Dance Into Hope

Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.

Romans 12:12

Perhaps Paul might have written this sentence backwards.

Perseverance in prayer will nurture your joy and hope and patience.

The sentence is a circle rather than a line.  Much of scripture, and in fact the spiritual life itself, does not conform to our chronological, linear perceptions.

God is timeless.

The attributes and graces of God are also timeless.

Hope, the uplifting of the heart in love with Christ, moves through our veins like cool water.

Hope is refreshing, especially when we are surrounded by words and actions that try to make us seem silly or naïve when we are hopeful.

But we follow a Savior who was walking Hope.  Crowds came toward Him with their secret knowing, hoping for an answer to their suffering and He gave them abundant life!

We have a choice when confronted with such Love.  We can retreat to the places from which we have come and which are familiar to us, OR

We can leap into new life, today, and dance into hope.

As Annie Dillard says:

“How we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

This is the day the Lord has made-this day, this moment, is filled with light and hope.

Whatever is trying to darken your spirit now-turn away and spend your life’s energy on light.

Blessings, Debra

And He continued by questioning them, “But who do you say that I am?”

Mark 8

This question addressed to Jesus’ intimate followers, is a question for each of us to ponder.  If we have a relationship with Jesus, then we must have an image or a sense of His identity.

“But who do you say that I am?”

Do we say who Jesus is?  Can we even begin to utter or describe to ourselves, let alone someone else, who Jesus is for us?

When I was praying through the Ignatian exercises, this question emerged.  This is no question with a qualifying, perhaps or maybe.  This question sears into the heart of the Christ relationship and requires a response.

And the response?  After much spluttering and silence, I was able to make this answer-

“You are the One I love.”

“But who do you say that I am?”

Whatever the answer we make, including no answer, we will have set our feet upon a new pathway.

My answer has required more prayer and more diligent discernment of the pathway of love.

Love is an act of the will.  It is new behavior.  It is an orientation toward the Beloved like magnetic north.  Wherever I am my compass points north and my heart yearns to make my feet go that direction.

Doesn’t always mean I follow my desires, but I certainly do feel them!

“But who do you say that I am?”

Each of us will answer this question in our own way, from our own hearts.  And the answer will change from year to year.

Engage with the question.

Imagine that Jesus is with you right now, looking upon you, and saying to you in His own beautiful way:

“But who do you say that I am?”

Dark Night

Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!

-From Dark Night of the Soul

St. John of the Cross

This July, Theology and Spirit decided to read Dark Night of the Soul by Gerald May.   It is an exploration of the concept of the dark night and what it might mean for us today.

As a spiritual director I have often heard this phrase bandied about, most often in connection with depression or a difficult passage in life.  While these times may definitely be dark, and we may feel lost as we move through them, the dark night of the soul is something else.

The word used in John’s manuscript is la noche oscura, which translates literally as the night obscure.  The classic understanding of dark night is God working with the soul in mystery or obscurely.

Gerald May describes the divine work of the dark night in this way:

It is the secret way in which God not only liberates us from our attachments and idolatries, but also brings us to the realization of our true nature.  The night is the means by which we find our heart’s desire, our freedom for love.

As we have so often on this blog, we return to the theme of freedom.

God is consistent and steadfast.  We are called to freedom.

Like a skilled surgeon, God uses the dark night to remove those things that inhibit our experience of freedom.  Some of our attachments need to be released at a very deep level.

What we gain from the dark night is soul clarity.

Blessings,

Debra

 



Full Text of The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross

The Electric Word

The voice of the Lord is over the waters;

the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over mighty waters.

 Psalm 29

The sound of thunder is literally electric.  As the heated air expands rapidly, deep explosive sounds pour forth.  If you’ve been outside as one of these storms approach you can both see, hear and feel the power that is being unleashed in sky and earth.

Thunder and lightening and storms are dramatic moments, which cause us to sit up and take notice.  We can experience fear and awe and wonder.  A thunderstorm is not to be taken lightly.

It is no wonder, then, that the Psalmist compares God’s voice to the sound of thunder.  Anyone who has heard the call of God, experienced the beauty of God, known the saving power of God, knows what it is like to be caught up in a divine storm of both light, sound, and complete re-orientation.

Annie Dillard writes, "Does anyone have the foggiest idea of what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews."

Dillard’s contemporary spin on the Psalmists description of the power of the Word reminds us how often we float into the scriptures on a raft of complacency when we are being invited to radical conversion.  We seek comfort, when we are offered redemption.  We hope for enough grace to get through the week ahead, when we are being given grace poured forth and running over. 

Let’s listen to that powerful voice thundering forth into our hearts.  Let’s throw off caution and put on the mantle of trust in the Living God.

