Coversation #10 – When do I experience sacred?

I find it interesting that this question is “…sacred” and not “…the sacred.”  I have often heard the words “the sacred” used to talk about a way of experiencing God as person, force, object, etc.  Without the definite article, it does bring in a new element.  The word sacred is defined as “something connected with God [or gods] or dedicated to a religious purpose and so deserving veneration.”  In the dictionary I used, it is an adjective and not a noun (proper or otherwise).  So, this question has a bit of a different slant than it could.

For me, I started initially working through a long list of “times of experiencing sacred” and came up with about 20 things and it still felt incomplete.  It felt like there were moments missing and ones that I couldn’t even remember specifically and yet felt like they were missing.

The word sacred has a sense of holy, set-apart, unique, unusual, unexpected, beautiful to me.  Sacred comes in where these things interact with daily life.  But what is most important to remember is that daily life is not just a process of getting from one sacred point to another, but instead a daily living in the midst of the sacredness of life.  Too often, I think we live where we separate “sacred” from “secular” and give the sense that the two are completely separate.  I think reality is far different, however, as sacred-ness is all around us and it is us seeking to be tuned into the sacredness that is there.

In this sense, its not that much different from the radio, television, wifi, etc waves that are all around us – we may not see them, but when we are tuned in, we pick them up clearly and are connected to something beyond ourselves.  I think sacred is like that in a far more important and life changing way.  Sacred is in the air around us and its a lifelong process of being tuned into it around us.

Conversation #9 – When Have I Experienced Working for the Common Good?

So, its taken a bit longer, but I’m going to try to wrap up these 10 conversations…Two left to go.

As I started to think about this question, I thought of a survey that made its way around the internet a few weeks back about iPad owners.  I don’t know how “scientific” the survey is, but it came out with some not-very-good words about iPad owners…

According to Tim Koelkebeck of MyType, which carried out the survey, iPad owners are are six times more likely to be ‘wealthy, well-educated, power-hungry, over-achieving, sophisticated, unkind and non-altruistic 30-50-year-olds’.

They are self-centered workaholics with an overwhelming interest in business and finance who cherish ‘power and achievement’ and will not cross the street to help others, he added.  (source)

Now, I am not sure about the validity of the survey, but I thought about the overall message in there that focuses on the individual and how much of our technology today caters to the individual’s experience.  Smartphones, iPads, iPods, PSPs, etc are all focused on the individual’s experience.  They are generally not about the common, shared experience.  Yes, I am generalizing here, but there is a strong individualistic element within much of what we do today.

So, where does this relate to the question, “When Have I Experienced Working for the Common Good?”  Well, for me it is within a community and not within my own individual experience.  These times of experiencing a working towards the common good have come when I am not working on my own.  I know this sounds a bit like a “duh” kind of comment, but the more we become fractured and individualistic, the harder it is for us to work towards the common.

The key experiences I think of in this are are mission trips – to various places near and far, service projects within churches and organizations, simple acts of people coming together to help people in need, being part of campaigns and grassroots organizations toward a common purpose, and so forth.  These are all times I have experienced this. I have experienced this many times over and could list many different examples.  However, the key point for me is how we need to be cognizant of the others around us in our lives.  It is so easy to be very “me” or “us” focused that those beyond fall off our radar screen.

Conversation #8 – What is my unique contribution to the whole?

Talk about a hard question to answer…the others to this point have been ones that could be more at a distance – reflections upon more external issues, but with some measure of an internal.  This one is more focused on me and the ways that I have been created, gifted, the experiences I have gained, and how I share these things.  For me, I think the primary thing that I hope is that I am contributing to the whole.  I want to live in such a way as there is purpose in what I am doing and meaning in what I do – whether that is as a follower of Jesus, as a husband, as a father, as a friend, as a pastor.  One of the central passages of the Bible for me comes from Jeremiah 29:11 – “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

For me, this passage says that as God has laid out these plans, I need to seek to live in similar ways to bring about the welfare of others and to bring about healing and wholeness and not harm and ultimately to focus on the hope that there is beyond this life.  I think some of the things I am able to bring to that contribution is an ability to listen well (at least most of the time), an ability to see beyond the present, an openness to new ideas, a compassionate spirit, and a calming presence.  There are definitely other things, but those are the big ones that I have experienced in myself and have been affirmed by others along the journey.

