Category: Spiritual Growth

Scattering Seeds – Part 1

Discipleship Ministry Spiritual Growth Vocation+Purpose

Scattering Seeds – Part 1

[I had the privilege of serving as Online Chaplain at Forma Conference 2023 | Called to Covenant. Forma, a ministry of Lifelong Learning at Virginia Theological Seminary, is an ecumenical network of Christian formation professionals for the Episcopal Church and beyond. These short homilies were delivered at Online Morning Worship on January 18-19, 2023.]

“Again he began to teach beside the sea. Such a very large crowd gathered around him that he got into a boat on the sea and sat there, while the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. He began to teach them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on a path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.” And he said, “If you have ears to hear, then hear!””

Mark 4:1-9

“A sower went out to sow.” In Mark chapter 4, Jesus teaches through a series of parables using common themes of Galilean society to illustrate the kingdom of God. In his parables, we often see contrasts. Here we see a hidden message and revealed meaning. We see public speech and private instruction. We see lost seed and bountiful harvest. Through these contrasts, Jesus, an itinerant Galilean preacher, illustrates the kingdom with the power of planting seeds. And although the parable focuses on the seed, I think it’s worthwhile to focus on the sower.

A sower went out to sow. And if you will allow me to disrupt the language, as she sowed, some seeds fell on the path. Some fell on rocky ground. Some seeds fell among thorns. Some fell into good soil.

She is a diligent sower. She keeps sowing despite the challenging environment of the ground. She has little control over the environment. But she has control over her power to plant seeds. She is also a non-judgmental sower. She doesn’t judge the ground or scold the ground. Scholars disagree with whether the sower prepared the soil or whether the context is before plowing techniques were available, but either way, she keeps scattering seeds. She doesn’t know where the seed will take root, so she keeps to her task. The sower doesn’t receive much attention. The text mentions her at the beginning, the parable is even named after her, but the focus is the ground in which the seeds land. But she’s not worried about attention. She simply knows for sure that the seed can’t grow if it’s not scattered. Her focus is to scatter the seeds.

When I think about the work of Christian formation, I think it is the ministry of planting seeds. We plant seeds despite having little control over the lives of those who enter our ministries. We scatter seeds even though it sometimes seems like a thankless task. We scatter seeds hopefully without judgment about the receptivity of the ground because we never know where it will take root. We plant seeds among young people who face challenges we never even considered possible, thorns of social media bullying, school shootings, and even a global pandemic. Sometimes we can only pray that the thorns don’t overwhelm them, but still, we must keep planting seeds.

Scattering seeds takes a tremendous amount of patience. The sower takes an action now knowing whether all the factors will be favorable to producing a crop. As the days and weeks go by, she may get discouraged wondering if there will be a crop. She probably sees the presence of a crop as the measure of her success. But what if there is an alternate view?

What if the measure of our success is not in the size of the crop? What if our success is determined by whether we have planted the seeds? In some cases, we won’t see the outcome of our efforts. The win is in scattering the seeds.

Photo Credit: FatCamera for Canva

I would go further and say that the measure of our success is not how many children show up or how many volunteers we recruit or how many adults sign up for a small group study. Success is not even measured in whether our programs are perfect, or parents are assuaged, or leadership recognizes our efforts. Rather perhaps the question we should ask at the end of the day is, “Did I plant some seeds?”

Christian formation requires us to take the long view. Some plant the seeds. Others water. And God gives the increase. But it all starts with our willingness to keep scattering seeds.

I remember when I was nine years old, my father was the pastor of a CME (black Methodist) church in Jackson, Tennessee. One Sunday, I went to children’s church and saw an animated video about Jesus. At some point during the video, as I listened intently to the Bible story, my heart felt strangely warmed, to use the words of John Wesley. And like him, I felt that I trusted Christ. I didn’t understand why the video brought tears to my eyes, nor did I understand when I shared my experience with my teacher and my parents, why it brought tears to their eyes. Looking back, I know that they were witnessing that the seed had been planted. I was 9 years old, so that seed had to survive puberty and adolescence. It had to survive teenage rebellion and the untimely death of my father at age 14. But at some point in college, I discerned the call to ministry as that early seed began to blossom. Now, when I was a child, my denomination wasn’t even ordaining many women. That children’s teacher could not have anticipated my ministry. But that was not needed for her success. Her success was her willingness to plant the seed.

If you ever feel discouraged, if you feel the isolation or thanklessness that can characterize formation ministry. I encourage you to take the long view. You can’t really know the receptivity of the ground. You may never know all the fruits of your labor. Our calling is to be the sower. Our calling is to plant the seeds.

