Learning to listen
In this second post on Reimagining Everyday Spirituality I want to talk about our need to be attentive to others. Pretty logical you might think, after all the scriptures remind us to:
get beyond yourself and protecting your own interests; be sincere and secure your neighbour’s interests first. (Phil 2:4 The Voice).
But how easy is that? Most of us don’t converse with people we talk to them, more interested in getting our own point across than in hearing what they have to say. We are easily distracted by text messages, phone calls and social media. Even when the person we are conversing with starts to speak our minds are focused on what we want to say next. Consciously or even unconsciously we seek to control others by telling them what to do and how to do it.
I became aware of that at the beginning of Lent. I had a very clear agenda for how our MSA team should practice Lent and I wanted everyone else to buy into it. Fortunately our use of the Quaker discernment process in our team meetings has taught me to listen. And that listening resulted in a whole different approach to Lent – from a season of denial to one of transformation.
Our involvement in our communities is often done with little listening too. We think we know what the community needs.How often do we miss what God is saying and wanting to do in our lives and in those of others because we do not listen carefully? or because we fail to ask the right questions.
I learned this lesson from a Yale Masters in Public Health class that went door to door in their neighbourhood asking: What is the best thing we could do to improve your health? The answer from the community was something that was not even on their screens – Teach us to vote. If we can vote, we can elect officials that have our interests at heart, then we will get the health clinics and the garbage collections that we need.
A friend of mine who does ministry into Mexico learnt the same lesson when they asked their target community What would you like us to build first? The unexpected answer was a basketball court. The community felt that this would provide a neutral gathering place and environment that would bring together warring factions within the community. And it worked. A community centre, school and health clinic then grew up around the playing field.
What does this have to do with spiritual practice you may ask? Well in my mind learning to listen is one of the most important spiritual practices we can develop. Giving others our full attention as they speak means that we value them as persons who are fully human. Being receptive to what they have to teach us opens us to new perspectives that enrich our lives and our faith.
And through our listening we often meet Jesus who does come to us in the homeless, the marginalized and the disadvantaged. Such listening makes us aware of injustices we never thought about before – lack of a living wage, abuse in families, atrocities of sex trafficking, ongoing racism and discrimination are still hidden in our communities. We can turn a blind eye and pretend they don;t exist or we can break out of our comfortable Sunday go to church approach to spirituality and listen with the willingness to respond.
Seeing with new eyes
I am busily getting ready for the Inhabit Conference. We have sent in our contributions to the welcome packets, cleaned rooms for our guests Shane Claiborne, Al Tizon and Andy Wade, and now its time to get my presentations ready. Then all I need is to get ready to party.
My workshop is entitled: Reimagining Everyday Spirituality – Rooted locally, linked globally. The word that keeps coming to me is one that my husband Tom focused on during the season of Lent “Be Attentive”. So I thought i would do some quick posts over the next few days that summarize what I will speak about. It is my growing conviction that in order to become mature followers of Christ we need to learn to be attentive – to ourselves, to others, to God and to God’s world. And out of that attentiveness we need to become creative and reimagine the spiritual practices that both nurture our spirits and keep us fully engaged in God’s world.
So what does it mean to be attentive to ourselves?
- First we need to be attentive to our bodies – getting regular exercise, a healthy diet and plenty of sleep are, believe it or not some of the most fundamental spiritual practices we can acquire. Listening to the rhythm of our bodies is also helpful. As the days lengthen into spring and then summer our bodies speed up and become more productive. As the days shorten in autumn and winter our bodies slow down. Being attentive to these rhythms, gearing our activities to flow to these rhythms makes us both more productive and more in synch with God’s ways.
- Second we need to be attentive to our minds. We live in a world in which it is very hard to shut off the clatter and clutter of our minds. Developing reflective practices like lectio divina, the prayer of examen, breathing prayers that enable us to do that is essential. One weekly practice I have found really helps me with this is my Sunday practice of journalling and then asking the questions: What am I grateful for? What am I struggling with? What bears the fingerprints of God? These questions have not only made me more attentive to myself but also to others and to God.
- Third we need to be attentive to our spirits. When we feel spiritually drained, depressed or distant from God we need to pause and take time to ask why. Spiritual retreats, not to listen to motivational speakers but to refresh our spirits are essential. Not allowing ourselves the time to refuel slowly erodes our spirits and destroys our faith.
- Start with a spiritual audit. This is a suggestion that I have made in the past to honestly evaluate our spiritual health and maturity so that we know what we need to focus our energy on.
So maybe you can’t attend the Inhabit conference, but you can work on being attentive to the ways God speaks to you and to the changes you need to make in order to be most effective as a follower of Christ.
