Jonathan Myers blessing our dog Bonnie
This last Sunday we held a pet blessing at our church. We probably had at least 30 dogs and a dozen cats in the church – all amazingly well behaved. This has become a popular practices for St Francis Day. Even our local zoo does a regular animal blessing. People who never come to church at other times, love to bring their pets in to be blessed. And we were right there in the midst with our Bonnie.
Keeping pets is increasingly understood to be good for us. Did you know that having a cat around the house can cut the risk of heart attack by almost 50% and that dog owners tend to have lower blood pressure and cholesterol? Those of us who are animal lovers have known for a long time that animals buffer us against stress and anxiety. All this from a recent ABC News article . Interestingly kids who have pets when they are young are less likely to get allergies too.
Animals are not just pets however, they are increasingly used for therapy and service. They act as eyes for the blond, ears for the deaf, and in the case of diabetics, glucose monitors. They are also being used as therapy in hospitals and hospice care centres. Pets as Therapy is one organization that provides this service. They are not just good for preventing strokes and heart attacks but often assist in people’s recovery after these illnesses. They even help kids learn to read and are increasingly appearing in classrooms around the world.
Several people at St Albans Episcopal where we used to attend, trained service dogs. I particularly loved to see them wagging their tails up at the altar rail for communion. Once a year we did a special dog blessing before the dogs are sent out to their service assignments. I think this is a wonderful ministry – another one of God’s hidden mustard seeds. Imagine how many people a ministry like this must bless.
So my recommendation for the day – go out andtalk to the animals, bless them as they pass by, pet your dog or cat, – and if you don’t have one of your own borrow your neighbour’s.
I am experiencing a static year, sitting or lying in bed for most of the time, so thinking of myself as moving on any spiritual trajectory has seemed an accompanying impossibility; but in spite of periods of depression and feeling ‘unmoored’ even from my most basic self, there is a small voice within me that is certain that journeying towards, not away from, God is exactly what I am doing. Travelling the pilgrim paths and the ancient ways of the wise has increasingly become my intention as I have realised that illness, in its ebbs and flows of recovery, rest, and crisis, can be a form of spiritual direction in and of itself.
Feather by Kate Kennington Steer
As I have written about here before, contemplative photography has freed me to explore my creativity and my spirituality collaboratively, and this year has proved to me that all one needs is a mobile phone camera to practice this, since I have been too weak most months to lift my DSLR. An iPhone in my case has become a tool for receiving images, even on a day when the brain fog clears for only five minutes or where migraines ease enough for me to take off my sunglasses or open the curtains only for a short while. I’ve learnt that I don’t even have to be able to see straight for God to present to me frankly miraculous moments of Presence, proving to me (and oh how I need to be reminded very, very often) that Grace is never far from me, and often in the most surprising forms.
Last October I made it my daily intention to be open to what this mobile camera might bring me, and by the time you read this I hope to be well enough to be underway with a similar ‘photo pilgrimage’ this year. For I found by creating an on screen journal (I used the bamboo app, with a stylus for writing around and over each day’s offerings) I could pull out weekly themes, clusters of subjects I was drawn to, and how closely these might mirror emotional mood, or physical wellness, or (intentionally or otherwise) echo motifs from my spiritual study and prayer time. I want to be able to do the same process a year on, and see what, if anything, of the journey has changed; and what remain the touchstones of visual manifestation of the faith-sifting I keep returning to; and how I might be finding new expressions for them.
This is one form of ‘Visio Divina’, a process introduced to me so brilliantly by Christine Valters Paintner (read her book Eyes of the Heart, or go to abbeyofthearts.com). I find it hard to look at my own creative output with anything approaching the eyes of God so this practice is an ongoing lesson I shall never reach the end of. Yet I have also been encouraged by Patricia Turner on her blog A Photographic Sage to practice visual spiritual discernment through the process of selecting an ‘icon of experience’ (of a day, a holiday, an emotion, whatever) which sums up the essences of that place, time, emotion etc. Given how many ‘snaps’ the digital age now enables us to take, putting a batch through this winnowing process can be both excruciating and enlightening.
Feather 2 KKS
This magpie feather is static and fallen (my mum brought it in from her garden and placed it on my windowsill because she thought I would enjoy the colours). It should be lifting a bird, yet its very stillness has the capacity to point me towards my central being, my true self, my Creator. Contemplative Photography is the sensual counterpoint to the life of my mind, an avenue out of my emotional whirlpools, a brake on the busy importance of the ego and my ‘brilliant’ ideas that must be just what the world has been waiting for.