Plant seeds of doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. Plant seeds of faith, hope, and love. Plant seeds of encouragement to build up those in our care. Plant seeds in diverse ground without judging the soil. Plant seeds in good times and bad, plant them day to day and week to week. Remember that our power, indeed our ministry, is in our willingness to plant seeds.

Tomorrow, we’ll hear more about nurturing the seeds within us, but today, find victory in planting seeds.

Click here to read Nurturing Seeds – Part 2.

Featured Image Photo Credit: Esolla for Canva

Nurturing Seeds – Part 2

Discipleship Ministry Spiritual Growth Vocation+Purpose

Nurturing Seeds – Part 2

[I had the privilege of serving as Online Chaplain at Forma Conference 2023 | Called to Covenant. Forma, a ministry of Lifelong Learning at Virginia Theological Seminary, is an ecumenical network of Christian formation professionals for the Episcopal Church and beyond. These short homilies were delivered at Online Morning Worship on January 18-19, 2023.]

26 He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle because the harvest has come.”

30 He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31 It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth, 32 yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

Mark 4:26-32 NRSV

 It takes quite a bit of time and effort to go from seed to bread. Today we continue in the fourth chapter of the Gospel of Mark on the theme of planting seeds.

The narrative structure of this Markan chapter begins with the parable of the sower, moves into a discussion of parables, then follows with an explanation of this parable. In today’s passage, there is a brief interlude of various sayings of Jesus (almost seemingly out of place) before Jesus returns to the sower, and concludes with the parable of the mustard seed.

Yesterday, we focused on the sower. We noted that she is a diligent, consistent, nonjudgmental sower. We discussed that the measure of her success is not in the size of the crop but in her power and willingness to plant seeds. We discussed that Christian formation is the ministry of planting seeds. But today, I want to talk less about sowing for others and discuss the seed that is planted within you. Are you nurturing a seed? Is there a dream or vision that you’ve planted but hasn’t come to fruition? Or perhaps a seed that you’ve wanted to plant but have not because it may not work or I’m too busy or… Today’s main point of reflection is this: as you sow seeds in others, don’t forget to nurture the seed within you. There are at least three points that we can draw from today’s text.

First, it takes time and effort to go from seed to bread. In today’s text, the sower scatters seed on the ground. But this time, she sleeps and rises night and day waiting for the seed to grow. She does not know how, but somehow, the earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. Then she harvests the grain. The text concludes the process there, but we know that she still doesn’t have bread. She must grind the grain to make meal, add ingredients to make dough, bake the dough in order to make bread. It takes time, it takes effort, but the reward is great and the bread can feed a multitude. If you’re nurturing a seed within yourself, the lesson in today’s text is to stick with it. Keep going. Somewhere between time and effort, mystery intervenes. We often don’t know how, but we do know that it comes to pass. Some scholars suggest that the sower is passive in the passage. She just sleeps and rises. But we know the effort it takes to plant seeds, nurture it, and prepare for harvest. Stick with it. Be willing to plant the seed and nurture it within you.

Miracle of Bread and Fish by Anyka

Second, great potential often has small beginnings. Jesus’ next parable compares the kingdom of God to a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that birds can build nests. Jesus would know about small, humble beginnings – a babe born in a stable in Bethlehem to a young mom becomes the greatest Sower of all. The issue is that seeds are merely potential. Seeds have the potential to produce life, to produce fruit or grain. God only gives us potential. It’s up to us to nurture the seed.

Third and finally, you are called, even obligated to nurture your seed. I wonder why the Gospel writer places these several sayings of Jesus in this discourse about seeds. These sayings of Jesus were circulating during early Christianity. Jesus queries whether a lamp should be put under the bushel basket and not on the lampstand. He exhorts that anything hidden will be exposed; anything secret will come to light. He warns that the measure you give will be the measure you get, and still more will be given you. We’re familiar with the encouragement to place the light on the lampstand. Matthew places it in the sermon on the mount. But in this text, we see that what the lampstand, the grain, and the seed all have in common is the ability to reach many. Light on the lampstand travels at the speed of light and shines for all to see. A single grain, when sown, can make bread to feed five thousand, and a mustard seed though miniscule, produces a vast, sometimes even uncontrollable plant. We nurture our seed because, though small, we never know the impact it may have.

At the beginning of chapter 3, Jesus preaches in the Synagogue. By chapter 4, Jesus is preaching to crowds gathered by the sea. Scholars have suggested that in the synagogue, Jesus interacted with religious leaders, social elite — the high church folks in modern terms. But by the sea, Jesus reached the people we would call the unchurched – fishermen, laborers, women, the poor, the afflicted, the sinners. His willingness to step out of the synagogue and go by the sea spread his message throughout Galilee.

