Spiritual Direction and Major World Events

I write this post on the eve of May 1, 2011. United States President Barak Obama has just announced the killing of Osama bin Laden, self-proclaimed author of the tragic events of September 11, 2001.

 

When the towers fell and the Pentagon burned, I was not a spiritual director. My response at that time was to process the event for myself in the written word, and to gather with friends in the DC area where I lived to remember together that even in the midst of tragedy, there is hope.

 

In many ways, my journey as a spiritual director finds echoes and resonances in my responses to the events of that day. So, it's not a surprise to me that as I listened to the announcement this evening, my heart turned toward those with whom I journey, and the many, many others who were hearing and beginning the process of hearing, assimilating and responding to this news. 

 

As a Christian spiritual director, it is my priviledge and responsibility to hold a prayerful space for others as they encounter God and are drawn into a redemption of their truest selves. While it would seem that this holy listening might not include either mundane moments or world events, the truth is that God is speaking and working through all things—not just the things that we think are "spiritual."

 

This evening, I sit in the tensions that are held in Micah 6:8 (He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.), Proverbs 24:17 (“Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and do not let your heart be glad when he stumbles.”), Ezekiel 18:23 (Do you think I take any pleasure in the death of wicked men and women? Isn't it my pleasure that they turn around, no longer living wrong but living right—really living?) and Matthew 5:43-45 (You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.) These are my personal tensions, and I believe they are the uncomfortable but important intersections of justice and mercy. In them, I sit in my unknowing, clinging to the Cross and the knowledge that my thoughts are not God's thoughts.

 

In the same way, as a director, I hold my own perceptions and tensions lightly and with grace. They may not be the spaces in which my directees now sit—each has his or her own story. Some are active duty members of the military, some work actively with peace movements. Some lost friends in the attacks of 9/11, some were simply devastated by the losses of others. In each of these spaces, the impact of world events such as this evening's events reverberate differently.

 

As anam cara, my ears are attuned to the whispers of the Spirit—not in this announcement or any other world event—but in how those events are echoing into the soul of the person before me. What might be the fresh invitation of God to that soul as he or she experiences the emotions and reactions to this event? Where might God be showing His love more deeply, or calling forth specific action?

 

For many, today's events bring with them a seed of something that may not germinate for some time to come. The questions and reflections may be premature, or there may be other soul work to be done before the time is right to consider what the message of these moments may be. At the same time, the impact of the president's announcement should not be either minimized or aggrandized—there has been an important shift in the global political stories around us, and for some there has been no shift at all.

 

As one who directs, holding space for world events to enter into the direction session is vital to who I am, what I do and what I believe. God is at work in all of the aspects of our lives, bringing redemption, mercy, justice, truth and, most of all, love. These moments in time are an invitation to attention, to be truly present to what is going on in and around us. These are the liminal moments of transformation that bear within them the seeds of change and hope.

 

So… whether you're reading this on the evening of May 1, 2011, or at any other time, I invite you to some attention and reflection, to mindfulness in the face of this particular world event.

 

First, take a few deep, slow breaths. Become aware of yourself, aware of how you feel as you sit before your computer or phone. Notice if there is anything particular happening in your body—is there a knot in your stomach or your throat? Do you feel stiff or tense anywhere? 

 

Gently breathe into those spaces.

 

When you're ready, consider meditating on or journaling with the following questions. If you would like, you can spend time with all of them or you can simply answer the question that you are most drawn to.

 

1. When I first heard the news that Osama bin Laden was dead, what was my primary emotion? Relief? Anxiety? Pleasure? Sadness? Some other emotion?

 

What might this emotion be revealing to me about myself? About others? About God?

 

2. Was there a particular response made by those around me that was either strongly disturbing or strongly encouraging? What might my responses to others be revealing to me about my areas of attachment? What might Christ be inviting me to in regards to the particular person who made that remark?

 

3. Christ's sacrifice on the Cross bring the terrible and beautiful intersection of justice and mercy into vivid detail. Is there an aspect of the story of the Crucifixion that resonates with you as you contemplate the news announced by President Obama?

 

4. The passages mentioned above (Micah 6:8, Proverbs 24:17, Ezekiel 18:23 and Matthew 5:43-45) all invite us into loving people whom we can legitimately call our enemies. God doesn't ask us to call them anything other than what they are—but He does call us to love them. What were your primary reactions as you read those passages? Were there any images, colors, smells or sounds that stood out to you when you read or heard them? Spend some time with God reflecting honestly on His words and your reactions. If you don't like what He's saying in these passages, feel free to tell Him that. Be authentic. Speak from the heart. When you have had a chance to react, enter into silence for at least 5 minutes. Notice your interior state after you've had this discussion with God. Listen for the still, small voice and the revelation of God's love and movement—through the Scriptures, through your dialogue with Him, and in His movements in the silence.

The Rest of Rest

Having spent the last week or so sick and alternately in bed or tottering around to my various commitments, I've had some time to think about rest. Add to this the ethos of this season, this dig-deep-place of Advent, and rest has been hard to avoid.

