Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Learning to Upgrade

It’s hard to let go of the familiar. I am facing this right now because it looks like I’m going to need a new computer soon. I was reminded this morning, however, that the most difficult things to let go aren’t actually things; they are ideas. My beliefs, so firmly held, are often just opinions that I cling to for protection from the reality of the complex and confusing world.

God is like that too. By which I mean, my notion of God. Every time I am certain of what I believe, of what God must BE—the God of justice, the God of Love—I am reminded that my ideas are always and forever inadequate. Scripture—which may not be inerrant but is certainly inspired—tells us that besides being just and loving, the Divine can merciful and furious. Or maybe I’m sure that God is energy or that God is Beingness. None of these faces, or characterizations, are necessarily wrong. They are necessarily incomplete. It’s only when I assume that I’ve got the lock on it, that I finally know, that I am completely wrong.

It’s like I got started a long time ago with God 1.0, and my job is to keep getting constant upgrades and even once in a while a whole new machine. Learning the upgrades takes a hell of a lot of work, but the alternative is that you can’t process the information that is coming in—you can’t read the files that you get sent and you can’t enjoy all there is. In computers and programs, as in our relationship to the Holy, as in our lives, to be static is to die.

So here’s to a new computer, and to God 10.3, or whatever upgrade you’re on. May we have the courage to learn it well and let it go when its time has come.

blessings--

Therese

Monday, November 28, 2011

Second day of Advent

The following is from a collection of Advent Reflections compiled by the Vancouver School of Theology community.   This exert is from Pamela Hawkins, Simply Wait: Cultivating Stillness in the Season of Advent.
With practice, I learned that if I just kept looking, patiently, I would almost always find a falling star.  Over time I learned from friends who had lived by the ocean longer than I that the likelihood of finding a falling star was greater in certain seasons of he year or in particular quadrants of the sky.  I learned that if I lay down with my head propped just right on Ray’s knee, I could wait longer and watch better.  I just had to let patience, desire, and practice teach me to be present to what was to come.
So it is with Advent and patience.  As we begin to watch impatiently for the light of Christmas, we have been given this stretch of time and space of Advent.  Here we are invited to grow in patience and to position our lives so that we do not miss what God is doing in the wide expanse of the world.
May we slow down, spread out our whole lives before God, and practice patient watching for where the light of God is falling.  May we catch a glimpse of this holy light of the lives and places in the world that need our attention and are 8illumined by God’s radiance so as to draw us near.  May we all settle into Advent with a deep desire to see and attend to what matters to God.

Benediction
May the Holy Spirit fall upon you.  Like a falling star, trailing across the dawns and dusks of your Advent living, may the Spirit mark you with light and point the way toward God-With-Us.  Be patient, draw close, for the Lord is very near.   Amen.
Posted by Dan Chambers

Friday, November 25, 2011

One Minute Wisdom

I have enjoyed the writing of Anthony de Mello for many years.

You may find the Wikipedia info interesting, especially on the Pope’s opinion!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_de_Mello


His “One Minute Wisdom” book is in the library of the monastery where I have done several retreats. I am drawn to it each time I’m there for the freshness of his thinking and his gentle humor.


In my next few blog postings I’ll share stories from his book.

Here are a few words from the introduction to set the stage.


“The Master in these tales is not a single person... His wisdom belongs to East and West alike. Do his historical antecedents really matter? History, after all, is the record of appearances, not Reality; of doctrines, not of Silence.

It will only take a minute to read each of the anecdotes that follow. You will probably find the Master’s language baffling, exasperating, even downright meaningless. This, alas, is not an easy book! It was written, not to instruct, but to Awaken. Concealed within its pages (not in the printed words, not even in the tales, but in its spirit, its mood, its atmosphere) is a Wisdom which cannot be conveyed in human speech. As you read the printed page and struggle with the Master’s cryptic language it is possible that you will unwittingly chance upon the Silent Teaching that lurks within the book, and be Awakened - and transformed. This is what Wisdom means: to be changed without the slightest effort on your part, to be transformed, believe it or not, merely by waking to the reality that is not words, that lies beyond the reach of words.”


