Contemplative Christian Spirituality.

This regularly updated site from Josh Pinkston centers around Christian Spirituality, contemplative awareness and practice, and some social consciousness.

I'm a Dad! And we had a teacher.

A month ago now, Shawna and I welcomed Ellis (aka El Minimanny) into our home, lives, and hearts. Parenthood is no joke. The challenges we’ve experienced while being faced with sleep deprivation makes me look at all parents with awe! Especially single parents. You all have my profound respect!

For the past few months, I’ve been reciting Psalm 23 in my practice of silent prayer. In all honesty, I’ve never liked this Psalm, but for one reason or another, I felt a bit drawn to finding some of its depth. In this short amount of time, it has now become one of my favorite passages of Scripture.

A line I’ve often found myself returning to through many days is, “He leads me beside still waters.”

How rarely does that feel true. In the chaos or confusion of the moment, the last thing I find easily accessible are refreshing still waters. But as I’ve meditated with this passage and learned to give my Shepherd my attention, rather than give it to my circumstances and confusion, I’ve found that, in being still, He has led me beside still waters the entire time. I've also found that there is a thirst in me.

I am thirsty. It is a need, desire, and compulsion within me that is beyond my comprehension, but drives the current of all my actions and way of thinking.

Only 4 weeks ago, we welcomed Ellis into our arms and home. I can’t help but keep thinking that with his birth, we were reborn. (Lord knows we’re all sleep like newborns right now). Everything is new to him and at least something about everything is new to us now too. Things I would have thoughtlessly or selfishly done before he was here are now lit with a new hue. He’s on my mind.

The most challenging part of parenting for me so far has been learning the differences between his cries:

  • hungry
  • dirty diaper
  • tired
  • gassy
  • other

He can’t communicate with words and wouldn’t know what to say even if he could. Ellis doesn’t realize he is actually tired or that he has soiled his diaper, he just feels discomfort and reacts impulsively to it. We’ve all been there. And although we all grow up, learn to talk, and find ways to live life, I don’t think we really learn to sit with and observe what it is we’re really thirsting for. 

The experience reminds me of a Henri Nouwen quote:

Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity.

Ellis has really been teaching me about my thirst and hunger for love. The need to be cared for as well as to care for. Just because I've learned to walk, talk, interact, and operate in our culture does not mean that I've made any progress in understanding who I am or who others are. And although I may have ideas of things that I want, I'm often still clueless as to what it is I really need.

Who can map out the various forces at play in one soul? I am a great depth, O Lord. The hairs of my head are easier by far to count than my feelings, the movements of my heart.
– Saint Augustine

Thank you Ellis. I am thirsty and learning to find still waters beside me. The Shepherd has my attention.

Shut up and listen for Christ's sake.

In my last article, I poked fun at parents who presumptuously assume the role of advice givers to us expecting folks. It is a humorous phenomenon, but it brings up another point.

(Side update note: Yes, we're STILL waiting for our lil guy to drop the Occupy Movement.)

When people ask how it's going and how we're feeling, but then immediately have an answer for my response, I can't help but feel like they were never really listening in the first place. Have you ever felt like people may hear you, but no one is really listening? I think it is a common feeling. And a painful one. There really is a difference between being heard and being listened to, isn’t there?

When someone is only hearing you, it seems like they only listen until they think they “get it” (which they never really do). Then they’re just waiting for the moment when they can start talking and have tuned you out. With some folks, they’re convinced that they “get it” before you even say anything (having grown up around pastors and in church environments, this seemed like a pandemic)!

When someone is listening to you, they’re not as interested in what’s being communicated as they are the one who is communicating. It’s about relationship! And it’s the threshold of intimacy.

I believe it is with this understanding that Jesus said:

Therefore consider carefully how you listen. – Luke 8.18

Imagine how all those historical giants listened to Scripture being read aloud in the temple and church gatherings, in the days before it was readily available at every turn; on our cell phones, in our desk drawers, on our bookshelves, etc. They simply listened with such intentionality and focus that it transformed their lives and ultimately our world. God has truly designed us with the capability of listening with extraordinary depth and power, yet it seems that we hardly access this potential.

How we listen to one another can inform us of how we are listening to God. How am I listening to Shawna? How am I listening to those around me? Or am I just waiting for my chance to speak? There is a direct correlation between those answers and how I am listening to God.

When I really listen, I don’t only hear what is being said, but who is saying it and how and why it is being said. It brings me closer to that person and strengthens the bond I have with them; whether that be with God, Shawna, our neighbors, or our "enemies." It is impossible truly love without truly listening.

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.
– James 1.26

So, it is with absolute reverence and sincerity that I plead: Shut up and listen, for Christ's sake.

