experiencing dependence
Dependence. Fact, inevitable, life-giving, freeing, uncomfortable, painful, honest. The language, the unforced rhythm of grace? I bet a lot more words come to mind, but what's interesting is the experience and emotion that shapes the words we use about dependence; our relationship with... relationships. (Think about it.)
Experience can be really deep, too big for words. We can love so much it hurts and - even if we talk about it for ages - not nail it down, still be overwhelmed by it. Which might then beg the question:
How does God feel about us?
Image, form, colour are just another language. But sometimes a more natural language for our experience. (For one thing, we don't need to be in control, or understand something to mess about with the chalk.) Our imagery of dependence is powerful: it both expresses and shapes, even limits our understanding. The extent and limits of our faith in a God who is passionate about us growing, but says "become like a little child" (Matthew 18: 3); "I am the vine... remain in me... apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). Our wariness of being needy, of being manipulated, of how much we will be able to give, of having our hearts battered, or even broken.
The other week some of us explored those images, and had a go at experiencing dependence by making art:
 
Paul's big rant about how we are one body, where every member/ participant is essential and enriches the whole (despite any evidence to the contrary) seemed important.
So there was one piece of paper. One piece of art. Everyone was invited to talk about what they were drawing and why. Reluctant "definitely-not-an" artists were coaxed. People added to each others' work and helped one another with the tricky bits. Noone had their "own" space. Images merged and collided, people climbed over the paper and got in each others' way. Awesome.
These are some peoples' images
 " An eagle. Because it flies really high, really far, with no visible support... But it still flies. The phrase t he wind beneath my wings came to me when I was ordained two weeks ago." "And all that cool physics stuff about riding on air currents which seem to have no strength at all..." "And: Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."  " One of those diagrams from a biology text book, of a pregnant woman. That bond between mother and baby; it depends on its mother for literally everything. Physically linked... only alive because of love, because somebody wanted it to live." 
"a God who seeks us out, who comes close, who puts his arms around
us and completely accepts us, and keeps us safe. Even if we're immobilised
by shame or fear, or don't know him. That was my first experience of God,
when I'd spent a whole summer trying to work out if I could follow him, and I
was hurt and angry and horrified by the stuff I'd done..."
"Sometimes the way ahead is a big leap into the unknown. And all you can do is run, and then leap. But you find, at the moment you go over the edge, that you grow wings!"
Ezekiel 47:12 Fruit trees of all kinds will grow on both banks of the river.
Their leaves will not wither, nor will their fruit fail. Every month they will bear,
because the water from the sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will serve for
food and their leaves for healing.
Welcome to interdependent art: an allegory for church. The result was exciting, if a little crazy. (No parallels with CLC at all there, then!)
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