As I thought about this, I also thought of a very significant hour of TV Amy and I watched several years ago.  There was a TV show, Ed (ironically enough) that we watched in the first few years of our marriage and one of the episodes the first season was entitled, “Live Deliberately” and it contrasted the life of trying to do everything versus a focus on simplicity and core ideals.  The episode was centered upon Thoreau’s quote from Walden:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion

Here’s the ending reflection of the episode upon that quote and Ed’s journey up the local mountain at the end…

To me, there is a profound call for us in this call to live deliberately and to live fully.  I guess, moving beyond just the lists and talents, etc, I hope that my contribution is helping people to live their lives in the fullest sense, experiencing and sharing the fullness of God, and the fullness of relationships with one another.

Conversation #7 – What is the Relationship I Want With the Earth?

What is the relationship I want with the earth?  Definitely not something like this.  The stories of the oil slick in the gulf are heartbreaking about the impact that is already being felt, what is predicted to be, and how long the Gulf and the Gulf Coast will take to recover from this.  The sad part of this is that this is far from the only significant environmental issue that our world is facing.  Even taking out the discussions around global warming are the countless areas that we have utterly polluted in the world.  Power and Energy Magazine recently posted their list of the nine worst polluted places on Earth.

For me, the key scripture about our care of God’s creation comes out of Genesis 1:26-28.  We read:

Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.” ²⁷So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. ²⁸God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.”

One reading of this passage is that we have full right to do whatever we want to do with the earth because we’ve been told to subdue it and have dominion over it.  I have heard sermons and read messages many times to that direction.  I, however, feel that there is a different reading of it.  Its like when you receive a precious gift from a loved one.  Yes, we have every right to take that gift and abuse it, break it, etc.  Yes we can do that.  But should we?  Do actions such as that honor the giver as well as use the gift?  I feel similarly about our care of the earth as not only people of faith (as I happen to be), but each one of us as we live and breathe here.

Conversation #6 – Am I willing to reclaim time to think?

This is the 6th in my series of posts answering the questions from Margaret Wheatley’s book, Turning to One Another.  By following this link, you can see my thoughts on the first five questions.  After this one, there are four other questions still to tackle…

Onto question number six – Am I willing to reclaim time to think?  There is rich irony in this question for my life right now.  The last question I answered was posted on February 25, so 48 days ago.  Interesting that in 48 days I was not able to make the time to respond to this question.  I guess that answers the question for me…

Seriously…As I write this, I think of Rodin’s famous sculpture, The Thinker…Reflecting upon that sculpture, I wonder how it must feel to have the time to just sit there, hand on chin and think in quiet solitude.  As a Myers-Briggs introvert, I am one who draws energy primarily from times such as this.  Times where I am able to simply be alone with my thoughts, with my self.  There are others (extraversion) who fall towards the other end of this spectrum whose energy is drawn primarily from times with others, in large groups, etc.  Neither of these are on a good/bad scale, simply personality preferences – they simply are “preferences” to use the MBTI terminology.

So, for me, there is an innate need to have that time for my own “psychic” health.  I often feel it quite strongly when I do not have time such as that.  In my life, it has become a reality that I need to have discipline to take the time to have these sorts of periods.  If I do not have the discipline around doing that, it does not happen.

Its also a message from Scripture that falls into this question.  In the creation story in Genesis, when the sixth day was completed, God set apart the seventh day as a day of rest and renewal.  As the Old Testament recounts the formation of the Israelite community, the seventh day / sabbath day is set apart for humans, for animals, even for the land.  It is a day set apart for God, for rest, for a break from the everyday.  Yet Sabbath is in short supply today, both in the choices we make and the choices in life made for us.

I think that for me, it is a regular choice “To Sabbath” – sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t.  Yet, when I do not, I eventually come to a place where I feel it within me that something has been missed.

Conversation #4 – What am I willing to notice in my world?

Onto question #4 – What am I willing to notice in my world?

There is a phrase often used in pastoral care, counseling, etc – active listening.  Its a practice of seeking to be conscious of the listening process in a caring relationship.  It seeks to make listening not simply a passive thing, but instead a practice that is reflective, directed, and conscious.  I thought of this practice when reflecting on this question.  What am I willing to notice in my world?

