Readers of this blog may know that Camano Island, Washington is the home of the emerging Circlewood Village. It also happens to be home for many artists and their studios. Recently I had the privilege of touring the home and studios of Susan Cohen Thompson who lives only two miles from the Circlewood property.
The home of Susan and Clay Thompson shelters two working studios. Coming into their living space is like entering a display gallery. Paintings and drawings cover the walls and a variety of ceramics and artifacts line shelves and table tops throughout the main floor. Climbing the stairwell to the second floor took time, as I admired all the paintings on the way to the formal upstairs studio.
Walking into that space felt like stepping into a tree house. Large windows revealed a variety of deciduous and evergreen trees in the forestland of the adjacent Camano Island State Park. Through another window was a panoramic view of the Saratoga Passage, part of the Salish Sea with views of Whidbey Island and the Olympic Mountains. Returning my eyes to the walls in the studio, I gazed upon painting after painting of the natural world. In the tree house studio, the art of nature and the art of a human being merged seamlessly into one another. It is no wonder that Susan describes her art in this way:
To be human
I recognize my relationship with nature.
I see with the eyes of the trees
and feel with the heart of the forest.
—SCT
Dancing with the Setting Sun, by SUSAN COHEN THOMPSON
A favorite theme that can be seen in her art depicts trees not simply swaying in the wind, but dancing! Because Susan understands that trees and forests are sentient beings, she portrays them as dynamic and animated creatures. She believes that trees are the most generous and sacred beings on Earth. They provide countless species with food, shelter, warmth, water and perhaps most importantly—air. Trees breathe. Plants, animals and humans breathe. There is one breath on Earth. Susan has written, “I breathe the trees and the trees breathe me.”
Susan once had a dream when a thousand birds flew out of her hands and traveled around the globe whispering, “Everything is connected. You are a part of a feeling Earth.” Birds have been a favorite theme in all of her art forms since that dream. She loves to embed the general shape of birds into many of her paintings. Sometimes they become visible only after gazing deeply into the art work. Other times they make a vivid statement about interconnectivity.
In my dream of earth,
eye of self merges with eye of bird and
I am forever changed.
My primary self resides in nature.
—SCT
Lucid Dreamer, by SUSAN COHEN THOMPSON
Besides her dream, Susan’s passion for understanding the significance of the interconnectedness of nature and humanity evolved out of her own lived experience. She has hiked into the temperate forests of the Pacific Northwest and deep into the rainforest of the Ecuadorian Amazon. Susan believes that our lack of appropriate relationships with nature stems from our lack of awareness of the deep connection that we human beings share with the Earth.
For me, this theme of the interconnectivity of life is the most moving and important aspect of Susan’s art.Her art embodies a central teaching of the contemplative monk and Christian mystic, Thomas Merton, who wrote of his “keen awareness of the interdependence of all living things which are all part of one another and involved in one another.”
In order to live as an ecological disciple, I believe that it is vital to understand our interdependence with all of Earth and her creatures. Once we realize that the Earth is indeed sacred, that the Earth does not belong to us, but that we belong to Earth, we begin to cultivate an expanding compassion for all of created life. We make healthier decisions for our own bodies and Earth’s body.
In my own spiritual journey, retirement from full time congregational ministry and relocation to Camano Island has been a life-transformative experience. My eyes were opened to the innate sacredness of the Earth when I began praying and worshipping outdoors. Additionally, experiencing the artwork created by Susan has led me to a deep awareness of the empathy I share with creation.
Showing that human beings are an integral part of nature is a recurring theme in Susan’s art. Her paintings emphasize what human beings might look like when they are fully connected to the Earth, which can be seen in the work below.
Awakening: Facing the Edge of the Forest, by SUSAN COHEN THOMPSON
What do you see and experience happening as you pray with this painting? Obviously, we see immediately an image of a woman who is asleep. Resting, she appears content as her head is cradled in the arms of what appear to be two trees. As our eyes move from left to right in each image, her face becomes more defined. Her eyes are opening and developing in the middle frame and a more apparent smile is forming. At the same time, the image of the woman has also become more “nature-like” as images of water, sky and clouds are forming within her face. However, a naiveté remains in the expression of her eyes.
In the third frame we see a woman who is more fully formed and more obviously awake. I see a compassionate and wise gaze. Also, the woman’s humanity has become more embedded within the structure of what now appears to be a forest. The smaller tree that once cradled her face is now revealed with a more mature and sturdy trunk. A root wisp touches the woman’s mouth. The eyes appear to be more human looking. As for the nose, it too has become more humanlike. Or not. Perhaps the nose has become treelike. Perhaps they have become one. Yes! Human beings and trees share the same breath. While it is clear that the awakening woman is becoming more clearly defined against the backdrop of forest, sky and water; nature has been undergoing its own changes. The forest itself has become more expansive.
