The winner will receive free registration for two at a Laity Lodge retreat within the next 12-month period. By submitting photos in this contest, your participation grants Laity Lodge permission to share these photos on our website and in online and print publications. We ask that all submissions be original, taken within the designated time period, and not infringing on the rights of any third party (including copyright, trademarks, or rights of privacy or publicity).

We are excited for you to share your Laity Lodge memories with us. Check out our Flickr page  or slideshow to view all entries or the Laity Lodge Events section on Facebook® for more details.

In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and sauté the sliced chorizo until it begins to brown around the edges, 7 to 8 minutes. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until caramelized around the edges and softened somewhat, 4 to 6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Add 1/4 cup of the sherry and cook for 1 minute. Add the shrimp, paprika, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon black pepper, and cook, stirring occasionally until pink and cooked through, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the remaining 1/4 cup of sherry and 1/4 cup olive oil, lemon juice, parsley, and remainder of the salt and pepper; stir to combine and remove from the heat. Serve immediately on small plates with any accumulated cooking juices spooned over the top. Pass the bread at the table.

Yield: 6 to 8 appetizer servings
Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook TIme: 23 minutes

As the subtitle suggests, Practice Resurrection is a book about Christian discipleship (i.e., “growing up in Christ”). But what exactly does it mean to practice resurrection? The term is borrowed from a poem by Wendell Berry. With it, Peterson means to suggest that Christian discipleship is “an open invitation to live eternity in time.” Or to put it another way, practicing resurrection is the process of living out our true identity as the baptized people of God in the world.

You’re probably not alone if you’re still asking the question, what does it mean to live out our true identity and how do you do it? At this point, readers of Peterson fall into two camps: those frustrated by his conspicuous lack of practical application, and those who are content to read on without it. If you prefer books with ample “how to” instructions or “steps” to follow, you might fall into the first group. However, if you’re willing to suspend those expectations and wade into the highly descriptive waters of Peterson’s vision, then you might discover new revelations about “what is going on and has been going on since the beginning of creation.”

The grounding text for Practice Resurrection is Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. Following Paul’s lead, Peterson spends considerable time describing the identity of the Church, not as she exists visibly in the world, but at the level of her DNA. Peterson does this by describing what God has been up to with the creation of the church, drawing parallels between Luke 1-2 and Acts 1-2, the birth of our Savior Jesus and the birth of the Church. Peterson allows plenty of room for the church to be her broken and neurotic self, but with vivid description and subtle allusion he describes the church in all her created beauty, while saving some choice words for counterfeit she sometimes becomes.

Indeed, as a mutual friend says: “Eugene puts a lot of energy into saying ‘no’.” With signature feistiness, Peterson is quick to point out what the church has become: individualistic, competitive, consumer-driven, disembodied—to name just a few.  But the church is NOT any of these things. As Peterson puts it, we maintain our baptized identity “by keeping company with people who have firsthand knowledge of who we are: men and women blessed, chosen, destined, bestowed, lavished, made known, gathered up—by God!” This notion of keeping company with people called and shaped by God is Peterson’s argument for sticking with church.

In one great section of the book, Peterson addresses the relationship between work and grace, a familiar tension we too often reduce to an either/or proposition. These are some of the most poignant words on God’s grace I’ve read in a long time. But they are complemented by an uncompromisingly high view of our daily work. Peterson asks, “[W]hat changes when Paul sets ‘work’ as a companion word alongside ‘grace’ if the next day, having been ‘raised up with him,’ we return to the same jobs?” Answer: “[W]e are no longer working for General Electric, the government, the school board, the hospital . . . We are God’s work and doing God’s work.”

One of my favorite qualities of Peterson is his ability to uncover deep meaning from seemingly insignificant sources. In this regard, Peterson is every bit the artist that he is the scholar. The stories he tells, the poets he quotes, the references he makes, and the way he reads Scripture, all put together, inspire my imagination like few other living writers. I find myself mildly wistful knowing that Practice Resurrection is the last major work Eugene Peterson intends to write. But I’m comforted knowing there is plenty of content here to discuss and consider for years to come.

