outWORD by Matte Downey

In Matthew 6, we find what is commonly known as the Lord's Prayer (a shorter version also appears in Luke 11). For centuries, the church has recited these words both publicly and privately, many viewing them as the ultimate example of prayer. But was Jesus actually offering his disciples a perfect prayer for them to copy? A template for all future prayers? It might be helpful to start with a more basic question: What does it mean to pray? When we look closely at Jesus' communication with his Father in heaven, we notice that all of it is based in relationship. For Jesus, prayer is never an attempt to control or manipulate the divine will. In other words, prayer is not magic, not a formula or an energy force to be employed to shift circumstances in one's favour. When Jesus prays, he is cultivating union with God. He is abiding in God. One could say that when Jesus prays, he is getting on the same page as his Father. Jesus invites his disciples into this same type of union...

Image from tes.com Take a rope and hold one end in your hands. Imagine that God holds the other end. What does your relationship and communication with God look like? Are you the one constantly pulling on the rope, trying to get God's attention, hoping that he will give you what you need, trying to drag him closer to you and your situation? Or does it feel like the Almighty One is doing most of the pulling, making demands on you, insisting that you move, yanking you out of your comfort zone all the time? Or maybe somewhere in the craziness of life you feel like you have accidentally dropped your end of the rope and now you can't find it. The connection seems lost. Henri Nouwen believes that loving (or rightly relating to) God involves moving from illusion to prayer. And what is the illusion? Or more accurately, what are our illusions (plural)? We might think that we are in control, that it is our story we are telling, our drama we are living. Or that it is up to us to mak...

Image from speakoutinc.com Prayer. It seems so easy and so difficult at the same time. Hans Urs von Balthasar writes these words about prayer: "Most Christians are convinced that prayer is more than the outward performance of an obligation, in which we tell God things he already knows. It is more than a kind of daily waiting attendance on the exalted Sovereign who receives his subjects' homage morning and evening. And although many Christians experience in pain and regret that their prayer gets no further than this lowly stage, they are sure, nonetheless, that there should be more to it. In this field there lies a hidden treasure, if only I could find it and dig it up. This seed has the power to become a mighty tree bearing blossoms and fruit, if only I would plant and tend it. This hard and distasteful duty would yield the freest and most blessed kind of life, if only I could open and surrender myself to it." [1] I often have the sense that there is so much more ...

Dean and I at Tahquitz Falls Dean and I spent a week in Southern California recently (thus the gap in my blogging).  I didn't even take a theology book to read, unless you count the one about a British satirist who wanted to be a monk! (I hope my supervisor isn't reading this!) Anyway, it was a great time of rest and relaxation and engaging in tame adventures.  I could tell many stories about our week (meeting a biker from Quebec in Joshua Tree Park, Dean being attacked by a cactus, hunting down fresh grapefruits in the neighbourhood, chilling out in the hot tub, sampling fresh California dates, splashing in the chilly ocean, and almost meeting Arnold Palmer), but the one event that sticks with me most is the hike we took to Tahquitz Falls on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Last year, a group of us watched a video about the life of Lonnie Frisbee ( Frisbee: The Life and Death of a Hippie Preacher ).  Dean rememb...

I am nearing the end of the my first term as a PhD student.  So far, so good.  The reading load is a bit hectic (as it is supposed to be because doctoral students are expected to have cast iron brains that can digest large quantities of any sort of printed matter).  My job as a teaching assistant in the theatre department is demanding (3 hours in-class assistance and 8 hours of grading per week), but a nice break from the heavy thinking of theology.  Plus, the theatre classroom is a friendly and invigorating environment (except on Halloween when Death sat in the 4th row and kinda freaked me out a bit).  Thus far, I have written 2 official reading reports, composed about 30 pages of notes on various readings, presented 6 summaries of readings, and taught a masters' class.  I still have another reading report and 2 major papers to write (slightly panicking) on 1) the task of theology after modernism and 2) so...