We often think and speak of the conflict and competition that exists between creation and humanity. Susan’s art is refreshing in that it clearly depicts how both can enhance one another. Her art gives us images which lead us into a deeper appreciation of both God’s creation and humanity by reminding us that we are dependent upon one another for our mutual individuation and evolution. It invites us to understand the point of view of nature instead of only focusing on our experiences in nature.
And, of course, her art is an invitation to be aware of our impact on the Earth. As creation theologian Matthew Fox has said, “Compassion is born of interconnectivity, the cosmic law of responding to another’s pain and suffering, joy and celebration as one’s own.”
What might happen if more of us had our own awakening and began to view life with the eyes of nature? Might that not enable us to cultivate a more robust mutual relationship with Earth? What might happen if we attuned ourselves to hearing what messages, what feelings, what wisdom is being offered to us by and through creation? Might we become more empathetic and compassionate human beings? I am thankful that Susan’s art invites us into this sacred dance with creation and all of its gifts and treasures.
Radiant Fields, by SUSAN COHEN THOMPSON
More of Susan’s work can be seen on her website.
Visit her Camano Island studio by appointment by emailing her at susan@thompsonartstudio.com, or calling 425-750-4994.
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
I am once more looking out on a hazy Seattle scene, as wildfires continue to burn in Eastern Washington, Oregon and British Columbia, Canada polluting the air with their smoke. It meant that once more I spent most of the weekend inside. This time however, I pulled out my Godspacelight Community Cookbook and got to work making olive tapenade with dried tomatoes and Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwiches a la Tom Sine. Minus the lettuce this year however because some little creature has eaten all my lettuce. I had also hoped to make chocolate zucchini bread, but alas our zucchini has not done well. So I got creative and used our Asian pears to make chocolate, pear bread instead. It was delicious. I love how the rhythm of the garden and its produce encourages me to relax, have some fun, think outside the box and create new recipes.
The garden has so much to teach us about the rhythms that God intends for us and each year I feel I learn something new that helps feed the rhythm of my own life. I love to go outside in the morning to see how the tomatoes have ripened and admire the dahlias, fuchsias, geraniums and other flowering plants. One of my summer rituals that I will miss when the days become grey and wet is this early morning garden walk. The changing seasons encourage me not just to create new recipes, but new rhythms and rituals too. As I mentioned in yesterday’s Meditation Monday: Rethinking Rhythms “The rhythms and the seasons of our lives are rooted in our lived experiences and our search for meaning but they will not unfold themselves fully unless we take time to stand back and become aware of who we are and how God wants to guide us. That is why I frequently harp on our need for retreats.” It is also why I hope that you will join me on Saturday for my upcoming retreat Rhythms and Seasons. Or sign up for all three retreats for a special discount. After each retreat you will receive a copy of the recording from the session so that you can listen at your leisure.
This week our most popular post, What is Theopoetics Part 1, by Kellie Brown, was a fascinating read. I love the suggestion that “effusing the pursuit of God with poetic aesthetics and sensibilities could spark a Christian renewal. “ and her quote from W. David Taylor which reminds us that poetry is “a native language of God and of the people of God.” We find our authors are increasingly expressing themselves through poetry, as June Friesen does in her beautiful post Embracing Compassion and Karen Wilk also does in her gathering Earth: A Hand Reflection.
Another very popular post this week was Elaine Breckenridge’s An Unexpected Season in which she shares some of her journey with breast cancer over the last few months. She too uses poetry to express the ups and downs of her journey. I particularly love these words:
But what if in fact
I am a sailor
pausing to read
the skies and the currents
Taking the time to prepare
For the weather ahead?
I am not a drifter.
I am a navigator
Honing my skills
As I prepare for the next
grand sail of my life.
For me they sum up the way we should approach the changing landscape of our lives and seasons that unfold before us. They really resonate with me as I prepare for Saturday’s retreat Rhythms and Seasons.
The God of rhythm and balance
Flow through you with rest and work and enjoyment.
The God of fun and festivity
Surround you with laughter and play and delight.
The God of life and love
Enrich you with a future of satisfaction and joy and sustainability.
May you dance with the angels,
And shout with the children,
May you sing with all creation
Of the wonder of God’s presence.