You never know the impact of that seed growing within you. Dr. King, who we recently celebrated, planted seeds of racial equality, love, and justice. He never envisioned a Barack Obama, but he still nurtured that seed. Pauli Murray, an Episcopal woman priest and fellow Yale Law graduate, was an important advocate for civil rights and gender equality. She never dreamed of a Bishop Michael Curry or a Kamala Harris. But her work may have paved the way for both – all because she nurtured the seed. And, of course, there is the ultimate sower, that itinerant preacher from Galilee, who planted seeds strong enough that we still gather in his name. He is with us ready and able to nurture the seeds within us.

Featured photo: Planting Seeds by Sezeryadigar from Getty Images Signature

Click here to read Scattering Seeds – Part 1.

Creating Justice out of Chaos

FaithJustice Blog Spiritual Growth

Creating Justice out of Chaos

[Sermon, originally titled “Leaping in the Darkness,” given at Trinity Episcopal Church in Arlington, VA on January 10, 2021 – The First Sunday After Epiphany, The Baptism of the Lord Sunday]

1In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good;” 

– Genesis 1-4a (NRSV)

It may have seemed like an instant to God, but it could have been as many as 300,000 years from the time that God said, “Let there be light” to the time that light was able to travel freely in the Universe. Of course, this assumes that God’s commandment was uttered at the time of the big bang, but we really do not know. Creation is typically a matter of theology while the big bang theory is within the study of astrophysics. But if you would permit my progressive mind to harmonize science and theology, we could say that it took 300,000 years from creation to light (when photons could travel freely), 560 million years for the first star to appear, about 1 billion years for the universe to be populated with galaxies and stars, and about 14 billion years, give or take 2,000 for three magi to follow a bright star to where it stopped over the Christ child, on the day we call Epiphany.

A few interesting facts about light… Light is a type of electromagnetic energy, made of tiny photons. Visible light is the segment of the electromagnetic spectrum that the human eye can view. Certain types of light are not visible to the human eye, like ultraviolet light. Humans, like all living creatures, produce a small amount of light as a result of chemical reactions within their cells. We are bioluminescent. One could say that we are literally the light of the world.

Thus, it was nothing short of ironic that on the Day of Epiphany this year, Jan 6, 2021, the day of illumination and revelation when we commemorate the light of Christ found by the Magi that we found, our region, indeed our nation plunged into utter darkness. Violent, chaotic darkness caused by insurrectionists who stormed the United States Capitol. Many even waved the banner of Christ, whom we know as “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God,” in the words of the Nicene Creed, while they spread darkness and chaos throughout our land. We have seen the images, watched with horror and shock, and wondered how do we emerge from this chaos and darkness.

Creation out of Chaos

Photo Credit: Free-Photoos-242387 from Pixabay, Canva.com

How do we make sense of this during our time of worship? Perhaps it is fitting that the Lectionary readings take us to the story of creation on this first Sunday after Epiphany. Perhaps we need to revisit the creation narrative to learn how we might emerge from the darkness in which we find ourselves.

There are two understandings of creation in Genesis 1. The first is represented by the Latin phrase creatio ex nihilo which means creation out of nothing. In this approach God is believed to have created the world out of nothing. God starts with nothing and creates a world. But another understanding of creation is reflected in the Latin phrase creatio ex materia which literally means creation out of matter, but is more commonly known as the ‘creation out of chaos’ theory. It reflects the belief that at the time of creation, there was matter already present, and God took the dark, formless, chaotic matter and created order out of chaos.

Your understanding depends on how you translate Genesis 1. If you translate it, “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth” – creation ex nihilo. But many scholars believe that the Hebrew Bible text is more accurately translated as it is written in your bulletin today, “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep….” Matter was there, but it was formless, void, dark. It was chaos. From this dark, chaotic material, God created the heavens and the earth.

What does this have to do with us today? Well, I can’t speak for anyone here but I know personally that today, I need a God who knows how to create order out of chaos. I need the God who took dark, formless, chaotic matter and from that created sunrises and sunsets, mountains and valleys, oceans and streams, redwoods and dogwoods. Because maybe, just maybe, that God can help us take the dark, chaotic material of our present-day existence and create a world that is more loving, more just, more peaceful, more equal, and more beautiful.

What is the chaos? Before I name it, let me acknowledge the limits of this analogy. God never called the darkness bad (as a preacher friend pointed out to me). God called the light good, but God did not call darkness bad. But we are confronting something different. The darkness we have encountered is an evil, chaotic darkness, and sometimes we need to call evil by its name. We have witnessed the chaotic evil named white supremacy, blatant racism, anti-semitism, xenophobia, and obvious racial bias in policing. We have seen the chaotic evil of misinformation, conspiracy theories, racial disparities in healthcare, and a total failure of leadership that has cost far too many lives during the pandemic. All of this combusted last week in a manner that has threatened our very democracy.

