Journey into the Heart of God...One Breath at a Time

With every breath we have a choice. With every breath I have a choice. Breathe in. Breathe out. With each breath something enters and something leaves. It is part of my life quest to learn to breathe in God's breath and to expel everything else. Since all of creation is born of God and since God loves, embraces, and infuses all of creation, one might think breathing God would not be a difficult thing to do. What a silly assumption that would be.

In the first steps of faithful living we invite God into our lives. We seek to put God at the center of our lives. But a deeper faith challenges us to live in God, for us to move more deeply into God. This is a never-ending journey. We can always move further into God. In a deeply faithful life, there are no such things as laurels upon which to rest or pride on which to rely or even a separate self to preserve. The mystic, the contemplative, the lover of God learns how to die to self in order to fully become self, to be emptied in order to be filled, to die in order to be raised. This is the paradox of faith. Such a life requires measured, meaningful, thoughtful, and intentional breath. In it, there is no room for anything other than God because there is nothing other than God - at least nothing real. God is the ultimate reality.

To live in such a way demands that we relinquish certain holds the world has on us. Yet, I admit that many of those holds are hard to break. They are like lint that won't shake off, like that piece of toilet paper trailing from the bottom of the shoe, like a piece of spinach that just won't dislodge from between those two teeth! From our early years, we are taught that the strong survive and thrive, that competition bears the best fruit, that comfort, money, and success (to one degree or another) are the standards of a life well lived. That, of course, doesn't mean that all of us strive to be millionaires or that we are all driven by unchecked greed or that we don't love neighbor. But, for the person who seeks to move ever more deeply into the heart of God, even the weakest forms of these self-seeking tendencies need to be faced and relinquished. That is my struggle. Sometimes I would prefer to play a video game than quiet my heart and sit in communion with God. I sometimes prefer to be distracted by a movie than experience silence. Sometimes I just don't want to breathe in God. I'd rather not think about my breathing at all. Sometimes.

The hardest part of seeking to live inside of God's own heart - at least for me - is to love as God loves. Wastefully. Fully. When I feel that I've failed, it's when I've not been able to fully love. Judgment, anger, impatience. These three form the triumvirate challenge of my spiritual life. Impatience and judgment run a close race for leader of the pack. When I leave work thinking badly about the day, usually I know that I did not fully surrender to God - that I did not listen deeply enough because I was distracted, that I did not spend enough time with someone because I was impatient, that I did not allow a process to emerge in its own way because I was so certain of how it should be. When these things happen, I have been an obstacle to God rather than God's faithful servant. And, I am reminded how important that silence I resist really is and how important breathing in God's breath really is. When the day ends in joy, I can look back and name the moments when God used me - this broken vessel - in a way that helped another person. There was real humanity in that day, whether in tears or laughter or honest sharing. That's a holy and wonderful day.

We live in a world of pain, hurt, fear, despair, war, environmental crisis, violence, and isolation. We live busy lives that are full of appointments, children, pets, houses, gardens, friends, work, sports, events, volunteerism, passions, and laughter. All around us and from within us there are voices competing to express themselves and to be heard. But, for us to be attentive to them - really attentive - we must also take breaks from them so that we might move further into God. Otherwise, the world and its cacophony threaten to overwhelm us.

Tonight when I breathe in, I choose to breathe in God's holy breath, the breath which Jesus breathed into his disciples when he said, "Peace be with you." I choose to breathe out that room I didn't get cleaned, the tasks I didn't complete, and the impatience that pulls me out of the 'now'. Tonight when I breathe in, I pray "Christ have mercy." I breathe out everything else.

Saint Catherine of Siena said, "We must live in simplicity, with neither pretensions nor mannerism nor servile fear. We must walk in the light of a living faith that shines in more than mere words- and always so, in adversity as well as in prosperity, in times of persecution as well as in times of consolation" (Letter to Blessed Raymond of Capua).

She also said,

"Eternal Trinity, you are a deep ocean, in which the more I seek, the more I find; and the more I find, the more I seek. You satisfy my soul, yet leave it hungry, for in your depths my satisfied soul desires you still more and yearns to see you, the Light, in your own light.

I tasted and in my mind's eye, with the aid of your light, I saw the abyss of yourself, eternal Trinity, and the beauty of your creation. Therefore, clothing myself in you, I saw myself as your image, filled with your power, Eternal Father, and with the wisdom which is your Son, Your Holy Spirit gave me a will that I might love" (Dialogue on Divine Providence).

