Eikon Church - Little Rock, AR

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Archives > November, 2009

altView: tad delay Posted by 11.30.2009 9:09 am

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“He whom I bow to only knows to whom I bow
When I attempt the ineffable Name, murmuring Thou,
And dream of Pheidian fancies and embrace in heart
Symbols (I know) which cannot be the thing thou art.
Thus always, taken at their word, all prayers blaspheme
Worshiping with frail images a folk-lore dream,
And all men in their praying, self-deceived, address
The coinage of their own unquiet thoughts, unless
Thou in magnetic mercy to thyself divert
Our arrows aimed unskillfully, beyond desert;
And all men are idolaters, crying unheard
To a deaf idol, if thou take them at their word.
Take not, O Lord, our literal sense. Lord, in thy great,
Unbroken speech our limping metaphor translate.”

-C.S. Lewis

Yesterday, a friend asked if I believe in God. It’s a necessary question, but peculiar in that it’s relevance is somewhat detached from me much in the same way that whether or not the earth is flat or whether quantum mechanics is bunk are irrelevant questions. Nobody really believes in God, at least not most of the time. Belief in god is easily affirmed or denied.

I do not believe in God.

Lewis so eloquently describes how what we call god is not, in fact, God. By our own definitions, God is transcendent to any conception, so try as we may, we can only ever speak of an idea of God, an idol. To speak of God, we necessarily suspend our belief in transcendence. We speak as atheists; every theologian is paradoxically an atheist in his moment of brilliance. To be faithful and speak of god, or to speak of god’s ideals for the world, carries a necessary betrayal of the very God we are trying to wrap our minds around. We speak as a/theists.

I do believe in God.

This lays the groundwork for humility in our theologies and philosophies. We must become comfortable with the fact that when we speak of/for god, we are at least partly wrong 100% of the time. No eye has seen; no ear has heard. Our Scriptures set an example with irresolvable inconsistencies in the poets’ and prophets’ pictures of God. The late Jacques Derrida wrote that Justice was the only nondeconstructable idea. From Justice, all blessings flow. We affirm this, and we call it Gospel. The Scriptures did not so narrowly define our theologies for us; they did not intend to. At best, the prophets could only narrow a definition of God to powerfully simple ideas: Love, Justice, Mercy, or Reconciliation. We affirm that real belief in God looks like these things. To move beyond simplicity is the essential work of theologians; to put them into practice is the essential work of the Church; to move these things into an inerrant, unquestionable system is the work of the idolater. Embrace and excommunication is our tragic history of sorting these things out.

I am called to be a theologian, and it is what I will spend my life doing. But I always feel this nagging suspicion that God is far less concerned with endless debates about what the Bible exactly is; he laughs at our foolishness, and she weeps at our often destructive misunderstandings. I assume God is far more concerned that we suspend our questions and do the things God hopes to see. We prioritize humility and Justice. There is a time for debate, but it is always a good time for Reconciliation.

This is true belief, true faith in the Divine: it is only when I do not obsess conceptualizing god and instead unconsciously, as second nature, act out god’s dreams for the world that I truly believe in God.

I hope to one day believe in God.



a day of eucharist Posted by 11.26.2009 8:47 am

eucharist thanksgiving

i grew up in a faith tradition that didn’t use the vernacular of eucharist, so it wasn’t too long ago that i began to explore its meaning and usage. as the word began to find its place in my sphere of acknowledgment, i soon discovered that it was simply another way of referring to what my—and others’—faith tradition referred to as communion or the lord’s supper. but there’s something that seems much deeper, much more rich, about the word eucharist. on this thanksgiving day, the word becomes even more vibrant and alive with meaning.

few people realize that eucharist is a greek word that literally translates to thankfulness or gratitude or giving of thanks. in paul’s account of the last supper in his first letter to the church at corinth, he recounts the events of that evening,

