Once again I sit looking out my window at the bird-feeder tree, this time as a cloudy morning brightens the sky uniformly. Today, tiny feather-balls drop from the tree to the landscaped rock bed and peck around at who knows what. I watch them randomly skitter around and peck until the neighbor's central air unit rumbles into action. Spastically, the whole community takes cover, returning to the safety of the branches of the tree. Though not appearing to be finished with the pecking work, they nevertheless find the loud noise reason enough to relocate, abandoning the task at hand.
How often am I like that little bird? How often do I flap off in terror when loud things happen at the "next house" down the block, things that have nothing to do with me, really, despite the loud noise they make? That's not to say I shouldn't ever seek a larger awareness and express active concern for the larger world where possible, but should I be fearfully reactive?
One of the first hallmark moves toward spiritual formation is the recognition that we know as little about the larger environment of our spiritual placement as these little birds knew of the suburban yards they inhabit. Henri Nouwen described this step of growth succinctly in his book, Spiritual Formation: "Spiritual formation leads not to a proud understanding of divinity, but to docta ignorantia, an 'articulate not-knowing.' " We can't help but react to the things that startle us, but we can humbly acknowledge the mystery that is--and always will be--larger than our knowing.
Second Wind Ministry
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
The One Thing
I grew corn this year.
For the first time in this backyard garden, I grew corn.
As I sat shucking that corn, I thought about my options.
Someone had sent me a link to a video about how I could optimize my time with a microwave oven and careful cob-chopping so that I spent only seconds actually engaged with corn-shucking thereby freeing myself to do multiple other tasks simultaneously.
But something in me languished at the thought of all that. Instead, I took the basket of corn into the back yard, sat in a lawn chair, and started shucking, old-school. With every ear, I considered the scope of this mini-rebellion. For once, I wanted to do just one thing. That's all. One thing.
Shucking corn demands your full physical engagement. Both hands. For the most part, a stationary position helps, too. It also demands light attention--are the silks all cleared off the ear? Are the kernels developed and of good quality?
I thoroughly enjoyed my fifteen minutes of single-purpose work, and that fifteen minutes came back to mind richly as I read the following passage in which Linus Mundy quotes Dee Dee Risher's article in The Other Side:
"One spiritual discipline we must try to recover is to enjoy tasks instead of simply viewing them as things to get done. How many activities are there in our lives in which enjoyment comes from the process of doing them rather than the accomplishment of having them finished? When I pondered this, I discovered that many of the things I enjoyed doing--cooking, gardening, writing letters with a pencil...walking are processes I [now] experience in new ways."
What's one thing you could do today that you can enjoy--not merely for finishing it, but also for simply doing it? What can have your undivided attention in the moment without that ever-present goal of completion intruding?
If you're at all like me, such an approach to the mundane is utterly foreign. It is counter-culture, a deliciously appealing, gleeful rebellion that I can now raise to the status of a spiritual practice.
O happy day!
Linus Mundy, The Complete Guide to Prayer-Walking. (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Co., 1996), 18.
For the first time in this backyard garden, I grew corn.
As I sat shucking that corn, I thought about my options.
Someone had sent me a link to a video about how I could optimize my time with a microwave oven and careful cob-chopping so that I spent only seconds actually engaged with corn-shucking thereby freeing myself to do multiple other tasks simultaneously.
But something in me languished at the thought of all that. Instead, I took the basket of corn into the back yard, sat in a lawn chair, and started shucking, old-school. With every ear, I considered the scope of this mini-rebellion. For once, I wanted to do just one thing. That's all. One thing.
Shucking corn demands your full physical engagement. Both hands. For the most part, a stationary position helps, too. It also demands light attention--are the silks all cleared off the ear? Are the kernels developed and of good quality?
I thoroughly enjoyed my fifteen minutes of single-purpose work, and that fifteen minutes came back to mind richly as I read the following passage in which Linus Mundy quotes Dee Dee Risher's article in The Other Side:
"One spiritual discipline we must try to recover is to enjoy tasks instead of simply viewing them as things to get done. How many activities are there in our lives in which enjoyment comes from the process of doing them rather than the accomplishment of having them finished? When I pondered this, I discovered that many of the things I enjoyed doing--cooking, gardening, writing letters with a pencil...walking are processes I [now] experience in new ways."
What's one thing you could do today that you can enjoy--not merely for finishing it, but also for simply doing it? What can have your undivided attention in the moment without that ever-present goal of completion intruding?
If you're at all like me, such an approach to the mundane is utterly foreign. It is counter-culture, a deliciously appealing, gleeful rebellion that I can now raise to the status of a spiritual practice.
O happy day!
Linus Mundy, The Complete Guide to Prayer-Walking. (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Co., 1996), 18.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Watch and Pray
Take ye heed, watch and pray: for ye know not when the time is.
For the Son of man is as a man taking a far journey, who left his house, and gave authority to his servants, and to every man his work, and commanded the porter to watch...
And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch. --Mark 13:33-34,37
What does it mean to watch and pray?