In the introduction to Orthodoxy, G. K. Chesterton relates a story that he had always meant to write.  It’s about an English yachtsman who sets sail, miscalculates his route, and—after weeks on the ocean—lands back in England under the impression that it’s a new island in the South Seas. 

The intrepid explorer, armed to the teeth and speaking in sign language, plants the Union Jack on the barbaric shore that turns out to be the beach at Brighton.  Is the man a fool?  Of course he is.  But he’s a happy fool, according to Chesterton, because what could be more delightful than to have all the fascinating terrors of going abroad . . . combined with the security of coming home again?  To have braced oneself to discover New South Wales and then realize—with a gush of happy tears—that it was really old South Wales?

That yachtsman is me.  I have, in the course of my life, rejected so much on the familiar shore of the Christian life—heroically sailing the seas of limitless grace and anti-legalism—only to get washed up on that shore that is at once familiar and undiscovered.  Who says it’s better to travel hopefully than to arrive?

A case in point:  Wasn’t it drummed into me that a morning quiet time with the Lord is an essential spiritual discipline?  (Someone tell me who it was who said words to the effect: “I pray an hour a day, but sometimes I’m very busy.  On those days, I pray two hours.”)  But I sailed far away from this practice, eschewing fussy observances like daily devotions.

Then, about ten years ago, I decided—for some reason that I cannot remember now—that I needed to read the Bible.  The whole Bible.  I knew it could be done in a year, with just a little determination, at 15 minutes a day.  I embarked on the project one New Years’ Day, and with starts and stops—there were times when I had to read several days’ ration of scripture to make up for the days I’d missed—I managed to read the Bible through in the year. 

But it all went by so fast!  And I didn’t begin to come to grips with the drama that had unfolded, a few chapters at a time.  So the next year, I got out a different translation and started in again.  I think it was in the second year that I realized that I was less likely to get behind if I did the reading first thing in the morning, before everyone was up and about in the house, before going to work.

The morning habit began to be established.  I soon found that, in the quietness, reading Scripture led me into an attitude of prayer.  Especially as I read the Psalms, those words would become my own words, things that I too could say to God.  And reading the words of Jesus prompted me to respond to him, to speak back to him on the basis of what he had said.

I’m willing to call daily devotion a discipline, although it is certainly one of the happiest disciplines I’ve ever practiced—involving as it does a comfortable chair, a view of the garden, a gentle beam of light on the page, and the morning’s first cup of coffee.   I look forward to this as I go to sleep, and it propels me out of bed in the morning.  On the occasions when I’m robbed of it by circumstances . . . I feel the loss, just as I might feel disappointment if a lunch date with a close friend was cancelled.

I’ve used the early morning hours to read through the Bible several more times, and to read devotional books as well.  Anything that orients me towards God works for me.  It’s been a time to reflect, to pray, to commit myself and the day ahead to the Lord.  And because this is done in the first hours of the day, it has been a subtle yet strong reminder that my day is not my own, and neither is my life. 

What a happy thing it is to land on the familiar shore after so many years at sea.

Alice Lawhead spent two weeks at Laity Lodge this past spring with her husband, Stephen Lawhead, who was writer-in-residence. She is a published author, non-executive director of Lion Hudson publishing (UK), and manager for the writing career of her husband.

Rodney Reeves

This summer, Laity Lodge has invited a number of guests to join in a conversation about “the good news of reconciliation” with God and with our neighbors. Although the Gospel’s ministry of such reconciliation is preached and practiced from Mississippi to Cape Town, from Dublin to the Middle East, enmity between people still arouses conflict of apartheid, war, and genocide.  

Recently we had the opportunity to touch base with the two speakers for this retreat, (musician Buddy Greene and New Testament scholar Rodney Reeves) about their excitement for this upcoming weekend.