Thank you, St. Catherine, for your prayer. I'll just breathe it in, too!

Lent Theme: Unclutter ______

A "Season of Sabbath" is what I unwisely decided to name our theme for Lent at the church I serve. While it gets to the point that I want to make, the word "Sabbath" isn't a compelling word for a lot of people. Moreover, people aren't going to cease from their labor for a whole season.

A few weeks ago, I was visiting a friend's house and saw a television commercial (I don't have broadcast TV, so I see very few commercials) from publicstorage.com. It is called "Accumulator." This ad made me gasp (you may watch it after the jump).

I know that the idea of uncluttering our lives is not a new one for Lent, but I have always found the thought of uncluttering *my* life to be a rather individualistic approach to the season. It's also pretty person-centered and not particularly God-centered. Sabbath, on the other, hand is really about God. God ceased from labor, and so do we. God rejoiced in creation, and so do we. God delivered us from slavery, and so we care about the labor of others. Sabbath begins with God; we are invited into God's rest, God's joy, God's justice. And, we are invited all together. Not individually. What does this have to do with accumulation, you might wonder. Well, at the heart of the Sabbath ethic is the idea that we take only what we need and leave the rest for others. In Exodus, before the people have been given the Law by Moses, they are told to gather manna. They are instructed only to take enough for one day and to take only enough for their household. On the sixth day, they may gather enough for two days and no more, that they may rest from their labor as God rested on the seventh day. This manna rule - this story about accumulation - is about clutter and rapaciousness. It is also about fear.

We often gather things into our lives out of fear. Fear drives us to look upon other people as wholly different from ourselves, and their "otherness" allows us to treat them as we could never bear to be treated. Fear tells us to hoard - food, clothes, things that need casting away. Fear compels us to upgrade, upsize, and get the next big thing. Fear whispers to us that there may not be enough food, so eat! Fear tells us that others want what we want, so build fences, install alarms, and post cameras. Fear can be found at the root of much of American anxiety. And, it is at work in our emotional lives as much as it is at work in our physical lives.

Because of fear, we hold on to wounds, grudges, and prejudice. This emotional clutter drives us to a kind of emotional or spiritual rapaciousness. People can need love so much that they put themselves in physical danger. People may repeat hurtful relationship patterns that they have lived through in their past. People may be afraid to seek or extend forgiveness. Both of these are very dangerous. To know we need forgiveness without the humility to seek it robs a person of healing and continues the original misdeed into the future. To be unable to forgive keeps both the offending party and the offended party held hostage to a past that cannot be changed. And, it sends them both into the future to carry that wound forward into the lives of others.

Fear drives people to greed and to unchecked accumulation. If there is one thing that Americans need to learn to do, it is to let go of accumulation as a cultural value. To do this, we, as a whole culture, must begin to examine our fears and to challenge them.

Sabbath does just this. It provides a wholly different approach to the world that trusts in abundance and in God's guiding presence. Sabbath makes no room for fear; it is too busy making room for the "other" - for the stranger, for the neighbor, and for all of creation to thrive. Lent is a season that invites the Christian to examine all that obstructs us from God's presence. What fears hold us captive? What fasts do we need to take on in order to enter into God's kin-dome (Isaiah 58)? What spiritual practices will bring us near to God? What habits need cultivating that will foster our authentic selves and dispel our false selves? What priorities do we need to establish in order to see the stranger as our neighbor and to treat our neighbor as ourselves? These are deep questions of faith. They do not ask us to find new ways to store the accumulation in our lives. They challenge us to pare down that which does not serve God.

God has gifted us with life, but it is our holy and sacred challenge to sort out how to live it. Lent is a time of justification. But it is not a time for navel gazing. Lent, as a time of preparation for the convert or repentance for the Christian, challenges us to re-center ourselves in God's glory, that we may be born from heave and raised with Christ come Easter morn. These phrases may mean little in our secular world, but they simply mean that through the process of re-centering, re-focusing, uncluttering, and prioritizing, we can let go of the vices of this world in order to be born into God's vision for this world. This rebirth gives us God's eyes with which to view creation and God's heart for all of creation. And, by this rebirth, we are raised to new life as Jesus. The powers and principalities of this world - the powers of sin and death - cannot hold us prisoner any longer because we live in a world ruled not by scarcity, not by sin, not by death, but by abundance, right relationship, and life. This is to what you are invited. And, we don't get there by accumulation. We get there by trust and through service. A new way of living altogether.