It Earth Day and I wanted to celebrate first by sharing a new free resource we have produced Creating a Faith Based Community Garden. You can download it here.
Second, as our gardens here in Seattle are in full swing earth day seems like a great time to get out and pray over them. This prayer comes from the resource To Garden with God
God bless this garden
Through which your glory shines
May we see in its beauty the wonder of your love
God bless the soil
Rich and teeming with life
May we see in its fertility the promise of new creation
God bless our toil
As we dig deep to turn the soil
May we see in our labour your call to be good stewards
God bless each seed
That takes root and grows
May we see in their flourishing the hope of transformation
God bless the rains
That water our efforts to bring forth life
May we see in their constancy God’s faithful care
God bless the harvest
Abundant and bountiful in season
May we see in God’s generosity our need to share
God bless this garden
As you bless all creation with your love
May we see in its glory your awesome majesty
Amen
The Empty Tomb – He Qi
Christ is risen so we proclaimed yesterday in our churches. The sanctuaries were festooned with flowers and rang with shouts of Alleluia. Most of us were decked out in our new spring outfits and the kids excitedly hunted for easter eggs. But today that excitement seems to have passed and life as usual is the order of the day.
How do we regain the excitement, the awe, the wonder of Christ’s resurrection and live into it every day of our lives? We are God’s resurrection people, the first fruits of the new creation and unless we live as resurrection people God’s new life has not really taken root in our hearts.
Some theologians think that the whole theme of the Gospel of John is that of new creation. Most of the book of John (chapters 12-20) takes place during one week in the life of Christ. John’s gospel is not chronological, it concentrates on themes. One theme is that Christ will redeem all of Creation (not just souls) through Re-Creation. In many ways Jesus death was like the planting of a seed (Unless a seed is planted in the soil and dies it remains alone, but its death will produce many new seeds, a plentiful harvest of new lives (Jn 12:24). Jesus suffering began in the garden of Gethsemane and then in John 20:15 as Mary visits the garden tomb where Jesus was laid after his crucifixion we read: “she thought he was the gardener” Why did it matter that Mary Magdalene thought that Jesus was the gardener? It matters because he is the gardener of the new creation.
The gospel of John begins with the words “In the beginning”. This immediately harkens us to the book of Genesis which opens with the same words. John then lays out a series of events in the life of Christ that mirror the Seven Days of Creation. Read more
In the beginning God planted a garden – the Garden of Eden (Gen 3:8). Adam and Eve are expelled from the garden. Now, in the beginning of the new creation brought into being by the resurrection of Christ God in the form of the risen Christ, is once more seen as a gardener inviting humankind back into the garden of creation.
The Scriptures tell us that the Son of God began His sufferings in a Garden and brought them to a close in a Garden. That is an absolutely amazing display of God’s wisdom. After all, Jesus is the second Adam undoing what Adam did and doing what Adam failed to do. Read the entire article
The hope and promise of these words which we so often skim over is incredible. As we read in 2 Corinthians 5:17
“Therefore if anyone is in Christ he is a new creation, the old has passed away, behold, the new has come.”
And in Romans 8:19-23
“For the Creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God;
for the Creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of him
who subjected it in hope; because the Creation itself will be set free from its
bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God. We
know that the whole creation has been groaning in travail together until now; and
not only the creation but we ourselves who have the first fruits of the Spirit groan
inwardly as we wait for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. ”
New life has sprung forth in the person of the risen Christ, a new creation has begun and we catch glimpses of it every time we reach out to help someone in need, heal someone who is sick, cry out for justice against oppression and set free those who are bound. Christ’s resurrection carries with it the promise of many lives renewed, restored and bearing fruit and we have the opportunity to be a part of this transformation. Imagine what would happen in your life and in mine, and more importantly imagine what would happen in our world if we gave ourselves fully to this dream.
Where do you plan to proclaim the life of God’s new creation today? Where do you plan to show yourself as one of God’s resurrection people?
Hallelujah Christ is risen! May we see him today not just in places of joy and abundance but also in the midst of suffering and pain. Christ is risen and is making all things new. We live in hope of the day when all creation will be renewed and death, and suffering and pain will be done away with.
Tenebrae service St Andrew’s Episcopal Seattle
Last night we attended the Good Friday Tenebrae service at our church. It was a very moving service of readings. We started with the sanctuary alive with light and ended with it in darkness except for the Christ candle which stood at the foot of the cross. It was powerful. Here are the readings that most impacted me.
