When I was younger, I lived in Mexico for a while. The first Christmas away from home was difficult. I spent the week at friend’s home, north of Acapulco. Somehow heat and palm trees didn’t seem quite the same as being home for the holidays with snow and my family. Initially I felt sad. It didn’t feel right. I associated Christmas with the external surroundings of family, special foods, gifts, carols, adorned Christmas trees and snow. Few of those things were visible in the little town north of Acapulco.
Part of the Christmas celebration in Mexico includes a nine-day festival call Las Posadas. Posada means “the inn.” It is a visual reenactment of the story of Christmas.
“About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David's town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant.” While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. She gave birth to a son, her firstborn. She wrapped him in a blanket and laid him in a manger, because there was no room in the hostel.”
Each night during the posadas, pilgrims representing Mary and Joseph pass from house to house requesting room. Other members of the company light the way, holding long, slender candles. They sing traditional songs as they arrive at each home. They are turned away until they arrive at the house that will hold the posada for the evening. The residents act as innkeepers, inviting all to come in to the celebration. This procession takes place every night through Christmas Eve. On this night the carols that request lodging change into a celebration as Mary and Joseph are given a place to stay. Pinatas explode with candy as las Posadas celebrate family, friends, and food, all centered in the story of Christmas.
It seems that there is a valuable concept that can be drawn throughout this holiday celebration. Christmas honors the birth of the Christ child and the restoration of humankind to one another and to the divine. He spent time with people who were lonely, wounded, and outcasts. In the birth narrative, we see pilgrims in need of a place that would welcome them. The story shows us both the amount of welcome that at times was not available – and then continues to show us what happened when welcome WAS available. On the part of the innkeepers, we see some able to welcome them, and some who were not able to do so.
Life brings us moments where we can be in need of welcome and embrace. Other times we are the ones who can offer the welcome embrace or hospitality to another. Here is a bit of a local story that shows us the power of embrace.
“By look at him and Mary Johns, his arm around her, you’d think they were mother and son. But actually, he’s the man who murdered her son. It happened in 1993. Israel shot Byrd multiple times, his body left outside North Memorial Hospital. Israel said, “When I took his life I just saw him. I didn’t see his mother.” Johnson lived with the pain and hatred for over a decade as Israel sat in prison in Stillwater…after 17.5 years in prison for Israel and just months after his release, they’re more than friends. Johnson said, “He’s like my son.”
While it seems incomprehensible, they’re now working together to promote healing between families of victims and perpetrators… This new bond, fostered by her forgiveness, has taught Israel to let go of some of his anger as well as pursue a life much more positive. Johnson and Israel hope to bring other families of violence together for forgiveness.” KARE-11
This Christmas season, on which side do you land? Are you one who can offer welcome, grace to another this week? Is there a family member or friend to whom you can offer hospitality this weekend? A co-worker to who you can offer unconditional care?
Or, this Christmas, are you at a place where you are on the receiving end of this sort of grace? Consider how you might lean into the care and attention of another person so that you may experience an element of healing.
I remember the welcome embrace of my first Posada. Laughter, hot cocoa, dancing, candy flying through the air from the ruptured pinata and conversation. A friend gave me a bracelet to commemorate the event. I felt as if, even though I was not at home, not among family, I WAS welcomed and brought in, as if I belonged.
We learn from the Posadas that by welcoming others, we are welcoming God into our midst. When we offer unconditional acceptance to another, and to our own self, we are offering grace. We experience the grace of acceptance that the Christ child brought to that stable. The appearance of this grace, as evidenced through the child brought shepherds from the hills and kings from the east. It draws us. It compels us. It embraces us. It welcomes us to a place of healing and shelter - posada.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
a clear sky and a parka
a One of my favorite things about living in the country is the amount of stars one can see on a clear night. I love to stand in the middle of my dirt driveway on a warm summer night, and stare. When late fall arrives I look forward to the meteor showers. The next one is Monday night, Tuesday morning – Dec. 13-14. I am hoping for good viewing weather! That…along with a good parka….
When we first moved out to the country from the suburbs, we were amazed at the darkness. Having lived for years with the artificial lights of the cities shining in through our windows, we had forgotten what it was like to have no light. The nights without a moon are the darkest. At first you can see nothing…literally. Then, as your eyes adjust you can make out shadows. This year I put little flashing lights on our dogs so that we could find them on the nights that are so dark.
Darkness is intense. It feels as if you can not see your hand in front of your face. Some of us have gone, or are going through our own darkness. St. John of the Cross calls times such as these “the dark night of the soul.” It feels uncertain, frightening…as if we desperately want someone to turn on the light for us. Except, sometimes they don’t turn the light on. At least not as quickly as we would like them turned on. We may have a wandering child, a poor diagnosis, a divided relationship. Many things can feel like dark places. Some place where we feel alone, even if we are in a room with many people.
You know, there are a few reasons why I like the stars on those bright lights. I use the stars to know where I am. I can be in another location and know by looking at the stars which way I am pointing. I know that if I line myself up with the North Star, I am facing the same direction as my house. I know that if I see Orion at a certain time of the year that I can face the way of our creek. This, in some manner brings me comfort. The stars help me navigate.
When things are light and clear, it is easier to navigate our way. However when it is dark, how can we see ourselves to the next place we need to go? In the Christian scriptures, we can read of a story of a starlit journey of the Magi.
“After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi[a] from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:
“‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.”
Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.” After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.”
What is your divine North Star? What is it that you can find, even in the dark that will help you navigate through this or your next dark time? Perhaps it is in a faith ritual such as prayer, reading or a relationship. Maybe it is music or friend with whom to share what is on your heart. How is it that your soul is nurtured and sustained? I encourage you to consider your North Star…and follow it to it’s destination. And in the meanwhile, check out the shooting stars tonight.
When we first moved out to the country from the suburbs, we were amazed at the darkness. Having lived for years with the artificial lights of the cities shining in through our windows, we had forgotten what it was like to have no light. The nights without a moon are the darkest. At first you can see nothing…literally. Then, as your eyes adjust you can make out shadows. This year I put little flashing lights on our dogs so that we could find them on the nights that are so dark.
Darkness is intense. It feels as if you can not see your hand in front of your face. Some of us have gone, or are going through our own darkness. St. John of the Cross calls times such as these “the dark night of the soul.” It feels uncertain, frightening…as if we desperately want someone to turn on the light for us. Except, sometimes they don’t turn the light on. At least not as quickly as we would like them turned on. We may have a wandering child, a poor diagnosis, a divided relationship. Many things can feel like dark places. Some place where we feel alone, even if we are in a room with many people.
You know, there are a few reasons why I like the stars on those bright lights. I use the stars to know where I am. I can be in another location and know by looking at the stars which way I am pointing. I know that if I line myself up with the North Star, I am facing the same direction as my house. I know that if I see Orion at a certain time of the year that I can face the way of our creek. This, in some manner brings me comfort. The stars help me navigate.
When things are light and clear, it is easier to navigate our way. However when it is dark, how can we see ourselves to the next place we need to go? In the Christian scriptures, we can read of a story of a starlit journey of the Magi.
“After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi[a] from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:
“‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.”
Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.” After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.”
