by Christine Sine
The death and remembrance of John McCain has taken centerstage for me this week as I suspect it has for many others not just here in the U.S but around the world. I have tremendous respect for this statesman and gentleman whose life and death have much to teach us in our current global climate of disruption, intolerance and at times vitriolic disturbance. He certainly wasn’t perfect, but he was humble enough to admit his mistakes and wise enough to learn from them. That was probably part of his appeal
Here are a few of the lessons I am still learning:
- Speak the truth at all times. One of my frustrations with living in the U.S. is that I find people often, out of a desire for you to like them, will say what they think you want to hear rather than the truth of what they really believe. John McCain, always seemed to speak the truth even when he knew it would alienate him from friends and colleagues.
- Listen to those with whom you disagree. I was amazed to hear that John McCain visited Barak Obama regularly during his presidency for a chat in the Oval Office. They didn’t always agree, or change each other’s minds but it sounds as though they listened with respect to what the other person said and were open to learning and changing based on what they heard.
- Treat people with different viewpoints with respect. To see a past Republican and Democratic president stand up and bear testimony to John McCain’s influence on their lives was very compelling. That he had friends on this calibre on both sides of the political divide was an incredible testimony to his integrity and respect for the equality of all people.
- Forgive and ask forgiveness. John McCain had a temper. He was often opinionated and strong minded, but he was willing to forgive and ask forgiveness when he recognized he was wrong or saw the need for reconciliation with those who had wronged him. That he could return to Vietnam after his incarceration and torture and develop friendships with people in that country is an incredible testimony to this.
- Maintain your passions until the end. John McCain’s passion for bipartisanship was evident until the very end. He orchestrated his own memorial, deliberately drawing together people from both sides of the political divide to bear testimony to his life. I suspect he hoped that these people would also be advocates for bipartisanship in the future.
Parker Palmer: On the Brink of Everything
As I think on the life of John McCain I am once more drawn back to the words of Parker Palmer, looking back on eight decades of life, in his latest book On the Brink of Everything:
For people like me, the notion that old age is a time to dial it down and play it safe is a cop-out. Those of us who are able should be tasing hell on behalf of whatever we care about. (25)
I think John McCain would say Amen to these words and I do too.
As I age I find myself becoming more passionate about injustice, inequality and abandonment of people at the margins. I am more passionate about moving towards my own freedom and wholeness, recognizing more than ever that it is out of embracing my own brokenness and seeing it as an integral part of my life that wholeness comes. At the same time, embracing how my brokenness has contributed to the brokenness of others and seeking forgiveness has enabled them to find that same freedom and wholeness.
Palmer goes on to say:
I no longer ask “What do I want to let go of, and what do I want to give myself to?”
The desire to “hang on” comes from a sense of scarcity and fear. The desire to “give myself” comes from a sense of abundance and generosity. That’s the kind of truth I want to wither into. (27)
What kind of truth do you want to “wither into”? What is the passion of your life, a passion that calls you beyond yourself to your concern for others? These are the questions I would like us all to reflect on as we remember the life and death of John McCain this week. May our lives burn with the same brightness as his did.
Gerald Manley Hopkins is one of my favorite poets and as summer draws to a close here in the Northern Hemisphere it is good to reflect on prayers like this as both a tribute to the season that has past and a preparation for the season that is to come.
HURRAHING IN HARVEST
SUMMER ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks arise
Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behaviour
Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier
Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies?
I walk, I lift up, I lift up heart, eyes,
Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;
And, éyes, heárt, what looks, what lips yet gave you a
Rapturous love’s greeting of realer, of rounder replies?
And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder
Majestic—as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!
These things, these things were here and but the beholder
Wanting; which two when they once meet,
The heart rears wings bold and bolder
And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.
–Gerard Manley Hopkins
What Is Your Response?
What have you most enjoyed about the summer season this year?
What are you most looking forward to in the coming season of autumn and harvest, of winter and waiting?