Many blessings
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
by Kellie Brown
God’s embodiment and involvement in the ever-changing material world implies God is still at work, still revealing God’s self. Theopoetical discourse acknowledges that God and God’s Word are not fully known and therefore remain open to discovery and interpretation. Speaking of the Bible, McEntyre reminds us that it is not a book of intractable rules but “a living word to a living people,” (1) and therefore we should be part of a long conversation in which our current generational urgencies allow us to learn from each other and to adapt an ancient text so that it is able to hold space, to be like new wineskins, for what God is doing now, even as we continue to honor what God has already done. This mindset allows us to acknowledge God’s paradoxical intention to declare both, “I the Lord do not change,” (2) and “Behold I will do a new thing.” (3)
One of the important voices in helping us explore the dynamic nature of God through theopoetics is Callid Keefe-Perry, who ministers within The Religious Society of Friends (Quakers) and teaches at Boston College’s School of Theology and Ministry. His book, Way to Water: A Theopoetics Primer, is the first of its kind, seeking both to provide an explanation of the field and to serve as a practical guide for how this method can bring a critical lens and deep spiritual meaning to the daily Christian life. In addition to his writings, Keefe-Perry has championed theopoetics through his work as an architect and leading force in ARC (Arts – Religion – Culture), the primary organization devoted to theopoetical thought. ARC exists as a collaborative community that supports those who desire to seek a more just world for all creation through creative and spiritual practices. ARC stresses that theopoetics is not intended to be an alternative to theology, but a manner of religious reflection that focuses a greater attention on form, genre, and method.
Keefe-Perry believes that transformative power exists in using artistic and creative ways to explore the embodied experience we have on our faith journey. He likes to refer to God as the “Living Water,” a source of refreshment and renewal, what Jesus called “the gift of God…a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” (4) Keefe-Perry trusts theopoetics to help us clear away any flotsam that obstructs our access to the Living Water. I interpret this as enabling us to interact deeply with the divine flow, to “wade into the water,” as the spiritual says.
Regardless of the metaphor, it is important to realize that theopoetics invokes much more than spiritual exploration only intended for personal insight and growth. What we glean through theopoetical exploration is meant to be shared in ministry and to equip us to more rightly and faithfully engage in social justice efforts in our communities and world. The nature of theopoetics invites all to the table and seeks to lift all voices, especially the marginalized ones. Through this framework, our eyes should become more acute and our ears more attuned to racism, sexism, ableism, classicism, and the ever-growing list of bias and injustice that God calls us to confront. The poet Lucille Clifton would often open her readings with words she had heard from an old preacher: “I come to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable.” (5) I believe that sentiment encapsulates the spirit of theopoetics. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, put it this way. “The gospel of Christ knows of no religion but social; no holiness but social holiness. Faith working by love, is the length and breadth and depth and height of Christian perfection.” (6)
Theopoetics seems especially equipped to encourage “beating swords into plowshares” (7) so we can bring about life instead of death. Keefe-Perry hopes that theopoetics can inspire us to exchange pat answers, platitudes, absolutes, and entrenchments for hard-won insights, nuance, and receptivity. He describes theopoetics as aspiring to be rooted in humility and hospitality rather than hubris and hierarchy, large-heartedness in lieu of narrow-mindedness. It yearns to create an ethos of sharing and cooperating, of paying attention and holding space for where we and others are on the journey.
Some Black writers and scholars find theopoetics to be an invaluable tool for examining racial politics and racial justice through a religious lens. One of the preeminent voices in that field is James Howard Hill, Jr., who teaches in the religious studies department at the University of Oklahoma. Hill aims to analyze and interpret the black Christian experience in America through a theopoetical lens that does not shy away from embodied practices, artistic traditions, or controversial figures. One example of this is his Crossroads Fellow Project, “All that Noise is about America: Religion, Race, and Michael Jackson,” which examines the life and music of Michael Jackson in the context of Jackson’s Jehovah Witness upbringing. Hill explores Jehovah Witness print culture alongside black magazines and analyzes Jackson’s performances alongside the culture of the religious institution he became disassociated from. Through this research, Hill strives to understand what Jackson, a pop icon who has attracted and repulsed, and his posthumous legacy can tell us about religious and political problems in America.
