by Christine Sine
This process of discernment can be a humbling but joy-filled one, I am discovering. This week it has taken an interesting turn as I find myself not reaching to touch the greatness of a cosmic God but reaching inward to find the intimacy of a divine friend.
Two quotes have stood out for me.
From John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara, a book that I didn’t even think of as part of my discernment process, but that I am currently re-reading together with a close friend.
Jesus is the secret Anam Cara of every individual. In friendship with him we enter the tender beauty of the Trinity. In the embrace of this eternal friendship we dare to be free. (O’Donohue, 15)
A couple of days ago, I felt that God said to me, “I don’t just want you to know me as your holy and glorious God but as your soul friend – as the One who is there to share your deepest desires and greatest struggles with.”
Wow talk about humbling and awe inspiring all at the same time. I grew up with the idea that “Jesus is your friend” but I must confess my understanding of this was of more of a casual acquaintance than of a close and intimate friend. To sit in the presence of the ultimate soul friend, share my desires and struggles and listening attentively expecting God to answer was a totally new and refreshing concept for me.
Next from Henri Nouwen’s Discernment:
“When I have no eyes for the small signs of God’s presence – the smile of a baby, the carefree play of children, the words of encouragement and gestures of love offered by friends – I remain spiritually bind. (Nouwen, 114)
Though I have gone through times of discernment before and have usually taken two or three days away from everything to make that possible, I have never before had an extended at home season like COVID has provided that enables me to slow down my inner being to a place of inner quiet and unhurried noticing like this.
Out of these reflections has come a prayer that I suspect will see me through a great deal of my discernment time. I begin each of my sessions by reading it as a way to focus. I pause between each verse and savour the rich and delightful sense of God drawing closer as I do so.
Precious God, beloved of my soul
I burrow into the wonder of your love.
I feel you in me, round me, on left and on right.
I look for your glory and magnificence,
You show me the small, the hidden and the vulnerable.
I hope to see your greatness,
Instead you draw me into the precious intimacy of divine friendship.
I expect clear direction,
You instead reveal one step at a time.
Not a goal but a journey,
Not a destination but a daily listening.
I rest in your quiet closeness,
Soul friend, heart mate, eternal companion,
Guide me on the true path,
Of love and compassion and generosity.
(Christine Sine August 2020)
So my questions for this week:
What helps me slow down so that I can notice the small, the hidden and the vulnerable aspects of who God is?
What practices sharpen my awareness of divine friendship?
Once again I am posting the beautiful contemplative service from St Andrews Episcopal church in Seattle. Enjoy.
A contemplative service for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost. Carrie Grace Littauer, Prayer Leader, with music by Kester Limner and Andy Myers.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-710-756
by Rachel Taber-Hamilton, Shackan First Nation
On August 9th we celebrate International Day of the World’s Indigenous People. There are an estimated 476 million indigenous peoples in the world living across 90 countries. They make up less than 5 percent of the world’s population, but account for 15 percent of the poorest people in the world. Indigenous peoples across the globe share common problems related to the protection of their rights as distinct peoples due to the impact of historical and modern forces of colonialism.
The efforts to draft a United Nations statement addressing the protection of indigenous peoples worldwide date back over several decades. On August 9, 1982, the United Nations Working Group on Indigenous Populations of the Sub-Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Human Rights met for the first time. Twelve years later, in 1994, the United Nations General Assembly decided that the International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples would be observed annually on August 9th.
After years of dialogue and study, the United Nations Human Rights Council adopted the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples on June 29, 2006. After further debates, politicized maneuvering, and negotiations the Declaration was adopted through majority vote on September 13, 2007, with 144 nation states in favor and 4 votes against (Australia, Canada, New Zealand and the United States). The nay votes were cast by nation states in which Western colonialism had historically deprived indigenous peoples of their rights, lands, and resources as conquered peoples. Recognizing indigenous rights was deemed not to be in the best interest of the dominant culture powers in those nation states.
Nine years have passed since the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples was adopted by the General Assembly. Since then, the four countries voting against have reversed their position and now support the Declaration. Today, the Declaration is the most comprehensive international instrument on the rights of indigenous peoples. It establishes a universal framework of minimum standards for the survival, dignity and well-being of the indigenous peoples of the world and it elaborates on existing human rights standards and fundamental freedoms as they apply to the specific situation of indigenous peoples.
Since it was instituted in 1982, the International Day of the World’s Indigenous People has focused on a specific theme for education. This year’s theme is COVID-19 and indigenous peoples’ resilience. The UN hopes to recognize the innovative ways indigenous peoples continue demonstrating resilience and strength in the face of the pandemic while confronting grave threats to their survival.
Indigenous peoples around the globe tend to be at higher risk from emerging infectious diseases compared to other populations. Covid-19 is no exception. In the US, one in every 2,300 indigenous Americans has died, compared to one in 3,600 white Americans – making them the second most at-risk ethnic category in the US after black Americans.
