Flight of the Wild
Goose |
One of the most delightful things I experienced at the National House Church Conference in Denver was a taste of Celtic Christianity. The Celtic Christians, led by St. Patrick, stood in stark contrast to their Roman Catholic counterparts (although Celtic Christianity was a part of Roman Catholicism, their ways were significantly different. For one, the Celtic Christians were more a “Do as I do” tribe rather than a “Do as I teach” group. This meant that those outside of the Christian faith saw the Celtic Christians living the Christian life and were both amazed and interested in becoming a part of the faith. Conversely, when you think of Christians you know, which of their lives is so attractive that you just can’t stand to not be like them? Where is that kind of life? Which brings me to the wild goose. The Celts looked at nature and saw God revealed in all His glory and they understood God best when they took symbols from what they experienced. The Holy Spirit was symbolized by the wild goose. Doves were docile and delicate, but the wild goose was untamable, free, and unpredictable. Instead of a soft coo, the wild goose was noisy and raucous. And it seemed always to be on the move—on a pilgrimage ordained by the Lord Himself. Jesus said that those Christians who were led by the Spirit were like the wind—you don’t know where it comes from and you don’t know where it’s going. A Christian who follows the wild goose is wild and free themselves. They have lives that are less than predictable. They live life to the full (John 10:10). They are wild and free, untamable either by society that would bind them with lies or by religion that would chain them with duty and obligation. A life following in the tailwind of the wild goose. That’s the kind of life that calls to our innermost being and awakens the lethargic longings within. The problem is, we know few—if any—Christians who have discovered the flight path. I wish I could tell you that there were seven simple steps to achieving that life, but the truth is, that isn’t so. Learning to fly with the Holy Spirit is to learn a different kind of life. It’s learning faith and trust and how to let go. It’s letting God explore the nooks and crannies of your heart—not with a candle, but with a miner’s light so He can crawl down into those hidden caverns beneath our shame to excavate and alleviate the wounds. It’s healing those hidden wounds and realizing they’re not shameful, but that they’re scars worthy of a Purple Heart, because we got those wounds doing battle for our soul. They’re only shameful in the dark. In the light of day they are what make us strong. There is much to learn and much to experience before we can fly with the wild goose. However, doing nothing is the guarantee that we’ll never even leave the ground—like so many Christians we know. To get a running start, here are a few things I’ve learned that may help.
I could go on, but that’s a start. If you really want to live life to its fullest—to live a life that follows the wild goose, I’d invite you to begin talking about this very thing in your House Churches. Share your desires. Learn to pray and to listen together. And commit to following wherever the wild goose flies. |