Similarly, Kate Common uses theopoetics in her interdisciplinary work with feminist, womanist, and queer theologies. Common comes to theological discourse from a career in graphic design so her skills at presenting information in new and engaging ways supports her writing and teaching about how the Church must move away from its patriarchal and conquest-driven past and violent nationalist present to generate a progressive vision for a loving and inclusive space for all. She encourages her students and all of us not to give up or lose heart in this difficult and protracted mission. Jesus warned us that we would have many troubles in this world and also reassured us that He had overcome the world. I am reminded of the final stanza of “Let Evening Come,” Jane Kenyon’s most well-known poem and an apt vehicle for theopoetical contemplation. “Let it come, as it will, and don’t/be afraid. God does not leave us/comfortless, so let evening come.” (8)
Maybe any theopoetical exploration we undertake should be prefaced by wrestling with these two questions posed by theologian Richard D. McCall. 1) “What sort of God is one who is active in these events?” 2) “Who are we who engage in such activities, who thus enact our relatedness to each other and to the One we call God?” (9)
Keefe-Perry asks the question more simply— “Why theopoetics?” (10) Part of my answer to his question relates to Isaiah’s image of the coming Messiah as a new shoot that will rise up from Jesse’s old stump. Beyond the direct meaning of Jesus arising from the lineage of Jesse and David, I think that image could also represent a new way of thinking and striving. In my own search for spiritual growth, I return again and again to a line Emily Dickinson penned in a letter— “I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.” And so should we all. I believe this resonates with the theopoetical directive to seek, to discover, to illuminate, to embody. May God light our journey.
Originally published by Earth & Altar Magazine.
Artwork: Ancient of Days by William Blake. Public domain.
Kellie Brown
Dr. Kellie Brown is a violinist, conductor, music educator, and award-winning writer whose book, The Sound of Hope: Music as Solace, Resistance and Salvation during the Holocaust and World War II (McFarland Publishing, 2020), received one of the Choice Outstanding Academic Titles award. Her words have appeared in Earth & Altar, Psaltery & Lyre, Ekstasis, The Primer, Agape Review, Calla Press, among others. In addition to over 30 years of music ministry experience, she is a certified lay minister in the United Methodist Church and currently serves at First Broad Street United Methodist Church in Kingsport, TN. More information about her and her writing can be found at kelliedbrown.com.
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
by Christine Sine
Have you noticed that the rhythm of our days and of our seasons doesn’t always flow in the way we expect it to? It’s a little like trying to create a topiary in a garden without any knowledge of how to do it. I intended to spend the summer working on getting my podcast up and running. I thought I had someone lined up to help and I expected to launch it in September. Every door I tried to open seemed to close. Now, as summer draws to a close I look back and say – that was not the rhythm God intended for my summer. It was meant to be a season for reconnecting to friends and companions and for deepening my connection to the garden and God’s amazing world. It was meant to be a season to breathe in a new aspect of God’s eternal breath, allow it to penetrate the negative thoughts that had taken root in my mind over the last couple of challenging years and encourage it to grow down deep into the quiet centre of my being. Wow, how easily I could have missed that!
As I mentioned last week: “I am increasingly aware that the rhythm God calls us to may not revolve around the liturgical calendar or the seasons of the year but is instead a call to draw our lives into that rhythm of Eternal breath, a rhythm that Jesus obviously maintained in his life.” This sounds very vague, mystical, intangible, but for me is also very liberating and in many ways a perspective that needs a whole realignment of our thinking. In the past, I tended to think of the seasons of life as something “out there” I need to grab hold of. Now I realize they are something buried deep within that I need to give breathing space to. I reach deep down into the centre of my being, going deep into the mystery, the wonder, the beauty and the love of God. I relax, breathe deeply of the fragrance of God, allow my Creator’s presence to penetrate the hidden recesses of my soul, lodge there and shine the bright light of God’s presence on me. The rhythms and the seasons of our lives are rooted in our lived experiences and our search for meaning but they will not unfold themselves fully unless we take time to stand back and become aware of who we are and how God wants to guide us. That is why I frequently harp on our need for retreats.
This week I am reading Margaret Silf’s Sacred Spaces – Stations on a Celtic Way. It is another great preparation for this upcoming series of retreats and a wonderful reinforcement of what God is teaching me. She sees the exploration of seasons and sacred spaces as intertwined and woven into the thread of our own stories. For her, seasons are not static, set in concrete like the liturgical or meteorological seasons, they are patterns and stages of growth woven in and out of our lives. However they are not always consistent. They weave their own patterns, sometimes leaping forward, sometimes winding back upon themes and re-emerging in a new way. Margaret Self likens this to a Celtic knot. It is also a little like walking a labyrinth.
This understanding is revolutionizing my life and my preparation for the upcoming Rhythms and Seasons retreat on Saturday. I think it can revolutionize yours too. Don’t forget, this is the first of three retreats in this series. Each is a stand alone retreat but you can join us for all three at a considerably discounted price:
Rhythms and Seasons on September 2nd, yes that’s this Saturday!) will begin with a breath prayer practice, that will guide us into a discussion of the rhythm of eternal breath. We will explore different approaches to rhythms and seasons and how these are meant to be woven into our lives. We will also examine the rhythms that Jesus lived by. In spite of the pressures on his life he rarely seemed hurried and appears to have had a good work/rest balance.