A Desire for God

“O God, you are my God, I seek you,

   my soul thirsts for you;” (Psalm 63:1)

 This week I am including an MP3 file as the reflection for Psalm 63.

The Psalm is a passionate request for deeper communion with God.

The words themselves speak of an intense longing for the Beloved.

All of us, I believe have known this longing.  Sometimes, it comes out of loneliness and despair.  Sometimes it emerges in the midst of great rejoicing and gratitude.  But always, it expresses an elemental truth about human beings which is the desire to connect with the Other.

All it takes is a willingness to make some space-space in our day, space in our lives-space in our hearts.

So make a little space today and listen to the meditation.
PSALM 63

Truth and Beauty

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you. (Phil 4:8-9)

Paul writes to the Philippians at a time when they needed to hear a ‘word’ of instruction about ‘right thinking.’  Paul knows, as do we, that our actions proceed from our thinking.  Orienting our thinking toward the truth and beauty of God’s vision inspires actions that are worthy of the faith that is in us.

Some of our actions find their way into our speech.  Our discourse, both secular and religious, has taken a turn toward the negative.  We are not hesitant to criticize each other, or to assume the harshest motivations for behaviors we may not understand.  We don’t take time to understand one another because that would involve opening to the heart of the other. 

Paul proposes a different kind of interaction to the small church in Philippi and to us.  Think on whatever is true, whatever is pleasing.  In other words those old hallmarks of philosophy and poetry, which are here presented as Christian virtues.   These virtues emphasize hope and serve as counterpoints to the despair that appears to be a strong theme in modern secular discourse. 

Paul is not talking about MY truth or MY beauty, but the truth that comes from a beloved community who are in the body of Christ.  Together we can discern truth and beauty in each other, in the community and in the world.

What would our discourse sound like if we left alone these negative, critical postures and stood together in a posture of love and consideration?

I believe that discourse would be a hymn to the Living Lord; with a beat no one could resist moving to.  We would sing and we would dance.  We would care for one another and we would love each other, without a requirement of perfection.  The people would be free, and the children would not have to wonder why the adults were so angry.

  

Learning From Christ

For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

John 13:15

It often happens that as I read scripture I am stopped suddenly by one image or phrase.  Verse 15 in John’s 13^th chapter had that effect on me this morning. 
The setting is familiar—the disciples are gathered and Jesus is teaching through example.  He is washing their dusty, and probably tired, feet.  He is serving them and showing them both the beauty and necessity of service.

But this one sentence-you should do as I have done to you-sums up the whole Christian life.

Thomas a Kempis wrote a book about this way of following Jesus called The Imitation of Christ.

If we wish to be truly enlightened and free from all blindness of heart let our chief effort, therefore, be to study the life of Jesus Christ.

It is natural for us to imitate or desire to be like those we admire, and those we love.  Human beings learn through watching and practicing the behaviors of others.

Because we are social creatures; we are community creatures.  We flourish most when we allow the scriptures and sacraments and members of the Body of Christ to teach us about Christ.

In order to learn, though, we have to be teachable.  We have to be willing to listen humbly and generously to others.

It is hard to learn when you are sure of your own knowledge.

So as we walk toward the Cross and Resurrection this week, let’s suspend all that we think we know about this journey and let God teach us anew.  God’s saving love will reach even the darkest corners of our sorrow, and make them shine with Resurrection light!

The Way of the Cross

We prepare for Holy Week by celebrating Jesus' triumphant ride

into Jerusalem.  This is just another paradox in the Christian

 liturgical year which reflects the continual rise and fall of

 the cruciform life.

And what is this cruciform life?  Simply described as a life 

lived in the shape of the Cross of Christ, it is not so simply

 lived.  The Cross itself is rooted in the earth, even as it 

points to heaven.  The arms of the Cross are stretched out to 

receive the precious arms of Jesus, even as they reach right 

around the world in a redeeming embrace.

To live a Cross-shaped life means that I acknowledge my temporal

 home of earth, because this is the land upon which I now walk 

with Christ.  But I do not forget my true citizenship, as Paul 

describes it, which is heaven.

I follow the Cross and open to the broken world, which may also 

break me. But I stretch out my arms, in imitation of Jesus, so 

that whether I am hurt or not, I stand in a posture of love.

And I look for the Day of His coming.  Holy Week brings me 

through all of the ways Jesus walked the Way of the Cross. 

Celebration, Eucharist, suffering, abandonment and death.

Let me not rush too quickly to Easter.  There is much to be

 learned about the love of Christ on the Way to and 

upon the Cross.

In the Wilderness

And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness for forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.

Whenever we find ourselves in the wilderness, we can be confident in God’s presence as well as God’s desire for our well-being.  This week we welcome the Rev. Martha Macgill as our guest writer.  She will also be leading our Quiet Day on March 17^th.  Her reflections bring up some questions worthy of consideration.  Please feel free to respond here.