In Love = In Sensitivity

We’re still waiting for our son to be born (due last Friday). Between Shawna’s remarkable discomfort and our live’s perpetual state of limbo, I find myself getting easily irritable and restless. This manifests in different ways. I’m so grateful that our elderly neighbor who lights up every morning at 6am outside our bedroom window isn’t able to hear my thoughts. He'd have called the cops a long time ago and I'd be waiting for our son's birth from a jail cell. Waking up that way is a bad sign for how I’m doing internally.

It really isn’t him who’s driving me insane. It’s my self-centeredness. I’m so eager to meet our son and to see Shawna be a mom (with a body she feels comfortable in again) that I begin focusing more on my eagerness than I do the things I’m eager for. The emotion becomes the focus rather than the focus that produced the emotion. It’s backwards and quickly turns my being eager into my being anxious and irritable.

(Side note: Speaking of being irritable, to all parents reading this, please refrain from the impulse of thinking you have the perfect advice for me or need to educate me on the difficulty of sleepless parenthood. I don’t know what it is about having a pregnant wife that turns everyone around you a doctor, psychologist, and sociological genius, but be we must find a cure for this epidemic! Thanks. And I love you.)

Culturally, the word “sensuality” is usually understood to be addressing mere sexuality, but it is so much more than that! Sensuality is more like a mental condition. It’s the over-identification with our senses (sens-uality). A “sensual person” is one who measures the value of people, places, and things according to how they relate to their senses and how they make him/her feel. It is the shallowest and most self-centered level of thinking (believe me, this is something I'm really good at).

Ephesians 4.19 gives an incredible diagnosis for the root cause of sensuality:

Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality…

Sensuality is the absence of sensitivity. For instance, when I’m grumpy toward my smokey neighbor, it’s because I am overwhelmed with how I believe he is “making" me feel. He is then reduced to being a cause, and I am reduced to being affected. I am completely insensitive to who he is beyond what I am feeling right now. I’ve lost all sensitivity and been given over to sensuality. This robs me of being able to hear others and God, because listening and hearing require sensitivity.

Jesus said, “I have come that you may have life, and life more abundantly,” but we often behave as if we’re afraid that an intimate relationship with Him will rob us of living full lives. That is the condition of sensuality having its way with our faith.

Sensitivity enables us to love our spouse, children, neighbors, and even enemies because we’re capable of being sensitive to them, beyond how they relate to us. Christ wants to teach us how to live with transcendent and infinite sensitivity to a loving “God of all who is over all and through all and in all.” (Ephesians 4.6)

So, when I find I'm being grumpy or agitated, I try to remember to ask myself, “What am I being insensitive to?

As I ask that now, I realize that I am being insensitive to an immense joy residing in our house and lives. I think, I often confuse excitement as anxiety. It’s not worth continuing to do that any longer.

(Continued side note: Thanks again, parents!)

The Eye of the Beholder

The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing.
– Ecclesiastes 1.8

Years ago, my Dad was recovering from Lymphoma and months of chemo with radiation. His health and strength were returning and I found my role as caretaker fading. This was strangely bittersweet. On one hand, seeing my Dad win a battle that seemed impossible gave us all a measure of relief that goes beyond description or expression of gratitude. While, on the other hand, the purpose, meaning, and significance of my own life had never felt so clear, and that was going away. Being there for he and my Mom in their time of absolute need had been the most spiritually satisfying experience of my life. I knew from that point on what I will spend the rest of my life trying to attain again.

One morning, I was walking and realized that the experience of love and selflessness I stumbled upon was exactly what I had been searching for my entire life, subconsciously. It was the most whole and complete I had ever felt! When I looked back on my life, I saw how badly I’ve used and manipulated friends, family, religion, and strangers to try to meet this internal craving. It broke my heart. I never want to return to that way of living. Ever.

I saw that I had been trying to find an external solution to an internal problem. That was where change needed to take place in order to ensure my never returning to my selfish behaviors. I needed to rewire my mode of operation, if you will. Or redirect my rushing stream of consciousness.

Love is an internal condition. As is peace. And joy. And gratitude. And gentleness. And kindness. Not to mention, the kingdom of God. These are all things that find their manifestation within. But we go about our entire lifetimes trying to construct them externally.

The most wonderful secret about this is, once love has taken up residence internally, you see it everywhere externally. Once the kingdom of God is maintained and nurtured internally, you see it everywhere externally. You know that saying, Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? I believe it. And I believe it applies to Christ. When Christ is in the eye of the beholder, the beholder sees Christ everywhere she/he looks.