Seeing the Image of God in Everyone

Photo credit: Redrecords from Pexels at Canva.com

How do we move from chaos to creation? I can think of two ways. The first answer is found in another aspect of creation narrative. It is reflected in the Latin phrase imago dei which translates the image of God. It reflects the belief, based on Genesis 1, that humanity was created in the image of God. All of us were created in the image of God. Herein lies the rub. This applies to everyone – those who protest against racial injustice and those who perpetuate it, those whose candidate won and those whose candidate lost, those who were charged with crimes, those who were victims of crimes, and those who are prosecuting crime. This may not be what we want to hear, but we cannot lose sight of this if we want to emerge from this darkness. All of us were created in the image of God.

But this is also a challenge. In every situation of darkness, we have a choice, given to us from the beginning, of whether to contribute to chaos or to contribute to creation. Each of us bears the very image of God and free will, and each of us can choose whether to be chaotic or to be creative. Mary Daly, the great feminist theologian, once said, “It is the creative potential itself that is the image of God.” We possess that creative, luminescent, spark of divinity that allows us to take the dark, chaotic materials of our existence and together create a world that is more just, more loving, and more beautiful.

Ask yourself in every situation, am I contributing to chaos or to God’s creation.  On social media, in political discourse, in my family, community, or world – am I choosing chaos or creation. We must persist in our pursuit of justice. We must insist that people be held accountable. And as people of faith, our added responsibility is that our work for justice must be framed by the loving, creative power of people who reflect the imago dei and look for it in everyone we see.

Remembering Our Baptism; Striving for Justice

Photo Credit: Zelenka, Dave. Baptism of Christ, from Art in the Christian Tradition, Vanderbilt Divinity Library. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56385

This brings me to my second point. Not only are we part of a human family created in the image of God, but we are also part of the fellowship of believers. This first Sunday after Epiphany is also the Baptism of the Lord Sunday. On this day we remember our baptism. We remember the words of the baptism covenant to, among other commitments, “persevere in resisting evil,” “seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself,” “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.”

The baptismal covenant was first initiated by John the Baptist, who preached a baptism of repentance. I believe we are called to follow the prophetic example of John the Baptist and be willing, if necessary, to be the lone voice of one crying in the wilderness. We may need to boldly speak truth to power, call evil by its name, and call our nation to repentance over what it has allowed to transpire.

When we remember our baptism, we follow the example of Christ and love one another, love our enemies, pray for those who persecute us. These ideals seem difficult even in times of relative calm, but in times of chaos they are even more challenging and even more necessary. As Bishop Michael Curry has eloquently challenged, “Love is the way.” It really is.

These tenets form the building blocks of the principles of nonviolence as seen in Jesus, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr., whom we also celebrate this month. In his final book, Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?, Dr. King states, “Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice. Justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love.” He concludes that book by saying, “We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. . . This may well be mankind’s last chance to choose between chaos or community.” I, too, believe in the fierce urgency of now. We must prepare to use the power God has given us to find loving ways to transform chaotic evil into a creative good and to create justice out of chaos.

Leaping in the Darkness

I conclude with a reminder and a hope. This isn’t the first time we meet John the Baptist. We first meet him in the Gospel of Luke when pregnant Mary visits pregnant Elizabeth. The text says, when Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. In the darkness, John leaps. In the place of uncertainty and fear, John leaps. In the place of creation, John leaps. As we worship today, more than anything, I hope that you will find a reason to leap in the darkness. Leap as a sign of hope in a God who can take darkness and turn it to light. Leap with the promise of Emanuel, that even in our darkest days, God is with us. Leap in the spirt of my grandmother’s faith, which said that I may not know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future and I know who holds my hand. Leap with expectation that it may seem dark today, but there is light that we cannot see with the human eye. Leap because the very God who created light and caused it to persist for billions of years to guide us on our journey, that God is present with us to light our way and to help us create justice out of chaos.

Where there is Darkness, Light

Advent Spiritual Growth

Where there is Darkness, Light

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon…where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.”
– Saint Francis of Assisi

It takes several minutes for the eyes to adjust to darkness. It also takes a few minutes to adjust to light. The light reflex in the pupils contracts and expands to adjust the amount of light that reaches the retina. In the retina, cone cells perceive color in bright light while rod cells adapt to darkness. Interestingly, it takes much longer to adjust to complete darkness than it does to adjust to full sunlight. 

