rest in an actual piece of Peace in our God, is the higher ground. Find that spot in space and be released into another form of freedom to be. Freedom as you must know by now, is proper interpretation from Love in Him, and we swim in Him and know. So our epistemology is based on the ecology of His Being, which guides us into the neglected, unreflected areas of His Being in us–ecology, sociology,the biology of being, not to mention the treatment of our own bodies. When we are kind, we become, and care for one another. Kindness knows other. So we see. He was meant to be in all areas, un-restricted. Allowed in. But we because of wounds, reject Authority, we don’t know what it means to be occupied, contained in being. We reject all authority and as result we loose our authorship, in the face of false writers we sing…yet we, need the Author and Finisher of our faith, despite the faces which erase our contours from the line. So stay in Time–sanctify time and space both, as we are meant to do. Take both and make them a sacred sanctum of forever, while you still can. While time last…and we still have our names to hang His own… For Peace is a space in God, not a set of ideals, but a source of voice. Peace is a room we all need to enter and live from. Peace is not a suggestion, but is bathed, and our bath in Love, which is only possible from above. We channel simplicity. We channel the simplest message ever–God so loved… we are loved, so we love, and we rest in the Sabbath of that knowing..the sabbath of that knowing, which never ends again and again… until we realize it. Until we form into His Form, and start to become sons, daughters, One; living lights shining so bright that even the stones in us, start rolling away, voicing and shimmering and reflecting their own storied redeemed light. We are rolled away stone songs, meant to be breathed through melodies bones…we are types of joys meant to be pronounced, nuanced, some even shouted out, from another world. Yet, we are afraid to be sung. To timid to be timbreled. Timid songs rafting in winds scenes unseen, to hard for us to circumference, almost unseen. But we know, we were meant to be sung, so we cling to the treble cleft of life like a leaf, as best we can to Something which makes us one, some relief; for we were meant to be as Sung. Until the Sea of His Love steadies us again, we come to some Rock which holds, something bold we know from of old. And the melodies of our bones turn to stone. And we know–We are, what He always was singing…through us.

Been practicing phone Sabbath lately:
Phone sabbath—when your phone takes a rest from communication, while you still stay on call spiritually, of course. Constant communication can be tiring and hard to discern, what really matters, and where your brightest spot may bless others most, and at the right time.

There is something about it which makes my phone happy! And as technology is an extension of us, also it helps me not have to discern every incoming call, text, message etc. For there are different densities or weights of communication, meant to be determined by The Spirit and love. Perhaps, we’ve lost that discernment in our times, with the lateralization of all information. Yet, certain text, words, fonts messages, have more weight than others, still!

Anyway, I think my phone needs daily Sabbath, at least for an hour or so, to learn to listen well. And as I am the steward over it, i think i’ll let it be, from time to time!

Quotes from Sabbath, and a few from Brueggemann on Sabbath as moving in the opposite sprit of the times. Sabbath is the best active response to the spirit of our times! It is moving in the opposite spirit of our times!

To rest in the midst of the restlessness is best. Rest is the estuary of our voicing. If we don’t speak from the part of God which is at rest with Himself, our tone will mis-represent Love. Of course, Sabbath also blesses us with the fruits of the spirit, but that’s not it’s primary aim. Sabbath is the wellspring of God’s Love.

Sabbath is not passive, but an active internal decision to trust and abide while everything pulls us outward into the wrong frays or arguments.It returns us to the origin of our voice, so we recall our words, and their tone again. Returning “home” often, as Henri Nouwenn used to put it.

Rest is good for the right use of our words as well. As language deteriorates in our times, finding daily inner sabbath is a way of healing language itself. Not just using it in what psychology would call a “reaction formation” sort of way, but letting our words re-attach to our hearts again. Speaking from the heart. So we can be apart of a higher conversation, rather than constantly reacting to todays hot topics.

Anyway, studying and practicing-trying to dwell in-Sabbath lately, in a culture of constant nowness, as an active move in the opposite spirit of our times.
Reading both Heschel’s “Sabbath” and Brueggeman’s book on Sabbath simultaneously.

Practicing Sabbath or true Peace is resting in an actual “place” in God.
Thinking more on how subversive Sabbath is. To rest in God, is the opposite spirit of our times, of increasing frenetic daily hourly reactive activity. To enter Sabbath says I trust.