Video: Brian McLaren on Queries and Spiritual Disciplines

In the course of creating a video-based curriculum on spiritual practices, I have been privileged to meet a number of fascinating people, some of whom are famous, most of whom are not, all of whom are inspiring. In a conversation with Brian McLaren, he spoke about the power of queries to change how we experience the world. Here is a snippet of what he had to say. Just for the sake of context, I will say that the conversation in general was focused on Sabbath-keeping. I hope you enjoy this and if you are interested in hearing more about this project, please get in touch! I plan on sharing more tidbits from other conversations over the course of the next few months.

"A Blessing of Solitude" - John O'Donohue

With all that is going on in the world, I thought of this poem by John O'Donohue. Found in his book "Anam Cara" in the section "One of the Greatest Sins is the Unlived Life," he writes:

"The shape of each soul is different. There is a secret destiny for each person. When you endeavor to repeat what others have done or force yourself into a preset mold, you betray your individuality. We need to return to the solitude within, to find again the dream that lies at the hearth of the soul. We need to feel the dream with the wonder of a child approaching a threshold of discovery. When we rediscover our childlike nature, we enter into a world of gentle possibility. Consequently, we will find ourselves more frequently at that place, at the place of ease, delight, and celebration. The false burdens fall away. We come into rhythm with ourselves. Our clay shape gradually learns to walk beautifully on this magnificent earth" (124-125).

To help us find that "world of gentle possibility" and to help our clay shapes "walk beautifully on this magnificent earth," he gives us this poem:

A Blessing of Solitude
-John O'Donohue

May you recognize in your life the presence, power, and light of your soul.
May you realize that you are never alone,
that your soul in its brightness and belonging connects you intimately with the rhythm of the universe.
May you have respect for you own individuality and difference.
May you realize that the shape of your soul is unique, that
you have a special destiny here,
that behind the facade of your life there is something
beautiful, good, and eternal happening.
May you learn to see yourself with the same delight, pride,
and expectation with which God sees you in every moment.

Jimmy Carter Breaks with the Southern Baptist Convention

I've often wondered why he stayed so long given his outlooks on so many topics. In "The Age" President Carter writes an essay reflecting upon his reasons to finally leave his denomination of 60 years. I think this essay asks many Christians to define for themselves why they do or do not stay within the denominations that form and inform their lives.

books for adults during advent

I've posted a couple of books that are good reads during Advent. Here is a longer list of books that I recommend. They tell about the spiritual journeys of people who have lived great lives, people who are inquisitive about the world and the God who made and continually remakes it, or they are books that invite you onto your own spiritual path. If you know of additional books that I might enjoy reading or if you have suggestions for me to pass on to other people, please let me know.

Thirst - Mary Oliver
Reason for Hope - Jane Goodall
Thomas Merton: Dialogues with Silence
Advent and Christmas Wisdom from Henri J.M. Nouwen
The Long Loneliness - Dorothy Day
40-Day Journey with Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Christmastide:Prayers for Advent through Epiphany from the Divine Hours - Phyllis Tickle
Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas Daily Advent readings from spiritual writers including: CS Lewis, Thomas Merton, Philip Yancey, Madeleine L’Engle, Henri Nouwen, Kathleen Norris, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Annie Dillard, Dorothy Day, and many others.
Bread for the Journey - Henri Nouwen
Living Well - Joan Chittister

"reason for hope" is a good book for advent

Advent is just a couple of weeks away and people are gearing up for the season. From buying advent calendars to finding the right reading materials, Christians are lining up their spiritual disciplines for the season of preparation.

There are many good books to move us through Advent. From Mary Oliver's book of poems "Thirst", which was released last year to good old reliables like Henri Nouwen to something in between like Parker Palmer's "Let Your Life Speak" there are plenty of books to help people look deeper into their souls and travel farther along their spiritual journeys.

I would like to lift up a book that was released nearly a decade ago - Jane Goodall's "Reason for Hope". Most people are familiar with her work with chimpanzees, but many people are not aware of her walk in faith. "Reason for Hope" outlines many of her mystical encounters with the divine and it also lays out her struggle with faith in the wake of loss and death. She explores good and evil, and she is moved by the capacity for both of these among the chimps she loves. She holds nothing back. In the end, Jane Goodall is convinced that goodness can prevail in this world. She believes in a higher purpose in life. And she believes that we can reach out to our higher purpose by caring for creation.