As of August 5, 2020, the Navajo Nation has experienced a total of 9,156 cases of COVID-19, with the total number of deaths at 463. Currently, the Navajo Nation has the highest infection rate in the country, greater than that of the worst-hit state, New York; it is even greater than that of Wuhan at the height of the outbreak in China. Meanwhile, Native people make up only around one-tenth of New Mexico’s population but more than 55 percent of its coronavirus cases; in Wyoming, AI/AN people are less than 3 percent of the state population but make up more than one-third of its cases. This crisis—and the underlying conditions tribal communities face—are the result of centuries of colonial violence and neglect that continue to this day.
In the face of poverty, lack of basic infrastructure (such as running water and electricity) and limited access to health services, the Navajo Nation is the very emblem of cultural and human reliance. Every day ministerial colleagues and peers of mine who are Navajo tribal members are helping to distribute much needed aid to the rural homesteads of the reservation. Organized tribal volunteers deliver food, clean water, sanitizing and cleaning supplies, PPE, and educational materials for children. Even as elders and young adults on the reservation succumb to COVID-19, Navajo clergy are helping their people both grieve for what has been lost with every elder and find hope in survival for the grandchildren they leave behind.
Community and church gardens have become sources of lessons in traditional agricultural practices and food ways. Social distancing around a cooking fire yet provides opportunities for sharing traditional and family stories, along with vital lessons for continued emotional and physical survival of the Navajo people.
This day of recognition – The Worlds Indigenous Peoples Day – reminds both Native and non-Native people alike that indigenous peoples are very much alive, no matter what struggles they face. With dignity and faith, they meet both life and death. Under the principles of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples under Article 7 we are reminded that, “Indigenous individuals have the rights to life, physical and mental integrity, liberty and security of person.” All of us must take our seat in the circle of humanity in which the Navajo and other indigenous peoples have much to teach our nation about courage, compassion, and commitment to community and family.
On this day, we are forcibly reminded that the fate of our nation will be determined on whether we are prepared to gather around the camp fire together or let that fire burn out, leaving all of us in the darkened cold. So, let us seek the hope that is in the fire, even as the Navajo do. Let us gather to feed one another and share stories of how to make the world that all our ancestors would wish for their grandchildren – a world where all can thrive.
Photo above provided by Rachel Taber-Hamilton, used with permission.
By Lilly Lewin
In our journey through Matthew, we’ve moved through lots of parables in the last few weeks and now we are moving into ministry miracles with Jesus. With all the events of this week, I know that I need reminding that miracles still happen. I need to glimpse the abundance of Jesus and be reminded of his great compassion for each of us.
Matthew 14 is a BIG CHAPTER. It begins with the story of the beheading of John the Baptist and then Jesus being told about the loss of his cousin. Jesus attempts to get away by himself to process his loss and grieve alone, but instead he is greeted by a very large crowd who have followed him out to his place of retreat!
Jesus Mafa
READ Matthew 14: 12-36 (NIV) and other translations
12 John’s disciples came and took his body and buried it. Then they went and told Jesus. 13 When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. 14 When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.15 As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”16 Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”17 “We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered. “Bring them here to me,” he said. 19 And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. 20 They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. 21 The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.
22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. 23 After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, 24 and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.
25 Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.27 But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”28 “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”29 “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”32 And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. 33 Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
34 When they had crossed over, they landed at Gennesaret. 35 And when the men of that place recognized Jesus, they sent word to all the surrounding country. People brought all their sick to him 36 and begged him to let the sick just touch the edge of his cloak, and all who touched it were healed.
Sea of Galilee
I don’t know about you, but when I am trying to get away and get some time to think or process, I do not appreciate getting bombarded by a lot of people. I want my space. Yet instead of being annoyed with the crowds who find him, Jesus has compassion on them and heals them.
Who in your life is frustrating you at the moment? Who is invading your space or interrupting your peace?
Who could use some compassion rather than condemnation or criticism from you? Talk to Jesus about this person or persons. Ask Jesus to help you show them compassion. Pray for this person or persons.
What do you have that you need Jesus to multiply for you right now like he did the fish and bread?
What is the thing, emotion or physical item, or need that you have right now that you’d like Jesus to multiply?
Often we don’t believe that we have enough “fish or bread” to feed people or enough “fish or bread” to do the task Jesus has asked us to do… The disciples didn’t think what they had was enough for everyone… they probably didn’t feel like what they had was even enough for themselves. Yet in the hands of Jesus, their loaves and fish were more than enough!
Where are you feeling NOT ENOUGH today? Where are you experiencing not enough fish or bread to do the task at hand or to provide for all the people in need?
TALK TO JESUS ABOUT THIS. Let Jesus have the fish and bread that you have and multiply it for you!