On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks (eucharistéō) to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this to remember me.” (1 Corinthians 11:23-24)

jesus gave thanks—eucharist. as he gathered with his closest friends and allies, he engaged in the eucharist. for what? for his body. that would soon serve as an eternal sacrifice for the very people with whom he sat. for the wine—the symbol of his soon-to-be shed blood. for remembering. remembering the brokenness that would soon be occur.

jesus and his disciples gathered for a meal. in that time of closeness and deep sharing over the bread and the wine, jesus gave thanks. he celebrated the eucharist—thanksgiving.

so it is today. as we sit down for a meal, in a time of deep closeness and reconnection and thanksgiving with those who are closest to us, let us remember. let us break bread. let us drink the wine. let us give thanks together.

but in the end, it isn’t the bread and it isn’t the wine. it isn’t the turkey. it isn’t the dressing. it’s much deeper. it’s much more lasting. it’s something that connects thousands of years of those who remember. those who break the bread and those who drink the wine. those who gather with friends and loved ones. those who celebrate the eucharist. those who remember the christ.

so may the god—on this thanksgiving day—who breaks the bread and pours from the cup, help us to remember to remember.



CONNECT evaluation form Posted by 11.23.2009 7:18 pm

connect an eikon worship gathering

last night, many of you attended our first ever worship gathering and helped to make it a big success! we had a great time and we hope you did as well.

certainly, there were plenty of places where things didn’t go as planned or that we would have loved to have a re-do, but all in all, we were well pleased. to ensure that we make it the best we possibly can, we ask you to sacrifice a few minutes of your time and fill out this evaluation. it will greatly help us to improve these types of gatherings and provide a better experience for everyone.

thanks in advance!!



altView: paula cigainero Posted by 11.23.2009 9:50 am

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A Tattoo Story

My tattoo is a summary of my religion. To most, the tattoo just looks like a pretty design. But the center of it contains a Sanskrit word. Before I tell you what that word means, I need to give you a little background on me…

In high school, I was active in the youth group at my own Catholic church, but also attended other churches of other denominations with friends. I read the Bible, but also studied world religions in a class at school. All the while, none of these experiences ever seemed to fill the hole. The hole that made me feel there was “something more” out there that I just didn’t have the answers to yet.

Then, in college, things took a real turn. I encountered a big dose of hypocrisy, served up by classmates who I heard preach one thing, but who I saw do complete opposite at house parties on the weekend. At the time, my mind couldn’t process such total opposites in word and deed. So my reaction was to just push all religion away, all together.

That attitude continued until my mid-thirties. At that point, I had grown old enough to have realized that there are hypocrites in every aspect of life. Religion was no different. If I really wanted to fill the hole, I might as well press forward and not let other people’s issues stop my progress.

So, I once again looked into the myriad of world religions. But this time around I found I could see an important thread that tied them all together — that thread being love. Sounds simple, I know. But to truly love others with no agenda is a difficult thing to do. It takes practice. In Buddhism, that is how it is discussed… as something to be practiced. Love for others is referred to as “loving-kindness” or the Sanskrit word “Maitri.” The full concept of “Maitri” is a bit complicated to explain, but Wikipedia has a pretty good definition of it:

Though it refers to many seemingly disparate ideas, Maitri is in fact a very specific form of love – a caring for another independent of all self-interest – and thus is likened to one’s love for one’s child or parent. …The strength of this feeling is not limited to or by family, religion, or social class. Indeed, Maitri is a tool that permits one’s generosity and kindness to be applied to all beings and, as a consequence, one finds true happiness in another person’s happiness, no matter who the individual is.