There are countless things that we all notice in our lives.  Changes that break into our everyday routines, a new developmental move by a child, unexpected events, and many many many more things.  But I think there are also countless things we choose to not notice.  Some of this is conscious, some of it is unconscious.

We grow so used to certain things that we barely notice them any longer.  For instance, when we first moved here to Wyoming, I think I heard the train everytime it went by.  Now, just a year later, I only really notice it when we’re just a block or so away or we physically see it crossing over Wyoming Ave.  Even though the engineers continue to blow the whistle just as much, just as loud (especially at 4a).  I have unconsciously grown to not notice the train.  That’s just one example of many.

We also consciously choose to not notice things.  When I am working at a coffee shop on a sermon, for example, I often pop in my earphones and disappear into my own little world.  I am consciously choosing to not notice things around me.

Yet, what happens when I do stop to listen for the train?  Well, I continue to notice the wonder and joy for my kids who never tire of seeing the train go by.  What happens when I choose to not pop in my earphones and take in the surroundings around me?  I often experience  examples of the diversity of the human experience and I find places where the reality of God breaks into the reality of our lives.

There was a column by Nicholas Kristof in the New York Times a few weeks ago reflecting upon the Haiti earthquake relief efforts.  While the author was very careful to not denigrate the unimaginable need in Haiti and the incredible necessity of relief efforts, he was reflecting upon how we noticed the immediate, the new, the sudden that took place in Haiti, in Indonesia, or along the Gulf Coast.  Yet, he shared of the continuing tragedy in Congo and spoke of how that ongoing human tragedy is largely unnoticed.  Here’s his column.  Maybe its because the scale is too great to imagine, maybe we have been worn down by the ongoing nature, maybe it is a host of other factors.  Yet, consciously or unconsciously, we don’t notice.

This goes back to Wheatley’s original question…What am I willing to notice?  Not…what am I able to notice?  Not…what do I want to notice?  But…what am I willing to notice?  When I think of “willing” it means that I am open to doing something that might dramatically change me?  Might blow away my preconceptions.  Might make me question what I have held so tightly to.  Might do a host of things I may not expect.  What am I willing to notice?

What am I willing to begin to consciously notice in my world?  Am I willing to consciously notice situations like Congo, the ongoing situation in Haiti, or situations closer to home?  On a different note, am I willing to consciously take moments in my day to look for something that reflects the beauty that God has created around us instead of just waiting until something is so beautiful that I can’t help but notice?  What am I willing to notice?

Conversation #3 – What do I believe about others?

This is the third in a series of posts I am doing responding to Margaret Wheatley’s questions in her book, Turning to One Another. You can read my comments on the book as a whole here, and my responses to questions 1 and 2, here and here respectively.  Her third question is, “What do I believe about others?”

What do I believe about others?
The shortest way to answer this is, “its complicated.”  I wish it were as simple as going back to the traditional Calvinist perspective that human beings are totally depraved, to use the theological term laid out by the Synod of Dort.  I know this greatly oversimplifies the words from Dort, but basically they said that human beings were totally broken and basically incapable of good on their own apart from God.  There was some allowance, especially in Calvin’s own words and not necessarily of those of his followers, for humans to do good on their own, but ultimately it came down to deep sinfulness. It is important to note that this point was largely focused on eternal life – that is, humans can do nothing of their own to effect their own salvation. That being said, the perspective has spilled over into ideas of how humans are in everyday life

History has proven this out in many ways.  We don’t need to list the many ways that humans find to commit evil in the world, both present day and historically.  It happens on interpersonal levels and it happens on wider levels.

That being said, human beings are capable of incredible good as well.  I have seen people act in ways that are amazing in their sacrifice, dedication, persistence, patience, and grace.  Many of these actions have been completely unprompted and some even “unnecessary.”  Yet they still take place and are amazing acts of love and grace.

Maybe the best answer comes in watching how my children have grown up to this point.  at times, in the span of 10 minutes I see them go from acts of incredible love and caring for one another (and for my wife and me) to whacking each other with toys without even really thinking about it.  I experience the most amazing acts of love when one on them just wants to cuddle up and love and then times that they simply don’t want to be held at all.  Its complicated.

So, the simple answer?  Its complicated.  I do believe that we as human beings are in need of redemption, but I also believe that we are capable of incredible good.  Maybe I am talking on two different levels here – one level focused more on an eternal perspective and one focused on an earthly perspective.  Guess that’s why “its complicated” is where I come down to.

