Until the Lord Changes It

Kiln of the Soul is not gone; it’s quietly waiting the day the Father appoints to manifest it to the rest of the world. We are all arrows in the quiver. For most of us in the Radix Fidem community, our next mission is not yet fully revealed in action.

I have a burden to share, a vision of what should be. It’s not really in my hands to make it be, but it’s my job to be available when the time comes. We say the Word is God’s revelation of what’s real; it’s how things work in the world He made. More to the point, it’s how we can come back to what He intended for us. It’s a journey that takes us farther and farther out of this world on the way to Eternity.

This revelation must first burn in our hearts before it can come to life in our hands. I’ve spent some years exploring what that revelation demands of me. I’ve done my best to declare what I’ve found, and it seems some folks have found clues for their own sense of calling in what I’ve shared. Not only do you embrace the lessons of Radix Fidem, but you sensed a call to also participate the Kiln of the Soul — making me the elder of a faith community.

Kiln of the Soul is not for everyone. Some of you should feel led to find or build your own religious practice. In this, we could say Radix Fidem is the “denomination” with individual churches, and my church is called Kiln of the Soul. If that’s how we see it, then let me point out the our denomination off-loads a lot of particulars to the individual congregations, without a centralized structure of any kind. The only shared identity is summarized in the list of particulars that explain Radix Fidem.

It’s quite possible all of this could die with me; I’m not trying to change the future by promoting my personal faith boundaries. What I do hope outlives me is the centrality of conviction as the final rule of all religion. That’s the same as saying “heart-led” in the sense of putting human capabilities subservient to conviction, because God writes convictions in your heart. That’s the symbolism of the Tent of Meeting; it’s your heart where you commune with the Spirit of God. If that one thing spreads and carries on, I can dance with joy in Heaven.

So, I have this vision that, somewhere in my own future, my testimony will be raised in some social setting I don’t yet see. I didn’t set out to become a recluse; it just happened as a consequence of things I felt God demanded of me. Like John the Baptist, at some point I’ll come out of the wilderness and begin preaching where people can hear me. It will be some setting in meat space, not online.

In my head, at least, whatever fellowship comes with that I’ll call “Kiln of the Soul.” It will be my church, regardless of whatever else it may appear to be. Or perhaps I should say, that name will represent how I order my own interaction with such a group. Kiln of the Soul will be the name for how I draw boundaries in my service as shepherd elder. It’s not that my virtual parish will be excluded by any means, or that I would love you any less, but that the bulk of what I do in the flesh will be focused on that real-world group. A virtual parish becomes an extension of that work.

Nor should you imagine that this vision must somehow become reality. That’s missing the point. The vision is what ought to be; it’s the goal regardless of how things turn out. It’s the foundation of my plans. Everything else is just the means to that end, until the Lord changes that vision.