This type of focus on the material and visible can only lead me to enter into the invisible and immaterial.
So once more, by Grace, I come to an understanding that ‘direction’ is all about embracing more of the Kingdom’s paradoxes:
In being directionless, we might find pointers to the Presence who lives beyond our boundaries of times and plans.
In stillness there emerges a way of travelling to transformation.
It is only in the letting go of our will to find that we discover the thread of way to follow.
Our desired end, becoming one with our Creator, is our beginning…
feather 3 KKS
One thing the camera teaches us —
something we all too often,
and all too quickly, forget —
is the power of perspective:
the notion that what
we’re capable of seeing
depends so absolutely
on where we stand,
or when and where
and before what
we find ourselves willing
to kneel.
Diane Walker
Kate Kennington Steer is a writer and photographer with a deep abiding passion for contemplative photography and spirituality. She writes about these things on her shot at ten paces blog (http://shotattenpaces.blogspot.co.uk).
midwife [noun, mid-wahyv]: A person or thing who aids in producing something new.
For most of us, when we think of midwife, we think of birth. I delivered 4 of my 5 children with a midwife, and there’s no question that they were the exact right companions for me for that difficult journey. If I compare my midwife births to the one with a doctor (when I had my only daughter), there is no comparison in terms of the love, care, nurturing, and support that I received. My midwives were gentle, strong, challenging, present, wise, compassionate, and patient in a time of extreme pain.
When our faith shifts and we lose so much of what we once held dear, it hurts. When we move out of the comforts of certainty, conformity, and affiliation toward a faith filled with more freedom, mystery, and diversity, we don’t get there quickly. It’s often a very difficult process where we not only lose beliefs but also often structures and relationships, even sometimes our identity.
We need patient guides, people to hold our hands and remind us to breathe, people who recognize and respect the process, and who don’t try to rush it or make us numb it out.
We need spiritual midwives who will help us give birth to something new and help us find life on the other side of a transforming faith.
When it comes to changing beliefs about God, life, the church, the typical western-doctor-medical model often fits with so many of our Christian experiences. The “you just need to take this or stop doing that or believe this” mantra is the response that many of us get when we start to question, doubt, shift, or end up in a weird fork in the road in our spiritual journey. Often, many of us gut it out alone, feeling lost and tired with no one there who understands.
Midwives understand the process of giving birth.
So many people I know are shifting in their faith, longing to give birth to something new but not knowing what’s going to emerge. There can be an incredible amount of fear, confusion, loneliness, and pain in this season of a changing faith. While no one can do the work for us it is so much better when there are others along the way who can help guide, nurture, and remind us that it won’t be like this forever and that something beautiful & wonderful can, indeed, emerge from the pain.
Just like I am passionate about the need for more advocates in the body of Christ to help cultivate justice and mercy on behalf of others, I also think we need more spiritual midwives, companions for the journey of a changing faith.
We need spiritual midwives–patient, wise and safe men and women–who:
- Remind us not to rush the spiritual transformation process.I have seen so many people who want to move quickly through the pain of a shifting faith or a hard story and get to a new place too quick. It just doesn’t seem to work that way for most people; faith shifting can be long, agonizing, tiring. Midwives remind us we can’t hurry the process.
- Let us express our pain rather than numb it.They will listen to our anger, fear, venting, hurt, and angst toward church or/and God and not expect it to go away right away. They understand that raw honesty is helpful instead of pretending or numbing out and losing touch with what’s really going on inside. They trust at some point we’ll stop yelling and crying and aren’t afraid of our big feelings.
- Hold our hand and remind us to breathe. I have some amazing friends in my life who really have stuck with me through all the dark valleys of my journey. They won’t let go of me. They return my phone calls and hold me when I cry. They gently point me toward what’s good, beautiful, and hopeful without telling me what I should do related to faith and how I should do it.
- Help us see the beauty in the process even when we aren’t looking so beautiful. Giving birth, while lovely in so many ways, also can be fairly rough, hard, messy, and ugly. It doesn’t seem like it’s us at our best, although maybe it actually really is. When it comes to the spiritual things being born and re-born in us, we need midwives who help celebrate the beauty of the moment, of what’s developing, of what God is doing in us in the midst regardless of what it might look like at the moment.
