Posts Tagged ‘Andrew’

by Andrew Schumacher

So here we are moving into Holy Week already. And so it’s time for my final Lenten post. This past Wednesday of fasting was more or less like the previous weeks. It was a day of preparation, not just preparing for the coming passion of Christ, but a day of preparation in anticipation of my wife and I moving on Thursday. So going about my routine, all day long I knew we had our work cut out for us Wednesday night with lots of packing that still needed to get done. Wednesday then, was kind of the calm before the storm. Fasting grounded me in an otherwise hectic time. But then it was time to break the fast and get to work! And oh boy I couldn’t wait to tear open the bag of Leo’s Coney Island takeout we picked up for dinner and start shoveling in hot dog covered with chili.

Food is soooo good after fasting all day…

Here’s the deal. I wish I had a master revelation to share with everyone after carrying out my Lenten master plan. But I don’t think that quite occurred. However, here are some thoughts and reflections from the past several weeks of Lenten discipline that have been floating around in my head and heart.

1. To start, fasting, on a physical level, turned out to be a little easier than I’d thought it’d be. Part of me doesn’t want to admit this to you or to myself because somehow it seems more legitimate, more hardcore, to have to persevere through something really difficult. My body, much to my surprise, tolerated the no-food-only-water thing pretty well. Sure, I was darn hungry all day long, no doubt. But it was a fairly low level hunger, no sharp pains or headache like I’ve had before. When it comes down to it, I can only thank God for sustaining me through in this way. Thanks be to God!

2. When it would come time to break the fast each week, I got very excited for food, which is natural I suppose. But as I would begin to eat again, I sometimes found myself eating with a sort of urgency, or even with a little greed mixed in. It’s as if I felt like I needed to store up extra food for my body. There was something about it that I didn’t like. It felt like my body and mind weren’t trusting the whole “give us this day our daily bread” thing and instead were hedging on God providing that next meal. I’m not totally sure what to make of this feeling, but I definitely found myself saying, “Whoa, Andrew, just be thankful for this meal that God provided. That’s enough for now.” I try to thank God for each meal I consume, but fasting made me realize I don’t always trust enough in each meal being a true blessing from God.

3. Given the “right” circumstances, I actually do enjoy spending time in devotion to God with Bible study and prayer. I qualify with “right” circumstances because I realize that too often I’m trying to shoe horn it in with too many other things going on. And that just doesn’t work. Or, another common theme is that I have trouble staying awake because it’s the end of the day. Here’s where my Lenten discipline of starting Wednesday mornings with Bible study and prayer made a big difference. I was awake! I could be quiet and calm, focusing on God’s presence, without falling asleep! Revolutionary. Most of the time I feel like Jesus’s disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane having fallen asleep each time Jesus comes back to them. Pathetic I tell myself! But then there I go again, nodding off. Surely I can do better about working this time into any given non-fasting day so that I’m awake and alert while showing my devotion to God.

4. Here’s some scripture I came across this past Wednesday. It’s from John 6:54.

“Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink.”

This of course sounded crazy to Jesus’s followers because at the time they couldn’t have understood exactly what he meant. Two-thousand years later, it’s easy to think dipping-the-bread-into-the-cup kind of thoughts when hearing these words from Jesus. But over the course of these weeks I’ve thought more about the **real** aspect of what Jesus offers all of us. When we strive to participate fully in what Jesus Chris offers, we’re given life abundant. Maybe it’s not the life we expected or wanted, or maybe it’s even a life of being hungry sometimes or most times, but it is real living. It is what we were meant for.

I thank God for having seen me through these 40 days and pray that I can open myself up to feasting on God’s abundant life and love. And that will be enough to satisfy my hunger.

Thanks for reading!

by Andrew Schumacher

So here I am four weeks into my Lenten journey of fasting, and I might be a little bit lost on the road. Let me explain. I’ve been carrying out my weekly Wednesday plan (fasting, extra prayer, extra Bible, extra time devoted to God), but it ocurred to me this week that after the newness of the first couple weeks has worn off, I increasingly find myself wondering what I’m supposed to be focusing on, or not focusing on, as a part of my fasting discipline. The only thing I for sure know is what Jesus has to say about it in the Bible. I paraphrase here:

When you fast, don’t go around looking all sullen with “I’m miserable and fasting” written across your forehead. Instead, wash your face, comb your hair, and go about looking to other folks like it’s any other normal day. And if you fast in this way, God will reward you.