Laity Lodge (LL): In what areas do you see the need for reconciliation in your own context and sphere of life?
Rodney Reeves (RR): Strangely enough, I see the need for reconciliation among Christians more than with unbelievers. In fact, when Paul wrote about himself as an “ambassador for Christ” in his ministry of reconciliation, he was imploring his Corinthian converts to be reconciled to God (2 Cor. 5:20). That strikes me as peculiar, because most of us think that our role as ambassadors of reconciliation—turning enemies into friends—has to do with our relationships with unbelievers. And yet, Paul was challenging his converts to be reconciled to God. That’s because they weren’t getting along with each other. So, I identify with Paul’s ministry of reconciliation as I try to minister to the Body of Christ.
Buddy Greene (BG): As a son of the South, having been raised and having lived there most of my life, I have seen segregation firsthand, and lived through the civil rights movement to present day. There are still obvious signs of racism and unhealthy attitudes that reign in community life, including many black and white issues unresolved from slavery and segregation. This idea of national sin is something we feel, especially in the South. We also have an understanding of “modern day slavery” represented by many of the immigrants moving up from Mexico. These groups are willing to come and work for significantly lower wages, and people are exploiting these worker’s rights as equals . . . the root is still enmity, fear, and resentment coming from age-old sin between people groups. But if I have learned anything, I know there is more that we can do to deal with the past than just bury it.

Buddy Greene

LL: How do you see Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians as an applicable text for current relation conflicts?
RR: Paul was encouraging a church overcome with fear, and those fears were contributing to the problems of divisiveness. Like most of Paul’s converts (as well as the entire early church), the Ephesians were having a difficult time living out the idea that “in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female.” In other words, the things that divided them in the world—ethnicity, status, gender, economics—were causing problems within the Body of Christ. So, Paul wrote this letter to the Ephesians (which was also a circular letter for all the churches in that region) to help them deal with the root of the problems of divisiveness: fear.
BG: Paul always reminds us in the letters to the early churches what God has done in the Gospel: reconciled us to himself. It is all God’s initiative; be reconciled to each other and forgive one another. As you have been so loved, you also should love. Paul shows great church leadership, and then moves the church out into the community. In chapter 4, Paul speaks about the “oneness of God” and basically says, “This is God’s will, so get on board.” I am very excited about this retreat because in issues of race, or other topics that polarize us, we rarely consult Scripture. We should be looking more often to God’s will for the world and discover what he wants to do in restoring and recreating his creation.

LL: How does music, in general, speak to these themes of conflict?
BG: Music is art, and art always taps into and releases the imagination. It connects us to our longing and is a powerful gift from God to help us. It is subversive in getting behind our defenses, and when something comes in a compelling story or a beautiful melody, we are often more willing to listen.
RR: One of Paul’s strategies to get the Ephesians to see how they could celebrate their diversity in Christ (Jews and Gentiles, male and female, slaves and freedmen) was to recognize the horizontal aspect of worship. I’ve always found it a bit peculiar that Paul said we “speak to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.” I always thought that when we sing, we’re singing to God. But, Paul would have us consider the implications of what we’re singing to each other; e.g., the psalms were songs about Israel’s love affair with their God. An yet, Paul encourages his Gentile converts to sing these psalms as if they were singing about themselves—that’s because, in Christ, they were children of Abraham too. Can you imagine what that must have sounded like to the Jewish Christians? “They’re singing our songs!” Indeed, they were.

LL: What are some specifics examples of songs or music that have impacted your life on these issues?
BG: Going back to the 1960s, “Blowing in the Wind,” “Hard Rain Is Gonna Fall,” and “Blackbird.” I remember finding out about 12 years ago that “Blackbird” was Paul McCartney’s take on the racial issues in America and that he was singing to the downtrodden segregated black in America. “. . . Take these broken wings and learn to fly.” It is great poetry and solidarity to build up the people receiving injustice. During the retreat, we will be using some of these songs, and others, to get the conversation going, because the message is not too far off from where we are today.

LL: What topic or issue are you most looking forward to discussing during this retreat?
RR: How music is servant to our soul. God created music so that we would know how to express the inexpressible. Then, we dare to add words to the inexpressible, so that, when we sing, we’re finding agreement—we’re saying the same thing together—no small achievement when it comes to Christians and our faith.
BG: We know that people’s defenses will be up, possibly out of denial in their own hearts. I remember thinking that I wasn’t racist, until I realized that all my friends looked just like me. If we are excited about racial harmony, this should be seen in our relationships. I have a pet phrase, saying “I really ought to get out more.” We are typically more comfortable staying safe and to ourselves, instead of putting ourselves out into areas of diversity. But honestly, we cannot grow, or even fully discuss these topics without putting ourselves out there. Are we moving out of the belief of the Gospel that God is bringing us together? If so, we must choose if we want to be a part of it.