Through discussion, reflection and fun creative activities we will assist you to rediscover God’s sustainable rhythms that provide balance between work and rest, effort and waiting, doing and not doing. Using the seasons of the year and the liturgical pattern of life they gave birth to we will explore how to reconnect our lives to God’s patterns and the practices that should undergird them.
In A Season of Gratitude on October 14th, we will explore one of the most important rhythms we should incorporate in our lives – gratitude and thanksgiving. Gratitude should be a part of our life every day, yet we all suffer from a gratitude gap. We should take time to intentionally give thanks. What could we transform from unpleasant to enjoyable by a change in attitude? How do we approach the world with gratitude and delight at all times? How do we find joy in the midst of the most challenging situations? These are some of the questions we grapple with as we look ahead to the changing seasons. What about you?
In our final retreat for the year An Advent Quiet Day on December 9th, we will take time to pause in the busy days before Christmas to breathe deeply of the love and joy of God. Through reflection on scripture, creative practices and discussion we will enter into a place of rest and renewal that is so important at the end of the year.
Come join us for one or all of these important retreats. They form a powerful series of exploration and reflection for the coming months. And don’t forget, we offer a very special discount for those that attend all three.
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
by Kellie Brown
“Where language is weak, theology is weakened.” (1) This was the pronouncement of Madeleine L’Engle in her reflections on faith and art. L’Engle, who had made a career from the strength of words, found herself increasingly concerned about the decline of language in society and in her beloved Episcopal Church. Given that she made these observations in 1980, I wonder what she would say today.
L’Engle’s statement points us to the heart of theopoetics— the acknowledgement that words play a critical and dynamic role in our faith and culture. Derived from theopoiesi, a combining of the Greek word for God (theos) with poiein, which means “to make or shape,” the term theopoetics in the modern sense was first used in 1971 by theologian Stanley Romaine Hopper. Proponents regarded theopoetics as a possible response to the “Death of God” movement that had taken hold in the 1960s. For many in the Christian community, the Death of God movement signaled the possible death knell of Christianity’s dominance in the United States. Hopper attributed part of the problem to lifeless theology that lacked imagination and discovery, and believed that effusing the pursuit of God with poetic aesthetics and sensibilities could spark a Christian renewal. He and others hoped that theopoetics could offer new ways of thinking and speaking about God that people in his time would find more relevant. But as conservative evangelicalism gained prominence in the late 1970s and 80s, there was less fear of Christianity’s demise. Then with the 1990s came a renewed interest in theopoetics (maybe ironically) as the result of those same evangelical forces. The corruption unveiled through Praise the Lord Network’s Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker and the insidious shadow of political conservatism that twined with the American evangelical movement caused some to seek a method of framing their faith that more clearly centered on truth, beauty, and justice.
In time, theopoetics became linked to a progressive perspective that emphasized how words can shape our personal and corporate spiritual formation. This approach of revealing the divine through words can involve both the process of writing as well as the critical analysis of religious texts. Scott Holland, who helped bring theopoetics into the academy through the development of first a certificate program and then a Master of Arts degree in theopoetics at Bethany Seminary, has contributed to the defining and expanding of theopoetical discourse, especially its generative quality. “Theopoetics is a kind of writing that invites more writing. Its narratives lead to other narratives, its metaphors encourage new metaphors, its confessions invoke more confessions, and its conversations invite more conversations.” (2)
While the poetic form has served as a guide, theopoetics is not just a composite of theology and poetry. Instead, theopoetics relies on a poetic thought process, which means this field of theological inquiry includes other artistic forms and ways of knowing. It invites us to embrace the mystery of the divine rather than expecting us to reduce the examination of faith to a scientific formula. Catherine Keller, one of the important theopoetical voices today, describes theopoetics by its necessary alignment with artistic praxis – of creating something out of nothing. In this way, theopoetics mirrors a Creator God who forms and shapes like a potter and who speaks to us in poetry, imagery, and metaphor.
Theologian Mason Mennenga emphasizes that what theopoetic discourse brings to theology is its “way of thinking, visualizing, and sensing images of God,” (3) and that through this variance of artistic forms we discover that there are multiple ways of knowing God. This points to an especially compelling aspect of theopoetical ideology— that it resists orthodoxy and absolutes, and instead strives to be universal, to move beyond political or denominational labels of progressive or conservative.