I have a story to answer that question.
One day, a woman was working in her yard. It was simple work, trimming bushes and plucking upstart weeds from the rocks. She wandered in and out of the garage, puttering, and as she did, she noticed a bag of bird feed that was not quite empty. Rarely did she check the feeder this time of year. After all, bird food grew everywhere, right? Still, pouring the remainder into the bird feeder would free up space on the garage shelf, so she took it out, stood on tip toes to wrestle the feeder down and filled it to the brim.
The next morning, the same woman sat looking out the window. She was praying, sort of. Mostly, she was just sitting, drinking coffee, and "being" with her God. As she stared not-quite blankly, she saw a beautiful cardinal land on the perch of the newly filled birdfeeder. The rising morning light enflamed his feathers as he delicately nipped at the birdseed. As she watched, God turned the golden light into transcendent illumination. "All the weeks you left that feeder empty, and no birds came to feed. Why should they visit? But look here! The very day after you fill it, they begin to return." And she felt tears prick her eyes, because she'd been praying about her larger purpose. She'd been confused about the balance of productivity in her life as she sought to bless those around her. Fill the feeder. Give the birds a reason to come. Such an elegant answer.
Any other day, she would have looked and seen a pretty bird on a beautiful morning as it fed at a birdfeeder. But that day, that one day she received something different, something needful: a live sermon directly from God. Just for her. Just for then.
She received it because she watched and prayed.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Tools for Prayer: Protestant Prayer Beads (Part II)
Bead prayers
have been so much a part of the history of Christian prayer that even the word
“bead” derives from “bede,” an Anglo-Saxon word meaning “prayer.” The age of
Calvinism led to an abandonment of bead praying for most Protestants, but the
practice is regaining popularity.
The
following bead prayer is taken from a set of prayers organized around the
appointed Scripture readings for the church year as given in the Episcopal Book
of Common Prayer. Anglican prayer beads like these consist of a cross and 33
beads—31 beads forming a circle and one large bead and a cross outside that
circle. The smaller beads are arranged
in groups of 7, called weeks, and four larger beads, called cruciform
beads because they form an invisible cross. The four cruciform beads separate these weeks. Directly
above the cross is the invitatory
bead, which serves as a call to worship as you enter the beads’ prayer circle.
To pray with
beads, you start at the cross, holding it in your hand and acknowledging God’s
presence. Then you move on the invitatory bead, followed by the first cruciform
bead, and them the first set of weeks. On the weeks beads, you will pray the
same verse repetitively. It is in the reciting of the weeks that many people
grow uneasy, recalling Christ’s warning about prayers that contain vain
repetitions. (Matt. 6:7.) For those who pray with beads, however, the problem
is not in the repetition but in the vain, or useless, repetition. “The first
thing to remember is that God is not impressed by marathon mumbling. But
praying with beads in a deliberate and meditative way invites the kind of
focused, intentional praying that God honors. The practice of using beads
illuminates the fundamental truth that prayer cannot be rushed…Similarly,
reading and truly absorbing Scripture takes time…Praying these verses from bead
to bead can make us newly aware of their meaning.” (Praying with Beads,
p.xii-xiii.)
After
praying through the weeks, you leave the circle, praying the last cruciform
bead, then reciting the Lord’s prayer as you leave the bead circle and the closing
prayer as you hold the cross once more. Feel free to tailor the prayers to your
own sense of divine leading. For instance, you may wish to pray for various
people with each bead as you pray the weeks. Or you may focus on a different
word or image in the verse through each week of the circle.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Tools for Prayer: Protestant Prayer Beads (Part I)
Most people in the Christian faith are familiar with the Catholic rosary beads but are not necessarily aware of their Protestant counterpart. In a later post, we will look at the functional aspects of using such a prayer tool, but today we'll just do an introductory exploration of prayer beads.
"Many different religions use beads as a tool for prayer, and Catholics have a rosary. Consider creating a chain of beads that you can use as a physical tool as you pray throughout the day. Prayer beads aren't magic, but they can help cure some minor cases of ADD. For instance, create a chain of different-sized beads (or different-colored or different textured beads) for various prayers. You might have a large bead for the Lord's Prayer. You might have seven rough beads for praying against the seven deadly sins...and nine...for the fruit of the Spirit." --Common Prayer A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals
Almost any craft or hobby store has started kits for the novice in beadwork, and many also have a variety of beads from which to choose, so you can thoughtfully personalize your set of prayer beads.
I use mine for a variety of prayer practices: to pray the Psalms as they are given in the book, Praying with Beads; to lift prayers for spiritual direction clients and fellow members of my directors cohort; and currently, I am considering crafting the precepts of my ministry into bead prayer form.
What is the point of using beads for these prayers?