What is your divine North Star? What is it that you can find, even in the dark that will help you navigate through this or your next dark time? Perhaps it is in a faith ritual such as prayer, reading or a relationship. Maybe it is music or friend with whom to share what is on your heart. How is it that your soul is nurtured and sustained? I encourage you to consider your North Star…and follow it to it’s destination. And in the meanwhile, check out the shooting stars tonight.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Fragrance of the Season
Fragrance of the season
For me, one of the most notable things about this time of year is the fragrance. It starts in October with the smell of crushed leaves in the air. Then comes, cinnamon, pumpkin pies, candles. It continues with evergreens, cranberries and turkey. For over two months, I find for me - the fragrance of comfort. Now there are other times of the year when the smells in the air are remarkable. When the entire yard is blooming in May and your senses are engaged with lilacs, and fruit trees – well, there is not much that seems to get better than that – at the time. For me, those are adult aromas – ones I have learned to appreciate as an adult. But the fragrance of November and December, well those are childhood aromas. There are deep memories attached to the fragrance. It is amazing how a certain scent can bring you back to another time of your life.
I invite you to close your eyes - Take a moment – consider a fragrance, an aroma, a smell that takes you back to a place – to another decade of your life. What feeling arises as you think about that aroma? What is the story that is attached to that smell? What is the memory? Let’s hold that story for a moment.
Breathe
From John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara: “Traditionally, the breath was understood as the pathway through which the soul entered the body. Breaths come in pairs except the first breath and the last breath. At the deepest level, breath is sister of spirit. One of the most ancient words for spirit is the Hebrew word Ruah, this is also the word for air or wind. Ruah also denotes pathos, passion and emotion – a state of the soul. The word suggests that God was like breath and wind because of the incredible passion and pathos of divinity. This ancient recognition links the wild creativity of the Spirit with the breath of the soul in the human person. Breath is also deeply appropriate as a metaphor because divinity, like breath, is invisible.”
So today, let’s wonder together for a moment. If God is like the breath and the wind – how, when we breath in…when we breath out….do we experience the holy? The sacred?
Let’s go back to the fragrance we considered a moment ago. Close your eyes, go back to that memory. Smell the fragrance, breath in, breath out. How in that memory is God present to you? How can you be present to God in that memory? In that story of your life? Breathing through the stories of our life, we can begin to see that God has been present. In times of great difficulty and times of great joy.
So, today – whether you are in times of great difficulty, or times of great joy, I invite you to stop, breath in God’s presence. Stop. Look around, stay aware of the presence of the divine in your story – as it is playing out today. And breath in God’s presence.
For me, one of the most notable things about this time of year is the fragrance. It starts in October with the smell of crushed leaves in the air. Then comes, cinnamon, pumpkin pies, candles. It continues with evergreens, cranberries and turkey. For over two months, I find for me - the fragrance of comfort. Now there are other times of the year when the smells in the air are remarkable. When the entire yard is blooming in May and your senses are engaged with lilacs, and fruit trees – well, there is not much that seems to get better than that – at the time. For me, those are adult aromas – ones I have learned to appreciate as an adult. But the fragrance of November and December, well those are childhood aromas. There are deep memories attached to the fragrance. It is amazing how a certain scent can bring you back to another time of your life.
I invite you to close your eyes - Take a moment – consider a fragrance, an aroma, a smell that takes you back to a place – to another decade of your life. What feeling arises as you think about that aroma? What is the story that is attached to that smell? What is the memory? Let’s hold that story for a moment.
Breathe
From John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara: “Traditionally, the breath was understood as the pathway through which the soul entered the body. Breaths come in pairs except the first breath and the last breath. At the deepest level, breath is sister of spirit. One of the most ancient words for spirit is the Hebrew word Ruah, this is also the word for air or wind. Ruah also denotes pathos, passion and emotion – a state of the soul. The word suggests that God was like breath and wind because of the incredible passion and pathos of divinity. This ancient recognition links the wild creativity of the Spirit with the breath of the soul in the human person. Breath is also deeply appropriate as a metaphor because divinity, like breath, is invisible.”
So today, let’s wonder together for a moment. If God is like the breath and the wind – how, when we breath in…when we breath out….do we experience the holy? The sacred?
Let’s go back to the fragrance we considered a moment ago. Close your eyes, go back to that memory. Smell the fragrance, breath in, breath out. How in that memory is God present to you? How can you be present to God in that memory? In that story of your life? Breathing through the stories of our life, we can begin to see that God has been present. In times of great difficulty and times of great joy.
So, today – whether you are in times of great difficulty, or times of great joy, I invite you to stop, breath in God’s presence. Stop. Look around, stay aware of the presence of the divine in your story – as it is playing out today. And breath in God’s presence.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Building Bridges through Spiritual Care
Building Bridges through Spiritual Care
by Andrea Wichhart-Tatley and Janet Stark
Some of the most difficult words we can ever express are: I’m hurt, I’m sorry, please forgive me, I love you. If these words are difficult to say at home, imagine what it’s like to say them in a hospital when confronting a medical emergency. When difficult medical decisions must be made, the language of the heart is an important part of the healing journey. We see this often as Methodist Hospital chaplains.
Difficult choices, family dynamics
Doing rounds one evening, one of our chaplains noticed a woman crying as she sat next to a sleeping patient. This woman was the oldest of four sisters who became estranged from each other following the deaths of their parents. Now they were going to be reunited in a time of crisis to try to comfort their terminally ill sister. None of them had spoken with her for 10 years.
As the crying woman sat next to her dying sister, she was overwhelmed with many feelings including personal regret and unspoken love. Wanting to communicate her deepest self to her sister, and to the other sisters who would arrive shortly, she asked if a chaplain could assist her in this uncomfortable reunion.
Often in the hospital people are forced to revisit relationships that have been painful. Sometimes they need healing as well as the patient. A chaplain’s expertise is the language of the heart. We seek to be artful at building bridges where there have been walls, creating space and time for the expression of one’s deepest thoughts and providing an opportunity for love to be given and received.
Adjusting, building bridges
Spiritual Care is part of the health care team at Park Nicollet Methodist Hospital. As part of the care team, chaplains from the Spiritual Care department work with patients and families to adapt to the new elements in life brought about by illness. As patients adjust to a hospital stay and to treatments or surgery, there are opportunities for patients, family and friends to build bridges that may lead to a reduction in stress, allowing the body to heal. Or there may be reconciliation with family and friends that helps them provide care and support for each other. These are significant steps in the process of healing.
Spiritual care chaplains are also available for staff that care for patients. Sometimes a difficult diagnosis, stressful family dynamics or a medical emergency can impact staff as well as families. Spiritual care providers assist in building bridges to stress reduction and adaptation for the well-being of care providers as well as patients.
New lives emerge from grief
Spiritual care helps identify barriers and build bridges so people can make changes to improve their lives, even when death is near. As patients and families begin to walk this new bridge, re-centering may occur that includes reconciliation of relationships and moving into the future with trust and hope. In this centered place we can experience ourselves, others and our faith more fully.