When I became familiar with this concept, it became my deepest wish for myself that I could be a person who could practice “loving-kindness” everyday. I knew this was the key to filling the hole. But such a selfless kind of love is a hard thing to practice, so I wanted to carry with me a constant reminder of the type of person I am striving to be. And that is why I decided to have the Sanskrit word for ‘loving-kindness” (Maitri) tattooed onto my skin. Obviously, the tattoo is permanent, which is fine with me. Because I want loving-kindness to permanently be a guiding ideal as my journey of faith continues.



altView: christopher macdonald Posted by 11.20.2009 8:45 am

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“I have heard many complain that they did not want to be “so heavenly-minded that they were no earthly good.” But we are usually in no personal danger of this. In fact, I have yet to meet a human being who was. I have met people who were in danger of being so “religious” that they were no earthly good; but never too “heavenly-minded.”

When people speak of heaven they often wax eloquent as if heaven were an ethereal dreamland. But heaven is more real than you or I. While we are but a vapor upon this earth, we speak of the throne of God as if it were a wishful wisp of smoke from our great-grandfather’s pipe.

In the same way that we are insane to create God in our image (when in fact it is the reverse), so to project a heaven out of your own infantile crayon-on-paper theologies is cute but should go no further than under a magnet on the fridge. Heaven informs our lives and those places in our lives now that seem the most solid in Christ are the beginnings of becoming a citizen of Heaven where such creativity, vision, knowledge and reflected glory will be more powerful than we can imagine. What does C.S. Lewis say? Beings so luminous that if we were to see them today we would be “strongly tempted to worship” them.

Not only is heaven our future, it is to be our present. We are to “seek the things above”- present tense -“where Christ is”- now – “at the right hand of God”. The closest I can come to interpreting the meaning of this verse is that we are to seek the reality of the Kingdom of God in our life.

Jesus Christ is the most heavenly minded, yet the most earthly good. Can you name one man who has ever been more earthly good than Jesus of Nazareth? Now can you name one man who has ever been more heavenly minded than Jesus of Nazareth? The truth is, the heavens themselves reflect the eternal glory of Christ, yet no man has ever been more earthly good than Christ, the “Second Adam,” God in the flesh.

The Jesus follower who is heavenly minded, will always be the most active, Why? Because Jesus is the most active agent in Creation in all ways at all times, even holding all of it together relationally at this very moment in a way beyond comprehension. To be a follower of this Living One to to actively become a part of that as you are “in Him” and He is in you.

To be “heavenly-minded” is to have the “mind of Christ”; and it is unfortunate that many of us simply want the old mind back. The eternal perspective is to be taught by God to see a bit from His vantage point. To be sure, in a “mirror dimly” is all we can take in. But someday “face to face” and then we shall be like Him.

(This is an excerpt from SPOKE: Journal of Christ.)



RSVP: worship gathering childcare Posted by 11.19.2009 8:00 am

connect an eikon worship gathering

we’re drawing very near to our first ever worship gathering this coming sunday night (the 22nd), when we’ll gather at juanita’s at 6 pm. as a faith community, it will be our first time to come together an engage in a time of worship. if you want more details, you can find them here, but i wanted to give some more details on something we’re very excited about.

up to this point, we’ve not been able to—due to, primarily, space limitations—offer childcare. for our first worship gathering, though, we’re excited to offer free childcare. since our worship gathering will be at juanita’s, the space won’t lend itself to onsite childcare. fortunately, though, our (ryan & christen’s) house is about a 1/2 mile from juanita’s, so we’ll be hosting the childcare in our home (google maps link).

since we have our own children and understand parents’ concerns, we are committed to having quality, competent care in a clean, child-friendly space. so, two workers will be taking care of the children. if you have any questions about our home or the type of care your children will receive, please feel free to contact me at 501.551.8118 or christen at 501.551.8117.

we ask that you drop your children off at our home between 5:30 and 5:50 pm (at the latest) and pick them up within 30 minutes of the gathering ending. we ask that anything you bring—diaper bags, bottles, food containers, pacifiers, etc—be clearly marked with your child’s name.

finally, we ask that you fill out the following form to RSVP your children. this form includes contact information for the parents as well as your children’s names, ages and special instructions. please fill it out in its entirety. this form is required for attendance.