For one thing, the tactile element helps keep the focus on the prayer. For another, the repetitiveness of some prayers--like the ones from the Psalms--helps the one praying to go deeply into a verse, more so than a simple glancing read provides. To turn a passage into a prayer, the multiple readings offer opportunities to transform the text into a prayer of the heart. What's more, when praying over a list of people or needs, touching each bead individually requires a pause, a singular focus on that one part in the series--something easily missed when prayer involves reciting alone. It is not so for everyone, but for those of us who are distractible, prayer beads can be a beneficial tool.
A prayer rope is a similar way of employing this sort of prayer aid, and if your inclination toward a creative practice includes handwork, here is a nice tutorial for creating your own prayer rope.
Claiborne, Shane. Common Prayer A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010.
"Many different religions use beads as a tool for prayer, and Catholics have a rosary. Consider creating a chain of beads that you can use as a physical tool as you pray throughout the day. Prayer beads aren't magic, but they can help cure some minor cases of ADD. For instance, create a chain of different-sized beads (or different-colored or different textured beads) for various prayers. You might have a large bead for the Lord's Prayer. You might have seven rough beads for praying against the seven deadly sins...and nine...for the fruit of the Spirit." --Common Prayer A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals
Almost any craft or hobby store has started kits for the novice in beadwork, and many also have a variety of beads from which to choose, so you can thoughtfully personalize your set of prayer beads.
I use mine for a variety of prayer practices: to pray the Psalms as they are given in the book, Praying with Beads; to lift prayers for spiritual direction clients and fellow members of my directors cohort; and currently, I am considering crafting the precepts of my ministry into bead prayer form.
What is the point of using beads for these prayers?
For one thing, the tactile element helps keep the focus on the prayer. For another, the repetitiveness of some prayers--like the ones from the Psalms--helps the one praying to go deeply into a verse, more so than a simple glancing read provides. To turn a passage into a prayer, the multiple readings offer opportunities to transform the text into a prayer of the heart. What's more, when praying over a list of people or needs, touching each bead individually requires a pause, a singular focus on that one part in the series--something easily missed when prayer involves reciting alone. It is not so for everyone, but for those of us who are distractible, prayer beads can be a beneficial tool.
A prayer rope is a similar way of employing this sort of prayer aid, and if your inclination toward a creative practice includes handwork, here is a nice tutorial for creating your own prayer rope.
Claiborne, Shane. Common Prayer A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
The Faith of a Child
But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.
--Luke 18:16
waiting for service to begin |
Easter Sunday came bright and beautiful to my town this year. The service was everything I'd hope an Easter service to be. But for me, the highlight of Easter Sunday came at the end of the service when--as a member of the prayer team--I had the privilege of praying with a young lady who responded to the altar call.
Her parents brought her forward, along with her four-year-old brother. She was six herself, something I learned as I knelt down to engage her face-to-face. I asked her name and her age, and that was when the little miracle happened--the little miracle that seemed so natural to her that she didn't even take note of it, and so neither did I, although I continue to ponder the wonder of it in my heart.
"A--," she answered.
"And how old are you, A--?"
"I'm six and a half."
I smiled. "You know, I was just about your age when I invited Jesus into my heart, too," I commented.
"Yes, you were five," she said matter-of-factly.
And there it was.
She knew what she couldn't possibly know, but wasn't the least bit surprised at knowing it.
Such is the way of children.
So we prayed for her heart and honored this moment when she purposely invited Christ to make a home there.
Then, her little brother tapped me on the shoulder. He wanted a prayer, too. He wasn't quite sure why. Not until I saw this picture did I realize she had her hand on his little head. Some part of her--probably the same part that perceived and communed with my own childhood moment of re-creation-- that part knew to pass on what she'd received only moments prior herself, and to pass it on in the only way she knew how...with a touch and a prayer.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Designing an Altar Space
Our relentless human search for new ways of being and relating, our dreams of beauty, our longings for mercy and justice, these are exercises of the imagination.
Wendy Wright
One of the exercises she offers her spiritual direction clients is mini-altar design.
To use this visual art exercise, Paintner advises:
"Collect a set of figurative symbols or small statues and place them on a tray. Invite directees to create an altar space when they arrive to a session with the symbols which are resonating with them that day. Begin by talking about their selections."
I used this opening exercise with several clients myself and found they all had differing inspiration for the use of each element in their altar space, despite the commonality of the elements.
They also found the placement of the objects in relation to each other and in relation to the overall space likewise added significance to their altars.
One of the beauties of accessing the visual arts this way is that no particular skill or talent is required to reap its benefits. This is a method anyone can use to move into a time of prayer and reflection. It does not need to be complicated. You may choose to use symbols from nature, items that link to scriptural symbolism for you, or anything else that expresses "where you are" with God right now. You could do this with a small group or even alone. If doing the activity with a group or a soul companion, describe your choices and their placement. Explain the significance of each piece and how it defines an altar space between you and God right now. If doing this alone, spend a few moments in prayer after crafting the space. Describe to God why this particular altar space is your way of offering Him hospitality in your heart.
Paintner, Christine. Awakening the Creative Spirit, Bringing the Arts to Spiritual Direction. New York: Morehouse Publishing. 2010. p. 78
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