Take-Aways from Ken Shigematsu + World Vision’s 2019 Church Leaders Forum

Last year I went to World Vision’s Church Leaders Forum and loved it. This year I went with Michelle Hardy, and Jacob Burma (former intern to Ken!) came too, and we all loved it!. :)

The guest speaker was Ken Shigematsu, who pastors Tenth Church in Vancouver. We found out that all proceeds from his first bestselling book - God In My Everything - went to World Vision (and other missions), and the same is true for his most recent book, Survival Guide for the Soul (which we all got a copy of, and any of you are welcome to borrow!).

Here are some reflections, in no particular order:

1. Being and doing - I like the existence of this conference in general, because it inherently communicates that paying special attention to the poor is part and parcel to the life of the church (i.e. integral to what we’re “majoring in” as disciples, not just an elective for those so inclined…). So I was surprised by a similar affirmation in this forum, which was that “reawakening to God’s presence” and internalizing God’s love for us are not just “luxuries” for those so inclined, but also just as integral to a meaningful life of service in solidarity with the poor. In other words, if I think of World Vision’s mission as primarily about doing (false dualism, but...), then Ken’s focus on being with God affirmed the inextricable relationship between doing and being, “faith and works,” action and contemplation, being loved and loving well.

2. “When we’re ‘full,’ our materialist cravings decrease” - I appreciated this straightforward reminder that one of the benefits of intentionally spending time with God is that some of our habitual drives for stuff, security, control and validation lose their power. Instead of going on a “diet’ to address all the self-and-neighbor-sabotaging patterns in my life, I can instead shift my attention to getting “full” on good stuff, God stuff. Sounds funner.

3. “Wearing the yoke of God’s love” - Probably the image Ken returned to the most in his talk was of learning to wear the yoke that Jesus wore, which, he suggested, was the love of the Father for him. That reminded me of Anne Lamott and Father Greg Boyle both recently quoting William Blake when describing the life task of learning to “bear the beams of love:”

   And we are put on earth a little space,

   That we may learn to bear the beams of love.

When I think of “bearing,” I usually think of pain, suffering or confusion - not bearing “love.” But indeed, learning to be a beloved of God takes practice, and involves a different kind of pain  - the pain of being vulnerable, forgiven, implicated, included, trusted, trusting, and dependent. I was really moved by being in a setting where you’d think the emphasis would be on the need for “harvesters,” and instead attention was paid to the quality and integrity of the “yoked.”

In short, it was enriching, inspiring, and challenging. Everything they were probably hoping for.

:) Vanessa

Abbey Focus Workshop #3: The with-God-life

This is a recap of the Abbey workshop on Monday night during Kaleo Focus. We have been thinking about what it looks like to pay attention in 3 directions: inward (at the self, with God), outward (at others, with God), and upward (at God, with God’s help!). There are three spiritual disciplines that undergird each of these directions, and can be remembered by the phrase: Stop, Look, and Listen.

• In March we looked at ways to STOP or pause, namely via silence and solitude.

• Last month we talked about ways to LOOK and increase our awareness via a regular inventory like prayer of examen.

• This month we focused on how “looking upward” at God changes the shape of our lives “down here,” with lectio divina (or Holy LISTENing) as the recommended contemplative practice.

This last workshop had me reflecting on the importance of a well-rounded integration of:

• the three “directions” (inward, outward, upward),
• Nouwen’s three spiritual disciplines for remaining a faithful disciple of Jesus (solitude, community, and ministry),
• and the three bedrock contemplative genres (stop, look, and listen).  

I had been thinking about them all as a “three-legged-stool” but while preparing for Monday, was picturing discipleship more like a ferris wheel. In reality, we hop on when we can, and when there’s an opening. For some of us that’s through community, others during a really compelling ministry, and others via some loss that catapults us into solitude with God. The point is not to stay in that spot perpetually, however,  but to keep cycling through these different important aspects of our faith, giving special attention to the directions or disciplines we don’t naturally operate in.