In the book I am currently reading, The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris, she writes a chapter about the Psalms and how in contemporary spirituality, we tend to avoid some of them, especially the "cursing psalms" as she calls them. Seldom do you hear these read in public or expounded upon. The brutal, angry language is unsettling and uncomfortable. And yet, she insists, these psalms smack of reality - a reality that religion tries to ignore too often. Following Jesus is not about positive thinking, which in many cases can be a form of denial. It is cowardly to pick and choose the pretty, uplifting parts of the Bible and leave out the bits about injustice, revenge, darkness, and pain. Even if I am not currently in a situation which echoes these themes, someone I know certainly is. How can I purport to love God and not identify with my neighbour? Many years ago, on a quest to become a better writer, I began my own book of psalms. Though I never made it to my goal of writing 15...

I am currently in Alexandria, Virginia. That's just 15 minutes outside of Washington, DC, in case you were having trouble placing it on the world map. I am sitting here in a dorm room at Virginia Theological Seminary, sipping tea and putting off getting to the evening's homework after spending several hours in the archives researching thesis stuff. Not that much different than at home, really, except there is no loud television playing some 'guy show' in the background and this particular library houses an Evelyn Underhill Collection. I took a 16-hour train ride yesterday to get here. It was interesting, to say the least. Some of the people that crossed my path, ever so briefly, are still with me in some way. I don't know what to make of them, and honestly, I guess I don't need to make anything of them. That would be bordering on judging. Spending a week pretty much by myself, without a single soul that I know and only a few people in sight (the seminary is virt...

On Monday morning, I was standing at the street corner waiting to get on the bus and head off to a class at the university. When the bus arrived, the doors opened, and I saw a woman in a purple coat standing beside the bus driver. The two of them were engaged in a conversation. I didn't think much of it - people often ask the driver for directions or information. I placed my bus pass on the pad at the front, heard the satisfying "ding" of acceptance, and squeezed past her. The purple lady followed me to my seat and asked if I had change for 5 dollars. I replied in the negative, because I knew pretty much what was in my wallet, but she looked so desperate that I decided to took a look just to check. When I opened up my change pocket, I could immediately see that I did not have 5 dollars in change, but I did have $2.75, which was the exact cost of a bus fare. I pulled out the coins and handed them to the lady. She offered me the 5 dollar bill, but I refused, saying that I w...

This past week (and month and a half, actually) has been so crazy busy for me, that I have not had a lot of time to think, contemplate, and have long conversations with God. I miss that. But with a lot of reading to do, lectures to prepare and give, papers to write, several more meetings a week than last term, papers to grade, and being present for my friends and Dean...well, there aren't many words left in my head that don't relate to a paper or project that I am working on. There are fewer words between Father and daughter, fewer words between Friend and be-friended, less words between Lover and beloved, but there are still words. The conversations I have these days with God are shorter, simpler, perhaps more direct, but also more gracious and overtly invitational. And they basically come down to 3 phrases that I hear over and over again. 1. Do you trust me with that? This is what I hear every time I start to think about situations that are out of my control, that are not wh...

Hello, my name is Matte and I am a student. Seems fairly straightforward, right? Not really. You see, I have been reading the story of Abram again in Genesis, and I noticed a thing or two about the difference between what we call ourselves and what God calls us. Abram's name meant "exalted father." He did pretty well with the exalted part (had a knack for getting rich and for the most part, enjoyed a good reputation), but the father bit...it just wasn't happening. If Abram were to introduce himself to us, it might have sounded something like this: Hello, my name is Abram, and I grew up with a father who didn't follow through on what he said he would do. Genesis 11:31-32. His father set out for Canaan but settled in Haran , which was about halfway there. Hello, my name is Abram, and though I have a lot of potential, I find it hard to leave everything behind and pursue the call of God. Genesis 12:1-6. He left his home, but not his family behind, taking his nephew wi...