Fortunately, that is what happened to the four sisters. Reunited to care for their youngest sister, they shared their love with her in her last month of life. In that time, they also rekindled their relationships with each other. The surviving sisters left the hospital grieving their loss, but also grateful that they discovered new ways of being a family.
by Andrea Wichhart-Tatley and Janet Stark
Some of the most difficult words we can ever express are: I’m hurt, I’m sorry, please forgive me, I love you. If these words are difficult to say at home, imagine what it’s like to say them in a hospital when confronting a medical emergency. When difficult medical decisions must be made, the language of the heart is an important part of the healing journey. We see this often as Methodist Hospital chaplains.
Difficult choices, family dynamics
Doing rounds one evening, one of our chaplains noticed a woman crying as she sat next to a sleeping patient. This woman was the oldest of four sisters who became estranged from each other following the deaths of their parents. Now they were going to be reunited in a time of crisis to try to comfort their terminally ill sister. None of them had spoken with her for 10 years.
As the crying woman sat next to her dying sister, she was overwhelmed with many feelings including personal regret and unspoken love. Wanting to communicate her deepest self to her sister, and to the other sisters who would arrive shortly, she asked if a chaplain could assist her in this uncomfortable reunion.
Often in the hospital people are forced to revisit relationships that have been painful. Sometimes they need healing as well as the patient. A chaplain’s expertise is the language of the heart. We seek to be artful at building bridges where there have been walls, creating space and time for the expression of one’s deepest thoughts and providing an opportunity for love to be given and received.
Adjusting, building bridges
Spiritual Care is part of the health care team at Park Nicollet Methodist Hospital. As part of the care team, chaplains from the Spiritual Care department work with patients and families to adapt to the new elements in life brought about by illness. As patients adjust to a hospital stay and to treatments or surgery, there are opportunities for patients, family and friends to build bridges that may lead to a reduction in stress, allowing the body to heal. Or there may be reconciliation with family and friends that helps them provide care and support for each other. These are significant steps in the process of healing.
Spiritual care chaplains are also available for staff that care for patients. Sometimes a difficult diagnosis, stressful family dynamics or a medical emergency can impact staff as well as families. Spiritual care providers assist in building bridges to stress reduction and adaptation for the well-being of care providers as well as patients.
New lives emerge from grief
Spiritual care helps identify barriers and build bridges so people can make changes to improve their lives, even when death is near. As patients and families begin to walk this new bridge, re-centering may occur that includes reconciliation of relationships and moving into the future with trust and hope. In this centered place we can experience ourselves, others and our faith more fully.
Fortunately, that is what happened to the four sisters. Reunited to care for their youngest sister, they shared their love with her in her last month of life. In that time, they also rekindled their relationships with each other. The surviving sisters left the hospital grieving their loss, but also grateful that they discovered new ways of being a family.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I was talking to a dear friend the other day. He is in a very difficult spot in life. Being a man of faith, he has often found great solace and comfort in prayer. Prayer is his connection to the presence of the creator. But on this day he was lamenting. When he prayed on some days, he experienced his prayers were bouncing back to him - almost as if the heavens were tin. Other days if felt like his prayers were echoing through an empty galaxy without anywhere to land. He was frustrated and confused. He was sure he was "doing it wrong." Instead of prayer being a source of comfort, it was causing him anxiety. There have been times where I have certainly experienced something similar. My prayers no longer offer comfort or relief. So, we began to wonder together. Out of our conversations, I would like to offer a repainting of this picture.
What if this was an invitation to see God in a different light? Instead of anxiety, we were being offered a new way to connect with God. To expand our idea of whom we believe God to be. Perhaps we could reflect on what brings us peace, or how do we feel love? If God is shalom and love, then it would seem that the times we are experiencing peace and love might be a time where we are receiving a divine touch. Where do you experience peace? Where do you feel love? I invite you to reflect on these two questions. Consider God's presence in them.
Maybe you experience peace in your garden, in the kitchen baking, or on the golf course. Perhaps it is in playing with the grandkids, coffee with a friends, the silence of an early morning or the hum of a busy day that you feel love. What if these actions were your prayer? What if these daily gifts were God's touch on your life? Could the action of walking the dog be a prayer? How might baking cookies for your family or mowing the lawn serve as a prayer? How would you view God differently? Would this expand your idea of God's voice in your life?
I invite you to reflect on these questions. Where do you experience peace? Where do you feel love? Wonder what new picture of God might be offered to you today.
What if this was an invitation to see God in a different light? Instead of anxiety, we were being offered a new way to connect with God. To expand our idea of whom we believe God to be. Perhaps we could reflect on what brings us peace, or how do we feel love? If God is shalom and love, then it would seem that the times we are experiencing peace and love might be a time where we are receiving a divine touch. Where do you experience peace? Where do you feel love? I invite you to reflect on these two questions. Consider God's presence in them.
Maybe you experience peace in your garden, in the kitchen baking, or on the golf course. Perhaps it is in playing with the grandkids, coffee with a friends, the silence of an early morning or the hum of a busy day that you feel love. What if these actions were your prayer? What if these daily gifts were God's touch on your life? Could the action of walking the dog be a prayer? How might baking cookies for your family or mowing the lawn serve as a prayer? How would you view God differently? Would this expand your idea of God's voice in your life?
I invite you to reflect on these questions. Where do you experience peace? Where do you feel love? Wonder what new picture of God might be offered to you today.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
One of the “stresses” in my life is when things don’t go my way. Yes, it is true: my preferred way of life is this: I like life to go along as I want it to go. That said, neither my mind nor my body “stress out” every time things go other than expected. In fact I have learned to often go with the flow. However, there are a few areas that I still seem to hold on to – tightly - as if holding on (til my knuckles turn white) might “will” them to go my way. Instead it seems as if the simple act of hanging on to them so tightly is what actually brings the stress.
Stress is something we all feel at times. There is good stress – the kind that tells you not to stick your hand in a beehive or to not drive your car (at least too long) on “empty.” The body sends alerts to keep us safe. Information comes from our minds to the rest of the body. Our body follows the commands of the mind just the way it was created to do. The body does not know the difference between a true emergency (one where there is an actual, physical emergency at hand) and one that is a “perceived” emergency. Our body simply reacts to our mind’s cues. Our mind tells our body to be afraid, and it obeys by tensing up, breaking out in a sweat, or running away. Or our mind tells our body to get excited about warm chocolate chip cookies as our mouth begins to water or getting on a roller coaster at the amusement park. (And for some, the latter would be a case of fear rather than excitement!) Then there is the “bad” stress, the kind that can send our minds and our bodies down a large metaphoric vortex (that seems to have a strange “sucking” sound …sort of like a vacuum…) and lands us in a place that is really, REALLY uncomfortable. Sometimes it is hard to get out of that place, because frankly, we aren’t sure what sent us there~ Regardless of what put us there, we can start to see how important it is to pay attention to what we are thinking.
Our mind’s cues come from our life experience: things we have learned from our family, culture, education, religion, or the streets. It includes the people we have known, situations that have happened to us, our friends, family, or what we heard or watched through media. It is everything we have experienced, whether we “remember” it or not: 24-7, 365 days a year for life.