Oh, but avoid it we (and I) do.

One of the first things that I ask a new directee is about their sleeping habits. While that may seem a little bit outside of my purview as a spiritual director, I hold by the truth that, at least in North America, the number one enemy of spiritual growth is exhaustion. Last year, my lovely small group went through James Bryan Smith's The Good And Beautiful God: Falling In Love With the God Jesus Knows. Do you know what the first spiritual discipline Mr. Smith had us practice was?

Sleep.

Yes, sleep. The exercise involved picking a day (and enlisting help if necessary) where we could stay in bed until we were entirely sick of being in bed.

As a culture, we're so focused on being in control, accomplishing, making things happen. Rest and sleep are almost seen as defeat. Especially this time of year, when there so much to do, buy, arrange, bake, wrap, cook, send and give.

We often quote, "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength" from Isaiah 30:15, but no one seems to finish the verse. The last few words get left off… "but you would have none of it."

We like the idea, but we don't like being called to the carpet by God when we're not living the truth.

Well, I've been called to the carpet this past week. In the rest that my body as been forced into, I've been reminded that I'm not in control, that God is truly good, even if my circumstances seem snotty. And that, especially during Advent, God is reminding me, and the rest of His bride, that His rest is what He requires of us. We can wait on Him and rest in Him—He's trustworthy.

So how about it? Can you take up the challenge to choose rest this Advent season?

 

 

Further Resources:

The Rest of God by Mark Buchanan

The Good & Beautiful God by James Bryan Smith

Of Hubris, Hope and Telling A Better Story

If you've stood in line at a grocery store anywhere in the United States in the past week, you're probably aware of the story that's captured the world's attention for this moment and, I suspect, a few more moments to come. While it may be replaced now and again by more pressing current events, I expect that we'll all be hearing a great deal about Prince William and Kate Middleton's upcoming nuptuals through the week of their wedding, currently set to occur on April 29, 2011.

I've had a few friends complain bitterly and sometimes caustically about not only this story, but about the role of the British monarchy in general. Words like "disgusting", "hubris", "anachronism", "inbred" and "leeches" have been used. Being a British citizen myself, it might be easy (and believe me, it's been a temptation) to become defensive or even antagonistic in response. I've taken some time, though, and asked God what's going on—both within myself and within the reactions of others—that He'd like to talk about. While I don't even pretend to be God's voice on the issue, I do think there are a few things going on that can teach us about the story God's telling and our hearts within it.

On the eve of Advent, I know that I am longing for a fresh start and, paradoxically, a reminder of the His-story of which I'm a part. I suspect I'm not alone in this. In fact, I suspect that whether you would call yourself a person of faith or not, you're longing for a fresh start as well. It's been a rough few years, globally. Economic downturns, political polarization and name-calling, unstable global politics, and a sense of distrust for our leaders has created an environment of fear and, sadly, despair. Good people are going through difficult times. Hard work, prayer, and just 'pulling yourself up by your bootstraps' hasn't seemed to produce the results that we would have expected five years ago. While it never was, the world doesn't feel under our control any more, and that brings with it a low-level but pervasive sense of unease.

Do you know the difference between a Shakespearan tragedy and a Shakespearan comedy? Some would say death toll is the determining factor, and while that may be a good measure most of the time, it's not the only factor. Tragedies and comedies can sometimes have equal amounts of bloodshed on and off stage, but comedies end in resolution and, more often than not, they end with a wedding.

I'm sure you get where I'm going here.

With all that's been going on, you've probably been wondering if the story we're living in isn't a tragedy after all. There have been questions, quiet doubts, and outright fist-shaking-at-the-ceiling prayers. Anchored by the Word of God, we know that the story ends differently… but our emotions, and sometimes our hearts, have taken a beating. Those without the plumbline of faith have even greater struggles keeping purpose and hope about them.

Enter stage right: Prince William and his commoner-to-princess fiancée, Kate (who would like you to call her Catherine.) Prince William, tragic Diana's son. Prince William, heir to the throne of England. And Kate, beautiful, intelligent, young and… hopeful.

It's hard to say whether it's William, Kate, or the combination of the two that grab our hearts the most. William's story is one of adventure trumping breeding: rather than take the safe route, he's entered the RAF and flies helicopters, even against the advice of the royal family who would prefer him to be safe. William lost his mother, also a commoner-to-princess story, and has had to manage mourning and the public spotlight. Kate's parents are self-made millionaires, an air traffic controller and flight attendant who made good with a dream and some effort, very little in the way of royal blood to their names. Young, beautiful and dynamic, together the couple are engaging and compassionate. They feel like real people. They could be your cousin, your sister, your son or your best friend.

They could be you.

And that's where the story has us. Why we're enraptured, why we care about something that can feel as anachronistic as royalty. Just like professional sports and players, there's a story going on that echoes of the story that we all care about, the story we all secretly and not so secretly want to believe.