Some of the best songs about the human experience come from the music and lyrics of one of my favorite musicians, David Wilcox.  He recently put up a blog post about his “musical medicine.”  He went through his catalog of music and broke down his songs by a variety of topics dealing with the experience of being human.  You can check out his medicine cabinet here.

Conversation #2 – What is my faith in the future?

Word of warning…this is going to be somewhat rambling and probably not well-proofed.  Its about 1030pm on a Saturday night prior to a Sunday where I am preaching about sin.  Yes, I should probably be in bed, but this question has been bouncing around in my head all day today and I know that it will continue to bounce around even if I do try to get to sleep right now.  So, here goes.

When I think about the future, I cannot help but go to the same passage I referred to in my initial post on this book – from Jeremiah 29:11 – “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

As I think about the future, I cannot help but think about it through the lens of those words.  There are definitely things that happen in the world, in my life, in the lives of others that sometimes make me struggle with those words, especially where Jeremiah speaks of “plans for your welfare and not for harm.”  I can think of lots of faithful people who have dealt with harmful circumstances in their lives and I wonder what the plan is in the midst of those circumstances and events.

Yet still, I do hold onto and have a faith in the future.  I have a faith in the future because of two things.  God.  People.

How can I have a belief and a trust in God if I do not believe that there is some larger something at work here?  If God is only for me to feel better about my life today or that God is some kind of divine self-help guru, then its not much toward the future.  Having faith in God and faith in the future because of God does not mean that I never wrestle with some of the larger issues at work.  It means that I go into the future holding tightly to the hand of God while still continually asking the question, “God, help me understand….”  Jeremiah was prophecying to a group of people facing potentially the end of their lives and he offers them “For I know the plans…”  I wonder how they reacted to his words.  He has also spent time prior to this speaking to living for the present day – telling them to build homes in exile, to marry, to seek the welfare of the place where they were.  To me, there are strong echoes in what Jesus says later about the lilies of the field – his words are not only about the present day, but also beyond.  Jeremiah 29:7 concludes with these words, “for in its welfare you will find your welfare” as he is speaking of their exile.  To paraphrase…maybe in the welfare of the present, we find the welfare for the future.

People – For as much as I have struggle with confidence in extra-ordinary people (politicians, public figures, sports starts, and so forth), I continue to have the greatest faith in ordinary people.  Ordinary people who wake up in the morning, eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast, are late heading out the door, whose clothes aren’t pressed perfectly, who have to juggle about 15 different schedules, who arrive home late at night only to remember they have a commitment to serve at their church that evening, who work incredibly hard in that time away from home, and then return home in time to kiss a child goodnight or to make a phone call to a dear friend who needs to talk to someone.  Ordinary people are why I have a faith in the future.  I work with people everyday here at PCW and in Wyoming who are ordinary people doing extraordinary things.  People who balance what feels like 1000 things in their lives, but yet find time to help a child with homework, to pick up trash that didn’t make it into the garbage can, who take a can home with them to recycle instead of leaving it to go in a landfill, who witness to their faith by deed and by word, and so on and so on.

As some of you know, I am wrapping up a pretty rough week tonight.  The list is way too lengthy to go into.  But as I am getting ready to head to bed (so I can wake up somewhat refreshed in time to preach tomorrow morning), I am reminded that through it all, I have encountered some pretty extraordinary ordinary people this week and many of them doing it in service of the God who I have centered my life upon.  I am not going to name each of these people, but those of you whom I worked with this week, you know who you are.  Some of those people are ones who will read this tonight and some will never come across these words.  Some are people I’ll see tomorrow morning, some are people I might not see again.  While not every issue is resolved from this past week, I do close this week out with a strong sense of faith in the future – in a future in service of a God I have come to know through the person of Jesus of Nazareth and in people who humble me in so many ways.

Conversation #1 – Do I feel a vocation to be fully human?

As noted in my last post, I am going to try to work through the ten conversation questions that Wheatley poses beginning with the first, and also the most vexing of her questions.  The rest, while excellent and thorough questions, each seem far more straightforward than this initial one.  Do I feel a vocation to be fully human?  While Wheatley wrote her own thoughts about this question, I want to write my own thoughts about what the question means before I consider what she writes about it.