We are aware of many things. For example we might like Thai cuisine over pizza, and if we think about it, we might see how this could impact the restaurant we frequent. We may realize that we tend to be on the liberal or conservative side of things, and that tendency informs us how we are apt to vote. Then there are the things we do not realize we know. Experiences that we either do not remember for whatever reason, or we do not consider terribly important to our daily life. If we are parents, perhaps we do not realize our way of parenting is directly impacted by how we were parented. Why might we be fond of going to the State Fair? Why get so angry when someone cuts us off in traffic? Why does the smell of a bonfire ignite certain emotions? We are not always aware of how these responses are informed by our “life experiences.” But we can be assured, that these thoughts DO impact our life.
Today, I challenge you to take note of a thought or a response you experience. Get in a place where you are able to be quiet and begin to wonder why it is that you responded as you did. Begin to practice attending to thoughts you experience or responses you note. See where it leads. You might find it eye-opening.
Stress is something we all feel at times. There is good stress – the kind that tells you not to stick your hand in a beehive or to not drive your car (at least too long) on “empty.” The body sends alerts to keep us safe. Information comes from our minds to the rest of the body. Our body follows the commands of the mind just the way it was created to do. The body does not know the difference between a true emergency (one where there is an actual, physical emergency at hand) and one that is a “perceived” emergency. Our body simply reacts to our mind’s cues. Our mind tells our body to be afraid, and it obeys by tensing up, breaking out in a sweat, or running away. Or our mind tells our body to get excited about warm chocolate chip cookies as our mouth begins to water or getting on a roller coaster at the amusement park. (And for some, the latter would be a case of fear rather than excitement!) Then there is the “bad” stress, the kind that can send our minds and our bodies down a large metaphoric vortex (that seems to have a strange “sucking” sound …sort of like a vacuum…) and lands us in a place that is really, REALLY uncomfortable. Sometimes it is hard to get out of that place, because frankly, we aren’t sure what sent us there~ Regardless of what put us there, we can start to see how important it is to pay attention to what we are thinking.
Our mind’s cues come from our life experience: things we have learned from our family, culture, education, religion, or the streets. It includes the people we have known, situations that have happened to us, our friends, family, or what we heard or watched through media. It is everything we have experienced, whether we “remember” it or not: 24-7, 365 days a year for life.
We are aware of many things. For example we might like Thai cuisine over pizza, and if we think about it, we might see how this could impact the restaurant we frequent. We may realize that we tend to be on the liberal or conservative side of things, and that tendency informs us how we are apt to vote. Then there are the things we do not realize we know. Experiences that we either do not remember for whatever reason, or we do not consider terribly important to our daily life. If we are parents, perhaps we do not realize our way of parenting is directly impacted by how we were parented. Why might we be fond of going to the State Fair? Why get so angry when someone cuts us off in traffic? Why does the smell of a bonfire ignite certain emotions? We are not always aware of how these responses are informed by our “life experiences.” But we can be assured, that these thoughts DO impact our life.
Today, I challenge you to take note of a thought or a response you experience. Get in a place where you are able to be quiet and begin to wonder why it is that you responded as you did. Begin to practice attending to thoughts you experience or responses you note. See where it leads. You might find it eye-opening.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Vive l'difference
My cat caught a bird this morning. No matter how I bang on the window to distract him, send the dogs outside to blow his concentration, he still goes back to the feeder and stalks the birds. It matters not how high I place the feeders because his vertical jump seems to match the distance necessary to take out an unsuspecting chickadee. On one hand, I just hate that he does this. One of my favorite things about our property is watching the birds. And, I don’t like creation being injured or killed. On the other hand, this is how the cat was created. He may never change, not matter how hard I try to get him to stop taking out the birds. (Plus, he doesn’t seem to understand reason…) How does one hold the tension in that?
Sometimes it seems there simply isn’t a “right side” to take. In this case, there is definitely a side I want to take ~ one that I am more prone to take. Stop killing the birds! However, when I think of it, I can’t really expect him not to do so – it is part of the make-up of a cat. If I considered both sides, there is simply not a “right” or “wrong.” Rather, there is a preference involved. I prefer he not kill the birds. He prefers to kill them. If I look at each side of the situation, each has merit. Each has value to the holder.
I wonder how many times we are faced with situations in life could be considered “both/and” instead of “either/or.” How many times do both sides carry valid points? Maybe it is about a preference, one that differs from another. Sometimes it is about opinions or beliefs. What it things aren’t as black and white as we experience them? What it both sides of some issues hold merit? How would it change the way that we live if we considered the merit of each side of a situation instead of only looking at our own preference?
As far as me and my cat ~ there is a bit of a middle ground to our relationship. I continue to try hard to get him to stop killing the birds. If he gets obsessed with stalking I pull out the “cat bib” and put it around his neck which slows the stalking process. I send the dogs out in an attempt to distract him. His part seems to be to pull the cat bib off, watch for dogs and continue to stalk the birds. I feed him, and he sits on my lap. In this, we seem to get past our differences, and have a relationship. Neither of us is willing to bend on our “preference” however, it certainly does lowers anxiety. We kind of have a mutual understanding. The mutual understanding is this ~ I try to understand how nature works and try not to get bent out of shape about the parts of it I do not appreciate. He stalks the birds. Who knew that you could live in peace with someone so different from your self?
Sometimes it seems there simply isn’t a “right side” to take. In this case, there is definitely a side I want to take ~ one that I am more prone to take. Stop killing the birds! However, when I think of it, I can’t really expect him not to do so – it is part of the make-up of a cat. If I considered both sides, there is simply not a “right” or “wrong.” Rather, there is a preference involved. I prefer he not kill the birds. He prefers to kill them. If I look at each side of the situation, each has merit. Each has value to the holder.
I wonder how many times we are faced with situations in life could be considered “both/and” instead of “either/or.” How many times do both sides carry valid points? Maybe it is about a preference, one that differs from another. Sometimes it is about opinions or beliefs. What it things aren’t as black and white as we experience them? What it both sides of some issues hold merit? How would it change the way that we live if we considered the merit of each side of a situation instead of only looking at our own preference?
As far as me and my cat ~ there is a bit of a middle ground to our relationship. I continue to try hard to get him to stop killing the birds. If he gets obsessed with stalking I pull out the “cat bib” and put it around his neck which slows the stalking process. I send the dogs out in an attempt to distract him. His part seems to be to pull the cat bib off, watch for dogs and continue to stalk the birds. I feed him, and he sits on my lap. In this, we seem to get past our differences, and have a relationship. Neither of us is willing to bend on our “preference” however, it certainly does lowers anxiety. We kind of have a mutual understanding. The mutual understanding is this ~ I try to understand how nature works and try not to get bent out of shape about the parts of it I do not appreciate. He stalks the birds. Who knew that you could live in peace with someone so different from your self?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The dianthus rock
This weekend, I found myself sitting near the dianthus rock in the front yard. Really, it is just a huge rock that frames the massive amounts of colorful dianthus nearby. I sat there because it was easier to reach the weeds by being with the weeds, rather than towering over them. Sitting with the weeds actually gave me a view of under-the-plant canopy. I do not see this perspective much, as I tend to look at the plants, rather than getting down with them. When I am at plant level, I see the weeds, but I also see the toads, the new plants coming up, and blooms I hadn’t noticed before. Sitting at plant level also offers me surprises like the kitty jumping out from his napping place to pounce on the weed I am pulling and scaring the dickens out of me.