We live in so many spiritual places.  We live in the wilderness.  We can also live in the temple.  Sometimes we find ourselves in the garden by the empty tomb.  As we approach the Quiet Day this Saturday, I wonder in what spiritual place we find ourselves this Lent.  Is the wilderness a place of angels, wild beasts or both?  Is the wilderness a place of rest?  Perhaps we have been cleansing a temple or two this Lent?  Is that a place of judgment or compassionate action?  And finally, some of us may just be at the empty tomb, wondering what comes next.  God is in all these places.  Our challenge is to remember and look for God. -Martha

Holy Ground

God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ Then he said, ‘Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’

Exodus 3

In the tradition of the Old Testament and moving into the New Testament, the wilderness or desert is always holy ground.  Moses takes off his shoes as a way to concretize his awareness of that holiness.

Every wilderness can be holy if we will invite God into it with us, or if we, like Moses, will turn and see that God is already tending the fire of our salvation.

Some wilderness experiences are dark and we cannot, at first, find even a flicker of that light promised by the burning bush.  Often these are experiences into which we are driven, such as grief and despair.  And yet, we have the example of Jesus-driven into the wilderness and waiting upon God.  Jesus’ responses to the tempter can inspire us to call out for Jesus’ wisdom, even if the only word we can utter is help.

Other wilderness experiences are chosen by us.  The church invites us into the wilderness of Lent, and we can accept that invitation in order to deepen our experience of holiness.  Sometimes we may go away for a while, as Jesus did, to pray and commune with God.

Whatever the circumstance of our wilderness experience we can be confident that God will meet us there.  Bidden or unbidden God will be with us.  The holy ground upon which we stand in the wilderness has been sanctified by God’s presence.

All Moses needed to do was turn. 

Turn aside and see the blazing glory of the Lord.

Blessings,

Debra

It is not too late to join us March 10^th and 17^th to explore wilderness spirituality.  Go to Quiet Day

Path to Freedom

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

This week theology and spirit are praying with the Lenten sermon given by the Archbishop of Canterbury.  The sermon is about freedom and the example of the truly free disciple is Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Bonhoeffer wrote four prose poems shortly before he was executed in a German prison.  Each focused on a particular stepping-stone to freedom in Christ.  They move from discipline, action, suffering and then through to death.

These poems are autobiographical, but they also point to a pathway for all to take.  The pathway to spiritual freedom will not be easy, but it will be rich.  As we discipline ourselves by spending time in the scripture, our hearts soften toward God and others.  The actions that come out of that discipline are inspired by love.  And where there is love, there is joy and there is suffering.  We suffer when we see the pain that our beloved endures, even as we ourselves endure the pain of misunderstanding and ridicule.  Death allows us to finally let go of all that attaches us to the parts of our life that are not love.  Jesus reminded us that to ‘save our life, we must lose it’.  That is what Bonhoeffer is talking about here.

This seems to me a beautiful way to describe our Lenten journey.  Begun in discipline, undertaken in action and suffering, finally our new vision can see that which we need to release.  When the journey’s catalyst is love, the steps will be softened by desire.

I include the step of action here for you to ponder:

Daring to do what is right, not what fancy may tell you valiantly grasping occasions, not cravenly doubting - freedom comes only through deeds, not through thoughts taking wing. Faint not nor fear, but go out to the storm and the action, trusting in God whose commandment you faithfully follow; freedom exultant will welcome your spirit with joy. -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Ash Wednesday

Yet even now, says the Lord,
   return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
   rend your hearts and not your clothing.
Return to the Lord, your God,
   for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love,
   and relents from punishing.

Joel 2

Some cultures are comfortable with an outward manifestation of mourning.  Some still tear their clothing and weep.   But most of us do not show what is truly in our hearts when we are suffering deep grief.  We try to ‘keep it together’. 

This approach to heart piercing emotion can be just as false, in its own way, as an overly outward expression of grief that may not be deeply felt.

Joel is encouraging Israel to go deeper.

Don’t just make a show of your repentance, actually repent!  Twice Israel is invited to return to the Lord.  This is the prophet’s call to conversion of spirit—a change of heart.

Open your hearts, Israel, and let the God of mercy love you.

While Ash Wednesday is filled with calls to repent, to fast and to weep about the ways in which sin has increased our disaffection from
God, it is really a call to deeper love.

God is calling us back to center.

God is inviting us to shed the outer trappings of sorrow and embrace the truth of our heart’s desires.

Some of us need to mourn.  Let us mourn with confidence in God’s loving kindness.

Some of us need to repent.  Let us turn around into the light of God’s mercy.

Some of us need to know that God delights in us, just as we are.