Jesus provides what the people need… healing, food, trust, miracles…etc. What do you need right now?
Pray for people in your life who need healing, food, trust, miracles… maybe you need them too! Talk to Jesus about this.
Jesus even provides LEFTOVERS! There was MORE THAN ENOUGH! I love that there are twelve baskets of leftovers after they eat! How have you experienced the “more than enough of Jesus” lately?
Look back in your life and remember the times you’ve experienced the abundance of LEFTOVERS, the MORE THAN ENOUGH of Jesus and take time to thank him for this!
WALKING ON WATER!
What are the heavy seas and big waves, or the storm in your life that you need Jesus to calm? TALK TO HIM about this. Ask Jesus to calm them.
Be brave and don’t be afraid. I am here! (JESUS SAYS “I AM” like God in Exodus with Moses!) How can you receive this? How do you need to receive and believe this right now?
“Come and join me,” Jesus replied. Jesus tells Peter and you and I to GO FOR IT!…. What is Jesus inviting you to get out of the boat and join him to do? What is Jesus asking you to JOIN HIM in during this season of covid19?
What is Jesus inviting you to GO FOR? ASK HIM.
Why is it that the disciples worship Jesus after the walking on the water and not after the multiplying of the meal? What things prevent you from noticing the miracles? Which miracle do you need right now?
Father Richard Rohr says, “whenever Jesus sends disciples to cross the lake, Jesus is about to do something or say something preparing them to cross over to a new level of faith….helping them cross over a boundary of belief…. crossing boundaries of understanding…”
What boundaries is Jesus inviting you to cross in this season of your life? What NEW THING is Jesus asking you to learn or grow into as you cross the lake?
Bread and Fish Brighton UK
TAKE ACTION:
How can you provide food for someone this week? Bake something, make something for a neighbor or friend, give money or make a donation to a food bank or food project. How is Jesus inviting you to share loaves and fish this week?
LISTEN:
Opening Image is “Loaves and Fishes” by John August Swanson 2003. Take time to pray with this painting.
©lillylewin and freerangeworship.com
by Christine Sine
The following prayer is adapted from one that I wrote following Hurricane Harvey a couple of years ago. As we all grieve the lives lost and those who are injured in Lebanon, we must join together in lifting our voices to God in solidarity with those who are vulnerable and afraid in the midst of this disaster.
Lord, you are always with us,
Our shelter in the midst of every tragedy.
In the quiet and the storm you surround us,
Your love stays closer than a friend.
In this time of devastations and disaster be with all who are vulnerable.
Hold them close as they grieve for loved ones lost and fear for those still buried.
Place your arms around each family in their shock and grief.
Guide those that respond and keep them safe.
Be with rescuers and firemen and emergency crews,
Be with medical workers,
Be with all who reach out to neighbours with your love and compassion.
Comfort and protect them in the midst of danger and of strife.
Provide food, and shelter and care for all who have been displaced.
God of all life, you are always close to the brokenhearted,
May all find comfort in the embrace of your wings.
Here on Godspace, we absolutely love podcasts! We enjoy listening to them, promoting them, and even being part of them!
Serenity and Health – Dr. Donna Chacko
Dr. Donna Chacko is a fellow writer for Godspace and founder of Serenity and Health. You may remember the recent post, Finding Serenity and Health During a Pandemic, which includes details about her free stress reduction program during this pandemic.
Click here to see the full podcast with details.
Earthkeepers: A Circlewood Podcast
“The Earthkeepers Podcast promotes global connection among ecological-minded people who believe that earth care is an integral part of spiritual life. Through conversations about topics like ecology, climate change, gardening, farming, social enterprise, theology, environmental justice, outdoor recreation, conservation and community development, we aim to inspire a movement of ordinary earthkeepers who will help heal the world.”
Click here to see the full list of podcasts with details.
Medium Talk Podcast – Holland Christian Schools
I just did an interview with Bryant Russ for Holland Christian Schools on awe and wonder. I was particularly impressed with this other episode he told me about on outdoor school. Enjoy!
“Take a peak inside–or should it be outside?–the HC Forest School program. Listen to students, parents, teachers and administrators describe the vision behind Forest School and the transformation we’re seeing in these kids!”
Click here to listen to and see full details of the podcast.
I have lived with uncertainty for so long. I never know how much energy the next day will bring, whether I will be able to speak, to move out of bed, to get dressed, to self-propel my wheelchair, to feed myself, to listen to a friend, to prioritise playing with paint and print and photos.