This, of course, refers to physical properties of darkness and light. I wonder how long it takes for us to adjust to the darkness in our lives. Metaphorically, darkness and light usually refer to opposing sides of the human experience. Whether in religion or literature, darkness usually connotes evil, sadness, war, and despair. Light usually suggests goodness, joy, peace, and hope. But there appears to be no scientific explanation for how we adjust to metaphorical darkness, how we see our way through the darkest moments in our lives.

This year, we have had to adjust to extended periods of darkness. The catastrophic loss of life from the COVID-19 pandemic, the disproportionate impact on people of color, and the inescapable images of racial injustice and police brutality have all made many of our days darker and our nights more sleepless. Many others have experienced illness, loss of employment, food insecurity, and numerous other challenges. The mental health ramifications have been severe for those who have confronted bereavement, isolation, despair, and fear. For many, this year has been one long dark night of the soul, in the words of St. John of the Cross, a spiritual crisis that tests our faith and makes us question all that we believe.

It is with this backdrop that we entered this season of lights this month in 2020. Advent, in my faith tradition, is a season of waiting and expectation before Christmas. From the Latin word adventus, which means “arrival” or “coming,” it is a time when we rehearse the ancient longing for a Savior. Every year during Advent, we retell the story, quoting the prophet Isaiah and others who speak of coming out of darkness into light. We gather. We light an Advent candle for each of the four weeks, symbolizing hope, love, joy, and peace. We look for a bright star to guide us to the Christ-child. We hold candlelight services on Christmas Eve. We light the Christ candle to symbolize Christ’s entrance into the world. We are people of the light. We walk in the light.

But this year, we are unable to gather, even as the pandemic death toll climbs higher and higher and as poverty and food insecurity impact more families. This year, the darkness threatens to overwhelm us. And we ask, how can we find the light?

Look for the Gift in the Darkness

Photo by Marianne Rixhon from Pexels

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
― Mary Oliver

Before we find the light, let us take a moment to look for the gift in the darkness. I would love to know the story behind poet Mary Oliver’s poignant words. But I don’t have to know her story to know that love and life often give us boxes full of darkness. I immediately think of the death of my mother a few years ago, along with the loss of other beloved family members. I also painfully remember broken relationships, misunderstandings, mistakes, and regrets. I also daily confront my own challenges with autoimmune disease and disability.

We long to leave the darkness, but if we pause just a moment, we discover that there are valuable lessons learned in the darkness. In times of darkness, we often learn new things about ourselves. We learn what we are made of. In the dark, we are often forced to let go of that which can no longer be part of our journey, but therein, new possibilities reveal themselves and lead in new directions. New relationships and new paths are often discovered in the darkness. A life purpose can be found in the midst of darkness. In Chinese philosophy, the concept of Yin and Yang refers to how opposing forces can coexist and actually complement each other. This may explain how insight may be more readily obtained in darkness rather than light. Perhaps it is only in darkness that we can find the light. It is understandable to long for the light, but do not miss the gift that can only be obtained in darkness.

Look Up in the Darkness

Photo: Solstice Conjunction by Kevin Baird, Creative Commons

“The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light”
– Isaiah 9:2a

While writing this post, I took a break and opened my social media apps. I quickly noticed that almost every other post was an image of the night sky. People were pausing from their evening routines to look up in the sky and take pictures. This crazy year that brought us unimaginable suffering is also the same year that Saturn and Jupiter reunite in the night sky for the first time in 800 years, on December 21, the winter solstice. Some of the images are so clear that you can see Saturn’s rings and Jupiter’s moons. In response to the rare conjunction, the hashtag #ChristmasStar is trending. On this, the longest night of the longest year, the brightest ‘star’ appears.

Over 2,000 years after the Magi followed a star, it is still true that looking up can bring us hope. Looking up to something bigger than ourselves, bigger than our circumstances, and bigger than our pain can give us perspective. It can remind us that the universe has a rhythm and synchronicity that we may never fully understand. It can remind us of the mystery that even in darkness, Emanuel, God is with us and God still has a plan.

And just as the planets move in space and time, we know also that this moment too, shall pass. Or as my grandmother used to sing, “Trouble don’t last always.” Like the planets, we too have completed this journey around the sun. The year is almost over. We have two vaccines. The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light. Yes, there is more work to do. To be sure, we are still in the midst of darkness. But when we look up we are reminded that the light of hope can lead us and a star can still brighten our way.

Look for Ways to Bring Light Wherever You Go

Photo by C Technical from Pexels

“Where there is hatred, let me sow love
….where there is darkness, light.”
– Saint Francis of Assisi

A preacher recently reminded me that there is a danger to darkness. I believe that the danger is that we may allow our vision to adjust so well to the darkness that we contract in hopelessness and fear. There is another way

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenged his disciples saying, “You are the light of the world.” I have suggested in another post that this passage seems to contradict John 8:12. With its high Christology, the Gospel of John has Jesus declaring “I am the light of the world.” But in Matthew 5:14, we are told that we are the light of the world. In John, we are invited to accept the light; but in Matthew, we are called to be the light. Rather than contradicting each other, perhaps they are complementary. In experiencing the light of Christ, in seeking to connect with the Divine through prayer and meditation, for example, we are better equipped to be the light we are called to be.