For something different this Advent, pick up a copy of "Reason for Hope: A Spiritual Journey" by Jane Goodall. It is available in traditional book form as well as ebook and audiobook forms.

what does it mean to be "called"

All Christians have a calling in their lives. Most of us will experience a number of "calls" - urges from God that lead us into new places on behalf of the gospel. I don't believe that God asks us to do one and only one thing and then our work is done. God asks us to work for the sake of the gospel throughout the entirety of our lives, calling us again and again onto different journeys.

The language and concept of "call" is very familiar to me growing up in church, in the South, and in a pretty observant home. I'm learning, however, that not everyone is comfortable with this language or the idea that we all have work to do for God's reign. Many Christians unfortunately don't appreciate that all of us in the body of Christ - clergy and lay, men and women, young and old, uneducated and educated, urban and rural - are called by God. All people are gifted and needed, invited and sent by God for the sake of the world.

To be "called" is to recognize that God has a claim on our lives. Too often the church doesn't explain or explore what it means to have a calling or to be called. We simply expect folks to intuitively know what being called means, but they don't. I know people who bristle at the word "call." They've never seen a burning bush. They don't hear God in their head when they pray. They don't experience revelations on a daily basis. How can they know what God is calling them to do? How can they know who God is calling them to be?

I think it's important for us to spend time together in extended silence listening to God's breath in our breath, God's hope in our hearts, God's joy in our joy. Most of us won't have earth-shattering mystical moments...and that's okay. But all of us can experience God tugging at our hearts in such a way that we know that we are being led, urged, invited, called into a sacred and holy life.

Callings can be big and they can seem not so big. We can be called to teach Sunday school or sell our possessions and join an intentional community. We can find ourselves moving closer and closer to a way of life that on one level seems foreign and odd to us and on another level normal and quite reasonable. Sometimes callings challenge everything about us; often they do not.

In my life I have felt an urging in my heart to stop eating meat; and I have. I have felt compelled to live on the earth in a way that honors God and God's creation; I'm still learning how to do that. I have been called away from my home to Washington state for the sake of ministry. I have been called to other countries in order to stir up passions in others for the global church. I have also had callings that I have ignored. Too often I realized this after the fact. God not only calls us over and over, but we can experience multiple calls at once...so, just because you've said "yes" to God about one thing doesn't mean that God isn't already urging you in another way.

All of us are called by God. How are you called for the sake of the gospel, for the sake of creation, for the sake of your community, for the sake of prophecy, for the sake of faithfulness, for the sake of God's realm? How are you called?

looking for purpose and meaning

Recently a parishioner told me that she thinks people don't attend church because people don't really have a deep spiritual hunger. Her reflections (and she's a generation older than me) didn't seem to reflect what I see going on in the world, especially among the people of my peer group. As I listened to my parishioner, I couldn't help but think about the release of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix last week and the upcoming release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows this week. Stories like these - and all hero quest stories - seem to be tapping into a great spiritual hunger. I see people looking high and low for meaning and purpose. What I don't see, though, is the church helping in these quests. We have become so entangled in doctrinal disputes (often about what I would consider non-essentials), embroiled in clergy sexual misconduct scandals, and engaged in political conflict that the effort required of people to participate in our church communities isn't worth exerting...at least for the non-churched people I know.

As I listened to this parishioner, once again I realized that there exists between the "Boomer" generation (I hate generational nomenclature) and Xers/Millennials a great divide. One of the differences between these generations is that Boomers believe in their own agency/power to change the world and the Xers/Millennials maintain skepticism of this ability. However, it seems the younger generations hold a hope for our skepticism to be dispelled. When I look at the prevalence of television shows, movies, and books like Heroes, Lost, Kyle XY, Harry Potter, X Men, and many, many others I see a generation searching for meaning in existence and the power to change the world. We want someone to tell us that change is possible and that we have some agency to bring it about. We are trying to find that iconic and archetypal story to which we can cling and from which we can find empowerment.

