Category: Creative Living

I Call Myself a Poet

By Cynthia Johnson-Oliver April 30, 2020

I call myself a poet.

I call myself a poet in the way that my 7-year old daughter calls herself a doctor. She wears a lab coat with a real pink stethoscope around her neck while examining her patients (usually one of us) and “researching” in science books. She’s been planning ahead. When she was 5 years old, she asked if there will be recess in medical school and was more surprised than disappointed when we said no. She also asked if we could buy her an x-ray machine. We declined. She was more disappointed about that. Most of us call her actions play, but in a way, she is also calling those things that are not as though they are.

I call myself a poet even though I have not yet published a poem. I have only taken one graduate course in poetry. I don’t write nearly enough. The spoken word stage frightens me (which is odd since I’ve been preaching since age 19). And I’m hesitant to share my work. I call myself a poet because in my heart, I know that I am one. Whether reading, memorizing, reciting, dreaming, or writing, poetry has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and I know that it will be an important part of my life for years to come. Like my daughter, it is not merely who I want to become, but it is already who I am, already within me waiting to mature, grow, and ripen in its season.

Thus, when I decided that 2020 would be the year that I took this calling seriously, I immediately thought of Rainer Maria Rilke’s exhortation in his Letters to a Young Poet. Written in response to an aspiring poet who asks for Rilke’s feedback, rather than critique his poetry, Rilke advises,

“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write…. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must”, then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.”

Rilke’s words have resonated with me at different times along my journey. They are a reminder to take seriously the “I must” areas of my life, whether love, family, or vocation. The words serve as a challenge for me to remember that some things don’t just happen. The guidance to “build your life” is an invitation to a daily and hourly commitment, a call to even our most indifferent hour to witness in some way to that which we must do.

This year, I looked within for the deep answer. I acknowledged that I must write. I felt that writing may be a matter of life or death — not necessarily in a dramatic way. Rather, it is a realization that we die a little inside each time we ignore the truth of who we are. To the poet, poetry is life.

But I am going a step further. This is also the year that I build my life in accordance with this necessity, not only for poetry writing but also for blogging and for my nonfiction writing project. Over the past month, I have been releasing those things that occupy too much space in my heart and mind. I am rearranging my life for this creative calling.

Therefore, on this last day of National Poetry Month, I am sharing my intention with you. The timing may be later in the month, and in life, for such a new declaration. But I embrace this second act knowing that life has its own wisdom and timing. Today is a great day to begin anew. Thus, I am committing to more poetry – reading more, learning more, writing more, and submitting more. Taking Rilke’s advice, I will try not to worry too much about the outcome – what other’s think – but I will focus on the process. I will write because I must.

Thank you for visiting my blog. For more of my journey, subscribe below and follow me on Twitter and Instagram @cjohnsonoliver. Click here to learn more about my nonfiction work in progress.

Creative Living FaithJustice Blog Spiritual Growth Vocation+Purpose

Contemplation and Action For Social Justice

By Cynthia Johnson-Oliver March 30, 2020

[Note: This post first appeared on the FaithJustice Foundation blog]

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

– Luke 4:18-19

[What can the season of Lent teach us about social justice? This re-post was the first in a series of reflections based on Luke 4:18-19. To find an answer, I believe we can look to these words of Jesus found in the fourth chapter of the Gospel of Luke. The text is found immediately following Jesus’ forty days in the desert, the passage most associated with the 40 days of Lent. Jesus uplifts these words, read from the prophet Isaiah, as an introductory statement of his public ministry. In the passage, Jesus speaks words of anointing, of good news, of release from captivity, of recovery from blindness, of freedom from oppression, of favor, hope, and justice. After reading, he proclaims “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”]

The fourth chapter of the Gospel of Luke begins with Jesus, “full of the Holy Spirit… led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil.” For six weeks, he spent time in solitude – fasting, praying, and preparing for the work that was ahead. After this period, he returned to Galilee, again “filled with the power of the Spirit” where reports of his ministry spread throughout the country. To introduce his ministry, Jesus enters a synagogue and reads from Isaiah 61, a post-exilic text written during a time of suffering and disenchantment. In Isaiah, the prophet proclaims that he is anointed by the Lord to bring good news to those who are oppressed. Jesus announces that today, this scripture is fulfilled in him. In making this announcement immediately following his time in the wilderness, Jesus offers a master class on the connection between contemplation and action. We who follow Jesus are invited to take note.