In surrendering to a higher power, we allow our lives to be instruments, in the words of Saint Francis of Assisi. As instruments in the hands of the Divine, where there is hatred, we can sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; and even where there is darkness, light. This is awesome responsibility. If we are the light, then we are the ones we are waiting for. In times of national crisis, perhaps we should not ask where is God, but instead ask, “Where am I?” We are the ones who are called to walk with others through the darkness, to show compassion and empathy, to love one another, to seek justice for the oppressed, to protect our communities, and to serve those in need. By letting our light shine, we may very well be the ones to bring our nation out of this darkness.

The eyes reveal a simple truth: It is difficult to come in contact with darkness and not be changed. It is difficult to experience light and not be changed. 2020 has changed us. It has changed our lives, our families, our churches, our communities, our nation, and our world. But we have a choice of whether we change for the better. We can choose whether we become more compassionate, more loving, whether we care for the poor and work for justice. We can decide whether we will be the light that we are called to be, to light a candle in the darkness, and to sow, where there is darkness, light.

Stay safe and have a Merry Christmas.

Blessings,

Cynthia

Photo: Christmas Lights by Marilylle Soveran, Creative Commons
Contemplation and Action For Social Justice

Creative Living FaithJustice Blog Spiritual Growth Vocation+Purpose

Contemplation and Action For Social Justice

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

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“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.

The Lighthouse Keeper

Family Spiritual Growth

The Lighthouse Keeper

Preface: When I left my church ministry position in 2017 to focus on writing a book and starting a nonprofit, I had no way of knowing that I would preach five eulogies in eighteen months for various members of my family. The first three loved ones passed away within three months of my last day on the job. As I have fulfilled this responsibility over the past months, I have heard a common refrain: I’m pretty good at delivering eulogies, quite good actually. This is an odd skill set, to be sure, and I am not hanging a shingle here. But it was at my great aunt’s funeral last weekend that I understood the import. Eulogies are a form of life-writing, a form of biography. Like biography, the eulogy goes beyond factual details of a life in order to place an individual in personal and/or social-historical context and to draw lessons from their life experiences. There are also key differences that need not be enumerated here. But their similarities led me to the conclusion that if I am good at eulogy, then perhaps I am also good at biography. If so, this is certainly a good thing since I am currently writing a book-length biography of my grandfather. Therefore, I have embraced this vocational season of my life as one not only filled with losses, but also filled with unexpected synchronicity. Moreover, I have decided to share these eulogies on my blog. I begin now with the eulogy of my great aunt, Carrie Turner. 

 

 The Lighthouse Keeper        

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” -Matthew 5:14-16

The waters were calm on a balmy day in Washington, DC. Ellis Turner wore a baseball cap, a short-sleeved, button-down shirt, and trousers as he prepared his boat to launch into the harbor. I’m not sure who else was with us – it may have been Arial or Daren or who knows. What I do know is that when civilian Captain Ellis turned on the motor and steered the Nija-Maria out on the open waters of the Potomac with the monuments in the distance, as the sun kissed his face, the wind seemed to blow at least ten years from his brow. He looked younger, brave, and strong. He was in his element and it was a sight to behold.

Many in our family had the experience of being on his boat, which he had over several decades. He was in his 70’s when I went with him, but he took my mother out in his boat when he was in his 30’s. The boat became part of the experience of visiting Ellis and Carrie here in Washington, DC, part of experiencing their hospitality.

When it was time to return, what beckoned Uncle Ellis back to shore? How did he find his way home? It is my feeling that inasmuch as Uncle Ellis was the captain, their home was the lighthouse, and Aunt Carrie was the lighthouse keeper.

Born in 1929, Aunt Carrie was part of the greatest generation. Born in South Carolina and raised in Augusta, GA, she lived through the Great Depression and World War II. She was also born into Jim Crow segregation and saw the colored only signs.

In 1951, she married Ellis Turner and they were a gorgeous couple. Aunt Carrie was quite a beauty, inside and out, with a magnetic personality. Together, they started a family. And together, these members of the greatest generation experienced the aftermath of Brown vs. Board, witnessed firsthand the Civil Rights Movement, mourned the death of the four little black girls and the assassinations of Evers, Kennedy, and King, and experienced the victory of the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act.