When it comes to our own spiritual nurture, and spiritual growth, we can become discouraged. It is common for me to arrive at plateaus in my practice and in my relationship with God. I’m grateful for the reminder in the teaching of Centering Prayer that the most important part of the practice is doing it, not in any results or feelings of spiritual closeness. Here is Tony’s take on it!


“Is there such a thing as One Minute Wisdom”

“There certainly is,” said the Master.

“But surely one minute is to brief?”

“It is fifty-nine seconds too long.”


To his puzzled disciples the Master later said, “How much time does it take to catch sight of the moon?”


“Then why all these years of spiritual endeavor?”


“Opening one’s eyes may take a lifetime. Seeing is done in a flash.”

Monday, November 21, 2011

At Home in the Spirit

I’ve just returned from a month in Ethiopia.  It was an experience of poverty and beauty beyond what I could ever have imagined. 
The first two weeks I was working with a team of twelve Canadians and some thirty five Ethiopian men and women building Habitat for Humanity houses (and pit toilets) made of eucalyptus poles, bark, chika and cement, with corrugated metal roofs.  On our last day on the Build site we presented six families with house keys, and bibles, and pictures of our team to hang on the walls of their new homes - homes which they had earned through their hard work - homes which they now owned.
The last two weeks I travelled with a couple of friends and our driver, discovering the beauty and the spirit of the land and the people who walked it, literally, and often barefoot.  I have arrived home with many pictures, and stories, and a sense of being full to overflowing with something new and yet not new.  I need time to just be with it all.
In those four weeks of walking in a land of ancient culture, and people stripped of so much of the stuff that fills my world, I was almost constantly aware of the Holy Mystery that is the Source of all of creation.  I had a sense of being spiritually fed at a deep and profound level.  Maybe I was more open because my surroundings were both strange and strangely familiar - in a land two miles above sea level - where the air was thin and my lungs were at times challenged, the feeling in my fingers reached out beyond my skin at times.  But even so I felt at home. 
Holy Love wrapped round me and invited me to dance - and on the last day on the Build site I did dance, hesitantly since my shoulders were unfamiliar with the dance of these new friends - these new home-owners.  We all danced to the music of the universe sung by a man in rubber clogs, dancing on a bare dirt floor, in Ethiopia.
And in the words of another indigenous man, from my part of the world, My Heart Soars!

Sharon Copeman

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

THE SEED OF GOD ~ Meister Eckhart

The seed of God is in us.
Given an intelligent
and hardworking farmer,
it will thrive and grow
up into God, whose seed
it is; and accordingly its
fruits will be God-nature.
Pear seeds grow into
pear trees, nut seeds
into nut trees, and
God seeds into God.

May the seed of God root deeply within you and grow robustly through and about you.

--
Ivy Thomas
Conference Minister
Kamloops-Okanagan Presbytery

Monday, November 14, 2011

Head, Heart and Body

I’d like to share a passage from a new book by Richard Rohr.

It really resonated with me, and as I thought about sharing it here, I noticed that it carried on from my last posting! (Living what we preach) Having a quality of life that others will ask about! Luminous and light filled!

Answering the invitation to an authentic life of faith lies at the heart of our leadership.

I hear an important ‘self check in inventory’ that I will use: ” On a sliding scale, how are my: opinionated head, closed-down heart, and defended body?”


“To finally surrender ourselves to healing, we have to have three spaces opened up within us-and all at the same time: our opinionated head, our closed-down heart, and our defensive and defended body. That is the work of spirituality-and it is work. Yes, it is finally the work of “a Power greater than ourselves,” and it will lead to great luminosity and depth of seeing. That is why true faith is one of the most holistic and free actions a human can perform. It leads to such broad and deep perception, that most traditions would call it “light”. Remember, Jesus said that we were the light of the world also (Matt 5:14) and not just himself (John 8:12). Christians often forget this. Such luminous seeing is quite the opposite of the closed-minded, dead heart, body-denying thing that much religion has allowed faith to become. As you have surely heard before, “Religion is lived by people who are afraid of hell. Spirituality is lived by people who have been through hell.”

Richard Rohr, Breathing Underwater, St Anthony Messenger Press, 2011. p. 8,9


His book is about the connection between spirituality and the 12 steps of AA. It is a beautiful introduction to the 12 steps in a way that will be accessible to Christians.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Step Parent Heart

I am in Washington D.C., with my new grandson, his almost 4 year old sister, and his parents, drafted for a week of washing and cooking and cleaning and babysitting.