As a Christian I believe that my faith is grounded in a story of the greatest import. It begins with a people with no meaning and no identity being claimed by the greatest of gods. This God leads them from oppression to freedom, charges them with a sacred duty to be a light to all nations, and calls the misfits from among them to bear again and again the word of this God. Eventually there rose a man who could embody the grace, love, and power of this God who lived among the people sowing seeds of change and nonviolent revolution. Because of his choices, his life, and his works he was killed, but the powers and principalities of this world still could not beat him. Death could not defeat him. Furthermore, my story tells me that the same power that coursed through his veins lives in mine. The same message of justice and mercy that he brought to the world needs to be brought today. The same power that raised him from the dead will raise the entire world, liberating all of creation from the powers and principalities that push down, oppress, ensnare, and disempower. This story is greater than all of the superhero stories and more empowering than all of the hero quest narratives.

Can the church regain our voice to tell this story? Can we leave behind the squabbles that hold us down? Can we re-present the gospel in a world that clearly does want a story not only to hear, but a story in which we all can participate? In essence, can the church be a place where people come in order to find purpose and meaning?

grieving during transition

Here is an edited copy of my July newsletter article on the power and importance of grieving during times of transition. I know that all of us face times of grieving; we just often don't allow ourselves the sacred space necessary to mourn in healthy ways. This is just my reflection drawn from personal experience.

This July marks the third anniversary of my father's death. Right after I was appointed to Woodland Park in 2004, I received the call that my father's health, which had been deteriorating for a number of years due to congestive heart failure, had finally reached a point where medical and surgical intervention would no longer help him. I flew home and took a couple of weeks to spend with my family as my father passed from this world to the next joining the communion of saints. This was by far the most difficult transition of my life. It brought an experience of loss for which I was unable to prepare myself. It was also a holy time for my family and for me. After years away from the small town that I consider my family home, I returned and walked the graveyards where my ancestors are buried, the farmland that my uncle farmed, and laughed and reclined in the heat of the Delta sun. It was both a homecoming and a home-losing. I lost the sense of home that was tied to my father 's life, but I was able to recall how home roots me in a rich past that goes back generation after generation. It was an important time.

Perhaps I am more nostalgic this year because I have bought my first house, something about which my dad would have provided counsel, caution, and care. I'm thrilled about this new transition in my life, but I'm a bit sad that my dad didn't see me make this big step into adulthood. My excitement is a bit tempered by a dull ache. Life is like that, though. We can't out-plan or out-maneuver it. It just comes at us, and we have to find our way through. And, if we would look up and look around, we might discover all kinds of lessons pouring down on us clamoring to be learned.

As I pack my belongings and prepare to leave the parsoange, I do so with some ambivalence. I'll miss living next door the church. The parsonage is a wonderful home (much larger than the one I bought), and Phinney Ridge is a warm and neighborly community. I already am mourning the loss of calling this my home even though I'll still work at the church and spend plenty of time in the neighborhood. I also am expectant about the joys and challenges of being a home owner. The little things like cleaning the crawl space, improving the yard, and planning for the eventuality of replacing the plumbing are adventures that lie ahead. I know that for all who are home owners these are routine chores. For this first time home owner they are marks of the labor that it takes to be a good steward of this little piece of God's world that is now mine to care for. I hope that I will be able to acknowledge how I miss my dad not being here for this part of my life and still maintain excitement for this new adventure. It's important to allow time to mourn losses, whether they be big or not so big, whether they are marked by life changing transitions or little ones.

Most transitions in life are not as dramatic as the death of a parent, spouse, or child, but all transitions bring with them loss and learning. Too often we don't allow ourselves the time and the emotional space to recognize and mourn the losses that come with change and transition. It is important to do so...just to let ourselves experience the fullness of life, including the hard and grieving times. As a people who follow the God of the outcast, we can be assured that we are not alone while we grieve, but that doesn't make the grieving go away - at least it doesn't for me.

in a quiet place

On Saturday I stood in a place where the Earth breathed. I lifted my chest and breathed with it. There was a deer - unafraid and apparently hungry. There were two eagles - just overhead and flying in circles. The Earth's breath sounded like the ocean, grossly like traffic, a rush of bending trees, circling the clearing where I stood...in the mist. On Saturday I walked a labyrinth - a time and a quarter. I got lost on a path where you can't get lost. I stopped, watched the eagles, turned in circles following them around and around and forgot where I came from. There in that place I was present, wholly and holy present. I took a breath, a deep breath. When I thought of what life is bringing - a rally and a prayer service to end the war, a rally and a march for the environment, a rally and a march with palms... I took another breath and said, "Right now I am here. Then I will be there." Duh. Obvious. But I tend to live in the future, two meetings down my calendar, two weeks ahead. On Saturday I was reminded that the hard work of Christianity begins with the simplicity of being with Christ, honoring the Creator, and breathing the Holy Spirit. On Saturday I was in a quiet place that readied me for the labor of being the body of Christ in the world. Thank God for Saturday. Why doesn't it come every week?

why walk labyrinths?