In the story of Kate & William, we're being reminded that this story isn't a tragedy after all. Things may look dire, but there's a wedding to look forward to, and this means that this story's got a comedic ending. Not necessarily one we'll be laughing at as hilariously funny, but one whose punchline will have us smiling and understanding all the twists and turns along the way had to lead us to this point, this happily ever after, this feast.

And what story does that sound like, hmm? What story begins with a wedding and ends with a wedding? (I am, by the way, indebted to John & Stasi Eldredge for first pointing that out, or at least first pointing that out to me.) It's God's story, echoing into our own, giving us reason to hope that things are going to be right with the world, right with our own story, after all. That God's in control, and the ending is going to be more beautiful than we'd hoped. Instead of just getting by, we're going to get more that: we're going to be adopted into royalty, given a title, a crown, and called heir to the throne (the real Throne, the path to which is the real Cross). Our suffering will have mattered, and there's a wedding feast at the end of things to celebrate the most royal of all weddings: that of the Lamb of God.

Whether you like the royal family or not (and, in interests of full disclosure, I will say I happen to like them), we need our stories. In difficult times, we need hope, and we need to remember. Yes, there are important things that resources can and should be spent on other than royal weddings or Super Bowls or all the other things that remind us that our story is epic after all.

The story of Prince William and Catherine may not be God's story, but it is one that He is using to echo, to re-awaken, to remind people of the Larger Story. He is using it to offer hope, and to deepen our longings enough that we might be brought back once again to the One who has already called us His royal priesthood, His heirs, His children.

Understanding The Church Year

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On the long list of things that I would like to blog about is the Church Calendar, and why it is important to our spirituality. While some would say it’s because I’m an Anglican that I care so deeply about liturgy, I believe that it’s because I’m a spiritual director and I’ve seen (again and again) how our calendars rule our lives.

The folks over at Internet Monk (bless them) have taken up the charge in a wonderful post today that talks about the value and shape of the Church Year. I’ll be following along this week as they explain and expand more on each of their points, but they make five important statements about the value and purpose of the the Church Calendar. I encourage you to read along.

Friday Favorite: Somewhere More Holy

As a contemplative, and one who finds a great deal of value in reading the spiritual classics (and well-written novels), it’s rare that I find myself recommending a more contemporary author in the area of spiritual non-fiction. Yes, there are good memoirs out there. Yes, there are good, if somewhat popcorn-like, books on the spiritual life. In some ways, I find “spiritual life” books to be the equivalent of ‘chick lit’ for the soul. Enjoyable, but not about to create much thought, let alone much change. That doesn’t come out of a place of cynicism (Kyrie eleison), but rather a realization that as a culture we’re not all that interested that often in chewing our food.

Further, I’m really not one to recommend a book that I haven’t all-the-way read yet. I take my recommendations seriously. No one pays me for them, and I want to make sure that I’m being responsible with how I suggest my readers, friends and directees spend their very precious time.

Somewhere Which all leads up to a Friday Favorite that is somewhat of a surprise and a trend-bucking joy to me. I’m currently near the end of a hurry-up-and-buy-it-now book called Somewhere More Holy: Stories from a Bewildered Father, Stumbling Husband, Reluctant Handyman and Prodigal Son. It is one of the best spiritual memoirs/God-hunting/yearning for the sacred books I’ve read in a long time. I’ve gotten what I ever so cheesily call “Wild Goose bumps” on my arms by an arresting, beautiful, convicting or sacred thought in every single chapter of Tony Woodlief’s touching story.

I’m enjoying it so much, I’ve been using excerpts as meditations in spiritual direction sessions. I’ve been reading parts of it to friends over dinner. I’ve been whispering chapters to my husband while we lay in bed reading.

Somewhere More Holy takes a look at the concept of home and family, and re-sacrelizes them. The author writes for the Wall Street Journal and WORLD, among others. Through his own story, he ushers us back into a world where home meant something sacred, and what we do in the home matters.

You can pick up a copy of Tony’s book here. You can also read more about Somewhere More Holy at the website dedicated to the book. And if you’re interested in more of his writing, you can check out Tony Woodlief’s website here.

A Letter To The North American Churches

If you haven't seen or read this recent letter by artist and creative Makoto Fujimara, you definitely should.

 

A Letter to North American Churches

This was delivered at the Eighth Letter Conference for the Epiphaneia group in Toronto.  The presenters were asked to write a letter to the churches of North America in the style of the Revelation letters in the New Testament.  The full version will be published in their anthology in 2011.

 

Dear Churches of North America

 

I speak to you as an artist.

 

An artist’s relationship with you has not been easy;  we are often in the margins of your communities, being the misfits that we are. Artists often sit in the back, if they come to church at all, wear black and look menacing to you.  But many of us, actually, sit in the front, we volunteer, and are first to be with the poor. You just don’t notice us.  Some of us are even up in front preaching, and you call us pastors, but we consider ourselves really artists of the Word.  Some of us are crusading against the wrongs of the world, and we can get attentions of the “Kings” of this world because our songs are so popular. 

 

Read the rest of this letter here.