It is in the darkness, when there is nothing left in us that can please or comfort our minds, when we seem to be useless and worthy of all contempt, when we seem to have failed, when we seem to be destroyed and devoured, it is then that the deep and secret selfishness that is too close to us for us to identify is stripped away from our souls. It is in this darkness that we find liberty. It is in this abandonment that we are made strong. This is the night which empties us and makes us pure. (Thomas Merton)
To each one of us Chris is saying: If you want your life and mission to be fruitful, like mine, do as I do. Be converted into a seed that lets itself be buried. Let yourself be killed. Do not be afraid. Those who shun suffering will remain alone. No one is more alone than the selfish. But if you give your life out of love for others, as I give mine for all, you will reap a great harvest. (Oscar Romero)
And out of my reflections came this poem:
Today we mourn.
For promises unfulfilled
for wholeness unrealized
for brokenness still afflicting.
Today there is only darkness.
Our hopes are buried
our longings shrouded
our desires entombed.
Today the grave engulfs us.
We walk in hell
empty, stripped of life
no light only darkness.
Today God seems to have failed.
Yet here we find freedom
Between death and resurrection
This is the night which empties us
and makes us whole.
Christ on the Cross
This morning I sat at my desk lost in the agony of the cross. The agony of the cross is never far from us not just on this Friday but every day. We experience it in our own sufferings and of those we love. We watch it on TV in the agony of families who lost their children and their loved ones in Flight 370 and South Korean ferry disaster. We watch its ongoing unfolding in the horrors unfolding in Syria, the Ukraine and other parts of the world. Why? Why? Why? we cry and there are no easy answers.
I had just received a Facebook note from my good friend Michelle Ruetschle. You may remember several years ago when her husband Steve had an accident that left him as a quadriplegic and the amazingly miraculous recovery he made. He is now walking, and working once more as pastor in the Philippines. Now one of their sons has developed Type 1 diabetes. Michelle’s bravery in the midst of this new agony is a wonderful reminder to me of how all of can respond in the situations of life that make us feel, like Jesus that we are abandoned, persecuted and despised.
Michelle says:
My ten year old is already an expert, not only in his care but in his attitude. But as his mother, I count the cost and gather up the shards of freedom left in the aftermath of the disease. To do anything less would be to miss the courage and responsibility Jude exhibits daily.
A few brave friends looked our situation in the face, and with voices thick with tears, said, “Too much.” I was grateful for the absence of placation and appeasement, that allowed it to be a very bad thing that had happened to our son. We rise and smile so that it is not too much, especially for others, especially for him. But behind the capability and the making the most of things, this, like so many other things, is not the way it should be. Just as no child should hunger or thirst or suffer neglect, no child should be poked and prodded throughout their day. No child should worry about every bit of food that passes their lips. No child should be woken in the night to make sure they are not dangerously low. I should not know the ICU nurses so well. While we are going to be okay, and while Jude will be able to do many things in life, it is also all right to acknowledge that this is not, actually, okay.
Today is Good Friday. In Manila, the stores are closed, the city hushed, the traffic scarce. Last night, as we ended our Maundy Thursday service, the lights dimmed and Steve ripped the covering off of the altar and left it messy on the floor. He limped from the sanctuary. We processed out in darkness and silence. I am glad for a God that does not turn away from suffering. I am grateful that he wept in the garden on the night he was betrayed. I am grateful that he wanted friends to stay awake with him and pray. They did not. I am grateful that he still considered them friends.
It is sometimes considered a sick thing that as Christians we remember our Savior through blood and a broken body, that we gather to worship around a Roman torture instrument, the cross. But if I am honest about my own brokenness, and as I look out upon a world that suffers far more than I could ever know, I am grateful for the language of suffering that is so central to our faith. His sacrifice was costly. Today we turn and look that cost in the face: the beatings, the mockery, the crown of thorns, and yes, the Roman instrument of torture, the cross. We cannot weigh the spiritual suffering, the heaviness of our sin and shame, the separation from the Father, that drove the pain still deeper. But we can honor it by acknowledging it, by looking it in the face with whatever courage we can muster.
It is deeply troubling, as it should be. His suffering is troubling. Our sin is troubling. The suffering that abounds in the world is troubling. But as we shift our gaze from the suffering itself to the love that caused him to willingly hang there, it is also heartrendingly beautiful. We see him extending grace to an undeserving thief. We see him forgiving us even as we did the harmful deed. We suffer because we must. He suffered because he loved. The love has a transformative effect. The sweetness mingles with the bitter, just as love mingles with our sin, and shifts what is true. The cross becomes not only an instrument of torture but the instrument of our redemption. The curtain is forever torn asunder. We enter in.
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