LL: Other than the issue of reconciliation, what topics do you see strongly and dually supported by song and Scripture?
BG: Music gets us in touch with our longings, and often, part of those longings is to live forever or the idea of eternity. The difference comes in knowing about heaven, and how we can live out our days on earth with that eternal hope. Longing to love and be loved is also a topic seen in Scripture and songs, and we must ask ourselves, “What is the kind of love with which God would have us involved, and what does a perversion of that love look like?” Scripture specifically points these things out, but art can help us to see our place or bring ourselves into the story.

Odessa Settles

LL: Tell us about your relationship with Odessa and Calvin Settles.
BG: Odessa and Calvin are brother and sister and, along with other family members, make up the Settles Connection, as well as coming from the lineage of the Fairfield Four. They have that style of traditional black gospel in their blood, which is how they first came to my attention. Odessa and I were both playing a huge event about 5 years ago, and when I saw her perform, she was just alive. I was so excited to meet her. We had an instant chemistry and became huge fans of one another. Our paths continued to cross a few times, and one night we were playing at the same listening room, The Bluebird Café. Ashley Cleveland, who will also be participating in this retreat, was also there, and it was just a group of people playing gospel songs. Both Odessa and Calvin have loving hearts and a unique openness to people. Calvin is also an excellent piano player who knows those black gospel piano rhythms, and honestly, just makes me want to grab my harmonica.  

Combine cherries, water, granulated sugar, and ⅛ teaspoon salt in a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a simmer, and cook, stirring occasionally, for 20 minutes. Let cool.

Meanwhile, blend cream cheese, ricotta, vanilla, confectioners’ sugar, and remaining ⅛ teaspoon salt in a food processor until smooth. Divide cherries among 4 glasses, then top each with ricotta mixture. Sprinkle tops with crumbled amaretti cookies, and serve immediately.

Buddy Greene has been coming to Laity Lodge for several years, primarily as the musical host of our January Men’s Retreat. In the summertime, however, we’ve begun featuring “musical conversations” with Buddy Greene and a second contributor. The idea is to have a dialog between the speakers and you, the guest, about a given subject while drawing from Scripture and various musical references. Buddy is a seasoned veteran of bluegrass, country, gospel, and American roots music with an ability to connect with his audience in the most joyful and winsome way. This year, we’re honored to welcome New Testament scholar and teacher, Rodney Reeves, to help us explore themes of “reconciliation” in the book of Ephesians. Rodney is equally engaging when teaching the scriptures as Buddy is when playing the harmonica or guitar. In addition to Buddy and Rodney will be two remarkable women–Odessa Settles and Ashley Cleveland. Incorporating Black Gospel songs from the past 100 years, these two ladies will join Buddy and Rodney as we consider the reconciling and redeeming work of Jesus Christ in our families, neighborhoods, and churches. 

Another retreat that we’re excited about this summer is with Timothy George and Chris Seay. Timothy George is Dean and Professor of Divinity at Beeson Divinity School in Birmingham, Alabama. Chris Seay is an author, speaker, and pastor of Ecclesia Church in Houston, Texas. Although separated by a generation, both men are committed to the question of what it means to be a faithful disciple of Jesus in these complex times. Their topic might surprise you. The Protestant reformer, John Calvin, turned 500 last July, but his influence is as strong as ever. One year ago, Time magazine credited “The New Calvinism” as one of the “10 Ideas Changing the World Right Now.” Timothy and Chris will examine the impact of John Calvin on the life of the church today—his theology, spirituality, and the controversies that still swirl around his name. Joining them will be multi-Grammy Award winner, Ashley Cleveland, and her husband, Kenny Greenberg. Kenny was recently nominated Best Guitar Player for the second year in a row by the Academy of Country Music. 