To stay in, dwell in actual Peace (God is always concerned, but never stressed!), is the essential practice for our times.

To rest in His Resting in Himself, is to be home with ourselves and others. As Breugemann teaches to abide in Sabbath is subversive in our times! And absolutely essential. For how can we love, if we ourselves are not in Peace. Peace gives us room to see, and chose love’s orientation and words into each situation. Then we can guard our tongues and plant life not death in others. “In Sabbath is joy, directed only to God, but overflowing to others.”

In an age where language is often cheap, manipulative, or careless, or lacks the density of truth, and at times is deteriorating, we find that Sabbath is also the well of true words to draw from to bless one another towards Life. In a time when language itself is deteriorating, as Heschel pointed out, finding it’s source is even more paramount. Finding the source of our words before we speak, has become a very necessary discipline in our time, and is part of moving in the opposite spirit of our times. Entering Sabbath daily is an active subversive act, and helps heal even language itself.

Dwelling in and around the subject of Sabbath these days…it’s still such an essential practice to get into that “space”, perhaps especially for an spiritual extrovert like myself. To learn to come back home, as Nouwenn would put it, is basic now. To not live in a type of “reaction formation”, as physchology would put it, but rather and active response grounded in Love.

Living in and from Sabbath is subversive now. It’s an active form of moving in the opposite spirit of our times. After reading Heschel and Brueggeman’s books on Sabbath simultaneously again, I’m beginning to see it as the central spiritual practice needed now. For it leads to Love being offered in Wisdom, and in the tone of the fruits of the Spirit.

So much clamors for our attention, or forces quick responses. When we instead retreat into Sabbath, and then act or speak, it changes the atmosphere.
It’s practical to enter into “that rest”, and live from it—even daily.

Sabbath is not passive as Walter taught, it is an active and required response to our times. We often think of rest as withdrawal; it is just the opposite, it is an active intentional grounding in our Source, in the space of Peace, not just the ideals of Peace, but the actual spiritual metaphysical space in God, for the good of the whole, including ourselves. We are of course, transformed by Sabbath, but more importantly, we become a blessing to others.

Not passive but active Sabbath as a response to our times. Otherwise, we get lost in the cacophony of daily clamor, and live reactive rather than proactive lives. We also lose touch with what is ours to speak Life into. We don’t know which is our part to dialogue with; information without love is rhetoric, or worse propaganda.

Anyways, what I’m gleaning from these two keen and heart felt thinkers:
There are two essential functions or results from entering into and living from Sabbath as a practice now: knowing when and how to speak, as Sabbath is the source of true words, we rest, in the part of God which is concerned but never worried, in order to hear, in order to speak life words; and being havens for others, we rest in order to know how to love others.

Wisdom requires us to live into and from Sabbath. So “entering into Rest” must become a core spiritual practice now. Listening into speech is the way. Listen before we speak. And of course we listen in Sabbath.

Listening deeply into Love and then from it, is the greatest gift we can give one another now. Kindness is born in Sabbath, and we can’t live without that tone now.

That’s what I’m getting from these books, I’m reading on the practice of sabbath now. To practice entering into Sabbath, is to heal our language, and to allow us to be lasting blessings to others. This is especially needed in our times. Peace to you all.