As a result, Aunt Carrie became an active participant in the rise of African American political power in the 1970s and 80s and until her retirement, working first for the Navy then spending many years working for DC government and the DC Democratic State Committee. She was an activist. She saw her role as that of helping her community, helping those in need, and doing her part to make the world a better place. And throughout her adult life, she kept a home that welcomed us all.

A lighthouse is typically a tower that emits light and serves as a navigational aid for those at sea. The bright light at the top of the lighthouse is called a beacon, and it is the job of lighthouse keeper to keep the light burning bright. Symbolically, a lighthouse represents guidance and help navigating the world. It represents safety when facing rough waters or challenging circumstances, safe harbor for those in peril on the sea.

Yes, for me and so many others, the Turner home was a lighthouse. It was a beacon, it beckoned us there. How many of us stayed there for longer than a short visit? How many times did we gather there on Sunday or a holiday? How many times did we go to see them and to see everyone else who would be there to see them? Aunt Carrie kept the light burning bright. She cooked those delicious meals, especially that cornbread, and had a way of connecting with everyone individually. How many of us left feeling encouraged, like we had been a little closer to home?

It turns out that she was like that, not just with us, but with her community. I’m told that when someone in the neighborhood was going through a tough time, the Turner home was a place to turn. When someone wanted to get elected, Aunt Carrie was the person you wanted on your side. When a young person needed support or encouragement, Ellis and Carrie showed up.

For me personally, they showed up at my life events before I knew them well. But it was when I had just graduated from Harvard Divinity School, before attending law school, that I lived with them for a year. They became like grandparents to me, coming to hear me preach at my first ministry job, inviting me to attend events with them where it was clear that they were well known and beloved. I would return there in between law school semesters, and when I met the person I would marry, they were among the first family members to meet him. They became a home away from home for my family and me.

I’m told that the number of lighthouses in the world is decreasing and being replaced by newer navigational technology. At least in the United States, there really aren’t many lighthouse keepers left. Like the greatest generation, they are becoming a remnant of a different time, slowly slipping away from us, belonging to the ages.

On this last Thursday, January 3rd, the lighthouse went dark for a while. Aunt Carrie entered that eternal rest, going to be with the Lord and with the ancestors.  For some of us, the past week has been noticeably darker, colder, and we have felt a little lost as though something is missing. What do we do when confronted with darkness? What do we do when we must grope around feeling blinded and bumping into obstacles that we’re unable to see? What do we do in the dark?

There are many differences between the gospel of John and the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), but there is one that stood out to me for the first time while preparing this eulogy. In the Gospel of John, Jesus is quoted as saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” In the high Christology of John, we see the “I am” statements and Jesus’ light contrasted with the darkness of the world.

But the writer of the Gospel of Matthew must have heard it differently. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is quoted as saying, “You are the light of the world.” He goes on to say, “A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”  According to John, Jesus is the beacon guiding our way. But in Matthew, Jesus delegates that responsibility to his followers, that is, to us!

In times of darkness, if one only reads John, one might ask where is God? I mean, if Jesus/God is the light of the world, yet we experience darkness, then where is God? I’m sure you’ve heard people ask, where was God when this tragedy happened? Where was God when this disaster happened? But when I read Matthew it confirms my suspicion that when we’re busy asking where was God, God is asking where were you? Where were you when your neighbor was suffering? Where were you when you saw someone in need? Where were you when a young person needed encouragement?

Because I’ll tell you one thing: Aunt Carrie was there. Ellis & Carrie spent their lives showing up for others. They showed up for our celebrations and graduations and vacations. But they also showed up in times of need. The testimonies I’ve heard have been those of generosity of spirit, of providing a helping hand, of being a positive source of encouragement, that if they heard someone in the neighborhood was going through a tough time, they would go into their own pockets to make a difference in their lives.

When I think of that scripture, of not hiding your light but letting your light shine so that people will see your good works and glorify God. I can’t imagine a better scripture to reflect the life of Aunt Carrie – someone who personally and professionally, socially and politically let her light shine before others not so that they would see her, but so that they would see something bigger than her, bigger than you, bigger than me.

What do we do in times of darkness? What do we do when we can’t find our way? We light a candle. We kindle a flame. And if we can find each other, we combine our light and build a fire.

Ellis, Victor, Darren, it’s now time for you to be a light to your father, to be a light to Nathan. It’s time for me to become the kind of aunt that Aunt Carrie was for me. It’s time for all of us to become what Aunt Carrie was for us. It’s time for us to see a need and meet it, see suffering and bring healing, see mourning and bring comfort, see a victory and help celebrate it. I don’t know if Aunt Carrie ever asked, where was God. I don’t know what darkness she might have encountered, and I certainly don’t judge anyone who asks. But I believe God never had to ask where was Aunt Carrie. She was busy showing up in the lives of those who needed her.