I was asked this questions recently: Why walk labyrinths? When I was asked this question, I could tell that the person talking with me was confused by more than why I find walking labyrinths meaningful; she also didn't really understand why people enter in to most spiritual exercises or disciplines.

Spiritual disciplines are the daily steps we take in our life's spiritual journey. What we do on Sunday in worship is a communal gathering that brings together people who spend time most days of their life attempting to draw closer to God. If we hope that all of our spiritual work will happen on Sunday, we will be a very disappointed group of people. We come from disparate lives and we are diverse people; the Sunday morning ritual will not/cannot reach all of our hearts each week. Personal spiritual practices/exercises/disciplines are where most of our spiritual journey takes places. Sunday morning is like a gas station where we get a little fuel for our spiritual journeys.

Our spiritual journeys really take place in the ways in which we lead our everyday lives. How do we make room for God? How attentive are we to the God who resides in our hearts and in our world? How much time to we spend with this Friend? How often to seek the Comforter? How much do we allow the gospel to stir our hearts with passion for justice, and how much does the gospel crack open our hearts with mercy? Each day - each breath - we are invited to live deeper inside of the Divine. And yet, despite God's persistent invitation to dwell there, most of us need to practice recognizing the Divine and responding to it. Spiritual practices are set aside activities that we do to remind us of the holiness of life. They invite us to be attuned to God. In them is where our relationship with the Holy One really takes place. We can make up our practices or use practices that have been tried and true, extensions of our ancient faith tradition.

I walk labyrinths because I need about fifteen to twenty minutes of quiet if I really want to shake loose my brain's attachment to its own noise. I can't slip into a deeply prayerful attitude very easily. As a product of MTV, multi-tasking, video games, and the cell phone generation, I am used to lots of noise coming at me. As someone who lives in a city, I am used to noise all around me. Walking a labyrinth takes time - usually about 45 minutes for me. About twenty of these minutes is getting my head to quiet itself and allowing my soul to open itself. Nothing magical is happening. I am simply allowing myself the time necessary to be fully present in time and space. When my mind revs up, I take a breath and say to myself, "I am here." Once my mind is quiet and my soul is open then I may think a scripture ("Be still and know that I am God") or ask a question ("Why have I been so restless? What am I being called to do? How can I find forgiveness? Where am I experiencing God?") and I just slowly walk. Once in the center of the labyrinth, I give thanks for the gift of my spiritual journey. Sometimes I lament things that I have been grieving but haven't given proper time to letting go. Then I begin the walk out, slowly emerging and still resting in God.

This is not necessarily the spiritual exercise/discipline/practice for everyone, but it works for me. I am excited to go to the Whidbey Institute tomorrow and to walk their labyrinth. It is in a field, marked by stones, surrounded by the incredible towering trees of the Pacific Northwest. It is quiet there with occasional voices along adjacent hiking trails. The air is pregnant with life. I can't wait to walk this labyrinth. Why I would want to do it seems quite obvious to me.

books to help with lent

Several people have asked me lately for book referrals for use during Lent. Here are a few resources for use in personal devotion.

The Story of the Cross: Stations of the Cross for Children by Mary Joslin (the best resource that I've seen for kids...it introduces some negative implications regarding the Jewish leadership of first century, but these are minimal and can be dealt with)

Lent and Easter Wisdom from Henri J.M. Nouwen

Show Me the Way - Henri J.M. Nouwen

The Lenten Labyrinth - Edward Hay

Walking a Sacred Path - Lauren Artress

In the Light of the Messanger - Joan Chittister

I am always looking for more resources, if you would like to share them with me!

ash wednesday

Ash Wednesday is finally here. I hope you had a great time yesterday living it up before the official beginning of Lent. Pancakes? Parties? Beads? Beer? However you celebrated, I hope it filled you up and got you ready for Lent. Today, we mark the start of Lent with Ash Wednesday. Christians everywhere will head to their churches for meditation, confession, and the imposition of ashes. This day marks us all as equals in God's eyes. It reminds us of our mortality and of the precious gift of life. It is one of my favorite days on the Christian calendar.