I firmly believe that when Jesus tells Nicodemus in John 3 that we must be “born again” that there’s much more to it than just eternal salvation. I think our faith will need to be reborn again and again over the course of our journey. As I reflect on the need for spiritual midwives, I am reminded again how wild and beautiful and scary “giving birth” to a renewed faith really is. There’s no question it is full of paradoxes: pain and joy, hope and fear, pretty and ugly.
It’s why we need companions and guides along the way who will help us see the beauty, hope, life, light, and possibility that can emerge if we bravely stay with it and trust that something new, something good is coming even when we can’t believe it.
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Today’s post is written by Kathy Escobar as part of the series Finding Faith Through the Faith Shifting Process. which was in fact inspired by posts on Kathy Escobar’s blog and her series on Spiritual Midwives.
Kathy co-pastors The Refuge a mission center and Christian community in North Denver dedicated to helping hurting and hungry people find faith, hope and dignity alongside each other. An advocate, spiritual director, and speaker, Kathy has written several books, including Down We Go: Living into the Wild Ways of Jesus and the newest, Faith Shift: How to Find Your Way Forward When Everything You Believe is Coming Apart (releasing October 21st). She blogs regularly about life and faith at www.kathyescobar.com.
Over the last week I have been reflecting a lot on what it means to pause and rest in the presence of God. It is not a pause for refreshment because we are exhausted. The pause God calls us to is one of enjoyment and satisfaction, a rest in which we hear God’s affirmation and pleasure in us, a pause in which we hear God’s voice say: “well done good and faithful servant.” Laying aside our work and busyness to pause, focus on the presence of the living God is a wonderful way to centre our lives on the restfulness of mind and spirit that God intends for us. Brueggemann’s call to embrace a different way of life from the rat race of production and consumption is a compelling one.
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Time to Reflect:
Find a quiet place to sit and focus on God. Make yourself comfortable. Take a few deep breaths in and out until you feel relaxed in the presence of God. Let go the anxieties and pressures of your week. Sit quietly, listening to the music. Relax. Say the prayer above slowly, savouring each line as you do so.
Imagine yourself relaxing in the circle of God’s love. Let it embrace you like the arms of a mother. Listen for God’s voice affirming your accomplishments and see his face smiling because of his love for you.
What is your response: What makes it difficult for you to sit relaxed in this way? What are the anxieties and pressures that surface as you try to focus on God? Does guilt or condemnation intrude and keep God at a distance? Write down your struggles. Perhaps you would like to burn the piece of paper and then imagine yourself climbing into God’s embracing presence. Or you may like to sit with your hands in your lap, palms facing upwards, imagining your anxieties and guilt being lifted from you and taken out of your hands.
Now read through the prayer again, once more savouring each line.
How does it make you feel to sit embraced by the love of God? Do you feel the soothing breath of God blowing over you? Do you feel the warmth of God’s comforting arms surrounding you? Listen for the voice of God affirming who you are and what you have done.
What is your response: Do you sense God’s pleasure and love flowing over you? Write down what you feel God is saying to you.
Now read through the prayer a third time. God is not only wanting to draw us as individuals into a place of rest and peace, God wants to draw all human kind into that rest. Remind yourself of all you have done over the last few weeks to enable others to enter God’s rest. Have you listened to the anxieties and fears of a friend? Have you reached out to those who are suffering from poverty, disease, homelessness?
What is your response: Where do you sense God’s pleasure for the ways you have reached out as a neighbour to friend or stranger? In what ways is God nudging you to be more neighbourly in the future? Write these down.
To end your time of contemplation, sit quietly again sensing that warm embrace of God, breathing in and out deeply and relaxing in the presence of God. Say the prayer one more time and finish with a prayer of gratitude and thankfulness.
This is a great introduction to St Francis of Assisi whose life we celebrate today
And don’t forget to check out the other resources in this post:
St Francis & Blessing the Animals – Prayers, Litanies and Other Resources.
It is the end of the harvest season, at least for me here in my Seattle garden. This weekend we will probably pick the last of our green tomatoes and our winter squash. We have eaten tomato salads or BLTs almost daily, dried, canned and frozen and shared liberally with friends and neighbours. This afternoon I will make my last apple cake for the season and start to ready the garden for a season of winter rest. Hopefully I too will get a winter rest. In fact I am realizing that I need to make sure that it happens. At the moment I am longing for that rest.