Beloved, I have a concern about our social justice activism. I fear that we have come to associate social justice with action only. Our rhetoric that challenges us to “get out of the pews” and “go outside of the four walls of the church” is well intended, but it risks separating the inner spiritual disciplines of prayer, fasting, and solitude from the outer ones of service and action.* This bifurcation leads to a few unfortunate tendencies.

“Social justice action, when rooted and grounded in contemplation, can be more meaningful, more inspired, and therefore more impactful.”

Firstly, those among us who crave action may lose sight of the self-care offered through contemplative practices. At a time when we have a 24-hour news cycle that depicts injustices meted out daily, our need for rapid responses can result in burnout for social justice advocates. In times like these, a rich inner life can offer balance through prayer, silence, Sabbath-keeping, and mindfulness as opportunities for rest and refreshment. These contemplative practices offer balance that can strengthen us for the long haul needed to create systemic change.

Secondly, we social justice activists prioritize action over inaction; therefore, contemplative practices tend to get lost among those of us who want to just “do something.” However, there are many great spiritual leaders who have taught us that an inner life of contemplation provides a solid foundation for an outer life of action. Our greatest social justice advocates across religious traditions have been a living witness to this, from Mahatma Ghandi to Thich Nhat Hanh and from Dietrich Bonhoeffer to Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Social justice action, when rooted and grounded in contemplation, can be more meaningful, more inspired, and therefore more impactful.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Thich Naht Hanh – Their meeting inspired King to take a stand against the Vietnam War.

Thirdly, we tend to categorize discipleship as study while categorizing mission and social justice as service and action. We see these categories in our church ministries and committees. We make this distinction despite the fact that study needs to be a first step in preparing to help the communities and issues for which we want to take action. Sometimes we are ready to take action without adequate information, create slogans but not strategies, join protests without policy demands. As a result, sometimes our help isn’t truly helpful, offering band-aids to communities that need surgery to stop the bleeding. By contrast, a more complete approach recognizes that we need to be disciples/students of social justice in the same way that we are students of prayer, bible study, and other spiritual disciplines. Then we can be prepared to take action that is informed, strategic, and can produce the change we seek.

What if instead of only taking action outside of the church, we are called to also bring social justice into the church? What if we are called to treat social justice as an integral and integrated part of what it means to be disciples, to incorporate social justice in prayer, worship, meditation, as well as study, and then engage in social justice ministry and action? I have said elsewhere that the biblical vision of social justice should be included in any complete and comprehensive discipleship program. This was a major reason for my decision to start the FaithJustice Foundation.

“What if instead of only taking action outside of the church, we are called to also bring social justice into the church?”

The season of Lent offers us the chance to return to the solitude of the wilderness in order to tend to our inner lives, to confront our own demons, to contemplate our calling, to draw deeply from the oasis of the Spirit, to prepare for the work that is ahead. Through the inner life, we are reminded that we have been anointed for a purpose and that preparation is necessary to fulfill that purpose. The Spirit of the Lord anoints us through an inner life of contemplation that prepares us for an outer life of action.

Blessings,

Rev. Cynthia Johnson-Oliver, JD
Founder and President
FaithJustice Foundation

*My views on contemplative practices and spiritual disciplines have been influenced by the writings of Richard Rohr, Richard Foster, Thich Nhat Hanh, Parker Palmer, and many others.