Ralph Waldo Emerson predicted that one day philosophy and theology would be taught by poets. Scott Holland thus suggests that Emerson might be the root of modern theopoetics, as it insists on the primacy of this artistic praxis as a necessary precursor to more traditional forms of theological discourse. Indeed, Amos Niven Wilder, brother of Pulitzer-winning playwright Thornton Wilder and an early pioneer in theopoetics, sought to make a case for placing artistic and poetic discourse and sensibilities firmly in the realm of theology. From his experience pastoring a Congregationalist church in New Hampshire to his esteemed post as the Hollis Chair of Divinity at Harvard, Amos Wilder articulated the complementing nature of art and faith— “Before the message there must be the vision, before the sermon the hymn, before the prose the poem.” (4)
Exploring theopoetics draws me back to poetry again and again. W. David Taylor reminds us that poetry is “a native language of God and of the people of God.” (5) It is “a mother tongue of the Word Incarnate on whose lips the psalmist’s words came naturally.” (6) Taylor insists that the Church needs poets because they “teach us to be careful with our words in an often-careless world.” (7) Eugene Peterson offers a similar pronouncement— “Poets are caretakers of language, shepherds of words, protecting them from desecration, exploitation, misuse.” (8) Marilyn McEntyre adds that “Poets slow us down. They teach us to stop and go in before we go on. They play at the edges of mystery.” (9)
Waiting, witnessing, and paying attention are at the core of theopoetics. American poet Mary Oliver had much to say about keeping our eyes open to what surrounds us, especially in nature. In her essay “Upstream,” Oliver declares that “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” (10) Her daily habits bear witness. “In the spring, I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail, in the house of the universe, tiny but useful.” (11)
There is no better spirit guide on a theopoetical journey than Mary Oliver unless you consider Malcolm Guite. Poet, Anglican priest, and life fellow at Girton College of the University of Cambridge, Guite may not use the term theopoetics, but what he says and writes lies firmly rooted in it. In a recent interview, Guite teases apart the differences between information, knowledge, and wisdom. He describes how adept our reasoning minds are at collecting and organizing information, but then unapologetically declares that “reason has almost no access to wisdom at all.” (12) To support his argument, Guite directs us to the words of Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. “The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven. And as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name.” (13) Guite calls this imagination and defines it as a particular way “of knowing and intuiting and feeling we might have missed entirely if the poet or the artist or the painter or the musician hadn’t bodied it forth.” (14) Guite further asserts that reason and imagination, that science and religion, are not antagonists, but “enfolded” partners, and that when they work together, when intellectual inquiry pairs with deeply held faith, we arrive at more fuller ways of knowing. “To do theology well, we must bring the poets to the table along with the theologians.” (15)
Through its openness to the depth and breadth of human experience, theopoetics focuses on our longing to know God. The psalmist confesses, “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God.” (16) According to Terry Veling, theopoetics recognizes that each human being, no matter their individual demographic, is a person who “desires.” Veling enumerates many things we long for, including to be loved, and named, and affirmed, and uplifted, while also acknowledging that we desire to offer these same supportive gestures to others. Veling insists that “God is more akin to ‘desire’ than to ‘knowledge’” (17) and that it is the poets and artists who teach us how to give and receive what we crave. These thoughts undergird theopoetics’ insistence that walking with God should be a fully embodied experience. Human senses serve as witnesses and interpreters of God’s work in our lives and in the world. Theopoetics refuses to shy away from the material and physical side of life and bodies. It urges us to accept that objects and living organisms teach us and that connecting with our own body’s experiences of pleasure, pain, and mortality allows us to relate with our Creator God in deeper ways. I believe this resonates with the message of the Gospel, which is a profoundly embodied story as God submitted to inhabit a woman’s womb for 9 months and then drink from her breasts as the only means of life-sustaining nourishment.
Originally published by Earth & Altar Magazine.
Artwork: Ancient of Days by William Blake. Public domain.
- Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (Convergent, 2001), 32.
- Scott Holland, “Editorial,” CrossCurrents (Volume 60, No. 1, March 2010), 5.
- Mason Mennenga, “What is Theopoetics?” (Blog post, April 10, 2019). https://masonmennenga.com/most-popular-posts/2019/4/10/what-is-theopoetics
- Amos Niven Wilder, Theopoetic: Theology and the Religious Imagination. (Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2013), 1.
- W. David O. Taylor, Glimpses of the New Creation: Worship and the Formative Power of the Arts (Eerdmans, 2019), 122.
- Ibid.
- Ibid.
- Eugene Peterson, Holy Luck (Eerdmans, 2013), xiv.
