Camp

It's a Mark week and I am moving at a snail's pace through this text.

I want to just read straight on through but I remember how I read other books at night, barely retaining the information before I start to drift in and out of sleep and the text becomes little more than the background setting of my dreams. But I desire less setting, more settling.

So I am settled here in Mark, I've been camped out all week in Chapter One which is still probably considered a "quick" stay for some Bible scholars more disciplined than me.

It seems like God said there are sedimentary layers here and even though the New Testament tends to require less cultural and historical decoding than the Old Testament, he is still asking me to wait, as the watchmen wait for morning (Psalm 130:6), rest here a while, while the words sift and excavate my understanding. Read it, then read it again.

Every day I think I'm ready, I think I've given it my full attention and digestion.

"Chapter two?" I start to turn the page eagerly.

But he halts me. I can feel that I could press on, if I wanted, but something tells me I will miss more that he has for me still in Chapter One.

My young, observant son recently noticed that when I write a text message, I do not send it right away. I sit there staring at it.

“Do you re-read your sentences before you send your message to make sure it is correct?” he asked.

This is painfully humorous to me because, as a writer, proofreading is an occupational hazard in everything I compose. No text, no email, no string of emojis is released into the wild without first passing through a gamut of various filters and a range of mental editing.

So leaving Chapter One just yet feels a little like leaving a proofreading job undone, words unturned, meanings and tone undefined. I get the sense that I need to continue to keep it “under review.” Not for my editing, of course, but maybe for it to do some editing within me.

God is a God of repetition but what often looks like repetition to us is anything but the same thing over and over. Circles are stagnant but spirals, when viewed from the right angle, have trajectory, they grow, they change, they create a new shape called a helix, while somehow remaining the same.

When God called Samuel over and over in the night (1 Samuel 3), each time Samuel’s, or certainly Eli's, awareness must have been shifting, must have been attuning. At first, Samuel thought logically, "It is my mentor."

But no, it was not Eli, and a new level of attention was raised. Samuel repeatedly went back to Eli, but each time, the interruption created a greater and greater curiosity.

Something tells me, if needed, God would have repeated this nightly call as many times as it took for the grooves of understanding to finally unlock the dawning revelation in Eli's mind, "It is the Lord."

This is repetition, but in spirals, not circles.

Consider the worn path of the Israelites' march around Jericho (Joshua 6). Their repetitious path created physical circles, but spiritual helixes. Every lap a deeper demonstration of faith than the one before, a further willingness to do that which seemed in one world foolish, but in another, was the active pavement of a foregone conclusion.

It reminds me of something I read in a photography book once, “One should not only photograph things for what they are, but for what else they are.” (American Photographer, Minor White.)

It means that the task of a photographer is to yes, capture a physical representation, but beyond that there are also many implications and meanings that can be drawn from the visual image and not only must the artist bear this in mind, but these impressions beyond are often the substance that viewers are actually responding to, more so than the visual of the image itself.

No person better understands this double way of living than a follower of Jesus. It isn’t that the two ways of living are in contradiction to one another, but that they exist in different dimensions.

That things can be beautiful superficially and they can also display a depth of beauty that makes your heart ache. That words can be just spoken communication and they can also be initiatives of ephemeral things like hope and love. That a synchronicity could occur by coincidence and it could also be a deciding factor in the next decision you make for the trajectory of your life.

That you could hold a job and also space for connection, community, and collaboration. That you could raise a family and also be building wells of influence for an entire generation. That you could snap a photo and also a memory you cling to of someone who will never appear in another photograph. That you could just wake up and start your regular day and also be breathing holy air with holy purpose in holy confidence.

Psalm 103 was a good lesson for me in this practice. To this day, every time I read it, a new shade of light is cast from it. It is saturating layers of my soul that I am not sure have ever been touched before. And something tells me, I really have not even cracked the spiritual surface yet.

If I could advise of just one spiritual discipline practice it would be to choose a scripture that resonates with you and go to it everyday for a while, several times a day, even. Without expectation just increase your exposure to it. Repeat it to yourself and to others, have others repeat it to you. Remembering, though your repetition may seem rote to you on one level, spiritually speaking, there is a helix effect happening that is sure to change you or your circumstances.

In spending your time with this scripture, you also might begin to excavate it. Read some commentary on it. Ask questions of it. Try to see it as the photographer sees...for what it says but also for what else it might say. Release yourself of conclusive understanding and answers. School textbooks and job trainings are for mastery. Scripture is for formation.

Follow the scripture where it takes you. It might be to another resource or place or mission or topic. A person might come to mind that you should speak with. A memory might arise that you should look at with Jesus. Maybe it reminds you of a hymn God would love to hear your worship through. Maybe it inspires you to take action. Wherever it takes you, go there, knowing Jesus is already there.

When we approach scripture with curiosity and humility, instead of a desire for mastery, as it turns out - it will master us.

I think he's inviting us to a camp out somewhere with him. Right now I am parked in the book of Mark.

Where are you setting up camp?