We need Wonder Farmers!
Brad Montague of Kid President Fame leads Wonder Workshops. He is one of my heroes and he is leading one of these workshops here in Nashville in September. This week he offered a chance to win a free ticket to this event if we posted a photograph of wonder on instagram and wrote something about wonder. Brad’s post got me thinking about WONDER…and this is what happened.
I’m a 7 on the Enneagram, the enthusiast . I tend to be full of WONDER, the expectant, excited, “let’s go on an adventure” kind of wonder. The “let’s blow bubbles, or “let’s create something out of clay,” just for fun kind of wonder. The “WOW what a glorious sunset kind of wonder!” The Mary Poppins what is in your carpet bag kind of wonder!
But not lately. Right now, I’m in an uncomfortable place. The kind of place that has me doing a lot of Wondering … wondering if what i do really matters to anyone. Wondering if it’s time to do something different. Wondering what i am supposed be doing that I’m not currently doing. Wondering what is next. Wondering about the craziness of our world and it’s lack of love and justice. Wondering how long i will be wondering. What i know about myself is that when i get in this place of wondering, I tend to panic. I tend to run ahead of God and I can totally lose sight of all the good things around me. I shut down. I stop being me. I lose hope for myself and others. The circle becomes dark rather than filled with multiple rays of color. And I really lose all sense of true wonder and all it’s glorious goodness. Which also means I miss out on the goodness and wonder of God.
I know, I know…
There are seasons for everything
There are times of drought
And times of abundance
There are times of great creativity and time when things need to lay fallow in order for new things to have better soil in which to grow.
But if I’m honest, I’m in real need of some Wonder Farmers in my life.
I’m in need of some Wonder Farmers who have the patience and hope to help me grow again. I need people like Brad Montague and Christine Sine and Artist Scott Erickson who inspire me and encourage me to keep seeking WONDER in the middle of the worry wondering!
Farmers have lots of patience. They have time to pause and time to wait.
They know about the seasons.
They watch for signs and pay attention to the weather. They aren’t afraid of the storms.
They plant seeds, pull out the weeds and make sure there is extra water when the rains don’t come.
These Wonder Farmers know that pruning hurts but the fruit that grows is better after the pruning!
Where are you today? Are you Worry Wondering? or Are you filled with Wonder?
And maybe we need WONDER Gardeners as well as WONDER Farmers! The Wonder Gardener takes time for each plant and they plan out what they want to grow. Gardeners expect that things will grow well but they don’t give up hope when they don’t. A Gardner takes time to water some plants more than others, and chooses certain flowers for their color and others for their scent. They know when to fertilize and when to replant. They grow extras. Gardeners are generous with their produce and they like giving away the fruits of their labor to share with neighbors and friends. And this reminds me that God not only is THE Wonder Farmer, God is THE Wonder Gardener too!
Are you a Wonder Farmer? or a Wonder Gardener? Could you become one? What would that look like in your world?
Who are your Wonder Farmers? Who are your WONDER GARDENERS? Who are the people in your life that bring you hope? The people who inspire you? The people who encourage you?
Take some time to think about this. Take some time to be grateful for them today. Maybe you could text them or email them or even send a card and let them know they have value and they matter!
Even Wonder Farmers and Wonder Gardeners need encouragement!
How are you doing? Are you Wondering or Filled with Wonder?
What needs to be planted in your Garden of Wonder?
What is already being planted? What seeds are already there?
What signs of wonder can you already identify? What do you notice?
What needs pruning? What Needs Cultivating? What needs more water?
What WONDER produce might need picking and sharing with others?
Take time to write down the things that are causing you to worry wondering rather than wonder in curiosity. Give those to Jesus!
Are you letting Jesus be your Wonder Gardener?
Go to a garden. Walk around in it. Dig in the dirt. Plant something. Talk to God about all the things you are wondering and worrying about.