It has been a pretty hum-drum past few weeks or even months. Nothing really exciting has been happening in my life, and I haven't been really happy nor really sad. Just somewhere short of a shrug. Which, if you know the dramatic flair with which I tend to jump and tumble through life, is a bit abnormal for me. I usually get REALLY animated about even the smallest things like a penny on the sidewalk or the idea of drinking a cappuccino. Maybe I am tired. Maybe my summer reading course is draining the emotional life out of me. We all have these seasons of numbness, even us drama queens. Why should I expect anything different, even in my interaction with God? I know that Jesus will not come out of the heavens every day to do an interpretive reading of the Bible for me, nor is it realistic of me to expect chills every time I pray for someone. I was on the subway last night and as is my custom, cracked open a book. This particular evening I read about a guy who was finding himself respo...

I am not a morning person. This simply means that, as a general rule, I do not usually function at peak capacity during the first few hours after I wake up. On the contrary, some of my most productive and creative times are between 10 pm and 2 am. And being a student with a fairly flexible schedule, I have been known to keep those kinds of hours. This makes for some interesting scenarios when interacting with the rest of the mostly 9-5 world. Yes, people have called me at 10:30 am and woken me up. When I hear that familiar ringing and it rudely snatches me out of my unconscious state, demanding immediate attention, I leap out of bed. I say some practice 'hellos' just to get the kinks out of the vocal chords and try to sound sane and coherent when I press the talk button on the phone. It doesn't work all that well. People can just tell if you've been sleeping. I used to get embarrassed about it, but then I realised that if I called them back at 1:30 am when I was wide aw...

I went grocery shopping yesterday and came home with three bags of food. After I unpacked them all, this is what my fridge looked like: really empty. How does that happen? How can I feel so full and ready for any food emergency one moment, and after one quick glance, realise that I have nothing, really? Today is one of those days in my soul as well. I woke up with gratitude and fullness in my heart, ready to take on this day and all the wonderful opportunities that it presented. Then I caught a brief glance of some emptiness in my life and bam - my buoyancy was compromised. For the past few hours I have been treading water, trying to keep my head in a positive space, bobbing in and out of disappointment, and catching myself whining with pathetic indignity at the cement blocks of other people's stupidity that are tangled around my ankles. When I am staring at the empty refrigerator of my soul, these are my thoughts. Where do I go from here? Perhaps I should slam that refrigerator ...

Sometimes I find it hard to be enthusiastic about God, about Jesus, about the Bible, about church, about anything spiritual, really. It seems to require so much effort. The problem is usually not that I am slothful or lack understanding (though no doubt I am regularly guilty of both). It is that I have forgotten how beautiful Jesus is. When I see him, know him, and spend time with him, everything else seems rather dull and boring in comparison and I cannot help but be attracted to him, love him, and love everything he loves. Here, then, is something from a talk I gave last night to remind myself (and others) how beautiful Jesus is. Let my nature find itself drawn back to him over and over again. He is the creator and ruler and upholder and finisher of the universe. He is beyond anything I can dream of or imagine or fathom. He is unlimited in power and beauty and love and light. He deserves anything and everything we can give him, even though he doesn’t need it, or even need us. Our lif...

I don't like failing. I don't like being rejected. I don't like hearing the word, "No." I don't like not getting a job I applied for. I don't like asking someone if they want to get together and having them say they just don't have time right now. I don't like sending messages and never getting a reply. I don't like applying for scholarships and getting that letter that starts with, "We regret to inform you..." I don't like putting myself into scenarios where I am not likely to succeed. And I don't think that I am the only one. But that is exactly what life requires. That we try and try again, failure or not. I have started the process of applying for another scholarship. It is a bit of a mental battle because the rejection email from the last one I applied for is still fresh in my mind. A few weeks ago when I saw the spring round of scholarship deadlines come up, my first thought was, "Hey, I should apply for these....