see you sunday night!



altView: holly ballard Posted by 11.16.2009 8:03 am

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I don’t know what I believe. That’s kind of a relief, actually, as it’s taken me about seven years to say. Since my fundamentalist upbringing never left a lot of room for doubt, I spent a lot of time bottling up the truth, which was that I no longer knew what capital-T Truth was. Admitting this to myself was difficult enough, but I also found myself faced with a somehow more daunting dilemma: how do I continue to function honestly in the Christian community without people I love rejecting me or—worse—worrying about me? Each time I would come close to exposing the true nature of my (un)belief, I could think only of a time when I had been kept up at night in anguish over a lost soul. What did I do now that that lost soul was me?

My initial solution was not to abandon my challenging but ultimately comfortable beliefs. Instead, I began reading trendy Christian books that pecked at the problem of faith but never really gave me room to doubt. I also tried a couple of newer, less-traditional churches that offered a far cry from the “as together we stand and sing” services of my youth. I was disappointed to find beneath the exciting packaging only the same suffocating space. Throughout this process, I continued trying to keep everyone convinced I wasn’t undergoing a crisis of faith; you may be unsurprised to hear I eventually gave up on the whole thing altogether.

But the whole thing, it turns out, didn’t give up on me. When I didn’t know what else to do, I turned away from institutions and to the only thing that ever consistently made sense to me. That was, and remains, love. The majority of what I’d call worship in the last few years has been simply connecting with other people, namely Damien Echols, Jessie Misskelley and Jason Baldwin, three men who I’m convinced were wrongfully convicted of murder and who have spent the last 16 years of their lives in prison. The steps that brought me to this case and the relationships I have forged since are nothing if not spiritual.

It seems to me that every act of love, no matter how small, is an act of worship. My current beliefs about spirituality can, I suppose, best be summed up by a fairly blasphemous thought that occurred to me one morning as I was driving home from a night drinking with friends: it was the most worshipful few hours I’d had in a very long time.

It happened that Sunday morning as it often happens to me now. When all is quiet, the sorrows and joys of the day sometimes transform into tiny prayers I didn’t realize I intended to say until they’ve already materialized. I’m still not sure who I’m talking to, but the interconnectedness of all things constantly draws me back to something bigger. And—get this—I actually believe I’ve found a place where I can openly and honestly figure out the rest.



altView: todd erickson Posted by 11.12.2009 9:30 am

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Growing up, I was always told that there were no dreams other than saving souls.

That the only thing that was eternal, that was meaningful, was the souls of other people, and everything else was meaningless and would pass away.

I was told, in fact, that whatever I loved most, whatever my fiercest, dearest dream was, God would ask me to give it up for Him so that I could save souls.

This seemed, overall, to point at a terribly empty and pointless existence where we were all biding the time increasing the size of our club while we waited to be evacuated to another place. It seemed, especially reading the words of Christ, like there should have been much more.

Over time, from doing my own studying, from reading other Christian scholars and authors, I’ve begun to see that yes, there is a great deal more to life than just how many people in a particular community have checked a box that says “yes, I’m saved, and I’d like to experience public immersion”. I’ve come to understand that we are designed with dreams and talents and abilities by God specifically to use them for His Glory…and that God is Glorified when a child learns to read, or when people eat, and eat well, or when friends share comfort and a belly laugh.

For far too many people, Christianity has brought not life (and life more abundant), but law and restrictions and the death of hope and dreams, and that’s simply wrong, it’s unhuman. It’s using the Gospel of Christ to bring more of Hell to earth, and that’s simply not acceptable.