To rest in an actual piece of Peace in our God, is the higher ground. Find that spot in space and be released into another form of freedom to be. Freedom as you must know by now, is proper interpretation from Love in Him, and we swim in Him and know. So, this our epistemology, we show outwardly, is based on the ecology of His Being, which guides us into freedom, and the neglected, unreflected areas of His Being in us–ecology, sociology, the basic biology of being, not to mention the treatment of our own bodies as temples. When we are kind, we become, and care for one another. Kindness knows other. So we see. He was meant to be in all areas, un-restricted. Allowed in. But we because of wounds, reject Authority, we don’t know what it means to be occupied, contained in being. We reject all authority and as result we loose our authorship, in the face of false writers we sing…yet we, need the Author and Finisher of our faith, despite the faces which erase our contours from the line. So stay in Time–sanctify time and space both, as we are meant to do. Take both and make them a sacred sanctum of forever, while you still can. While time last…and we still have our names to hang His own… For Peace is a space in God, not a set of ideals, but a source of voice. Peace is a room we all need to enter and live in zoom from. Peace is not a suggestion, but is bathed, and our bath in Love, which is only possible from above. We channel simplicity. Complicity with what is Real. We conduit the simplest message ever–God so loved… so we are loved, so we love, sewing love… and we rest in the Sabbath of that knowing of the patterns of sewing and reaping, seeking and weeping, until the fruit explodes into being..the sabbath of that knowing, which never ends again and again… until we realize it as kin. Until we form into His Form, and start to become sons, daughters, One, living lights shining so bright that even the stones in us, start rolling and voicing shimmering and reflecting their own storied light. We are rolled away stone songs, meant to be breathed through…we are types of joys meant to be pronounced, nuanced from another world. Yet, we are afraid to be sung. Timid songs rafting in winds unseen, to hard for us to circumference. But we know, we were meant to be sung, so we cling, as best we can to Something which makes us as big as we are; or were meant to be. Until the Sea of His Love steadies us again.

I like spiritual stunts. Stunts are little cooler than miracles, they say or symbolize more. Miracles are like similes, stunts like metaphors. When i was a kid i liked stuntmen–Buster Keaton was a favorite who did all his own stunts. Here are a few of my favorites in the bible:

Favorite biblical stunts: Daniel telling the King what he dreamed and interpreting it to him. Not just dream interpretation, but telling someone what they dreamed! That’s a cool stunt and gift. Daniel and his friends were also given the gift to understand all world literature, and Daniel himself to understand riddles (a handy tool!). Cool stuntmen! Enoch walking off the earth with God, without dying. And of course Elijah’s exit was very dramatic as well! And symbolic of the prophetic. Jesus on the mount surrounded by The Law and The Prophet, Moses and Elijah! That must have been a cool sign to see! Philip the evangelist suddenly “appearing” in Africa—another of my favorite biblical stunts.

But I suppose the Resurrection is the greatest stunt on record, metaphysically changing everything, and ushering in the beginning of a new type of creation. What He was up to beforehand, during and after death reveal everything, and may win the greatest stuntman’s award in scripture! Making breakfast for his friends in resurrected form afterwards was cool also of course! This unparalleled death defying stunt wins Him the greatest spiritual stuntman ever award!

I love stunts, would love to do a stunt person’s guide to the bible.

I like stunts, and these were some of the stunt people in the bible. They’ve always been little key holes and heroes, into another world for me. When I was a kid, Buster Keaton (who did all his own stunts) was a hero, later the fellow who walked between the world trade centers (portending 9/11 years before; symbolic stunts are the best; and the symbol always precedes the fuller incarnation later–ie the Levites crossed the Jordan before the general body! Artists still cross first; for the stuntman is a sign of what’s possible!

But these scriptural ones, sort of blew me away. I would love to do a stuntperson’s translation of the bible, emphasizing the Nathan’s (David’s prophet), Nathanael’s (Jesus’ student, the first to call Him, Son of God!) etc…Jesus told Nathanael the type of tree he was sitting under before they met. The fig tree was symbolic, of course, as well. Jesus never wasted symbolic details–walking on water was cool, but teaching someone else to, was cooler.

Moments like these are shockers and openings through which to peak into the grand narrative! Miracles are cool, but stunts are more involved symbolically. Stunts teach us that of course, God can do miracles, but He can also do them in a way or manner which interprets and transforms everything and everyone involved, and proves the whole story. He doesn’t waste His stunt people, nor His Stunts.

The bible isn’t boring actually, it’s filled with spiritual feats-true magic-useful metaphysical acrobatics, and great spiritual stunts which lead us into the Life and world of God! Or at least, toward it!

Maybe that’s the purpose of stunts. Anyone can leave their body, as one friend in San Fran used to tell me, but what are you going to do after you are out of body. Mystical experience itself doesn’t determine spiritual growth. What does is if they are done to usher in Love.

That determines whether you do a spiritual stunt or not. Jesus always did His mystical stunts to reveal Love. Water to wine-to teach about history and transformation, and to prophecy what he would do with humanity (among other things); walking on water, to increase his friend’s faith etc. All His stunts were motivated by serving, inspiring, calling forth, and blessing others. That’s the motivation for true stunt people!