Let us dance to the music of God’s grace.

Whatever you need for Lent this year-turn around.

Turn, twirl, and pirouette.

Rend your hearts and not your garments!

Blessings,

Debra

Holy Wilderness

He sustained him in a desert land,
   in a howling wilderness waste;
he shielded him, cared for him,
   guarded him as the apple of his eye.

Deuteronmy 32

It has been true throughout recorded spiritual history (and probably non-recorded history) that we often find God when we are stripped bare and open to God’s appearance.  It is in these wilderness places of the heart, these deserts of the soul, that we are most likely to encounter the Divine.

Lent, as practiced by the Church, is meant to be a journey into wilderness through prayer, confession and abstinence.  Lest we find this description too bleak, we have only to look to the Song of Moses in Deuteronomy to remember that God journeys with us.  Moses sings of God’s gentle, sheltering care within the wild places.  God is a soft place in the hard rock of the desert.

I had my first experiences of God in what others might consider a wilderness, the countryside and mountains of Alaska.  For me the vast emptiness of landscape and the large grandeur of an unending sky spoke to the deepest parts of my soul.  My God was very big, and I was very small.  Dangers notwithstanding, the cold arctic moon revived my spirit and the clear arctic days sharpened my love of beauty.

Space to move around in, and space to think, created openness to revelation.  And this is what Lent is actually about, I think.  Making space.

Our Lenten observations can make space in our schedules.  Our confessions can make space in our consciences.  Our prayers make space in our hearts.

We need space.  We need soul room.  We need enough air around us to breath deeply of the Spirit of the Lord, and to imagine a new vision for our lives.

When we enter the wilderness of Lent with the expectation of encounter, we will be guided, like Jesus, to the reality of our identity in God.

This year there will be two opportunities to explore holy wilderness.  March 10^th and March 17^th the Center for Spiritual Development and Memorial Church will offer Quiet Days focused on the Way of the Wilderness.  For more information check out the
website.   http://www.saintjames.org/CSD/120213-lent.html

Released

The very night before Herod was going to bring him out, Peter, bound with two chains, was sleeping between two soldiers, while guards in front of the door were keeping watch over the prison. Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared and a light shone in the cell. He tapped Peter on the side and woke him, saying, ‘Get up quickly.’ And the chains fell off his wrists.

Acts 12

The Book of Acts is filled with stories of peril and deliverance from prison to shipwreck, the disciples encounter many dangers to the mission they have undertaken.

It is easy to tremble a little when considering the tremendous courage of those early brothers and sisters of the faith.  And it is natural to read the story from their point of view. 

But wait, the scripture is about God, isn’t it?  The focus is God’s actions within the sphere of God’s people.  The miraculous story of Peter’s release tells us something we need to know about the Living Lord.

God desires our freedom.

Jesus stood in the congregation and announced a ministry that would release captives.

There are no walls, no obstacles, and no chains that are too high, too strong or too secure for God to break through and set us free.

My dear ones, this is very good news, because we are all captivated by something.  Few of us live a life of true freedom, without fear.

If God can enter a prison and break the chains that bound Peter, God can enter whatever your prison is, shine a light upon it and break your chains of captivity.

Will you let Him?

Blessings,

Debra

A Story of My Own

Ghost Ranch Labyrinth

“I saw the Lord always before me,
   for he is at my right hand so that I will not be shaken;
therefore my heart was glad, and my tongue rejoiced;
   moreover, my flesh will live in hope.”

Psalm 16 (as found in Acts 2)

In Theology and Spirit we have started a study on the Acts of the Apostles.  This fits in with our theme of discipleship as we read about the early band of Christians beginning a new community of faith.

Acts is a story of walking in perseverance and faith.  The apostles do keep the ‘Lord always before them’.  Jesus’ new ministry, mediated through the Holy Spirit, sets the young church on the right path.

Acts tells a story of single-mindedness; the desire of a group of believers to will one thing.  It is an adventure of divine proportion!

We may not be the young church, but we are still invited to be a group walking in perseverance and faith.  We are meant to add our adventure with Christ to the Book of Acts.

I wonder what we will call our own adventure?

Will it be the part-time witness of a sometime Christian?

Will we write a story of mystery and surprise?

Or are we waiting for God to write the book of our life?

I want to follow in the inspired tradition of faithful witnesses to the power of Christ.

And let us be clear about what that tradition really consists of.  It is Peter floundering as well as preaching.  It includes desert fathers and mothers running away from and running into Christ.  The tradition tells about the transformation of notorious sinners and the saintliness of average citizens.

If I want to follow the tradition, I must allow myself the freedom to encounter Christ with the real me-sinner or saint, and everything in between.

So today, my adventure will be offering my true self to God.

Blessings,

Debra