We should be in the process of dreaming dreams, better dreams, and then making them come to life. Of being the Hope that the world truly needs, on a daily basis. And loving the beauty of that existence.



altView: libby delay Posted by 11.09.2009 10:06 am

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**EDITORIAL NOTE: this is the first of 15 blog posts over the next month and a half that are part of a new series called altView. for an intro to the series, you can read in detail here, but in essence, these are stories of faith from the people of our community. no filters. no agendas. no prompts. just people telling their stories. hope you enjoy!**

There are three states of love. In love, out of love, and on the precipice between the two. We all have a preference, and, surprisingly, in love is not always the hands-down winner. It is too messy, too all-consuming, too much. Then again, out of love can be a little lonely, and that teetering precipice, when you’re no longer in love, but not quite out of it, exhaustingly dramatic. Each is risky. —A Strange Nervous Laughter, Bridget McNulty

I have had tons of love/relationship drama in my life. Yes, definitely with guys, but mostly with God. I’ve always been a Christian, but mostly in the same way I’ve always been white—I was born that way.

Through most of my teen angst—while I identified myself as a Christian—I was out of love with God. I was jaded, turned-off by all the hypocrisy and wickedness of the “Christians” around me, and pissed off that, while I intellectually knew God was real and what I believed was true, I wished it wasn’t. I wanted to believe something else.

God was patient with me though, because in October of my senior year, God brought me to that precipice of love, nudging me slowly to the edge. I wish I had jumped then, but I didn’t. I camped out on the precipice for four months—the four most painful months of my life. I broke up with a guy that I didn’t love, but had dated for two and a half years. I fell in love with a guy who didn’t seem to love me back. I ran away from home, almost dropped out of school and was completely betrayed and heartbroken by two of my best friends.

By March, I finally jumped suicidally into love with God, because I had nowhere else to go. Life was too painful. I didn’t care whether I was happy or whether life was fun. I just wanted for any pain that I felt to mean something.

Being in love with God is messy. It’s all-consuming. It feels, sometimes, like too much to handle. It doesn’t fix everything in your life. In fact, March was a horrible month in a lot of ways, filled with more pain than I thought I could deal with. But I also started dating my now-husband in March and I forgave my family and those two friends that summer.

I’ve seen firsthand what a waste it is to spend resources (time, money, energy) on things that don’t honor God. I regret the years I lost, but I’m working now to create a Warm Space for homeless people in Little Rock. I’m working on staying in love with God through loving his people, his earth and those he has put in my life whether they love me or not.

If you’re jaded or angry at God, realize that the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference, and get right with him.

If you’re sitting on the precipice, JUMP! LOVE GOD WITHOUT ABANDON!



announcing a new blog series: altView Posted by 11.06.2009 12:09 pm

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over the last several months, we’ve been able to slowly, but surely share with you the details of our ever-growing community called eikon. through this blog—as well as the various pages here on the website—you’ve primarily heard one voice: mine. with the exception of a couple blog posts and some very brief leader questionnaires, you’ve been exposed to a single viewpoint of an ever-diversifying community. one of our values is to create a space where multiple stories are told, diverse worldviews are expressed and individual points-of-view become part of an ideological melting pot.

it’s with these thoughts that i’m very excited to announce a new blog series called altView. over the next two months, you’ll hear from about 16 or 17 voices in our community. in other words, you’ll be hearing alternative viewpoints.

there will be no filters and no agendas. these aren’t sales pitches for eikon. they aren’t a bunch of “come to jesus” posts, attempting to convert the masses. i’ve simply invited a cross section of our community—representing various points-of-view and levels of faith commitments—to share what’s significant to them. maybe it’s an issue or cause about which they’re passionate. maybe it’s a significant place in their life where faith came to the forefront. maybe it’s the point they decided, “i’m through with church.” maybe it’s the point they decided, “i need the church.” it’s really wide open.

so, it should be a fun journey. there’s so much more to eikon than ryan byrd and you all, unfortunately, have seen little more than that for quite some time now.

we’ll kick things off this coming monday, november 9 and continue on subsequent thursdays and mondays (that is if I can keep my brain and deadline whip in check…).

see you next monday!