It has been a very busy season of harvest – in the garden, in my personal life and in our ministry. As I sat here thinking about that this morning I was reminded of Brueggemann’s words in talking about the good fruit of the Spirt which he equates with God’s command in Genesis to be fruitful, an association I have never made before. The fruitfulness God asks of us is the fruitfulness that leads to the in breaking of God’s eternal, peaceable kingdom in which all creatures will find their true purpose and all humans will find their wholeness.
Entry into God’s new community, Bruggemann believes, requires only one observance – the practice of Sabbath. I am profoundly impacted by his radical statement that for the children of Israel there is only one condition for entry into the community – the practice of Sabbath:
That is because Sabbath represents a radical disengagement from the producer-consumer rat race of the empire. The community welcomes members of any race or nation, any gender or social condition, so long as that person is defined by justice, mercy and compassion and not competition, achievement, production or acquisition. There is no mention of purity, only work stoppage with a neighbourly pause for humanness. (54)
He contends that at the heart of our fruitfulness as members of God’s community is our ability to embrace and practice Sabbath.
It was at the beginning that God blessed the human creatures and said to them, “Be fruitful”. The God who gave the blessing and invited fruitfulness is the Lord of the Sabbath. It requires Sabbath to bear the fruits of God’s kingdom. Those who refuse Sabbath produce only sour grapes, the grapes of wrath and violence and envy and, finally, death. Sabbath is a refusal of the grapes of wrath, en embrace of good fruits of life and joy, of praise and shalom. (Sabbath as Resistance 57).
This is very radical thinking, but combined with N.T. Wright’s understanding that Jesus came to fulfill the Sabbath and bring into being God’s peaceable kingdom of rest and wholeness, it makes sense. Lots to mull over here. I would love to know what you think.
I have just finished reading Walter Brueggemann’s new book Sabbath As Resistance. Talk about stimulating, challenging and encouraging. It is one of the best books I have read for a long time. He reminds us that Sabbath is not about keeping rules but rather about becoming a whole person in the midst of a restored, whole society.
Brueggemann contrasts the restless anxiety of our producer/consumer culture with the restfulness of God’s Sabbath world.
In our own contemporary context of the rat race of anxiety, the celebration of Sabbath is an act of both resistance and alternative. It is resistance because it is a visible insistence that our lives are not defined by the production and consumption of commodity goods. Such an act of resistance requires enormous intentionality and communal reinforcement amid the barrage of seductive pressures from the insatiable insistences of the market, with its intrusion into every part of our life from the family to the national budget….
But Sabbath is not only resistance it is alternative. It is an alternative to the demanding, chattering, pervasive presence of advertising and its great liturgical claim of professional sports that devour all our “rest time.” The alternative on offer is the awareness and practice of the claim that we are situated on the receiving end end of the gifts of God. (preface xiv)
Brueggemann explains that the command to keep Sabbath is the pivotal point of the ten commandments. The weekly work pause breaks the production cycle. It breaks the anxiety cycle and it invites us into a radical world of neighbourliness and equality. The commandments that follow he tells us really show us what neighbourliness looks like – you do not dishonour mother and father, you do not kill, commit adultery, steal, bear false witness or covet.
Sabbath is not simply a pause. It is an occasion for reimagining all of social life away from coercion and competition to compassionate solidarity. Such solidarity is imaginable and capable of performance only when the drivenness of of acquisitiveness is broken. Sabbath is not simply the pause that refreshes. It is the pause that transforms. Whereas Israelites are always tempted to acquisitiveness, Sabbath is an invitation to receptivity, an acknowledgement that what is needed is given and need not be seized. (45)
Grappling with the implications of Brueggemann’s theological interpretation is something that I am sure will occupy a lot of my mind in the next few weeks. I have long felt that God’s kingdom of wholeness and restfulness is the world view around which my whole life should revolve but I must confess it is not always so. Like the Israelites and like many of us, anxiety and acquisitiveness very quickly take over and in the midst of that anxiety the temptation to let go of Sabbath is huge.
I think that this is an essential read for all of us. And I hope that like me you will be challenged by this book to rethink your life and to learn to live in the Sabbath restfulness that God intends for us all.
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