Ok, check. I think I’ve done a decent job with this part. I think I understand Jesus’ words: fasting is between me and God (and anyone who reads this blog), and outward appearances of suffering etc do not belong as part of this discipline.

But beyond that, I’m a little bit in the dark. I guess I could have done some research before setting out on this journey (and I did do a very little bit), but I guess I was more focused on just seeing where the Spirit took me, versus having some sort of agenda.

When fasting, am I supposed to think about food? Not supposed to think about food? Am I to ponder the fact that my not eating for 24 hours is nothing compared to folks who are chronically hungry? Questions like these have been popping up throughout Lent. Maybe you’re thinking, “Andrew, you should have figured some of this out before deciding to fast.” But I’m not so sure there are pre-packaged answers to these questions. In reading others’ blog posts and in listening to sermons on Sundays, I keep hearing the word wilderness. Well, maybe this is my wilderness. A little lost. A little confused. Wondering where this journey is really leading to.

I think I need to get more comfortable “living into” the whole wilderness idea. You see, I like things to be nice and neat. Sure, I like to think I make room for the Spirit to move, but the room I’m allowing is probably the size of a shoe box when God wants it to be an expansive concert hall.

But one thing I do know is that God is present in all of this. My wilderness is not so much feeling alone in the middle of nowhere. Here’s how I imagine it: I’m out there in the barren field, but God is sitting not far from me on a tree stump or something. I have all these questions running through my head and don’t always know what I’m doing with this fasting thing. And God smiles a little, kind of amused. God doesn’t say much. But God is definitely there. And come to think of it, that’s enough for me.

by Andrew Schumacher

For the first time during this Lenten blogging journey, I come to the computer without a ton that I think I want to say. After completing my usual Wednesday fasting and other injections of “God time” throughout the day, I thought to myself, “hmm…I’m not sure what to blog about this week.” Then I started to get kind of anxious about it. Maybe it’s a mid-Lenten malaise? Maybe I just wasn’t paying enough attention to God this week? But reading my fellow Lenten bloggers’ posts, I benefited from their wisdom and own realizations: This is a journey. It’s not going to “feel” awesome and enlightening all the time. And focusing on what we think we’re lacking doesn’t give God the credit God deserves. There is always grace to be found. ALWAYS.

Continuing my way through Luke (at a snail’s pace), I have to say, the whole part leading up to the crucifixion kind of snuck up on me. I’ve read through the different Gospels multiple times, and I remember what happens, but this time I felt myself thinking, “Shoot, it’s already time for Jesus to die? Seems like he just got going with his ministry.” If I feel that way now, two thousand years later, imagine how the Disciples must have felt. It’s almost unfathomable.

Then reading on, I got to the resurrection. Here’s what the angels at the tomb had to say (Luke 24:6-8):

“He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised.’ Then they remembered his words.”

Then the women go to tell the Eleven and all the others, and nobody believes the women. The Bible says the women’s words seemed to them like nonsense.

Nonsense? Seriously? Sometimes I wonder why the women and the Disciples didn’t get it. I realize I’m judging Jesus’ Disciples here, which probably isn’t the coolest thing to be doing, but come on! When the women tell them what the angels said, don’t you think it would at least ring a bell? It’s like they seriously underestimated what God was capable so much that these words about the resurrection–something Jesus had more than hinted at–seemed like nonsense. Incredible.

But then I take a step back. Seriously underestimating God’s power and love and ultimate victory…that sounds familiar. Bingo, Andrew: been there, done that. Realizing I’m not that different from the Disciples is at once comforting and frightening.

So I went about my day of fasting and such. A good day I suppose. And once again I am thankful for God’s sustaining power.

I did realize something this week though: I think I kind of look forward to Wednesdays. And not in some self-denial-feeling-good-about-not-eating kind of way. I think I like these days of fasting and spending more time with God because it makes me feel more purposeful. There’s more meaning, more focus, more purpose. And I love having purpose. But I also realize that except for fasting, which wouldn’t be sustainable every day of every week, the other things–Bible reading, prayer, sitting quietly–I could make these more of a part of my life every day than they currently are. My first thought though, is: it wouldn’t feel as special and extra purposeful anymore. But I’m not so sure about that. True listening, communing, and speaking with God as a matter of daily living would in all likelihood lead to something pretty darn special.

by Andrew Schumacher

I’m not going to lie. I was hungry during this week’s Wednesday fast. I mean really hungry. I was really really really looking forward to dinner pretty much all day. But more on that in a bit.