When our internal needs and demands are met or transformed, we experience an amazing liberation from subconsciously demanding everyone else to satisfy them for us. We see our friends, family, neighbors, strangers, and enemies differently, more purely. It creates the ability to truly love.

As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects man.
– Proverbs 27.19

If you or I are chaotic, restless, or agitated, it is only a reflection of our heart, our internal condition. Let’s start there rather than blame those around us for our behavior or emotions. When we decide to do this we finally encounter the kingdom of God within.

People can't observe the coming of the kingdom of God. They can't say, 'Here it is!' or 'There it is!' You see, the kingdom of God is within you.
– Jesus, Luke 17.21/22

Tearing ish up...

Jesus shouted again with a loud voice and gave up His spirit. Suddenly, the curtain of the sanctuary was split in two from top to bottom.
– Matthew 27.50/51

This has always been one of the most intriguing details of Christ’s crucifixion to me. Seemingly miraculously (it is important to note that, although it says “suddenly", it does not say miraculously, so to interject that notion is admittedly an assumption), something the Pharisees would believe to separate an unworthy humanity from the very presence of God is torn apart. The symbolism of this message is passionately meaningful. The curtain tearing was not a way of saying the “Holy of Holies” isn’t the dwelling place of God, but that everywhere is. What stands out to me the most about this is how it wonderful summarizes Jesus’ life.


Constantly, Jesus tore apart the things we believed to be so sacred that not everyone could take part in it. He did this when the Pharisees asked him to tell them when God’s kingdom will come. He said, "The kingdom of God is not coming with something observable; no one will say, ‘Look here!’ or ‘There!’ For you see, the kingdom of God is within you.” In this instance, here and there are the veils which the Pharisees hung up between us and the kingdom of God. It is not here, neither is it there. Those veils need to be torn apart. They are false and delusional.  Anything and any thought that we believe separates between us from God is false and delusional. The residence of God is within you.

So, now we can see and understand that you and I are the "curtains of the sanctuary”. We try to make our lives and beliefs about what’s on the other side appear beautiful, but the best thing we could do is draw back. Allow our identification with emotions, things, and people groups to be pulled away, even for just a little bit, so that the kingdom of God within might be revealed. This “drawing back” is what Jesus is describing when he says, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves.”

We all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.
– 2 Corinthians 3.18

We do ourselves and our relationships a huge service by taking time to remove the veils and curtains in our lives. Whenever and wherever we see our religion putting up more of them, be strong and courageous and just walk right through them.

At the Pace of Trees

The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed…
– Jesus, Matthew 13.31

Today, Brook Fonceca and I took to the hills and ended up at an amazing retreat center on Mt. Herman called “Fasting Prayer Mountain of the World”. That’s an intense name, but the environment is hardly that. It exists mostly in harmony with the forest and is meticulously landscaped. Little hidden treasures are tucked away in massive hollowed out trunks where Redwood giants once stood. Life is growing, crawling, and sneaking around everywhere. Sometimes it even walks up and tries to help me be more present!

As I was walking around in nature of it all (the original cathedral), I was reminded of a phrase that has been with me since my early days of taking up a daily practice of Silent Prayer: At the Pace of Trees. Have you ever sat and watched a tree grow? Even just for a few minutes? It is maddeningly slow. Yet, its roots can destroy concrete and its limbs can break apart houses and cars. Just because we can’t watch its growth doesn’t mean that nothing is happening. Something is definitely happening.

Jesus consistently tries to draw our attention to nature in order to see how it reveals God’s nature as well as our own. “Consider the lilies of the field,” he says. Adding, “Consider the birds of the air.” But how often do we as Christians actually do this? Maybe instead of trying to answer that question we should just use that energy to start doing it now!

The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed,” is a revelation of our own nature (spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical). It. Is. Such. A. Slow. Process.

Our lives operate at busy pace: wake, shower, maybe eat, out the door, drive, work, lunch, work, drive, dinner, home, tv, sleep, and repeat. Retreating to nature helps so much to reveal what’s really going on beneath all the busyness: Life. At the pace of trees.

As I look around and see the diverse condition of nature, I wonder, what’s the condition of my life? How is it being tended to and maintained? What am I doing to honor what and who I really am? Is the “mustard seed” within me being cared for? Or is it having to fend for itself because there isn’t someone tending to it?

Taking a personal retreat and acquiring a daily practice of Silent Prayer are two of the greatest things I have done for myself and my growing family. The healthy trees create a radius of health around them. People are exactly the same way. Nature is best when it’s being nurtured. I wish the practice of taking personal retreats and Silent Prayer were more a part of Christian culture and believe they slowly will be out of necessity.

At the pace of trees.

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