Although the “upward” direction (paying attention God; living in light of Christ) is initially really appealing to me, in reality it’s a full-bodied and paradigm-challenging invitation. The with-God-life challenges my perspective on:

1. Death - True spirituality isn’t necessarily “good for our health,” in that it may lead to our physical death (like Jesus and 11 of his original disciples), and surely to the death of our false selves, perhaps several times over. “There are some things worse than death. To deny one’s integrity of personality in the presence of the human challenge is one of those things.” - Howard Thurman, Jesus and the Disinherited

2. Life after death - Remembering heaven, and not only as the place “up there,” but the renewed earth down here with Jesus personally present, which seems like the long-term plan...

3. Time - Not as something I own, but as something I’m swept into, and as a means of salvation (2 Peter 3:15)

4. Patience - As a basic constituent of the Christian life; not as a necessary evil, or something to get through, but as a posture to be found at peace in (2 Peter 3:14-15)

5. Joy - Well-being of the soul, but not necessarily well-being emotionally, circumstantially or economically; a joy that isn’t removed from pain and suffering but often found in, through, and alongside them

6. Success - As fruitfulness (not expertise or rightness), which we may never get the satisfaction of seeing, knowing, identifying, or tasting ourselves, and borne out of pain, vulnerability and losses (“The fruits of your life come only after the plow has carved through your land.” - Henri Nouwen, Moving from Solitude to Community to Ministry)

Lectio divina, which means “holy” or “divine reading,” is even better understood as “holy listening," because its basic presupposition is that God speaks, making us the “spoken to” (how dignifying, radical and needed!).  Although it’s mainly understood as a prayerful way of engaging this God-who-still-speaks in Scripture - in order to hear God’s personal word for us - “holy listening” can be a posture in all of life as well. We can look for God’s personal word to us in art, in music, after a conversation, a meeting, at the end of a year, or after watching a show. The goal of lectio divina (or lectio on life), isn’t to become an expert at anything or to collect nuggets of insight, but to more and more deeply internalize God’s love for us and develop a palate for God’s truth in our lives. The way Jesus accessed and embodied the Old Testament Scripture during some of his most uncomfortable and painful moments (think the wilderness and the cross), is a model for what it can look like to really meditate on and digest God’s words to us and for us.

These are some of the things we talked about on Monday night. :)

Take-Aways from Shane + World Vision

A few weeks ago - along with some of you - I went to hear Shane speak a couple times at Victoria’s first Starfields festival. It was great. We lived near Shane and Katie in Philadelphia so it was fun for me to feel worlds “colliding” a bit here. Then yesterday morning I went to a Victoria Church Leaders Forum with World Vision and heard from Keith Stewart, a pastor in Texas doing really inspiring things with his church in their community.

I gathered a few inspirations, observations, and questions from what I heard from the two events. If you were at any of them (or even if you weren’t), I’d love to hear what you think too!

First Take-Away: Talking can really help.

I remember how much I resonated as a late 20-something with Richard Rohr’s statement that we aren’t "changed by sermons but by experiences," and that we don’t “think our way into new ways of living,” but rather “live our way into new ways of thinking.” I still agree, BUT these two events reminded me how good and important talking can be on the way. We walk and we talk. The journey isn’t once and done, the talk informs our walk, and our walk informs our talk. I'm now realizing the Shema already said this: “These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. TALK about them when you 1) sit at home, 2) walk along the read, 3) lie down, and 4) when you get up.” Right.

Second Take-Away: Such question-provoking quotes!

All the talks got me thinking so much, wondering a lot, and asking myself questions. Katie Withrow told me that this was the main thing she got from hearing Shane too: a broadened imagination. Asking “What if….?" about this and that and this person and this problem...wondering with God about the radical life and opportunities for growth and life and engagement right under our noses. Here are some of the quotes that broadened my imagination and some of the questions that followed:

“So often those of us with resources still aren’t often in relationship with people without resources.”

