Pastor John Van Sloten

My slow motion race to meet with my publisher on Friday is playing out as hoped. By flying into Toronto and then renting a car to drive the six hours to Michigan, I’d hoped to have some time to ponder and think. Just east of Grand Rapids I found myself deeply moved and saddened…

Why would anyone feel that way about God’s created order, I wondered? Why is it that so many Christians – because they’re so worried about moral and ethical purity – despise and end up discarding so much of what you have made God?

I was thinking about the book and how different people are going to react differently to it; in particular towards its graceful disposition toward “unholy things”. And it just hit me that many will see the concept as incomprehensible (at best) and perhaps heretical (at worst). And for others, it seems, the idea could bring so much hope. The woman I talked to on the flight in was totally excited by the possibility of a God speaking through creation. When I told her that I had been contemplating preaching a sermon on a horse (as a topic not as a mount), she started crying. She’d loved one steed in particular, for decades, and had always seen the goodness in her thoroughbred as otherworldly. The thought of a God who would somehow have something to do with this equine gift completely unsaddled her.

And so there I was outside of Grand Rapids, five miles and twenty hours away from my big publishing meeting. What would it hold? Where will this go? How will you use it all God?

A song lyric from some classical rock radio station I was listening to then caught my ear; “Come and make me holy again.” the monent I heard it , I thought of of creation being made new once more, holiness coming back to and through all things.

I’d never heard the tune before, but like all 70’s rock is was amazing. I later found the song online; Man on the Silver Mountain, by a band called Rainbow. As I drove along listening to the lyrics I thought, had I had this creational revelation idea in my head banging head back then, I’d have preached this song.

“I’m a wheel, I’m a wheel
I can roll, I can feel
And you can’t stop me turning

Cause I’m the sun, I’m the sun
I can move, I can run
But you’ll never stop me burning

Come down with fire
Lift my spirit higher
Someone’s screaming my name
Come and make me holy again

I’m the man on the silver mountain
I’m the man on the silver mountain

I’m the day, I’m the day
I can show you the way
And look, I’m right beside you

I’m the night, I’m the night
I’m the dark and the light
With eyes that see inside you

Come down with fire
Lift my spirit higher
Someone’s screaming my name
Come and make me holy again

I’m the man on the silver mountain
I’m the man on the silver mountain

Come down with fire
And lift my spirit higher
Someone’s screaming my name
Come and make me holy again

Well, I can help you, you know I can

I’m the man on the silver mountain
I’m the man on the silver mountain

Just look at me and listen
I’m the man, the man, give you my hand
I’m the man on the silver mountain

Come down with fire
And lift your spirit higher
I’m the man on the mountain
The man on the silver mountain
I’m the night, the light”

Photographs © Galen Rowell/Mountain Light
For more information about Galen Rowell, please contact Mountain Light Photography, 106 S. Main St., Bishop, CA 93514
Telephone (760) 873-7700
www.mountainlight.com.

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The Journey to Publishing
Authored by: Anonymous on Saturday, March 14 2009 @ 05:12 PM PDT
As always, great post. And what a great song.

I know what you mean. So often I have this sort of frowning, displeasing
attitude from some of the Christians I know when I describe things that
matter to me that aren’t “Christian” inherently. I end up feeling condemned
for finding God in something that others don’t see him in and I don’t think
that’s the way it should be. Why don’t we all jump at every occasion to see
and celebrate God’s love for the world? I wish we did more often. And then
I start to understand why non-Christians are often so against religion of any
kind – they feel that the things they love most won’t fit in with what is
considered “good”. What freedom they will find in knowing that it not only
CAN fit, but it DOES fit. And not because of any of us here on earth, but
because God wants to meet them there. Your book is going to teach people
that – and that is a very amazing and wonderful gift to give. It already is -
look at that woman on the plane who was reduced to tears!

So, again, Thanks.

K

I went for a hot walk in the Weaselhead Conservation area this afternoon. It was a purplearama, reminding me of Alice Walker’s words, “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice…”

It felt good to take a break, let the brain go into alpha mode for a while, and not piss God off. Lately every bit of free time that I’ve had has gone into the book…

amazing how much time and energy it takes. Last Tuesday I was writing for the day, and by 2:00 pm realized that I’ve pretty much got a first draft done – what Ann Lamott calls a ‘shitty first draft,’ but a draft none the less. It sort of caught me off guard. Fran read it and thought is was pretty good. She said that its a lot heavier than a Rob Bell or Brian McLaren book, which surprised me a bit. She said that at points she thought, “Who thinks this way?” (I’m sure she meant that positively!) Lots of editing to now do, plus there’s one chapter that she says is way too long and complicated (the chapter on discernment). I may have to cut it back significantly and save it for book #2. Another publisher also got back to me today as well, she wants to see the proposal. I’m talking with a recommended agent on Thursday for the first time. We’ll see how that goes.

Walking in the sun in the mid-afternoon heat brough back all kinds of feelings and memories. At several moments – once while being escorted down the path by two butterflies, and then later when the wind was blowing the grass in just the right way – I found myself transported back to a time when I was a young boy, aimlessly walking through summer fields. Ever had that happen? It’s like timelessness takes over for just a second, and its quite heavenly.

A restful, centering gift.