As a Protestant pastor, I hear people complain that Ash Wednesday feels foreign to them. And, it is true, that many Protestants have not observed this day with regularity. People who haven't grown up in the church at all tell me that Ash Wednesday doesn't make sense to them. What do we do with this slightly strange custom?

Ash Wednesday is a beautiful observance of the equality of humankind and a powerful call to us to discern God in our lives. But where do the ashes come from? Why do we use them? In 2 Samuel Tamar puts ashes on her head and tears her clothes as she grieves violence done to her, as she laments the harm that she has experienced (2 Sam 13:18-20). In the Book of Esther, Mordecai, deep in lament, puts on a sackcloth and pours ashes on his head (Esther 4:1-3). Ashes signify a terrible wrong, a deep mourning, a desire for change, the brutal truth of mortality. Ashes are the left-overs from a purifying fire. They are remnants. On Ash Wednesday, Christians place ashes on our heads as a sign of lament that life, our world, and our lives are not all that they could be. We put them on our foreheads as a desire to find right relationship with God. This desire sends us on our Lenten journey.

I also see in the imposition of ashes a levelling of the playing field. In the world, some of us are rich and some are poor. Some of us have privilege and some do not. When the ashes are placed on our heads, we are marked by God. The ashes show what the world often ignores - we are all equal in God's eyes. All of us have fallen short of perfection in love. And all of us are equal recipients of God's love and grace. Personally, the ashes remind me that I have only so many days to live fully in God's grace before I leave this world. As a mortal, I am the dust of the earth, and back to the earth I shall return some day. In the meantime, I am grateful that God extends mercy and love to me every day. Every day I have the opportunity to right my wrongs and to celebrate the goodness in creation and in me. No one is better than I am; I am better than no one else.

Ashes on our heads are not signs of piety gone wild! They are signs of our humility in the world. They are signs of God's love. They are signs of our mortality. They invite us into Lent and put us on a path of spiritual discernment during these forty days of wilderness.

If you have not been a participant in Ash Wednesday in the past, find a service and sit in meditation, hear the proclamation from Joel that the Day of the Lord is near. Hear his urgency as he cries, "Rend your hearts, not your clothing" (Joel 2:13). "Blow the trumpet... sanctify the fast; call a solemn assembly" (Joel 2:15). Joel doesn't invite us on this journey. Joel cries to us with urgency. Hearing his cry in worship or listening to Isaiah 58:1-12 is a powerful reflection on our lives and on God's claim on them.

Ash Wednesday brings us into the season of preparation for Easter. During these forty days, Christians are sent into the wilderness of discernment seeking God's presence in our lives and in our world. The call on Christians is to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. It's oh so much more than giving up chocolate.

Read here for more information on Ash Wednesday.
Go here to read the scriptures for Ash Wednesday.

ideas for lent

Transfiguration Sunday is one of my favorite Sundays because there is so much great stuff to do with kids! This day provides so many ways to get ready for Lent. As individuals, we are invited to "listen" to Christ speaking in our lives. As a community, the invitation is no less for us as a group. During church today we prepared for Lent by decorating "Alleluia" signs so that we can hide them next week and keep them hidden all throughout Lent. We also burned last years palms for use this week during our Ash Wednesday service. Transfiguration Sunday sends me right into thinking about Lent. So I've started making a list of things to do (or not do) during Lent as part of making way and creating silence for listening to God. I thought that I would share some ideas with you.

*I listen to sacred music. If you are into sacred music (however you define that), listen to some every day; I find this really helpful. I have made two playlists on my ipod to help me during Lent. One is primarily gospel music with Mahalia Jackson, Aretha Franklin, Clara Ward and the Clara Ward Singers, Ben Harper and the Blind Boys of Alabama, Brother Joe May, Corey Harris and Henry Butler, Alison Krauss, Gospel Dream, Bruce Springsteen, Etta James, Tapiola Choir, Sweet Honey and the Rock, and the Staple Singers. It's a great playslist. Because there's a lot of gospel on this list, don't be surprised if there are a few "Alleluias" floating around! The other playlist is sacred music composed by Eric Whitacre, including all of the music from his CD "Cloudburst."

You can buy the full gospel playlist from itunes.