Being on the dianthus rock places me in a certain spot in our yard. If I look to the left, over the hostas and blooming daylilies, past the birdfeeder, through the hedge and the dust kicked up by a passing car, I see an outline of a window. On the other side of that window is the place my friend took her final breathe on Christmas morning. That was about 6 months ago. I miss her. I miss our talks and our times of not talking, simply sitting sharing silence. There was the laughter and tears shared over everything from our kids, politics, marriage, family, and that damn ALS, which invited both tears and laughter, sometimes at the same time. I saw a different perspective on politics when I was with my friend. I saw the health care issues differently, I heard a different voice about lobbying, and the responses of some of our politicians to the challenges of folks with ALS. I also was present for the stories of what it is like for a mom, a sister, and a wife, to live with a terminal illness. I miss the ritual of walking over, and spending sacred time with her.
Reminded of the blessing, helps me focus on how grand our times could be. Even the tears could be grand. Sitting with my friend also meant sitting with the impact of ALS on her life, and the lives of her family and friends. In a sense, sitting close to my friend, listening, experiencing, caring for each other offered both of us a plant-level view into each other’s lives. It takes time to stop, sit down and watch what is going on a different level. The things we might consider to be weeds will always be there, regardless of the canopy under which we look. However, I wonder if the weeds are just simply part of the landscape and with out them, the beauty of blooms might not seem quite so grand. Perhaps there is something about living with the things that we think are weeds in our lives that make us who we are and who we are becoming. Maybe it is not about worrying about the amount of weeds I think are in my life. Perhaps that is the wrong focus. Rather I might ask of my own self, how might I embrace that which feels like a weed, and learn from it rather than being so obsessed with getting rid of it. That sounds like a completely different type of conversation.
Being on the dianthus rock places me in a certain spot in our yard. If I look to the left, over the hostas and blooming daylilies, past the birdfeeder, through the hedge and the dust kicked up by a passing car, I see an outline of a window. On the other side of that window is the place my friend took her final breathe on Christmas morning. That was about 6 months ago. I miss her. I miss our talks and our times of not talking, simply sitting sharing silence. There was the laughter and tears shared over everything from our kids, politics, marriage, family, and that damn ALS, which invited both tears and laughter, sometimes at the same time. I saw a different perspective on politics when I was with my friend. I saw the health care issues differently, I heard a different voice about lobbying, and the responses of some of our politicians to the challenges of folks with ALS. I also was present for the stories of what it is like for a mom, a sister, and a wife, to live with a terminal illness. I miss the ritual of walking over, and spending sacred time with her.
Reminded of the blessing, helps me focus on how grand our times could be. Even the tears could be grand. Sitting with my friend also meant sitting with the impact of ALS on her life, and the lives of her family and friends. In a sense, sitting close to my friend, listening, experiencing, caring for each other offered both of us a plant-level view into each other’s lives. It takes time to stop, sit down and watch what is going on a different level. The things we might consider to be weeds will always be there, regardless of the canopy under which we look. However, I wonder if the weeds are just simply part of the landscape and with out them, the beauty of blooms might not seem quite so grand. Perhaps there is something about living with the things that we think are weeds in our lives that make us who we are and who we are becoming. Maybe it is not about worrying about the amount of weeds I think are in my life. Perhaps that is the wrong focus. Rather I might ask of my own self, how might I embrace that which feels like a weed, and learn from it rather than being so obsessed with getting rid of it. That sounds like a completely different type of conversation.
Monday, June 28, 2010
The usefulness of lament
I have been thinking about lament for a few months now. There are several reasons for this. One, is my recent time spent as a chaplain intern allowed me to journey with people in dark, difficult times. I have experienced close friends dying, others have had difficult diagnoses. Personally I am left wondering about my own experience of lament, and how I may have been trying to avoid elements of it over the years. The tough thing about avoidance of what we may consider "negative" feelings is that they are still there, doing damage to our bodies, our relationships and our psyche, all while we are trying so hard to ignore it all. It seems as if the pressure of all that "stuffing" simply invites that which is being stuffed to leak out in a different place.
Lament can be used in a couple of different ways. First it can be used as protest. I am reminded of our local nurses and hospitals that are in many ways lamenting what is going on in the work place and how that matters to staff, hospital workers, administrators and especially patients. The picket signs downtown show, in a public fashion, lament.
Lament can also be experienced as a dark night of the soul. A feeling of being in a desert, without the hope that you may actually claw your way out of that dry place. What brings me to a place of curiosity is this: it seems as if we (yes, I am certainly including me here) seem to want to bypass the pain, as if by not confessing it, it is sure to go away. We behave as if we believe, "if I ignore it, it doesn't exist." While we may not think about it in this way, it seems as if this is how we can often behave. If we admit we have something to lament, we might have been told to "buck it up." If we hide it we are often told we are either "in control" or have "courage." I suspect it might be (sometimes) less about courage, and more about fear that someone else think we can't keep it all together.
Why is it that we think along these lines? I have had plenty of conversations with folks to know that it is just not "me" who does this, it is "we" ~ or at least there is a bunch of us. What is the usefulness of lament? Is it useful? I suggest it is. And, it is needed. Now the question seems to be, "so now what?"
Lament can be used in a couple of different ways. First it can be used as protest. I am reminded of our local nurses and hospitals that are in many ways lamenting what is going on in the work place and how that matters to staff, hospital workers, administrators and especially patients. The picket signs downtown show, in a public fashion, lament.
Lament can also be experienced as a dark night of the soul. A feeling of being in a desert, without the hope that you may actually claw your way out of that dry place. What brings me to a place of curiosity is this: it seems as if we (yes, I am certainly including me here) seem to want to bypass the pain, as if by not confessing it, it is sure to go away. We behave as if we believe, "if I ignore it, it doesn't exist." While we may not think about it in this way, it seems as if this is how we can often behave. If we admit we have something to lament, we might have been told to "buck it up." If we hide it we are often told we are either "in control" or have "courage." I suspect it might be (sometimes) less about courage, and more about fear that someone else think we can't keep it all together.
Why is it that we think along these lines? I have had plenty of conversations with folks to know that it is just not "me" who does this, it is "we" ~ or at least there is a bunch of us. What is the usefulness of lament? Is it useful? I suggest it is. And, it is needed. Now the question seems to be, "so now what?"
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Community: A Storied People
Community is a place, in which we are created to exist as the people of God. We are invited into relationship with God, and subsequently with each other, and our own selves. Within this place, we can receive redemption (wholeness) from God, and experience the incarnational Spirit of God living in and through each other. Included in this divine gift is the redeeming, grace-filled manner in which we learn to be with one another. “Community” is our participation with the Trinity and the “other” and they with us. Sometimes the “other” is the other we encounter within us.
The Triune God reveals a gracious model of community. The Trinity is diverse and loving, gracious and giving, egalitarian and honoring, always drawing us in to relationship by creating a space for us. The Triune God is relational within it’s own self, and with creation. Created in the likeness of God, and being restored to that likeness, we are invited to participate in relational redemption with God, each other and ourselves. In this manner it is a strong integrative model as it speaks to the journey to whole-ness (both individually and corporately) available in the kingdom of God.
