Portico Church

I have found that I live an event-driven life.  I have this constant schedule, this pace that moves me from one day to the next, often consumed by what needs to get done today, and then tomorrow (or should’ve done yesterday!).  Oh, sure, the details of these days change often and continuously, but the basic focus or pattern is the same – kids and school, Wendy and I and jobs, portico, shop for necessities, fix broken stuff (or, alternately, break fixed stuff), pay bills, hunt or forage for food, move to the next day.  It reminds me of the instructions on any bottle of shampoo – lather, rinse, repeat.  Live it today, repeat it tomorrow.
 
The pattern remains the same except for those unique events on the calendar, the big dates that stand out.  These events come in different kinds:

• Consumption – big tent sale, year-end close-out, back-to-school sale, going out of business (but do they ever really?), 0% interest sale, Fry’s weekly sales ad, etc.
• School – beginning of school, open house, concerts, sports events, (fill-in-the) break, real hamburger day in the cafeteria, end of school/summer break.
• work – paycheck, paycheck, paycheck, bonus (just kidding), paycheck, paycheck
• seasonal – fall leaves, first snow (travel to see it), spring flowers, a/c check-up
• celebrations – birthdays, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Easter, 4th of July, any other day off work
• And so on

These events serve as markers, out of the ordinary.  They capture my attention and draw my energy and enthusiasm.  They allow me to step out of my routine, even if just for a moment. All too often, though, I have little time to prepare myself for them, to enjoy them, and then it’s back to the routine.  

It is like driving in rush hour, moving forward in a spurt, when suddenly the car in front of you dips forward as the taillights erupt in bright red.  You have that brief moment of contemplation before the event (hmm, he must be stopping . . . fast . . . I wonder what is causing such a rapid deceleration . . . he seems to have really good brakes . . . I hope he doesn’t have a wreck . . . I wonder what this means for me . . .).  Then the event comes, the slamming of your brakes, the rush of adrenaline, and the crying out in (hopefully) unintelligible words and phrases.  As you sit, now 3 inches from the previously dipping car, you reflect on meaning of this event, the beauty of silence, and of good tires.  Then the horn behind you honks, your moment disrupted, the event ends and life (or traffic) returns.

Life isn’t just exhausting.  It’s disconnected.  Arrhythmic.

So often, too often, my relationship with Jesus appears “event-driven” – segmented time for study/prayer, gather Sundays for praise and learning, Christmas, Easter.

Disconnected.   Irregular.  Arrhythmic.

And so I continue this journey of learning to live in rhythm, where I experience the presence of Jesus the way I experience breathing, or a heart beat.  Where it is not just a part of my life, but it permeates my life, it is my life.  And when events come up, like Easter, like Christmas, like communion, or gatherings, I am not scrambling to include or to find Jesus.  Instead, He is leading me into those times.  We go together.  

Continuous, Ubiquitous.  Rhythmic.

As we (me, you, Jesus – we) move through this time of lent and resurrection, I am inviting us to pursue praise as a rhythm of our lives.  Praise is generally a response from us.  God’s presence is manifested in our lives, we learn something new, we are led to reflect, and then we respond.  This is good, that we would acknowledge and honor God when we encounter Him, that He alone would be praised.  The psalmist in psalm 113 agrees that this is who should be the focus of our praise “from this time forth and forevermore.”  No other “gods.”  No other person.  God alone.

Yet he also says that God should receive our praise continually, every moment, at all times.  “From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised” is an all-inclusive way of saying that with every breath, throughout every day, praise should emanate from our whole person.  All of who we are, all of the time. Rhythm of our lives.

Ah, but what about those times that I don’t feel like praying, or that things are so hard praise seems impossible to communicate, to genuinely offer?  I know.  I have those days.  Days?  I have those seasons!  How can I praise the One who seems distant, silent, absent?

This is the question.  This is what I hope we, as a community, wrestle with, speak into, and move each other forward in understanding and experiencing - the seemingly impossible rhythm of praise present in a life that is broken.

Rhythmic living.