I am writing this from my hotel room on the 11 th floor, a block from the Pacific Ocean in Honolulu. It is reading week at my university and Dean and I are spending it doing some reading (it is obligatory, I am told) and relaxing with his parents near Waikiki Beach. The trip here on Monday was a bit of an adventure. I have been learning that how the journey happens is not always an indication of success or God's favourable presence in my life. A week ago, I had two days when I had important appointments to keep. On the first day, I missed my first bus because it was early, then missed another connection, and the whole trip was feeling quite out of control and late. However, I got to my appointment with a few minutes to spare, no problem. The next day, I was nice and early for my first bus, caught my second bus just as it was leaving and every step of the way was a picture of clockwork perfection. I got to my appointment a few minutes early, just like the day before. How was it tha...

I got word today that I did not receive a scholarship that I applied for last fall. Not that I was really counting on it, because you toss your application in with hundreds of others and never know how it will turn out. I thought I might have a pretty good shot at it, but it turns out that I never made it past the first round. Disappointing. I guess a tiny part of me had hoped that I would finally see some financial benefit from doing something that I loved - learning and studying. And I thought I was doing it quite well, but I obviously didn't have what they were looking for. Dean is a very successful businessman and sometimes I feel the inequality between his ability to contribute to our finances and my lack of the same. I know I am smart and talented and creative, but it never seems to translate into income. In fact, all my creative projects seem to cost us money. I have asked God if it would be possible to get paid a living wage for doing what I believe he made me to do: be a c...

I woke up on Sunday morning with a sore throat. It was all too reminiscent of the same symptoms I had when I opened my eyes on November 23. This nagging cold has been my unwanted companion for 63 days and that morning, it felt like I was back at square one again. Nothing had changed; despite a few peaks of almost normalcy which never lasted long, I was still coughing, fatigued, congested, but now also worn out from the fight and all out of hope. Silly as it seems, I laid in bed and cried great big wretched sobs of hopelessness. Waking up tired, day after day with no end in sight and no significant signs of lasting improvement had reduced me to a lump of sickly flesh that was ready to give up any thoughts of being a vibrant, energetic, and well person ever again. Of course, I did all the right things after that. I shoved the hopelessness to the side, I ignored it, I thought positive thoughts, I asked God for healing, I read my Bible, and I tried to starve the black monster through negle...

My vacation is turning out to be much busier than I had hoped. The lazy days, sitting by the fire reading a book, are still strictly in my mind. We are planning a mega birthday celebration for my mother on January 1, and last night after a day crammed with lunch at the Mexican restaurant, a trip to a few stores to exchange gifts that didn't fit and redeem gift cards, scouting out the celebration facility, a trip to the photo studio for family pictures, and a late dinner, I sat down to organise the program (I am the MC), work on my power point presentation, and get the door prizes ready. I went to bed shortly after midnight and still left a few things undone. This morning I awoke, tired and coughing. Not pleasant. One thing that has been going through my mind this week is the following question: What am I mad at God about? In fact, he was the one that asked me this in the middle of worship in church on Sunday morning. And then he said..."Let's talk about it. Don't just ...

We all have them. Friends who have had a bad experience at church, people we know who have been hurt or judged by Christians, and acquaintances who have seen the freaky side of religion and don't want to get anywhere near it. I feel for these people, I really do. I have been on both sides of the equation, so I know what it is like. I have freaked people out and judged others who are not like me. I have also been judged and condemned and seen things done in the name of God that made me cringe. These things bother me. For all those people who have had a bad encounter with the church, I am truly story. I wish you could see that Christians can be really cool people: full of life and love, genuine in their honesty, and relentless in their pursuit of truth and transformation. Above all, I wish that you could see that they love God. They really, really love him and everything that he is about, because they know he can be trusted. They are not perfect, and they need grace for their mistake...