Allow God to show you what is already growing. Allow Jesus to fill you up with wonder again as you notice the flowers, the vegetables, the plants. Ask Jesus to be your WONDER GARDENER and your WONDER FARMER as you watch the bees and bugs and butterflies. As you see the creativity of creation and the beauty even in a blade of grass!
And don’t be afraid of the season of wondering…know that God the Gardener and Wonder Farmer is at work in the wondering too!
By Lynne Baab —
1367 years ago, on August 31, 651, Bishop Aiden of Lidisfarne died, so today I am reflecting on his life. I have learned several significant things from reading about him in recent weeks.
Aiden, who was born in Ireland, was a monk on the island of Iona when he was asked by the king in 634 to come to Northern England in the role of bishop. The king was a Christian, and he gave Aiden the mandate of spreading the Gospel in Northern England. Aiden set up a base on the island of Lindisfarne, connected to the Northeast coast of England at low tide. He spent his first ten years as bishop wandering the countryside of Northern England, talking to people about the gospel. He set up numerous Christian communities.
He received money from various sources, and he used all of it to help the poor and to buy people, especially children, out of slavery. At one point the king gave him a horse to aid him in his travels and evangelism, but Aiden immediately gave it away. He felt that the best way to talk to people about Jesus was to walk at their level, not to be above them on a horse.
Aiden also established a community on Lindisfarne to train ministers. The training emphasized study of the Bible, prayer, fasting, and walking the countryside with Aiden to tell people about the Gospel. That community lasted long after his death.
Aiden is often called the apostle of England because of his evangelistic work that had such a lasting influence. A few lessons I’ve been pondering from Aiden’s life:
- Aiden seemed to have a seamless commitment to:
- evangelism
- prayer
- meditating on the bible
- spiritual practices like fasting
- care for the poor
- freeing slaves
I love his wholistic approach to physical well-being, spiritual practices, and social justice. I wonder which components of his approach are the most and least apparent in my life.
- I ponder what it looks like today to walk at the level of people in need. Obviously horses are seldom involved in this decision in our time, but we still need to think about how to build bridges across barriers of culture and socioeconomic level. I wonder what acts and attitudes of humility today would parallel that moment when Aiden gave away the horse.
- After ten years evangelizing the people of Northern England, Aiden retired to another island to pray and meditate for the rest of his life. Ten years is not a very long time to have made such an impact.
Thinking about Aiden’s ten years of ministry has been helpful to me. I am a very late bloomer, partly because I battled depression from age 27 to 43. After coming out of my depression, I was ordained as a Presbyterian minister at 45. I got my first book contract that same year. At 55, I began a ten-year teaching career. The past 21 years since my ordination have been full and rich, but still, I often feel a great sense of loss about those 16 depressed years. Twenty years of productive ministry don’t feel like enough.
I feel a sense of freedom when I ponder the fact that Aiden did what he was called to do for that significant decade, and then left it behind to engage in prayer and meditation on the Bible. I’m not comparing the significance of my ministry to Aiden’s, but I do find myself thinking that if ten years was enough for Aiden, surely I can accept that twice that could be enough for me.
I visited Lindisfarne – also called Holy Island – a few years ago. I was stunned by the number of visitors there on a weekday in September. There were several hundred cars in the parking lot, and people streamed across the island. What a joy this month to learn about the man who founded the monastery on Lindisfarne. May we soak up the model of faithful Christians who speak to us from across the ages.
A wonderful post by Lisa Scandrette as we continue our theme, Spirituality of Imperfection —
I stand carefully on the edge of the inlet, feet on plant lined, ocean covered rock. The water is shallow and beckons me in. Yet, I don’t know how to navigate these rocks and the fertile sea garden beneath me. My feet seemed glued in place. Mark holds out a snorkel and invites me again. I want to do this. How can I be at this beautiful place so far from home and pass it up? He says, “Just swim. It’s easier.”