I must have sat there for 10 minutes, camera zoomed out to the max, lens fixed on the subject tree top, auto focus set, finger pushing halfway down on the trigger, hoping the image stabilization software will correct my shakiness, hoping the flashing red battery light wouldn’t cut this opportunity short, and waiting for that bird to land. Not just an ordinary bird, no mere robin, chickadee or sparrow, but some kind of uber-aviator, with a very distinct call…

For a day and a half now I’ve been trying to capture this superb specimen, but I’m finding it too fast to shoot. Yesterday morning, as I sat eating breakfast, looking out over the foothills, I was introduced to two of them doing an air show. I think they were brothers, they were having so much fun. I tell you this species is like the F18 of the bird world; huge speed, incredible maneuvers, daring stunts – flying toward each other and then darting aside at the last possible moment – a better overall show than any crack air force team I’ve ever seen.

If I’m patient enough, attentive enough, perhaps I capture one yet. I’ll be here writing for a couple more days.

Watching those two flyers I thought, “They’ve lived more life in the past ten minutes than I have in a month! I want more of that.” Later that day I went for afternoon walk and saw, at a distance, a young colt playing with its mother. It would sneak up on her, and then when she feigned noticing him, he’d dash off, leaping and turning, tail flying everywhere, and then prancing away. Prancing is really the only word for it. That pastoral scene was a perfect image of leisurely play, of being there, of living life. “I want more of that too,” I thought. Walking back to the cabin I passed three young children laughing and singing on their backyard swing set.

Today I hope to pen a few more thoughts about seeing God in the world. Today’s chapter will be looking at how we learn to discern his presence.
This morning I read these words from a devotional;

“Leisure is not the attitude of mind of those who actively intervene, but of those who are open to everything; not of those who grab and grab hold, but of those who leave the reins loose and who are free and easy themselves – almost like someone falling asleep by ‘letting oneself go.’… When we really let our minds rest contemplatively on a rose in bud, on a child at play, on a divine mystery, we are rested and quickened as though by a dreamless sleep… It is in these silent receptive moments that the soul of man is sometimes visited by an awareness of what holds the world together.” Piper, Leisure, The Basis of Culture, 40-42

(That first picture I posted, of that tree top… in the bottom left corner, that tiny black blur… that’s the F18!)

I woke up feeling tired and under the weather; two nights of fitful sleep and a battle with some kind of virus, I think. Yesterday was not so fruitful. At one point I spent 45 minutes working on one, mediocre, three sentence paragraph. I opened the blinds this morning to a very cold, grey, snowy morning, and wondered if I should maybe head home early. But then I saw this…

Just a few green, green blades of grass defiantly standing against the snow. I smiled, got dressed, and went upstairs for breakfast. Before eating I read these two verses from the next chapter of the prophet;

“A green Shoot will sprout from Jesse’s stump,
From his roots a budding Branch.
The life giving Spirit of God will hover over him,
The Spirit that brings wisdom and understanding.
The Spirit that instills knowledge and fear-of-God”
Isaiah 11:1

And then a few verses later… a bit of encouragement regarding the vision in behind the book I’m writing;

“The whole earth will be brimming with knowing God-Alive,
A living knowledge of God ocean-deep, ocean-wide.”

We live life thinking we know. We have faith in ourselves, in our senses, in our limited perception of things. We believe that we can see; that we understand. We think we have control.

Sitting down to write this week, I’ve had moments where I realize that I have nothing to say, that I don’t know a thing. It’s at these times that the Knower often speaks…

Recounting all of the stories that have played out over the past five years reminds me of His providence.

Sensing a leading hand in writing an early book chapter, “Include this, don’t include this, leave this until later…”

Looking at a distant Crowsnest foothill and knowing that there’s more going on than meets my eye – a pair of binoculars reveal reality; three tiny rock outcroppings are actually elk.

A deer just walked by.

Reading the prophet this morning, God spoke to our knowing arrogance when he said, “Does an axe take over from the one who swings it? Does a saw act more important than the sawyer? As if a shovel did its shoveling by use of a ditch digger! As if a hammer used the carpenter to pound nails!”
Isaiah 10:15, MSG

I find I have to work to free my imagination in order to find the story that is this book. The story is there, I just need to get to the place where I can know it, see it.

This morning I took a few pictures of some imaginary wild-life that surrounds this cabin. There’s a lynx hiding in an old tree stump just outside the window. If you look out from the kitchen you can see Mr. Beaver from the Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe, foraging in the snow. Near the front door the water freezes into eagle talons and even the icicles are magical at this writer’s den; they grow horizontally!

Many times over the past few years I’ve dreamt about writing a book. After a few tenuous false starts it looks like the time is finally now. I’m both exhilerated and petrified! Who am I to write a book? And yet I have to. I’m compelled too…

And it seems like the doors of opportunity are now opening wide. The leadership team at the church has given me a week a month, for the next nine months, to complete the task. I can still hear their voices in that meeting… they all had this, ‘Of course you need to do this’ tone. Wonderfully affirming. In fact, most people I speak to offer the same encouragement. And let me tell you, it’s nice to have. Because the moment you start letting people know that you’re doing this, you begin to feel hugely vulnerable and exposed. What if you can’t write a book? What if it sucks? What if…

I’m not going to worry too much about that though. As I said, the doors seem to be opening; two weeks from now I attend a writers conference in the States (got in after registration closed!), and the week after that I head out to a cabin in the foothills to begin writing.

At times (usually when I’m on a day off, on a long walk, with a clear head) I can see the whole book, completed already. I see the images and chapter titles, the stories, the narrative thread pulling it all together. The moment I turn my brain off, the book gets turned on. Very exciting. The time seems right.