- Marilyn McEntyre, When Poets Pray (Eerdmans, 2019), 2.
- Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays (Penguin, 2016), 8.
- Ibid., 7.
- Tish Harrison Warren, “Putting the Poetry Back in Christmas,” New York Times (December 11, 2022) https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/11/opinion/advent-christmas-poetry.html
- Ibid.
- Ibid.
- Ibid.
- Psalm 42:1
- L. Callid Keefe-Perry, Way to Water: A Theopoetics Primer (Cascade Books, 2014), xvi.
Kellie Brown
Dr. Kellie Brown is a violinist, conductor, music educator, and award-winning writer whose book, The Sound of Hope: Music as Solace, Resistance and Salvation during the Holocaust and World War II (McFarland Publishing, 2020), received one of the Choice Outstanding Academic Titles award. Her words have appeared in Earth & Altar, Psaltery & Lyre, Ekstasis, The Primer, Agape Review, Calla Press, among others. In addition to over 30 years of music ministry experience, she is a certified lay minister in the United Methodist Church and currently serves at First Broad Street United Methodist Church in Kingsport, TN. More information about her and her writing can be found at kelliedbrown.com.
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
As an Amazon Associate I receive a small amount for purchases made through appropriate links. Thank you for supporting Godspace in this way.
Free Range Friday
by June Friesen
About a year ago I ordered the book Boundless Compassion by Joyce Rupp who is one of
my favorite authors. There was also a journal available so I ordered that as well. As often
happens when they arrived I looked through them and set them aside as I was busy with
other books I wanted to finish. Recently I picked them up and began to read and study
them. I for one could not have imagined how challenging this study would be for me. It is
not a quick study as I find myself really trying to make this something that I can really
learn to practice in all areas of my life. I have been challenged to look at the compassion of
God for humanity. I found myself asking, “Why did God show such compassion for Adam
and Eve in the Garden of Eden?” How could God let them continue living when they were
such a disappointment to Him? And as one continues to read and study the Scriptures
humanity has struggled with following God, obeying God and God’s compassion
continues. As I look around me in my community, my country and the world and see all of
the chaos and cruelty, I am amazed that God doesn’t just zap the universe and start over
again. Yet it is all about God’s compassion.
The photo above is mine – one I took nearly fifteen years ago of my granddaughter as an
infant. She was contentedly sleeping with her hands folded (no one had folded them).
What really attracted me to take the photo though was the little patch on her sleeper –
‘LOVE.’ God created mothers with a special love for their children I believe. After
carrying a little one inside one’s body for about nine months, feeling the movements and
hearing the heartbeat a deep love/compassion develops. In today’s world the medical staff
try to also include the father in some of the special in-utero times such as listening to the
heart beat and observing the little one in an ultrasound. While these are all special
moments for us in the human world, God’s forming and giving life to Adam and Eve was
even a greater bond. And that is why in God’s compassion He was forgiving and forgiving
time and time again in the Old Testament. And now we are in the New Testament times
and you and I are able to experience this incredible compassion of God through a
relationship with Jesus, His Son. If you are anything like me, time and again I wonder how
it was or is that God continues to have compassion for me – because I have had and do
make some big ‘boo boos’ from time to time. But then Jesus’ disciple Peter had some ‘boo
boos’ too. Let me share some verses from Galations 5.
Galatians 5
5 Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a
harness of slavery on you………
4-6 I suspect you would never intend this, but this is what happens. When you attempt to
live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of
grace. Meanwhile we expectantly wait for a satisfying relationship with the Spirit. For in
Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to
anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love.
7-10 You were running superbly! Who cut in on you, deflecting you from the true course of
obedience? This detour doesn’t come from the One who called you into the race in the
first place. And please don’t toss this off as insignificant. It only takes a minute amount of
yeast, you know, to permeate an entire loaf of bread. Deep down, the Master has given me
confidence that you will not defect. But the one who is upsetting you, whoever he is, will
bear the divine judgment…….
13-15 It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you
don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your
freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that’s how freedom
grows. For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence:
Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom. If you bite and ravage
each other, watch out—in no time at all you will be annihilating each other, and where will
your precious freedom be then?
16-18 My counsel is this: Live freely, animated and motivated by God’s Spirit. Then you
won’t feed the compulsions of selfishness. For there is a root of sinful self-interest in us
that is at odds with a free spirit, just as the free spirit is incompatible with selfishness.
These two ways of life are contrary to each other, so that you cannot live at times one way
and at times another way according to how you feel on any given day. Why don’t you
choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law-dominated
existence?