**To learn more about the FaithJustice Foundation, visit www.faithjusticefoundation.org.

Creative Living Discipleship Ministry Spiritual Growth Vocation+Purpose

Commencement: A New Chapter in Ministry

By Cynthia Johnson-Oliver June 17, 2017

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Dear Friends,

Earlier this month, it was announced that this year, my 10th year at Annandale United Methodist Church, would be my last one as an associate pastor. Thus, it is quite fitting that my farewell Clergy Corner is published in our graduation issue. Why? Because I’ve said for many years that I would not leave Annandale as much as I would graduate from Annandale. In many ways, my family and I have grown up here. Thus, this moment is much more of a commencement than it is a departure, and the lessons I have learned here will undoubtedly last a lifetime. Here are a few of those lessons.

Be visionary. When I arrived at Annandale, I had not worked in several years due to a disability. I had not preached in three years, and I had not climbed stairs in many more. From my first visit to Annandale, for reasons not fully understood at the time, I began envisioning myself climbing the steps into the pulpit and preaching a sermon. I did not know anyone at the church, nor did I know of any job openings. I just had an intuition that AUMC was where I should be.

Within five months of my arrival, unbeknownst to me, the church had created the position, director of adult discipleship. I happened to meet with Pastor Jim Driscoll the day after the job description was approved by the Church Council. When I expressed interest in adult Christian education, Jim’s chin dropped in surprise. They never had the chance to post that job description; I was hired soon thereafter. A year later, I became an associate pastor. From that, I have learned that your dreams matter. Your visions matter. Visualization was a powerful tool for me; but alone, it was not enough.

Be creative. As beings created in the image of God, we reflect God’s image especially when we are creative. As co-creators with God, we possess the ability to create our lives and indeed, to create our world. And we exercise this creativity whether we acknowledge it or not. Look around you. Look at your life. This is the life that you have created. When we recognize our responsibility for the life we have created, we also unleash our power to create something new.

When I began working at AUMC, the Academy of Discipleship existed only as a vision in the mind of church leadership. Beyond visioning, we had to create. Today, in its 10th year, the Academy’s classes and small groups continue to thrive. Now, I am graduating from Annandale with the intention of pursuing even bigger creative projects. The first and second projects are a biography and documentary film about my grandfather, who was the first African American to graduate from Vanderbilt University. The third project is the FaithJustice Foundation, a newly forming nonprofit organization born from my ministry here at AUMC. These projects require the courage to create, to reflect God’s image by calling those things which are not as though they are, and to bring a vision from idea to existence. This brings me to my next point.

Be bold. In A Return to Love, Marianne Williamson says:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world…. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

Living my life has required boldness — from my first decision to live my best life despite physical challenges, to my willingness to explore faith and social justice as an African America woman pastor in a predominantly white church, to my courage to form a nonprofit, and to my boldness in trying something completely new: narrative nonfiction writing and documentary film. One bold step strengthened me to take the next step. I realized that in taking a risk, there was something to lose, but there was always much more to gain by abandoning my comfort zone and boldly co-creating the life I am called to live.

Be you. I had plenty of reasons to attempt to be someone else, and they were mostly rooted in the same fears and insecurities that many possess. There was a time when I wanted to be like my grandfather who lived an extraordinary life. There was a time when I thought that I should copy my fellow Ivy League graduates and pursue the traditional markers of success. But those paths never felt right to me. Then one day, I realized that I could be something that no one else could be. I could be me. And I could do a better job at being me than I could at trying to be someone else.

It took an uncomfortable path of self-discovery for me to realize that my gifts and talents, flaws and imperfections, hopes and dreams all combine to form a unique individual created in the image of the divine, God’s workmanship. And like all of creation, God looks at me and says, “That’s good!” To paraphrase the story told by Rabbi Zusya, when I get to heaven, God won’t ask me why I wasn’t more like Moses or Peter or Mary. God will simply ask why I wasn’t more like Cynthia. God created you and me, and we have every reason to believe that God knew what God was doing.