First what does it mean to have a vocation?  Various definitions are:

• the particular occupation for which you are trained (ref)
• From the latin for “calling”
• A strong feeling of suitability for a particular career or occupation

For me, when I consider the word “vocation,” I think of it as the ways in which we are each living out our calling in the world.  As a Christian, my calling is to be a disciple living out my faith in deeds and in word in the world.  My vocation in which I live out that calling is as a pastor of a congregation.  For someone else, it could be a similar calling, but a very different vocation.  We are each still living out our respective callings, but living it out in a different way through our vocations.  The key point for me in vocation is choice.  We have no choice in the callings that we receive.  We do have choice in how we live it out and whether we live it in what we do.

Staying with definitions at this point, the second part of the question is “fully human.”  This one is a good bit trickier.  Standard definitions generally focus on the scientific meaning of the word – one of the human race and so forth.  So, I have to move in a different direction.  Again, as a Christian, I go to my faith experience and the words early in Genesis of humankind being created in God’s image, male and female created in God’s image.  Further, Jesus’ words about the way for people to live is two-fold – Love God and Love Neighbor.  Finally, the first question of the Westminster Catechism hints at this topic when it asks, “What is the chief end of man?”  Answer: To glorify God and enjoy God forever.

So using these definitions, the question for me comes down to the matter of choice.  Do I feel a vocation to be fully human?  Do I make a choice to live out my humanity?  For me as a Christian, do choose to love God and love neighbor, knowing that my chief end is to glorify the God who created all human beings in God’s own image?   While traditional Calvinism might have issue with making too much of the concept of choice as I have used it here, I do very much resonate with the concept that we are people who, left to our own devices, have a strong tendency to go in directions other than is beneficial for the common good.  It takes a choice to be altruistic.  It takes a choice to be giving.  It takes a choice.

In sum, I think it takes a choice to be fully human.  I think it takes a choice to see being fully human as a vocation for us.  We all live, breathe, eat, sleep, etc, but we take the choice to go another step and live out our human-ness in deed and in word in our lives.

What about for you?  How do you feel about this question?  What does vocation mean to you?  What about “fully human”?

Turning to One Another: A review

I am in one of my book manic modes.  I go in cycles of reading.  Some times I read a ton, some times I feel like it has been a year since I opened one.  Well, I am in one of those where I can’t get enough of the printed word.  I just finished a book that my dear wife gave me several months ago entitled, Turning to One Another: Simple Conversations to Restore Hope to the Future by Margaret Wheatley.  I had previously read Wheatley’s Leadership and the New Science, so I was a bit surprised by the content of this book.  It is a very different read.  It does not mean that’s a bad thing, but it is a very different book.  Wheatley’s book is a wonderful encouraging read in that it does help to get the reader thinking about how having hope in the future is a conscious act.  In the midst of stories of earthquakes, economic challenges, partisan gridlock, and so forth, it is very easy to live in fear and hopelessness.  Wheatley reminds us of the necessity of looking to the future with hopeful eyes about what is possible and what can be changed and how we have a role as a part of that hopeful future.

The book is not a “normal” book in that you simply read it cover to cover and put it away.  Instead, she provides ways for people to start a conversation about the topics at hand and encourages people to read these together and work through them together.  She begins with words about what it means to turn to one another as she focuses on the art of listening – how to listen, how to talk, how to be courageous in sharing, and how to listen with a willingness to be changed by the encounter with the other(s).

The main section of the book are the areas of conversation and she offers ten questions to consider…

• Do I feel a vocation to be fully human?
• What is my faith in the future?
• What do I believe about others?
• What am I willing to notice in my world?
• When have I experienced good listening?
• Am I willing to reclaim time to think?
• What is the relationship I want with the earth?
• What is my unique contribution to the whole?
• When have I experienced working for the common good?
• When do I experience sacred?

As I read these questions and the thoughts Wheatley offers from her own perspective, I began to think about a series of posts that I will do over the coming weeks/months on these topics.  It won’t be every week, but I am going to consider my own answers to each of these and invite you to be a part of the conversation.

Wheatley’s thesis of the book is stated simply and succinctly…”We can change the world if we just start listening to one another again.”

As I read Wheatley’s words, I am reminded of one of my core Scripture passages for my life – Jeremiah 29:11

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

Amen.