It’s going to be a great summer at Laity Lodge, and we are certain there is a retreat that is right for you. Of course, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact us.

Cairns is a highly regarded poet, and accordingly, knows how to say more with less. Weighing in at 115 pages, The End of Suffering wastes no time making its point: “[O]ur lives are riddled with death,” Cairns writes, “[t]he good news . . . is that even this death is potentially infused with life.” To his credit, Cairns succeeds at making such statements without ever sounding pious, sanctimonious, or glib. The End ofSuffering is not a self-help book with silver-lining anecdotes. Neither is it an intellectual stab at the theodicy debate (i.e., the relationship between evil and the existence of God).  As the title suggests, The End of Suffering anticipates a day when mercy will have the final word. But also present in the title is the conviction that “affliction, suffering, and pain are—even if they are nothing else—remarkably effective.”

What Cairns finds so effective about pain and affliction I’ll let you discover for yourself. But Cairns demonstrates a refreshing ability to talk about suffering without always talking about suffering. I was captivated by his many references to the Greek Orthodox tradition and the wisdom found there. But I also appreciated his thoughts on prayer, community, Scripture, the material world, and his Labrador retrievers. 

The End of Suffering is one of those rare books I plan to have available to give away. I’m glad it’s small enough to fit in my pocket, because I plan on carrying my copy with me for a while.

I love these traditions. (Oh, for the record, I didn’t wear Easter dresses. But I love seeing my daughter in hers!) It’s convenient that I am a fan of Easter traditions because, when I was the Senior Pastor of Irvine Presbyterian Church, I participated in four services each Easter morning, starting with a sunrise service at 6:00 a.m. As you might guess, one of my Easter traditions included taking a nap in the afternoon!

In the last few years, I added one more tradition to those I have cherished for years. This one might be surprising to you. It might even seem a little odd. Here it is: During the season of Easter, I listen to Handel’s Messiah.

Now before you think I’m confusing Easter and Christmas, let me explain. I know that we tend to associate the Messiah with Christmas, and for good reason. The first part of this musical masterpiece does celebrate the birth of Jesus: “For unto us a child is born . . .” Yet if you listen carefully to the whole Messiah, you may be surprised to learn that the birth of Jesus comes about 25% into the piece. The death of Jesus comes near the halfway point. The final 40% of the Messiah celebrates the resurrection of Jesus and its implications. This means, in terms of number of minutes, the Messiah is more of an Easter piece than a Christmas piece.

But what about the beloved “Hallelujah Chorus”? Isn’t it found in the Christmas section? Not in Handel’s original composition. It comes at the end of Part II as a celebration of the resurrection and the beginning of Christ’s reign as “King of kings and Lord of lords.”

The fact that George Frideric Handel (1685-1759) intended the Messiah as an Easter celebration is evident, not only in the libretto (the words) of the piece, but also in the circumstances of its debut. Handel’s masterpiece was first performed in Dublin on April 13, 1742, 19 days after Easter. This is surely no accident. If he had intended the Messiah for Christmas, surely he would not have planned for an Eastertide grand opening.

Let me be clear that I don’t have a problem with anyone listening to the Messiah during the season of Advent and Christmas, I do this very thing every year, quite happily, I might add. Moreover, one of the highlights of my musical life was joining the choir of Irvine Presbyterian Church as we sang the Christmas portion of the Messiah (plus the Hallelujah Chorus) along with an orchestra. (You can hear a short clip of our choir by clicking here. It’s a QuickTime file.)

But let me encourage you to join me in what might be a new Easter tradition for you. Listen to Handel’s Messiah all the way through. It takes a little more than two hours, and is well worth the time. You might also want to study the libretto, noting the brilliant use of scripture. But then just let the music lead you to a joyful celebration of salvation in Jesus, beginning with his birth, continuing through his life, death, and resurrection.

I will close by quoting the last words of the Messiah, other than the three minute series of “Amens.”

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, and hath redeemed us to God by his blood, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. Blessing and honour, glory and power be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever.” (based on Revelation 5:12-13)