Jesus of course being the greatest of spiritual stuntmen ever. Entering what He had created, as part of His Own creation! Entering His own dream, and re-writing it with the blood-ink of His Own Love. Ok, that’s the best tight rope between worlds ever. And why? To reveal God’s Love. That stunt changed everything forever.

When young, i watched that french fellow walk between the world trade centers, and was stunned. Later I watched those buildings fall, and was shocked. I recalled that symbolic stunt, one young man dreamed up. Then thought of how long it took God to dream up incarnating into His own creation, and how well executed it was. That changed my view on the value of pulling off a great symbolic spiritual stunt.

Most of mentors were stuntmen of one kind or another! Walking the metaphysical wire between worlds, halfway in heaven, halfway on earth, and singing that liminal song of in between. They were all artist teachers, but also liked to do their own stunts, or like Chuck Berry, drive to their own shows. Stuntmen are cool, especially if they are kingdom stunt people. Then there is a higher and longer ranged impact–art which blooms forever!

My testimony is replete with stunts! Some of my own spiritual stunts: talking a man off a bridge in french tongues, just being at 911, having been told to go from England to America to bear witness to it; getting to have divine appointments with many celebrities through the years, often getting to speak words of life into them at key moments of their spiritual journeys; and many more. I’ve enjoyed participating God’s stunt life! He’s always got new ones up His enormous sleeve as well!

A friend at my local coffee shop notices that I like getting my wife iced mochas each day, and asked: what would bring you joy? A joy project? I see that you like giving her joy daily…

My wife get’s joy from me getting her daily iced mochas from our local coffee shop. Her form of joy is an iced cafe mocha daily, nice.. and it does bring me joy to bring her joy; but i pondered his question, as he made her drink today, since he seemed to sincerely want to know my own ideal joy bringing activity, and, so after a quick thought, I said:

Mine, would be to ride on a 50’s motorcycle (preferably an “Indian” vintage, or royal enfield) across europe, during spring or fall, starting in Calais, en route to Jerusalem, with lots of cameras attached, praying and stopping along “the way” to do documentaries of each person and creature i met, and making photo story books and short films of all I encounter.

With maybe also some water colored paint guns on the sides of my bike, to spray each nation and city i passed through with their true colors, leaving a pattern of life across the old continent to see by…blessing cities and lands into their true images and colors, or at least forecasting them through art!

Then, framing the stories and film and photos well in the global cities i stopped in, especially ones with a gift of graphics and printing remarkable books; and sending them as art gifts of encouragement and honor, back to each person and place I met.

Probably also, producing and editing them at night, over a campfire while eating fish i caught that day…then ending up in Jerusalem, reading poetry at night on that city’s specifically glowing, rooftops…in that white stoned moonlit domed world, which is my inner home…

Ok, her’s is much more affordable. Less logistics involved. And blesses daily. I think I’ll keep getting my wife cafe mochas from our local coffee shop. But kind of this fellow to ask what sort of thing would bring me the most joy! And, a nice thing about creative folks, he took me seriously, and started thinking of people I could collaborate with to make it happen-strap on cameras and paint guns…but, as he said, your wife’s joy is more affordable. Good practical artist, that fellow; keeping me ok and thankful, with my daily joys.

Also, made me glad that I can bring my wife joy in small, flavorful, daily ways. Everyone has their own style of joys….mine, however, may take a lifetime to choreograph, execute, and to live out.

From a poem i wrote in a dream:

He and I dancing down the aisle:
With Him in my arms, and me, in His, the party already is,
or
has begun
and never ends;
Now, i’m just dancing down the wedding line, as a clown does with and for a King.
This aisle is endless,
with crowds of sufferers on all sides. He and I
both absolutely still in one another, with and in, that specific pain and glory,
and knowing our own stories clearly.
Like groomed disco balls sweating, in shimmer, or in a type of mist of some sort, reflecting ourselves outwards, in the sheerness of the shimmer of suffering…still, dancing with one another! I can’t stop dancing with Him, regardless…
In this dance down the aisle that never ends…
what other party would i possibly want to be in!