Technically, he’s not my grandson.  I’m a stepmother, not a birth mother: I’ve had to work hard to earn a place in this little boy’s life.  A friend once told me that being a stepparent was the most thankless task in the world—you’re supposed to be as generous and understanding as a real parent but without the right to say anything.   It’s tricky, step-parenting: we have to find forgiveness and acceptance before we find love, and it’s hard to love when someone is being cautious about me.  I find myself being constrained because I never want to hear, “You’re not my mother.”  I often keep my mouth shut, not out of love, but out of fear of rejection. 

Yesterday I went to church with the kids.  I like this suburban church with children and old people and a great choir: it’s not perfect, but it’s good.  They have a new pastor, and I was eager to hear what he had to say.

But what I noticed more than what he said is that he operated with step-parent heart.  He had all the right words and all the right ideas and his theology was good, but it felt hard, sharp: more like setting a limit than extending an invitation.

I think sometimes when we love Jesus and the work of justice passionately, we experience the church as a stepchild, not quite what we want, not raised the way we would raise it.  We are careful of our hearts because we don’t want to be rejected, but we are also quick to judge first.   The problem is that if we keep our hearts, if we wait for love before we extend forgiveness and acceptance, nothing will ever grow between us.

I wanted to take this man’s hand after church and tell him to be more tender.  I didn’t.  I don’t know if he would have heard it, or appreciated it.  Probably I was afraid of offending.  But I will pray for him that his stepparent heart, and mine, continues to melt.  As the psalmist says, Take away this stony heart, and put a new heart within me…

Posted by Therese DesCamp

Friday, November 4, 2011

Just Breathe

It's my turn to struggle with what to put on the blog and today I can't even find a poem I like - that's impossible.
Perhaps it's because it's so cold out all of a sudden that I feel like I should be curled up under a blanket next to a warm fire.
Or maybe it is some of the responses I have read or heard from colleagues this week that has been disheartening.
Perhaps it's because it's election time in Squamish and some of the political arguments I read yesterday about non-profits and churches just out to money grab got me a little down.
Or what about the guy who came into the office and ranted at me about how no one comes to churches because they are full of 'crap' and are just out to get our money and not willing to help anyone in need.
Or maybe it's because this Sunday we are having a remembrance day service and so even prepping worship this week has been lament.
It makes me think of those days I'm nervous to go into a meeting and I know I should have a wise devotional but "I got nothing"
It's not that I'm down or depressed. I'm actually in a really good space in life.
So instead of writing something wise today I've decided to just write something honest and say the goal for today is to 'just breathe.' Breathe in the breath of life.... that's all... just breathe....close your eyes take a deep breath and breathe...breathe

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Truck Lights

I first heard Rene Fumeleau’s poem about two years ago while driving in my car and listening to the CBC.  It made an impression so I more recently offered the poem for our Board meeting as we find our way through a time of uncertainty, calling on our faith in God and in each other.  A few weeks later I offered the poem in a sermon while visiting with the Cariboo Presbytery in Fort St. James, where it was also appreciated.  So now I offer it to you, that you may have the faith to go forward even with the little light we have in the moment.

Truck Lights
By Rene Fumeleau, an Oblate priest doing missionary work in the far North.  Beuchoko is about 80 kilometers north of Yellowknife.  This piece is from his collection of poems,  Here I Sit.

Wintertime and very cold,
early afternoon but already dark.
I'm driving from Sombak'e (Yellowknife) to Beuchoko (Rae)
in my fifteen-year-old pickup truck,
and a Dene elder askes me for a ride.

The land has taught the Dene
to live in a world of silence.
After ten kilometeres, Kolchia relects:

"Driving the truck is like having faith in God."
I'm trying to figure out what he means,
but after two kilometres I give up:

"Grandpa, you talked about driving and faith in God.
I'm not sure what you meant."

Kolchia turned slightly towards me:
"You started the engine and you put the lights on.
We could have said,
'We see only one hundred metres ahead.
Farther on, it's one hundred kilometres of darkness,
so we cannot go the Beuchoko.'

But you got the truck into gear,
we started to move,
and the lights kept showing ahead of us.


Posted by Dan Chambers