As I reach this milestone, along with our graduates, I, too, graduate and commence the next steps of my journey. I do so not expecting that life will be perfect, but that God will lead me in the right paths. I got out of my AUMC experience exactly what I put into it: my heart. When living whole-heartedly, all things are possible. And that brings me to my final point: indeed, for the lessons learned, for the loving kindness you have shown to my family and for the joy of sharing Christ with you, I will always be grateful.

Blessings,

Rev. Cynthia Johnson-Oliver

The following sources influenced the ideas reflected in this essay:
Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity (2002)
Jack Canfield, The Success Principles (2015)
Joel Osteen, Your Best Life Now (2015)
Richard Rohr, Immortal Diamond: The Search for our True Self (2012)
Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love (1996).

Creative Living Spiritual Growth

Transfiguration and Transformation

By Cynthia Johnson-Oliver February 16, 2015

And Jesus was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. – Mark 9:2c-3

And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit. – 2 Corinthians 3:18

The season of Lent is always preceded by Transfiguration Sunday in the liturgical calendar. On this Sunday, we read the Gospel passages that recount the transfiguration of Jesus, when Jesus appeared on the mountain in dazzling white clothing, alongside Moses and Elijah. It is a miraculous, life-changing moment, particularly for the disciples who witness the event and become certain that Jesus is the Messiah. Nevertheless, those disciples must depart from the mountain and resume the daily work of spiritual growth and ministry even as Jesus speaks of dark days ahead.

This reminds me of the transition from Transfiguration Sunday to the Season of Lent. The dazzling white of transfiguration is followed by the black soot of Ash Wednesday. The faithful begin a more earnest focus on the spiritual disciplines of prayer, fasting, study of scripture, and service. Churches, including my own, offer Lenten studies, prayer groups, weekly services, quiet days, and fasts. Through these practices, many hope to develop a spirituality that transfigures and transforms us into our highest selves.

As we enter this season of Lent, I have a few reflections on developing a transformative spirituality.

Spiritual transformation is not achieved by trying but by training.

This concept comes from our church’s Lenten study from 2015, John Ortberg’s The Life You’ve Always Wanted: Spiritual Disciplines for Ordinary People. Ortberg presents spiritual disciplines as the path to transformation. He uses the illustration of an athlete who wants to run a marathon. The athlete could simply wait until the day of the race and try to run the marathon or she could train regularly in the months and weeks leading up to the race. Obviously that latter approach would yield the better result. The same is true in numerous pursuits, whether athletic, academic, or artistic. Excellence is achieved, not by trying, but by training and consistent practice. The same is also true of spiritual growth. As Paul instructs Timothy, “Train yourself in godliness, for, while physical training is of some value, godliness is valuable in every way” (2 Tim 4:7-8). Spiritual disciplines, practiced regularly, train us to listen for God’s voice in every aspect of our lives, transforming us into the people God created us to be.

Spiritual disciplines are means of grace through which we become open to God’s transforming

I like this sentence not only because it is true, but also because it makes me a good Methodist! John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, included attending the means of grace, as the third of his three general rules. He emphasized the spiritual disciplines of public worship and sacrament, private and family prayer, bible study, and fasting. Other spiritual disciplines include meditation, solitude, guidance, and service. According to Bishop Reuben Job, in Three Simple Rules, “Spiritual disciplines keep us in that healing, redeeming presence and power of God that forms and transforms each of us more and more into the image of the One we seek to follow.” For some, the word “discipline” may inspire guilt or judgment, as though we are being graded on our spiritual lives. Try to see them, instead, as spiritual practices that open the door to experiencing God’s love (not judgment) and grace (not guilt).

Transfiguration happens on the mountain, but transformation happens in the valley.