One manner in which community is revealed is through the element of story. “Story” is life’s narrative: of an individual, of a people. It is the integration of an individual’s story within the larger narrative. This aspect of community is important not only in our relationship with God, but also with each other. It is in the story of the “other” that we are able to see aspects of God, we may not have experienced in our own journey. It is in the story of the other, that God calls us to lay down self, love another and in this way, learn of and model God’s love for us. It is in laying down our own interests for others that we begin to understand areas in our own lives that separate us from God and others.
Without narrative, we limit our understanding of the far reaches of emotion: fear, pain, joy, or peace. Story of the other illuminates the limits of our thinking and breaks boundaries of our experience. Narrative invites us to wonder how our story, and that of the other fits into the meta-narrative of God. It is the South African concept of ubuntu: “our story is wrapped up in the story of others.”
My own experience in understanding narrative has included support and challenges. Growing up, culture both in and outside of the walls of the church seemed less interested in individual stories. Within my faith community, the focal story was identified is the Christian scriptures. It was to these stories we were to look, at times with the reminder that "we (because of our sin) were the cause of the pain evident in some of those stories." Individual stories appeared important only as they matched up to the stories of scripture. There was not much discussion of a corporate story, unless one looked at how an individual’s action “made the church (and by implication, God) look bad.” On the reverse, narrative support came later in life, in the listening presence of friends. These friends attended to my story, the joys, and the wounds and continued to love me. This attuned support offered healing in its simple existence.
My faith tradition did not seem to understand the importance of story. My story was mine and mine alone. There was not an invitation to tell one’s story; it was simply something that you held, alone. The reality is that one carries the burden of the trials and perhaps even the joys, alone. A recent conversation come to mind. This person had held a secret for their entire life and had never had another person with which they could share this information. Keeping the secret seemed to impact the quality of life of the patient more than the actual “thing” that was actually hidden. There was great relief and (I believe) a turning point in the healing by speaking out the secret: this part of their story, out loud to another person. In the holding of the secret, in the missing that part of the narrative, it seemed as if grace was more difficult to access in these situations.
Community, as represent as story, unites us in celebrations of faith such as baptism and communion: coming together, representing the reconciliation and healing grace we can offer to our self and others. The story of the people of God proclaims grace in actions of love and forgiveness. As we experience grace through the telling of our own story and by the attuned listening to the other, we begin to realize the power of the grace needed in the world and how we can participate. We embody God’s Spirit in us; each one images God to each other and to the world. This corporate image is attractive to the world and draws us, to Yahweh.
The Triune God reveals a gracious model of community. The Trinity is diverse and loving, gracious and giving, egalitarian and honoring, always drawing us in to relationship by creating a space for us. The Triune God is relational within it’s own self, and with creation. Created in the likeness of God, and being restored to that likeness, we are invited to participate in relational redemption with God, each other and ourselves. In this manner it is a strong integrative model as it speaks to the journey to whole-ness (both individually and corporately) available in the kingdom of God.
One manner in which community is revealed is through the element of story. “Story” is life’s narrative: of an individual, of a people. It is the integration of an individual’s story within the larger narrative. This aspect of community is important not only in our relationship with God, but also with each other. It is in the story of the “other” that we are able to see aspects of God, we may not have experienced in our own journey. It is in the story of the other, that God calls us to lay down self, love another and in this way, learn of and model God’s love for us. It is in laying down our own interests for others that we begin to understand areas in our own lives that separate us from God and others.
Without narrative, we limit our understanding of the far reaches of emotion: fear, pain, joy, or peace. Story of the other illuminates the limits of our thinking and breaks boundaries of our experience. Narrative invites us to wonder how our story, and that of the other fits into the meta-narrative of God. It is the South African concept of ubuntu: “our story is wrapped up in the story of others.”
My own experience in understanding narrative has included support and challenges. Growing up, culture both in and outside of the walls of the church seemed less interested in individual stories. Within my faith community, the focal story was identified is the Christian scriptures. It was to these stories we were to look, at times with the reminder that "we (because of our sin) were the cause of the pain evident in some of those stories." Individual stories appeared important only as they matched up to the stories of scripture. There was not much discussion of a corporate story, unless one looked at how an individual’s action “made the church (and by implication, God) look bad.” On the reverse, narrative support came later in life, in the listening presence of friends. These friends attended to my story, the joys, and the wounds and continued to love me. This attuned support offered healing in its simple existence.
My faith tradition did not seem to understand the importance of story. My story was mine and mine alone. There was not an invitation to tell one’s story; it was simply something that you held, alone. The reality is that one carries the burden of the trials and perhaps even the joys, alone. A recent conversation come to mind. This person had held a secret for their entire life and had never had another person with which they could share this information. Keeping the secret seemed to impact the quality of life of the patient more than the actual “thing” that was actually hidden. There was great relief and (I believe) a turning point in the healing by speaking out the secret: this part of their story, out loud to another person. In the holding of the secret, in the missing that part of the narrative, it seemed as if grace was more difficult to access in these situations.
Community, as represent as story, unites us in celebrations of faith such as baptism and communion: coming together, representing the reconciliation and healing grace we can offer to our self and others. The story of the people of God proclaims grace in actions of love and forgiveness. As we experience grace through the telling of our own story and by the attuned listening to the other, we begin to realize the power of the grace needed in the world and how we can participate. We embody God’s Spirit in us; each one images God to each other and to the world. This corporate image is attractive to the world and draws us, to Yahweh.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Living "After Easter"
I was at the store the other day. My family had been lamenting the LACK of Easter candy in the house, so I had told them that the next time I was at the store, I would pick up some discounted Easter candy. As I was picking through the remaining display of candy, I noticed the multitude of chocolate crosses and bunny rabbits. It invited me to wonder about chocolate crosses for Easter….anyway…
Here we are at the third week of Easter. Remembering that the “after holiday” sales usually are focused around getting rid of the extra merchandise, I started thinking about how long the holiday – Easter, in this case - stays in our minds after the candy is gone. Now Easter may stay in our hearts all year as a foundational piece of our faith. We refer to it in our hymns, and traditions. But I wondered how often is it in our minds, in our thinking?
What do the days after Easter represent for us? Sometimes I think the days after Easter are represented by a bag full of holiday discount candy and perhaps some left over ham. Sometimes when Easter is over, we do not often talk about the “what next?” part. We hold the Easter story as an important part of our faith, but do we intentionally think about what is next? What does it mean to live post-resurrection?
Facebook often offers all kinds of holiday links, this is one that I received this year that I thought was pretty interesting to think about.
http://vimeo.com/10639312
Perhaps can we answer the question of “what is next?” with the statement, “it has only just begun.”
“But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. But each in his own turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him.”
I Corinthians 15:20-24
Remember: Live creationally
Let’s talk about Corinthians for a few minutes, and then talk about how Paul’s reference to “first fruits” might be something to consider for us today.