Though this inlet is protected, the powerful sea and the creatures it holds make me feel nervous. “Here, sit by me,” he says. I squat on the rock, unable to submit to the mossy, plant covered surface. He gives me the snorkel and mask. I put it on and peer at my feet, only to see tiny fish swarming where before, though I thought the water was clear, I saw nothing. In seconds, my body doesn’t believe it can breathe and fear rises stronger than my desire to see.
I want to and must do this thing. I squeeze the salt water from my eyes, readjust, and try floating. For a moment, it works and I see a whole underwater world. Then, I taste salt water and panic for air, lifting my face from the water. Mark’s shoulder is nearby. I hold on. Something solid. My body calms. I regroup. Again, I adjust the mask and snorkel and put my face to the water. I repeat this routine a couple more times. I feel childlike and embarrassed by my fear, but I am unable to mask it. Always, Mark’s voice calls when my body panics. Always, his voice steadies me, and his voice tells me I’ll get used to it.
And then, finally, I float. I breathe. I kick my feet gently and see fish, big and little; I see the kelp, sea urchin, little stars and pinkish plants growing on the rocks. My body relaxes and I don’t need to find Mark.
When the time comes for me to hand over the snorkel and give Mark a turn at that thing he loves, I am grateful….grateful for him holding my fear gently and yet not letting it prevent him from reminding me that I can do this. I’m grateful for his firm, steady shoulder. I’m also proud of myself for plunging in in the midst of my fear, for persisting because I did not want to miss this opportunity. Despite everything, I stuck my face in the water, I breathed, I swam, and I saw the fish.
As our kids began college, I felt a similar wave of anxiety surprise me. Sometimes, in the morning I would wake with my heart pounding and my mind swirling, with the visceral feeling that something was wrong. My body felt like I needed to escape. It took time in the beginning of each day to remember that I am not alone, to calm my heartbeat and breathing, and to proceed with my day.
I would rehearse the truths that calmed me….that God was near, that God walked with both me and my kids, and that God would help me through the moments when I felt ungrounded and panicked. And when I felt fear and anxiety rising up, I stopped to rehearse again throughout the day. God did not dismiss my fear or scold me, but rather encouraged me that I could move through it and embrace the very moment that I was in. At the same time, God invited me to notice the beauty in the new and unfamiliar stage of life I was entering. I wanted to embrace this new stage of life with grace, but it didn’t come easily. It took practice, learning a new way to move and breathe into my day. It was gentleness and patience with the process that helped me through my fear to embracing the day. And it was the steady presence of God, inviting me and accompanying me.
I’ve since acclimated more to this new stage. It is more rare to wake up with my heart pounding. And when I do, I can remember that God is near, his shoulder is right there should I need to lift my head out of the rough waters, reorient, and take a deep breath before plunging back in.
As we continue this months theme, Spirituality of Imperfection, enjoy this beautiful poem by Talitha Fraser —
You take, shape, mold me
You hold the raw material tenderly
and say ‘..this has potential’
I am a child.
I am underfoot and in the way.
I cannot stay within the lines
but I am so eager to help
You cannot resist me.
I am kind of cute and You
delight in my delight.
Surely this will be slower, more work,
not turn out quite as You intended
Surely this will be perfect.
By John Birch —
I don’t know about you, but August can be a hectic month in our household. So far we’ve had a week camping in a field at a Christian conference, and a week being invaded by family. There’s another camp coming up later in the month, at a folk festival, and in-between there’s the usual household and gardening tasks to catch up with, alongside work, preaching and other commitments.
It’s so easy to put God to one side in such situations, go into survival mode just to get through busy times like this. And yet, deep down, I know it’s so important to find those quiet moments within each day (and there are always one or two!) and just be still, and listen. For in those moments God is there, his peace will flow, his love refresh, and my day will be blessed.
May there be
within this day
quiet moments,
when I can rest
in your presence,
sit for a while
at your feet,
be still, and
simply listen.
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