*I am giving up turning on the TV during Lent. Now, I can't give up TV shows; don't get me wrong! I will watch DVDs and download from iTunes the programs that I really want to watch (I plan on cheating on Sundays in order to see the Soprano's. I'm telling myself it's my "little Easter" moment-I'm sure that's not the right idea, but...). While not a TV addict, I have been known to turn on the boob tube just to see what's on. Not this Lent. We'll see how that goes.

*I am saying grace before every meal. While many people do this all of the time, I don't, especially when I'm eating in public. I did this two years ago and found it a powerful exercise. I had to confront my reasons for my silence in public restaurants. I had to recognize the lack of gratitude and intentionality in my life. This led me to give up meat this past Lent...still don't eat it! If you have never given up meat during Lent, I recommend it if your health will bear it. When I gave up meat, I had time to reflect upon my participation in the meat industry in the US and in the industrialization of farming in general. I was reminded that all of creation is valuable and important to God. Giving up meat has been one of the most transformational journeys of my life.

*I recommend attending a weekly Taize service or other contemplative worship service. Most of our liturgies are filled with words. And while the Word is important in worship, contemplative worship invites us to listen for God. Even more than that, though, it invites us to rest in the Divine. For Protestants contemplative worship can feel a little strange, but I find my soul at home in the silence, in the chanting, and in the mystery of God.

*Go green. I know that my spiritual discipline this Lent will include an intentional act or practice to show reverence toward God as expressed in creation. I haven't determined what it will be yet. I already walk to work and have a hybrid car. I try to unplug appliances when not in use. I already recycle and compost. I'm not sure what my "green" practice will be, but I feel called to incorporate something significant into my daily habits. As we move toward the cross, I cannot help but think about the crucifixion of the earth that happens every day. I know that at the end of Holy Week we will find a resurrection. I do not know that we will find such a resurrection at the end of our actions toward the earth. I am open to suggestions on how to live more green in the world

I was so excited today about the beginning of Lent. I have just begun the process of discerning how I might prepare my spirit and my life to listen for God. Progressive Christians like me find Lent a wonderful jouney into the heart of God. If you have not had a habit of changing your life during this season, I invite you try something new, whether it be daily prayer, something for the environment, or thirty minutes of silence. Lent invites us to move from knowing about God to knowing God. I can't wait!

Update: A couple of people have sent ideas for Lent that they are doing or have done.
*Pray the Divine Hours - a fixed hour prayer practice. There are several online and book resources to help you. Explorefaith.com has a great online guide that can be set to your time zone!
*Make sure the TV stays off one night a week and that adults don't bring work home. Have a family night as part of your Lenten journey.
*Go walking every week. One person has suggested not using ipods as part of the experience of slowing down, being in the moment.

Keep the suggestions coming!

Update 2: The suggestions keep coming. Here are some ideas that have been shared with me.
*Keep thirty minutes to an hour of silence. Contemplative prayer is an invitation to quiet our minds and center our souls. It is more than not talking; it is silence. Contemplation invites us to rest in God's mystery.
*Practice the Examen. The Examen of Consciousness invites us to find the movment of the Holy Spirit as we reflect on our daily lives. This spiritual exercise takes about 10-15 minutes.
*Use labyrinths as part of your spiritual journey. In the Seattle area, Plymouth Congregational Church and Seattle First Baptist Church both have regular labyrinth walks. In the greater Seattle area, labyrinths can be found on Whidbey Island at Earth Sanctuary and the Whidbey Institute.
*Volunteer as part of your spiritual exercise. Lent invites into a time of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.
*Take Holy Communion regularly.

back to "normal"

We waited during Advent, sang during Christmas, partied for New Year, rejoiced at the Epiphany, and remembered on Baptism of the Lord. Now the holy days are over and we go back to "normal." In the church we have entered normal time or ordinary time. What is wonderful is that we are invited during "ordinary time" to focus on our spiritual growth as we follow the stories depicting the life and ministry of Jesus. This makes "ordinary time" extraordinary.

One of the gifts of being in a small church is that we have the opportunity to get to know one another very well and to embark upon our spiritual journeys together. The intimacy of a small church puts us in much closer relationship with one another than a large, programmatic church. Ordinary time offers those of us in small churches a special time to read and reflect upon the stories of our tradition and to question them together. We have a special gift - those of us in small churches - to dig into the depthes of our faith tradition and to engage one another along our spiritual journeys. There's not much "ordinary" about it at all.

Note for those not raised with a liturgical calendar: The colors of our worship space have changed from white to green. Around my neck, my stole will probably use multiple colors or depict children from around the world.