I am not sure how many of you have ever found a painted rock with a message on it
or maybe just a picture. Several years ago I found my first one hidden under a small
bush by a fountain. It looked so professional – and it had Jesus Loves You painted
on it. Since covid my husband and I have done a lot of hiking. Occasionally we have
spotted a painted rock. I usually take a picture and go on my way. About a year ago
we were in our one our favorite hiking places and I noticed the above sign on a tree.
I do not remember what was going on in my life at that time but this message was
just what I needed to see. Again I chose to take a photo and leave it for others to
read and I pray that many were encouraged to think about how loving God is that
He chose to give them life as well as create such a beautiful world. Somehow I have
to think that the person who created this message was one with a compassionate
spirit that they wanted to use to encourage others. Looking at this photo still
reminds me of God’s love for me – as well as God’s love for each one of us – even if
one is not always perfect. That is because God is compassionate.
A COMPASSIONATE PRESENCE
Lord Jesus You were a compassionate presence when you walked this earth –
As You walked along the road people just joined You
And sometimes they asked questions along the way,
Sometimes one would come running up to You inquiring help,
Sometimes You stopped as You noticed a need along the path,
Your presence exuded compassion –
A welcoming, unconditional love to one and all –
In fact, You even entertained the presence of some who really did not like You –
You challenged them to think outside the religious boxes that they had created
And embrace You as the One Messiah they were looking for – real love.
But sadly, they could not see that compassion for themselves or for others for that
matter –
And condemned You and finally had their way and crucified You –
Oh they had been taught compassion in their religious theology
But sadly it was a theology of rules that often trumped compassion.
God, today so many of us seem to get challenged by this very same issue –
We want people to change their behavior and their actions –
We want them to go to church every week like we do,
We want them to do certain things and not to do other things –
And often we do not even know why we do what we do and do not do what we do
not do.
God, it is hard, it is downright difficult to even consider compassion as a way of life –
Especially in the world that we live in today –
So many people do not care about what they say and/or do to me or to anyone else
for that matter –
Today I want to take time to really think about how I might open my spirit to Your
Spirit
And to really help others around me especially in my home and family to find my
actions and words full of compassion;
As I then go out in the world to work as well as to play may my attitude and actions
show compassion for those around me – whether I know them or not.
Yes Father – place within me a spirit of compassion
So my life can bring even more honor and glory to You.
In Jesus name, amen and amen.
Photos by June Friesen. Scripture is from The Message translation.
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
by Karen Wilk
Karen Tamminga-Paton has done numerous paintings of hands and there is something about them that invites us to consider all of life, and in particular our relationships with one another and creation. Take a moment to look at her painting. Take another moment to pay attention to your own hands and perhaps those of others around you. Think about all the bones, muscles, joints, veins and all the other intricacies and abilities of hands! What do you notice? What do they do well? With what do they struggle? How do they bless? How have they treated whatever they touch and how have they been treated? Ponder the painting again and read the following out loud. How will you receive and use the gift of hands today?
Hands
………Worn, wrinkled
………Worked, working,
………Stained.
God gave us hands
………Hands to make and mold
………Hands to have and hold
Young hands, soft and bold
Aching, cracked hands, grown old.
God gave us hands
………To raise in praise
………To clap and sing, write and play
………To cook, to wash and point the way.
God gave us hands
………To garden and gather
………To lend and to share
………To till and to tend
………To reach out and care.
………To feel and to grow
………To make right
………………and seek to know…
But we have taken those hands
………Misused and abused them
………Hurt, enslaved, and refused them
They’ve been squeezed too tight
Cuffed, cut, burnt, and made to fight
Rolled up from open, to fisted
Gone from giving to grabbing
………Selfish, savage, twisted…
And still, Creator loves those hands
And holds them wholly close to God’s heart
Each unique, embodied Holy art
………Cherished, precious, irreplaceable
………Full of potential, fully valuable
………So much so that God made them
His Own
Gathering heaven and earth in One
………Healing, helping, embracing Son
………………Suffering all,
………………………til all is done.
God gave us hands-
Beauty and opportunity
………Creator’s creativity
………………Spirit’s possibility
………………………Incarnate Infinity
………………………………Tangible Divinity
………Inviting our receptivity…
God gave us hands.
Christine Sine is offering three seasonal, virtual retreats to explore living in balance and in line with the natural and liturgical rhythms of the year. Join her for one or all of them September 2, October 14 and December 9. These retreats will encourage us to center ourselves and our lives as we move through the seasons beginning in Fall and moving through Advent. They will be times of reflection, creativity and fun.
As an Amazon Associate, I receive a small amount for purchases made through appropriate links.
Thank you for supporting Godspace in this way.
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