I am better than I used to be at accepting the temporary limits my body imposes, and at adapting to the limits that might shift at any moment of the day, imposing rest, or demanding a complete cessation of everything in the collapse which a seizure brings. But sadly, I must confess I am not a patient person. My inner perfectionist stamps her foot, my inner critic screams venomously about my inadequacies, my inner taskmistress ominously cracks her whip. My neglected artist child gears up for a full-on tantrum. And yet, I know that the counterbalance to this internal self-punishment is to look out – up or down, it doesn’t matter – and flex my rejoicing muscles. For there is always something to be grateful for in my present, something praiseworthy will always be right in front of me. God is always in my details. Presence is always assured, and this moment of connection with thanksgiving is always certain and concrete.
The most accessible way for me to reconnect with the Giver is through my contemplative photography practice acts of daily seeing. It reminds me where I am rooted, not just through its subject matter, which often focuses on what I see as the glory in the things others overlook, but also through my breath, through my technical precision or experimentation, through my attentiveness to waiting to receive the moment to press the shutter, through a deliberate openness to Thy Will be done in this moment.
The images I receive in this way often reflect my interest in obscurity, in layers, in essences, in what is unclear, in Wabi Sabi, in ‘through a glass darkly’. Out of my contemplation of these themes, many of the photos I offer up as contemplative tools for others use distinct distortion techniques (like using macro or zoom lenses, distancing or foreshortening, removing context, and using strange angles). I suspect I do this in order to make the everyday unrecognisable, in order to re-appreciate the beauty and the mystery of what is before me, in order to encourage the looker to take time to see beyond the surface. I’m not trying to hide the Godhead in mystique, but for each image to create a pause long enough to show off the God who is so much more than I ordinarily perceive. I know my images often frustrate those whose first instinct is to ask ‘what is it?’ Yet I have found that when I ask this question, my need for such certainty, clarity, control and order normally ensures I miss the point of so much that resides in God’s Kingdom.
Still, I don’t underestimate the acute discomfort that can come when I look at something and I don’t know what I’m supposed to think. I can feel my whole body tense and revolt in response to the brain’s panic when it can’t recognise, name, catalogue, or signify what is in front of me. I feel stupid. I feel left out of the ‘inner circle’, the cognoscenti, those who must surely understand everything. I can experience a deeply painful heart-longing for direction from the artist: what was ‘intended’ when they made this image? Did they think of how it might feel to not ‘get it’? Very quickly, such a lack of understanding or clarity can bring me to a lonely place, making me feel utterly isolated in my confusion.
So often I find cry out to the Great Artist for the same kind of direction. I feel I am so poor at discernment, and even though I try to practice listening more intently through the making of a weekly sabbath lectio collage, hearing a single ‘word’ with clarity from amongst my complicated brain chatter is more than challenging. And even if I am able to distill out a word or phrase to mull over visually as well as prayerfully during the week that follows, I frequently find myself journalling to ask God, ‘Which direction should I face? Which of the hundred ideas I have before breakfast should I follow? And what about the hundred ideas I had yesterday? And the day before that?…’
As a result, I can feel rudderless. I can feel abandoned. Thus I have to remember again: I am powerless. What God is inviting me to do is to let go of my driven attempts at forcing the pace from my own willpower: God is calling for me to let go deliberately and completely. In letting go, I notice that the zeitgeist of anxiety around COVID-19 has crept under my bedroom door and is infecting me, reigniting those depressive tendencies in me that wait to rear up at the slightest provocation. And yet: I am shielded and privileged and white and prosperous (in practically every relative sense); I am able to read and write; and I own technology which allows me to access this virtual space here at Godspace, which means access to a gifted, loving, generous community who provide me with a safe place to speak what is on my heart. As I let go of all this, I can hear my heart whisper: What of all those who are voiceless in any or all of these ways? How do I help them to be heard?
Perhaps resisting asking ‘what is it?’ of an image seems a strange place to start living out the values of the Beatitudes, but something in me is definite that practicing glimpsing and acknowledging the presence of the Holy in the midst of an unrecognisable mess might just provide the smallest of openings for the Spirit to slide in – and then, God knows, anything might happen. And so if I listen to that urge, rather than following the desire to impose what I define as order and ‘the answer’, I might get close to obeying the commission I sense God is asking me to fulfill: making an epiphany of the ordinary – showing the messy, dirty, unlovely ordinary as belovedly sacred again – wherever and whenever I look.
We look with uncertainty
beyond the old choices for
clear-cut answers
to a softer, more permeable aliveness
which is every moment
at the brink of death;
for something new is being born in us
if we but let it.
We stand at a new doorway,
awaiting that which comes…
daring to be human creatures,
vulnerable to the beauty of existence.
Learning to love.
‘we look with uncertainty’
All images by Kate Kennington Steer, used with permission.
As an Amazon Associate, I receive a small amount for purchases made through appropriate links.
Thank you for supporting Godspace in this way.
When referencing or quoting Godspace Light, please be sure to include the Author (Christine Sine unless otherwise noted), the Title of the article or resource, the Source link where appropriate, and ©Godspacelight.com. Thank you!