Thankfully, this week I was again able to follow largely the same routine I had the week prior: Up early. No food. Prayer & Bible reading. No food. Mid-day worship service. No food. HC open sanctuary. And then that glorious thing, dinner. You see the theme here. I had food on my mind quite a bit.

But other things, too, managed to filter through. Reading Luke again first thing in the morning, I read the part where Pilate has Jesus in custody and calls everyone together to tell them he’s looked things over and can’t find any evidence of this Jesus guy actually inciting a rebellion like all the people accused him of. I’ve probably read or been read that passage dozens of times, but this time I thought to myself, “Hey wait a minute, Pilate got it wrong. Jesus kind of was guilty of causing a pretty big disturbance in the status quo of how people lived, what they thought about community, government, etc– a rebellion if you will.” Once I heard a speaker at a Christian peace/justice conference talk about how to “take up and carry your cross” daily really meant to commit to living as a rebel in the name of Christ. I was reminded of how trying to be a disciple of Christ is serious stuff. We’re not messing around here. Except a lot of the time that’s exactly how I behave– as if I’m casually ascribing to a club that has certain beliefs. Ugh. That’s why this practice of spiritual discipline is so important.

Speaking of discipline, when I went over to the Chicago Temple’s noon time worship service during my lunch hour, we sang an awesome hymn by Charles Wesley “I Want a Principle Within.” Check out the first verse:

I want a principle within of watchful, godly fear,
A sensibility of sin, a pain to feel it near.
I want the first approach to feel of pride or wrong desire,
To catch the wandering of my will, and quench the kindling fire.

If Charles Wesley’s other six thousand hymns (seriously 6,000) don’t already prove it, here is an example of a guy who takes his faith seriously. I want a principle within of watchful, godly fear. I want to be that present to God and the Holy Spirit such that I feel my sinful wandering in the deepest part of my soul and allow God to catch and correct it. Incredible.

As I may have mentioned above, I was hungry throughout the day. I was still ok energy-wise, and my stomach cooperated pretty darn well really. But compared to last week, this Wednesday I thought about being hungry more often, and thought about how great dinner was going to be. The fact that Amy and I were going out for an uncharacteristic weekday outing to Flat Top may have contributed to this I suppose. However, we always cook up delicious meals here at the Schumacher household, so I don’t know if the promise of all-you-can-eat Flat Top made much of a difference.

In any case, I was very conscious of how I was hungering in a major way. In this case for food. People talk about hungering for God. And I guess I’ve historically thought of that idea along the lines of loving God and feeling at home in your faith community and wanting to live out the Gospel, etc. All of that is great stuff. But maybe that’s not real hungering. The feeling I had in anticipation of dinner Wednesday night was kind of intense and all-consuming (at least as far as earthly things go). A true hungering for God has got to be like a million times more intense, right? I like to think I’m seeking God most of the time (though even that is wishful thinkin). But hungering for God? I don’t think I can claim that after fasting this week.

by Andrew Schumacher

I’ve now practiced my first mid-week day of fasting as part of my Lenten journey plan. In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve also just finished a delicious dinner to break the fast. So I’m feeling pretty great right now…  But back to the day-without-food thing.

First thing this morning, I opened my Bible instead of a box of Cheerios and came across this couple of verses from Luke 20:14-15:

“But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves. For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict.”

For some reason the “make up your mind” part really jumped out at me. Make up your mind not to worry. Make up your mind to trust in God. Make up your mind to live differently according to Christ. Make up your mind to wake up in the morning and spend the first moments of the new day with God. I was reminded that practicing the things that lead to spiritual growth is ultimately a decision I make. If I made up my mind to truly be disciplined with my spiritual life the same way I was in college with academics or now am with my job, who knows where I might be. It’s a thought I’ve had before but was reminded of again this morning.