Now it’s time for us to do the same, to light a candle in the darkness, to go home and be a beacon in our communities.  We must now realize, “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven”

Commencement: A New Chapter in Ministry

Creative Living Discipleship Ministry Spiritual Growth Vocation+Purpose

Commencement: A New Chapter in Ministry

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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.

Preaching
Preaching

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.

img_0874When 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. 

DSC00909Be 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).

 

Spiritual Thirst

Spiritual Growth

Spiritual Thirst

Dry Ground by Max Wolfe on Flickr
Dry Ground by Max Wolfe on Flickr

My soul thirsts for you…as in a dry and weary
land where there is no water.  – Psalm 63:1

 

The Season of Lent is a time when many people of faith focus more deeply on their spiritual lives. The forty days of Lent are a reminder of the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness fasting and praying before the start of his Galilean ministry. Jesus was famished, according to the scripture, hungry and thirsty after those forty days in the desert. It was then that the devil came to tempt Jesus with food, material possessions, and power.

We are famished. We, too, hunger and thirst for more than what we have. There are many people in our communities and throughout the world for whom hunger and thirst is not simply metaphorical; rather impoverished conditions have created a real need for food and water. But there are many people who are able to meet their basic, physical needs. And yet, they are still thirsty. Thirsty for connection. Thirsty for money. Thirsty for power. Thirsty for more. 

It is this thirst that both tempts us away from and draws us to the Divine. 

1. Humanity longs for spiritual connection to God.

"Meditation" by Moyan Brenn on Flickr
“Meditation” by Moyan Brenn on Flickr

Throughout history, humanity has exhibited a longing for the Divine. World religions, from the mainline to the lesser known to the indigenous, are rooted in a belief that the physical world is not the end of existence. Belief in a Higher Power, whether called Jesus Christ, Brahmin, Allah, YHWH, or by other names, reflects this human longing for deeper meaning and spiritual connection. There has been much in the news lately about the problems caused by religion, that it is possible to lose sight of the many ways that faith improves our world. Many great thinkers and mystics, including Thich Naht Hahn, Thomas Merton, Rumi, Theresa of Avila, and others act as guideposts, pointing us toward the divine as the answer to our spiritual thirst. In the words of Augustine of Hippo, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find rest in you.”

2. If we seek spiritual growth, we will find it.

Viola's Visions on Flickr
Viola’s Visions on Flickr

Hebrew and Christian scriptures are filled with promises that spiritual growth can be found by those who are willing to seek it. The prophet Jeremiah, speaking on behalf of God, says, “When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13) Similarly, Jesus promises, “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.” (Matthew 7:7) We can seek after God through spiritual practices, such as prayer, meditation, study of sacred texts, fasting, and solitude. We can also seek spiritual growth through outward action, whether acts of service, acts of justice, and lives of simplicity. We can be people who, in the words of the Psalmist, “seek peace, and pursue it.” (Psalms 34:14) Spiritual growth is not far from us. Indeed, the Kingdom of God is at hand, available to those who desire it and are willing to seek it.

3. Spiritual life quenches our deep thirst.

"Waterfall" by Tom Hall on Flickr
“Waterfall” by Tom Hall on Flickr

Not only is spiritual growth available to us all, but this spiritual life will satisfy our eternal thirst. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matthew 5:6) Our celebrity-obsessed culture suggests that if we have more of their things, do more of what they do, or even look more like they look, our lives will be more fulfilling. But pursuit of material success alone will leave us, paradoxically, more thirsty and more empty. This is because material things cannot satisfy the inner longing of the heart. This does not mean that we are all called to live an ascetic life devoid of material comforts and success. It is normal and acceptable to have material, financial goals and to enjoy those achievements. We should, however, recognize that external, material success will not bring the inner peace, joy, and fulfillment that can only be found through the interior life of spiritual growth and development. In the words of the Gospel of John, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14)

Meditation: Sit in a quiet space. Pay attention to your breathe, inhaling and exhaling. Acknowledge, without judgment, the longing that you feel, whether physical, material, or financial. Then, pay attention to the deeper thirst of your heart. How will you seek the Lord today?

Transfiguration and Transformation

Creative Living Spiritual Growth

Transfiguration and Transformation

Butterfly

 

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.

  1. Spiritual transformation is not achieved by trying but by training.

This concept comes from our church’s Lenten study from 2015, John RunnersOrtberg’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.

 

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

PrayerI 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).

 

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

Many people have had mountaintop experiences or special Butterfly and Crysalisencounters 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.

 

Try Again

Creative Living Spiritual Growth

Try Again

By Barry haynes (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
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.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So 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. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken;10 and 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.” 11 When 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.