In Corinth we find wisdom and eloquence the values of the day. We see in chapter 3 the Corinthian church contained people at odds with each other and with Paul on various issues. Amidst the divisions, Paul begins the letter by unifying the Corinthians. He addresses them as sanctified and called to be holy, gives thanks for the grace on them – expressed in spiritual gifts.
We see themes of the common life of the congregation and the centrality of Christ’s death and resurrection. The main problem was that these divisions manifesting themselves in quarrels.
The issues Paul addresses are varied, yet hold a common theme; what community should look like as our minds needs to be renewed and changed. Actions were to be creational – life giving. The Corinthians had cultural values that were anti-creational: boasting, competition, self-seeking, etc. Paul identifies these among others, and within the letter contrasts them with creational values, calling the local church to maturity in these areas, evidencing through spiritual gifts and in love.
Live creationally – what is it?
Offering life, not death.
The first issue discussed is an example of not living creationally or in a life giving and affirming manner. In the first few chapters we see the issue to be around which leader people were following. Scholar Ben Witherington shares this: “Corinth was a city where boasting and self-promotion had become an art form.” With its reputation of being highly competitive, the clubs attended and organizations joined were a matter to boast about. It has been suggested that Paul was concerned that the church was falling in to the same pattern by boasting about which teacher they each followed and were thus behaving, not as God’s people, but as a Roman social club. We can also see where this extreme competitiveness would play out in the manner in which the Corinthians viewed their spiritual gifts. Paul states that the boasting that was occurring, was due to a lack of maturity. This boasting was not life giving to the community, within and without of the church.
In chapter 5, we see a response to a report of a relationship between two family members that would shock even the pagans. Paul is very firm - this is not offering life to the participants as well as life to the community as a whole.
Some of these issues are about “being right;” having human wisdom. Some are about “having rights;” freedoms that exist through our relationship with Christ. How does “being right” and “having rights”, have to do with Christian common life theme?
If it isn’t about “having rights” in Christ, what is it about? Loving one another, and giving up your rights for your neighbor. We see this culminate in chapter 13.
The idea of love
Paul gives us a working definition of “love.” NT Wright says that the highest virtue, the greatest quality, the most Jesus-like characteristic we can have is Love.
Paul says that one can “know” all the right things (which “puffs up”), can do all the right things, can exercise all the freedoms that they have in Christ, but if they do not have love, it is nothing. (1 Cor. 13)
Witherington suggests that for “Paul the essence of true spirituality is self-sacrificial love, not gifts, knowledge, or miraculous power.” What a shift for the Corinthians, who were certain that gifts, knowledge and power WAS spirituality.
Paul compares love (patient, kind, does not boast, not self-seeking, doesn’t keep track of wrongs) to what he has just shown the Corinthians to be (prideful, boasting, keep track of wrongs, etc). Paul ultimately believes love, instead of freedom) not freedom or knowledge, is the key for Christians, both to understand the mysteries of faith and as a guide to behavior.”
In Christ(both in death and resurrection,) being “right” (having human wisdom) and having rights (freedoms that exist through our relationship with Christ) are trumped by:
1) Love (13:1 – If I speak with the language of angels, but don’t have love…I am but a banging gong.)
2) through being in relationship with one another, through the work of the Spirit in ourselves and in each other producing mature believers able to do Christ’s kingdom – missional work.
What does this mean for us today?
Imagine with me, what this creational manner of living might look like today.
In reading Paul’s first letter to the Church at Corinth we notice the language of creation Paul uses in “firstfruits.” “Firstfruits” are the first fruits of the season, the choicest of the harvest. Interesting enough – the Jewish festival of first fruits begins the third day of Passover, which was also the day we celebrate as Easter.
First fruits refer to the first of the harvest, and it carries with it an implication that there is more to come. Christ is the first fruits, we are the “more to come.” So, how do we, as the “more to come,” participate in offering life? In living in a creational fashion?
In Corinthians we find Paul encouraging the people of God to join in re-creation, God's restoration of humanity. We also see that Paul corrects those who behave in "anti-creational" ways - things that do not offer life to self and the rest of creation. How do we partner with God’s restoration of humanity? What are actions we can take that offer life? What do we do that is not life giving? How do we, representing the "more to come" participate in God's mission?
In the video we heard, “God has not given up on this world, because this world matters.” Christ came in order to restore his creation to God's own self. This is what Easter is all about. Now that we are on “this side” of the resurrection, and as the church, we are part of God’s restorative project of humanity, what does that mean for us? How do we participate with him? How does it look in every day life?
“We are living in a world in the midst of rescue…when you find your self assuming that it is over, lost and gone and broken and it can never be put back together, is has been destroyed and you swear that it can never be rebuilt, hold on a minute because in fact in that moment, things will have just begun.”
If God has not given up on this world, how can our actions partner with God to restore creation? Everything we do…matters. When we think it (the world) could never be fixed, “hold on because in that moment, things have just begun.” How do you respond to “everything we do…matters?”
Bell states “things have just begun.” The cross was “the beginning” of God’s restorative action on behalf of humankind. How do you respond to an invitation to participate in God’s project restoration for humankind?
I love this quote from N.T. Wright’s book, Surprised by Hope:
“You are – strange though it may seem, almost as hard to believe as the resurrection itself – accomplishing something that will become in due course part God’s new world. Every act of love, gratitude, and kindness; every work of art or music inspired by the love of God and delight in the beauty of his creation; every minute spent teaching a severely handicapped child to read or to walk; every act of care and nurture, of comfort and support, for one’s fellow human beings and for that matter for one’s fellow non-human creatures; and of course every prayer, all Spirit-led teaching, every deed that spreads the gospel, builds up the church, embraces and embodies holiness rather than corruption, and makes the name of Jesus honored in all the world – all of this will find its way, through the resurrecting power of God, into the new creation that God will one day make. That is the logic of the mission of God.”
(N.T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection and the Mission of the Church, p. 208)
I believe Wright starts to paint a picture of our part in the mission of God. We are challenged to consider that everything matters.
1) Every act of expressing love, gratitude, and kindness;
2) Every work of art or music inspired by the love of God and delight in the beauty of his creation;
3) Every minute spent teaching another.
4) Every act of care and nurture, of comfort and support, of creation.
5) Every prayer, all Spirit-led teaching, and every deed that spreads the gospel, builds up the church,
6) Every action that embraces and holiness, honoring the name of Christ works through the power of the resurrection into the re-creation, the new creation God is making.
This is the mission of God. This is our opportunity to participate. This is what it means to live creationally – be be life giving and life affirming in our actions and words. What will our intention be for the week? How can you, how can I choose to live into the mission of God. How do we choose to live creationally – and live "after Easter?"
Here we are at the third week of Easter. Remembering that the “after holiday” sales usually are focused around getting rid of the extra merchandise, I started thinking about how long the holiday – Easter, in this case - stays in our minds after the candy is gone. Now Easter may stay in our hearts all year as a foundational piece of our faith. We refer to it in our hymns, and traditions. But I wondered how often is it in our minds, in our thinking?
What do the days after Easter represent for us? Sometimes I think the days after Easter are represented by a bag full of holiday discount candy and perhaps some left over ham. Sometimes when Easter is over, we do not often talk about the “what next?” part. We hold the Easter story as an important part of our faith, but do we intentionally think about what is next? What does it mean to live post-resurrection?