From a no-food perspective, my first fast of Lent went well I suppose. Make no mistake: I was hungry all day long. But somehow (I’m willing to say by the grace of God) I didn’t feel as hungry as I thought I might. For a guy who is known to sometimes have hunger pangs when lunch or dinner is delayed a few hours, I felt ok. Definitely less energy. But ok. This morning I asked God to sustain me through the day, and my prayer was certainly answered. I found that the constant hunger I felt all day seemed to make me more aware of my own existence, if that makes any sense. Maybe it was the lack of food or maybe it was the sense of purpose in carrying out my Lenten plan, but either way I think I had a little better sense of living in the moment.

When lunch rolled around, I remembered about the midday worship service the Chicago Temple holds on Wednesdays in the Loop. I used to attend those back when I was a regular Sunday attender at Chicago Temple but hadn’t been back for more than a year. With no lunch to snarf down, I decided to head over there. I arrived late but still caught the end of a very impassioned sermon a guest preacher was giving about the passage where Jesus weeps over the city of Jerusalem because they don’t know the things that make for peace. He got on a thing about how we as members of the city and of the church are to be ambassadors of Christ. When I graduated from college with my newly minted marketing degree, I was big on the idea of being a “missionary to the marketplace” in my new job. I know I’ve fallen short of what God could do through me in that capacity, and so it was a good reminder to hear. The service ended with some awesome classical guitar music, and I lingered, thanking God for bringing me to this place.

On the way home from work, I did have a bit of time to stop at Holy Covenant where the sanctuary is specially open on Wednesdays during Lent from 5:30 to 7 for prayer. There were a few other folks around, but at one point I found myself all alone. I was cold (radiators hadn’t kicked in yet) and very hungry, and yet I was reminded of how much I enjoy just hanging out at “home” in a faith community. Again, I was thankful for being in that moment, cold, hunger, and all.

So, it was a full day. In the midst of not eating, I managed to insert three installments of (what I’ll call) “spiritual time” that normally wouldn’t be a part of my day. Was I particularly open to hearing God? I don’t know. It didn’t really feel like it. I think I was hoping for more ah-ha moments or something. I guess we all kind of yearn for that sort of thing. But that’s not really fair to God I suppose. It was a day of fullness. God sustained me through the day on this first step of my Lenten journey. And for that I am very thankful.

by Andrew Shumacher

Hi. My name is Andrew, and I’ve never blogged about anything before.

I was intrigued when approached to participate in this project, and figured it was as good a time as any to make my official “blogging debut.” Though you might consider yourself a recipient of the “soul-baring” that my fellow bloggers and I are attempting here, selfishly I’m getting something from you: accountability. I’ve found that the “discipline” part of the whole “spiritual discipline” thing can be tough. But I’ve said yes, my picture is up there on the page, and so I’m committed for the long haul of Lent! Thanks to you for being part of the community that will hold me accountable to my little undertaking. It is appreciated.

For Lent this year, I’ll be taking on the spiritual practice of fasting from food. It’s actually something I’ve done before, but it’s been a couple years. For me, fasting from food feels like a pretty radical thing. I know it’s right there in the Bible along with prayer and all the rest, but this one seems to make me realize what a wild thing it can be (as it should be) to follow Christ. While I’ve fasted before as a part of Lent, I’ve historically had a tougher time with the spiritually reflective aspect. So I’m actually really looking forward to the act of blogging and getting the thoughts of my head, heart, and even my stomach out there.

Ok, here are the nuts and bolts (which may morph a bit as we go, but this is the plan): Each week I’ll refrain from eating food beginning after dinner on Tuesday night until dinner on Wednesday. So breakfast and lunch (both of which I regularly enjoy) will be out. In order to try and focus on where the Spirit is in all of this, I also plan on spending time first thing Wednesday morning (time I normally spend eating breakfast and making my sack lunch for the day) in Bible study and prayer. And at the end of the day before breaking the fast at dinner, I hope to stop by Holy Covenant where on Wednesday evenings during Lent the sanctuary will be open for prayer and other methods of meditation and reflection.

Am I looking forward to these six weeks? Well, yes and no. I really do love food. So being hungry doesn’t sound like an awesome time. But I trust that it will open me up to hear some things that perhaps God is already telling me, but I’m too busy chewing some delicious food to notice.

So not-eating is the first part, but then there’s the listening and reflecting. I’m not always so great at these, so I am looking at morning and evening prayer as a challenge, too. Wednesday will be the central project, but of course I’ll try to keep God on the front burner the other days, too.

So here we go.