Sacred Mind

Info Update:

All is well in Canyon. Sunday we had our first service in Norris (a side camp near our area). We had one person show up, but he was very cool and it felt good to worship together—no matter how small. That day I took a nap and relaxed because I worked like crazy for the last 8 days. Monday I went to Old Faithful and then went and hiked with two people from the ACMNP team. We went to the Tower area where we saw sheep, foxes, and other deer. The landscape is so diverse it’s unreal. Even on Tuesday before work, Kyle came up and we hung out and went to the Canyon and Lake area—unreal.

I am not longer a dish specialist, but the expo guy (Expo Expert). I basically serve as liaison between servers and cooks while traying up food to go out to guests. It’s great because I get to interact with both servers and cooks and opens up new relationships. It also helps that I got a raise too that is significant given my previous wage. I was told I will be in this position for about 3 weeks, then serve—we’ll see. I think the hesitation to move to server stems from my earlier departure (Aug 28th) then the end of their season here (end of sept).

Reflection—Sacred Mind

The other night I sat in my bed looking through the window at the trees. The rain tapped on my window and I looked up to see sunlight peeking through some pine needles. Sun? There hadn’t been sun in days. I grabbed my raincoat and headed out the door. After walking around the lodge where I work, I stood speechless at the scene—no rain, only a beautiful sunset. The light seemed alien, like it came from a futuristic world or heaven. I was speechless, no words to describe, no picture to take.
My mind begin to ask, ‘why?’ Why the sunset? Does God paint the skies for one person? Is it possible he painted it for me? Maybe it’s just light particles—something scientific and easy to explain. The reality of the event requires processing with my mind, but how can I properly discern it? What does this event inform about how we relate with God?

There’s a story in the Bible about Jesus and his disciples sitting around when Jesus asks a dangerous question: who do others say that I am? It’s dangerous because the appraisal of men is cheap, and I can imagine Jesus wasn’t always properly understood as the God of the universe. The responses? Elijah, Jeremiah, John the Baptist, A prophet—someone important, and good but the details are debatable. Then, the question—But who do you say that I am?

Who do you say that I am? How does your mind understand me? How do you know me?

These questions are critical to the sunset.

If the sunset could speak, what would it say? Would it be bored? Would it shine indifferently? Or would it be consumed in the glory of God, eager to shine his love to one, small, guy in Yellowstone National Park?

These are dangerous thoughts for humans because it means we are loved. That somewhere in the cosmos, God thinks about us. Not only that, God surprises us with a sunset like a lover surprises with flowers. He gives to us creation to know him better. Although it’s easier in Yellowstone to think this way, it’s a reality we step into instead of a change in scenery.

Our minds must learn to think this way because our minds don’t think this way.

Isn’t it the hardest truth: that God loves you and cares enough to let you know. Often we believe he is either indifferent or actually angry at us. We believe the lie instead of the truth. Our minds are warped. I want to be careful and not make total depravity total truth. Yes, I believe in total depravity, but its application needs constant evaluation and wisdom to avoid preaching despair. Calling people depraved is bullying if it doesn’t end in the good news. Romans doesn’t end in chapter 3—and thank God. Our doctrine of humanity informs our mental state so that we love him better. It is how we think about God that is infinitely important because it changes the way we think about each other.

It’s a mind that thinks about life in light of his or her relationship to God. The greatest commandment involves loving God with all of our mind. What does this mean?

Our minds were given to us to love God.

No, our minds are for learning, education, theological data, information, thinking, intellection, and creativity—nope.

Our minds were given to us to love God.

Yes, it expresses itself in all of the above arenas, but we shouldn’t mistake the end for the means.

I love theology. But theology is limited and contextual. Our minds weren’t made to love Lewis, Moltman, Calvin, Luther, Augustine, or any other theologian. Our minds were made to love God. Perhaps their words inform, teach, and make sense of some madness, but it is not the end itself. The end is God, the relationship and the learning is to know him better. This is why I think theological texts serve their purpose, but need tossing aside every now and again.

So what does it mean?

It means allowing the God of the universe to love us and to actually cognitively receive that reality. It’s happening, but a renewed mind, a sacred mind, sees God as the source of the sunset. She wakes up and sees her own awakness as a gift from God—her life is from God.

It’s renewing a of our minds that takes us to a new understanding of who he is in all things. He wants us to see him, and he won’t even let us stand in the way. He gave us creation, and he gave us himself—in Christ. We know him through our relationship with him, we know him by looking to Christ, we know him by allowing ourselves to experience this reality again. We experience him as he works through our own personal lives. We begin to hear him in the raindrops, the sunset, the traffic, the noise of life.

Listen closely. Look around you. He’s speaking to you—now. He wants you to see him again.

‘Jesus replied, ‘love the lord your God with all your heart, and with all of our soul, and with all of your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment’—matthew 22:37-28

‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind’—Romans 12:2


Your support means more to me than you know,

LTDA,

Trey