Facebook often offers all kinds of holiday links, this is one that I received this year that I thought was pretty interesting to think about.
http://vimeo.com/10639312
Perhaps can we answer the question of “what is next?” with the statement, “it has only just begun.”
“But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. But each in his own turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him.”
I Corinthians 15:20-24
Remember: Live creationally
Let’s talk about Corinthians for a few minutes, and then talk about how Paul’s reference to “first fruits” might be something to consider for us today.
In Corinth we find wisdom and eloquence the values of the day. We see in chapter 3 the Corinthian church contained people at odds with each other and with Paul on various issues. Amidst the divisions, Paul begins the letter by unifying the Corinthians. He addresses them as sanctified and called to be holy, gives thanks for the grace on them – expressed in spiritual gifts.
We see themes of the common life of the congregation and the centrality of Christ’s death and resurrection. The main problem was that these divisions manifesting themselves in quarrels.
The issues Paul addresses are varied, yet hold a common theme; what community should look like as our minds needs to be renewed and changed. Actions were to be creational – life giving. The Corinthians had cultural values that were anti-creational: boasting, competition, self-seeking, etc. Paul identifies these among others, and within the letter contrasts them with creational values, calling the local church to maturity in these areas, evidencing through spiritual gifts and in love.
Live creationally – what is it?
Offering life, not death.
The first issue discussed is an example of not living creationally or in a life giving and affirming manner. In the first few chapters we see the issue to be around which leader people were following. Scholar Ben Witherington shares this: “Corinth was a city where boasting and self-promotion had become an art form.” With its reputation of being highly competitive, the clubs attended and organizations joined were a matter to boast about. It has been suggested that Paul was concerned that the church was falling in to the same pattern by boasting about which teacher they each followed and were thus behaving, not as God’s people, but as a Roman social club. We can also see where this extreme competitiveness would play out in the manner in which the Corinthians viewed their spiritual gifts. Paul states that the boasting that was occurring, was due to a lack of maturity. This boasting was not life giving to the community, within and without of the church.
In chapter 5, we see a response to a report of a relationship between two family members that would shock even the pagans. Paul is very firm - this is not offering life to the participants as well as life to the community as a whole.
Some of these issues are about “being right;” having human wisdom. Some are about “having rights;” freedoms that exist through our relationship with Christ. How does “being right” and “having rights”, have to do with Christian common life theme?
If it isn’t about “having rights” in Christ, what is it about? Loving one another, and giving up your rights for your neighbor. We see this culminate in chapter 13.
The idea of love
Paul gives us a working definition of “love.” NT Wright says that the highest virtue, the greatest quality, the most Jesus-like characteristic we can have is Love.
Paul says that one can “know” all the right things (which “puffs up”), can do all the right things, can exercise all the freedoms that they have in Christ, but if they do not have love, it is nothing. (1 Cor. 13)
Witherington suggests that for “Paul the essence of true spirituality is self-sacrificial love, not gifts, knowledge, or miraculous power.” What a shift for the Corinthians, who were certain that gifts, knowledge and power WAS spirituality.
Paul compares love (patient, kind, does not boast, not self-seeking, doesn’t keep track of wrongs) to what he has just shown the Corinthians to be (prideful, boasting, keep track of wrongs, etc). Paul ultimately believes love, instead of freedom) not freedom or knowledge, is the key for Christians, both to understand the mysteries of faith and as a guide to behavior.”
In Christ(both in death and resurrection,) being “right” (having human wisdom) and having rights (freedoms that exist through our relationship with Christ) are trumped by:
1) Love (13:1 – If I speak with the language of angels, but don’t have love…I am but a banging gong.)
2) through being in relationship with one another, through the work of the Spirit in ourselves and in each other producing mature believers able to do Christ’s kingdom – missional work.
What does this mean for us today?
Imagine with me, what this creational manner of living might look like today.
In reading Paul’s first letter to the Church at Corinth we notice the language of creation Paul uses in “firstfruits.” “Firstfruits” are the first fruits of the season, the choicest of the harvest. Interesting enough – the Jewish festival of first fruits begins the third day of Passover, which was also the day we celebrate as Easter.
First fruits refer to the first of the harvest, and it carries with it an implication that there is more to come. Christ is the first fruits, we are the “more to come.” So, how do we, as the “more to come,” participate in offering life? In living in a creational fashion?
In Corinthians we find Paul encouraging the people of God to join in re-creation, God's restoration of humanity. We also see that Paul corrects those who behave in "anti-creational" ways - things that do not offer life to self and the rest of creation. How do we partner with God’s restoration of humanity? What are actions we can take that offer life? What do we do that is not life giving? How do we, representing the "more to come" participate in God's mission?
In the video we heard, “God has not given up on this world, because this world matters.” Christ came in order to restore his creation to God's own self. This is what Easter is all about. Now that we are on “this side” of the resurrection, and as the church, we are part of God’s restorative project of humanity, what does that mean for us? How do we participate with him? How does it look in every day life?
“We are living in a world in the midst of rescue…when you find your self assuming that it is over, lost and gone and broken and it can never be put back together, is has been destroyed and you swear that it can never be rebuilt, hold on a minute because in fact in that moment, things will have just begun.”
If God has not given up on this world, how can our actions partner with God to restore creation? Everything we do…matters. When we think it (the world) could never be fixed, “hold on because in that moment, things have just begun.” How do you respond to “everything we do…matters?”
Bell states “things have just begun.” The cross was “the beginning” of God’s restorative action on behalf of humankind. How do you respond to an invitation to participate in God’s project restoration for humankind?
I love this quote from N.T. Wright’s book, Surprised by Hope:
“You are – strange though it may seem, almost as hard to believe as the resurrection itself – accomplishing something that will become in due course part God’s new world. Every act of love, gratitude, and kindness; every work of art or music inspired by the love of God and delight in the beauty of his creation; every minute spent teaching a severely handicapped child to read or to walk; every act of care and nurture, of comfort and support, for one’s fellow human beings and for that matter for one’s fellow non-human creatures; and of course every prayer, all Spirit-led teaching, every deed that spreads the gospel, builds up the church, embraces and embodies holiness rather than corruption, and makes the name of Jesus honored in all the world – all of this will find its way, through the resurrecting power of God, into the new creation that God will one day make. That is the logic of the mission of God.”
(N.T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection and the Mission of the Church, p. 208)
I believe Wright starts to paint a picture of our part in the mission of God. We are challenged to consider that everything matters.
1) Every act of expressing love, gratitude, and kindness;
2) Every work of art or music inspired by the love of God and delight in the beauty of his creation;
3) Every minute spent teaching another.
4) Every act of care and nurture, of comfort and support, of creation.
5) Every prayer, all Spirit-led teaching, and every deed that spreads the gospel, builds up the church,
6) Every action that embraces and holiness, honoring the name of Christ works through the power of the resurrection into the re-creation, the new creation God is making.
This is the mission of God. This is our opportunity to participate. This is what it means to live creationally – be be life giving and life affirming in our actions and words. What will our intention be for the week? How can you, how can I choose to live into the mission of God. How do we choose to live creationally – and live "after Easter?"
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