Making Our Home in the Father's Love: Remembering Again Rob's Legacy

There is a lot going on around us right now—much to grieve, much darkness to face, much injustice to be righted, many wounds to be healed, much needed restoration. I’m grateful for wise voices within our Anglican denomination who have spoken to these things. If you haven’t already, take a moment to read this letter from Bishops Jim Hobby, Todd Hunter, Stewart Ruch and Steve Wood. Or listen to Pastor Jordan’s video message to us.

But today, I want to speak a little bit to our own grief—the loss of our dear friend and pastor, Rob Paris. In the midst of the darkness of our personal grief (and that of our country and world), I’d like to shine a light. That light is the legacy which Rob left us—the things he taught us and the ways he pointed us back to “making our home in the Father’s love.”

_______________

Naming Our Scripts - Vulnerability

I’ve been going through Rob’s Relational Discipleship curriculum with a few women at Advent, and I have been struck with Rob’s teaching on our “scripts”—the messages in our stories that we've been given from our parents, our communities, our personalities, etc. These “scripts” have incredible power to shape how we view our identity, relationships, and work/vocation. 

I'm also finding, personally, that these "scripts" are speaking stronger in this unique time of stress—speaking old lies about my identity, my relationships, and my vocation/work. Lies such as: "You should be stronger. You should be able to handle this season better." Or "Don't be too much in this season. Being too _______ makes you unloveable.” Going through Relational Discipleship has been such a gift in this time, as it has provided space for me to name these lies in the presence of God and other believers—and to name them as false.

This is one of the most beautiful things Rob invited us into, and modeled consistently himself—the value and power of vulnerability in community. In honor of Rob’s legacy of vulnerability, I asked several men and women at Advent to share the “scripts” they have been struggling under in the last few months. Here are some of their answers:

• “Don’t make yourself yourself seen or heard—people don’t want what you have to offer, and it’s better to fade out.”

• "Wow; you're REALLY on your own right now!”

• "I'm letting God, myself, and others down.”

• “If you were a better person, more lovable, spent more time and effort building relationships, you wouldn’t be so lonely.”

• “Don’t be so weak and needy.  That’s not the way to have friends.”

• “You've worked hard and are entitled to more ______ (time to myself, possessions, adventures, etc).”

• "You're alone, and no one cares about you or sees you.”

• "Other people know how to handle these kinds of situations, but you're inept and inadequate.”

• "Your life is good, and your situation is easy. You have no right to be upset and afraid.”

• "How can you be a good parent when you're so childish?”

• "If you plan ahead and make good decisions, you will remain safe and in control." 

• “No one else is going to take care of me, so I better figure it out myself. Everyone else needs me to be the one to take care of them and meet their needs; I can't count on anyone else to meet mine, so I'd better find a way to either not have any needs or meet them by myself. However, I'm not really equipped to do this well, so I will probably mess it up.”

• “Failure in parenting. Mainly I am not sure what the ideal is but I am believing that I surely fall short of it.” 

• “I’m on my own. It’s all up to me.”

• "I'm responsible and prepared! Therefore, everything will be okay.”

• “I'm weak, on my own, and without adequate resources. I'm feeling that my relationships are only ok when I have things to give and, at the same time, that people in my life are beating me down… leaving me with even less to give.”

• “My worth is in how much I protect and take care of myself, how much I’m needed or loved by others.”

• “No one knows me, and nobody cares to know me, and that means ultimately I'm not worth knowing. Literally, I'm a nobody."

• “I'm alone and feel lonely. It’s because other people don't want to be close to me. This makes me either cling to people as if they're the only source of consolation, or push them away in hurt as if they don't deserve my love.” 

• “My script is constantly berating my inner child as being useless in her fear, uncertainty, and tenderness. I bring that to my parenting by being overly harsh with my children to get them to 'toughen up’ so that no one can hurt them, and so I don't have to be reminded of my own inadequacies, failures, and fears. I sometimes fear I'm becoming the voice in their heads that's berating them.

Which of these “scripts” do you resonate with?

What are the lies you been struggling not to believe in this time? What scripts have been turned up in volume right now?

Where can you name these vulnerably, in community?

Making Our Home in the Father’s Love

So what now? What has the power to re-write these scripts? What can change how we see ourselves, our relationships, and our work/vocation?

This brings me to the second part of Rob’s legacy which I want to remind us of—his invitation to “make our home in the Father’s love.” It is here that these scripts are silenced, that they are re-written by the truth of how our Father sees us. 

But how do we do this? Here are some of the ways those I asked are seeking to “make their home in the Father’s love”:

• Taking intentional time to be quiet, being in nature, and morning prayer.

• Perhaps the best way I've been able to enter into the Father's love is through music. Josh Garrels recently released a new album, called "Peace to All Who Enter Here", and I've been listening to it over and over again. While I may not currently be at home in the Father's love, Josh's music is a warmly-written invitation to come over to my Father's house and break bread with him for a while. When I finally get there, I'm sure I'll find all the worth, happiness, and fulfillment I could ever desire.

• Continuing to meet as a small group makes me feel both less afraid and less alone. Seeing my dear ones every week also reminds me that I'm dear to them. It also reminds me that even though we're all apart, we are all still Christ's body.

• Listening to, and meditating on, the lessons from recent Sundays has reminded me of God's fatherly provisions for me. I was especially touched by the sermon on Jesus being the Good Shepherd. That he embraces me, knows me, and protects the fearful child that I still am are truths that I needed to hear and hold onto. 

• Talking through this dynamic [the script of needing to maintain personal control] with Christian friends is very helpful.  I end up confessing my desire for control and deliberately "handing things back" to the Father in prayer, acknowledging that I'm vulnerable and dependent on Him.

• Finding the spiritual markers in my life—the times in my recollection where God has certainly guided or shown Himself to me. The clarity is twofold: Time has given me the gift of seeing God in my past; then that begets the clarity of truth: God does not abandon his children.

• Speaking the lie out loud to a friend and/or to God in a journal

• Sitting still and quiet for a few minutes to breathe slowly, notice my feelings, and imagine Jesus consoling me

Where have you “made your home in the Father’s love” in the last few months?

Where have you encountered God? What practices allow you to rest into His love for you once again, re-writing the lying scripts?

Rob reminded us regularly of Christ’s invitation to welcome Him in, and then He would come and feast with us. Where have you experienced this in the last few months?

Has it been difficult in this season to “make your home in the Father’s love”? Have you felt more starved than feasting?

I, personally, really appreciated the honesty of several people who replied to me expressing how difficult “making their home in the Father’s love” has been in the last months. One person wrote, “To be honest, I've not been at home in the Father's love over the last 2 months. It has been a stressful time without healthy spiritual disciplines.” I’ve struggled with this as well.

But I’ve been encouraged by remembering something from Macrina Wiederkehr’s book A Tree Full of Angels: Seeing the Holy in the Ordinary. Macrina names the difficulty that sometimes a feast with God seems out of reach; sometimes we feel like we are starving rather than feasting with Christ. Her invitation in chapter 3 is to gather the crumbs. God breaks into our days in numerous small ways. He offers Himself in numerous small gifts. Macrina’s point is that if we can learn (by the help of the Spirit) to notice and truly savor even the smallest of these places where God comes to us—if we can gather these “crumbs”—then maybe they will be enough for a meal.

Where might God be inviting you—even in the tiniest of ways and places—to notice Him and His love?

What would it look like to take moments throughout your day to savor these things? To “find your home in the Father’s love” in the small moments of your days?

If you’d like to share or process some of the things that surfaced for you in reading this, we’d love to chat with you!

- Pastor Stacey Cooper