Many people have had mountaintop experiences or special encounters with the Divine. These experiences can be life-changing, even miraculous, as God is revealed in new ways. But the true work of transformation begins after the mountaintop, in the valley of life’s complexities and difficulties. There, we must daily choose to develop spiritual habits that will develop our character over quick fixes and instantly gratifying solutions. These may feel like thankless tasks. Transformation takes place inside the chrysalis, when no one is watching, where the hard work of growth and development occurs. Compare the runner who does not receive a medal for waking up before dawn to run five miles every morning. Consider the musician who receives no award for practicing scales. Both, however, are better prepared for performance day because of their steady, persistent preparation. Likewise, spiritual disciplines are the hidden works that, over time, lead us to a closer walk with God and prepare us to answer our calling and fulfill our life purpose.

During this season of Lent, choose one or two spiritual disciplines to develop. Commit to consistent practice over the next 40 days. Let us together experience a spirituality that transfigures and transforms.

Creative Living Spiritual Growth

Try Again

By Cynthia Johnson-Oliver October 1, 2014

By Barry haynes (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

There are moments that stick with you, moments that change your life. These moments are not necessarily major life events, though they can be. Sometimes extraordinary things happen in ordinary life circumstances.

When I was in college and seminary, it was quite customary for a fellow student to give me the audio tape of a great sermon (before CD’s were popular, if I must date myself). We aspired to become great preachers ourselves, and we delighted in, and often emulated the excellent preaching of our role models.

This happened once during the summer after my first year of seminary. On the outside things looked great: I was a Harvard graduate, in graduate school, with a great summer job, and driving my first car. The internal life was a different story. I had just experienced a difficult year of growing pains, a tough year in my first ministry position, and the early signs of health challenges to come. I was depleted, confused, and wondering if I was on the right path. I even considered not returning to seminary.

Then, the ordinary happened. A dear friend of mine loaned me her audio tapes from a recent women’s conference. On a Saturday morning, with a bowl of cereal in my hand, I pressed the play button.

The tapes contained many great sermons, one of which was delivered by Rev. Dr. Carolyn Ann Knight. It was titled “Try Again.” Her message was based on the familiar account, from the Gospel of Luke, of Jesus in the fishing boat with Simon Peter. Jesus, after being followed by crowds who want to hear the word of God, gets into the boat belonging to Simon Peter and teaches the crowds from the boat. Then, after Simon Peter’s ordinary night of fishing:

When [Jesus] had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” ⁵Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”⁶When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. ⁷So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. ⁸But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” ⁹For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken;¹⁰and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” ¹¹When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him. (Luke 5:4-11)

It has been some time since I heard the sermon, but I remember that Dr. Knight eloquently preached about how life is filled with nights in which we have given all that we can and feel as though we have caught nothing. In the electric style that typifies African American preaching, she exhorted the congregation to “Try again!” She reminded that you can’t catch big fish in shallow water; you have to launch out into the deep. And when you come up short, try again!

I’m pretty sure that a little milk splattered as I tossed aside my cereal bowl and had a Holy Spirit moment in my subleased apartment. Dr. Knight’s words, though homiletically excellent, were much more than that. Spiritually, they were exactly what I needed to hear at that time in my life. I knew from then on what I would do that next year. I would try again.

But her sermon rang true not just that year. Seventeen years later, I still remember her words. I remembered them when a project did not work out. Try again. I recalled them as I adjusted to life with a chronic illness. Try again. I repeat those words in physical therapy. Try again. I remind myself of those words as I submit my poetry for publication. Try again.

Currently, I am launching out into the deep. I am researching and writing a book about my grandfather, Bishop Joseph A. Johnson, Jr., the first African American to graduate from Vanderbilt University. At times I am overwhelmed by the project. But most of the time I am excited. I believe in going after the big fish. I believe in both the challenges and the blessings of launching into deep water. Moreover, I believe that God is with me in the boat. And when I encounter obstacles along the way, I am prepared to try again.

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[Note: This post first appeared on the FaithJustice Foundation blog]

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