Shane referred to someone saying the (North American) church has a “compassion problem,” but he took it further and said we have a “relationship problem,” not often enough in relationship with people without resources, because that draw towards cultural and socio-economic similarity (and status quo) is so strong, and largely unquestioned. He shared how Mother Teresa said that the “circle we put around our families is far too small,” and that although it may “become fashionable to talk about the poor, it will probably never become fashionable to talk to the poor.” Wow.

Made me wonder: 

Who are the people with very little resources in my life right now? What would it look like to prioritize relating with them more, and more mutually? How could I cross paths with people with less resources than me more often? What little things could I change? Any big things?

 

“You are what you eat.”

When Shane spent time with the sisters of Calcutta in India, he was included in their daily 5am prayer and communion. When he asked why they took communion so regularly, one nun said: “Well you know the phrase, ‘You are what you eat?’ That’s what we’re going for.” He said their posture in prayer was the same: it wasn’t about saying anything, but just “soaking up Jesus” so that when they touched someone that day, it would be Jesus touching the person, and when they looked at someone, it would be Jesus’ eyes seeing that person.

Made me wonder:

What if I saw prayer as a “soaking in and up” rather than something I do/perform/complete? What prevents me from seeing myself - my expressions, communication, interactions - as a conduit of Christ’s presence and love? What would it be like to “soak up” Christ one morning, and spend the day assuming God’s love was flowing through me?

 

“For some reason, God wants to change the world with us.”

Shane shared that one of his favorite miracle stories is the feeding of the 5,000, and that his favorite part is that the little boy who offered up his lunch got to be part of the miracle, as well as the disciples. Jesus could have done it all himself, but he involved them: “For some reason, God wants to change the world with us.”

Made me wonder:

How does God want to change my corner of the world with me? How does God want to change Victoria with us? How IS God changing Victoria with us? Where is the Spirit’s renewal activity already evident? What should we join? What am I drawn to?

“Don’t chase issues.”

Keith Stewart quoted a friend (who I picked up from the airport once in Philly!) who told him this, as his church was wondering “what to do” about the poor. The implication was that God’s invitation wasn’t something to be ran down “out there”  but rather awakened to “in here.”

Made me wonder:

What are our blind spots as a church? Who among us needs to be fed, touched, visited? Whose cause needs to be understood and defended? Who might not “have a voice” in our church? What jams people up in Victoria? What isn’t fair?

Third Take-Away: So what now?

Well, I feel totally roused from sleep. Not once and for all, and not from a deep sleep, but from one of my many half-naps. Here are some of my plans:

• Tell you about it so that I’m held accountable to following through on some of what Shane and Keith stirred up in me.

• Have our May Evensong as a walk and talk, specifically, walking down Pandora, looking for shapes of suffering and signs of hope, stopping a few times to pray a different version of the Lord’s Prayer, and then convening at a coffee shop downtown to share observations, inklings, and ideas about next steps as individuals and as a church.

• Keep walking, and talking (with you)! (If the comments work, please throw any of your reactions, questions, or ideas into the mix!)

Abbey Focus Workshop #2: The Role of Others in our Spiritual Formation

This is a recap of the Abbey workshop on Monday night during Kaleo Focus. We have been thinking about what it looks like to pay attention in 3 directions: inward (at the self, with God), outward (at others, with God), and upward (at God, with God’s help!). There are three spiritual disciplines that undergird each of these directions, and can be remembered by the phrase: Stop, Look, and Listen. Last month we talked about “stopping” practices, namely silence and solitude, which help us “stop” our frantic activity (within and without) and make space to listen to God and be exposed to God’s healing love in deeper ways.

This month we talked about the role of “others” in our spiritual formation, remembering how our own development is inextricably indebted to and reliant on an “outward” focus, or an ability to pay attention to, make space for, include, love others, and receive love from others. We began with this go-around question: Who is someone that you’re really indebted to, who was important to you at a particular point in your life, or who you really blossomed around? (Don’t think too hard; share the first person that comes to mind.) We then got to hear - more beautifully than I would have been able to “teach” - the ways God uses people to communicate God’s love in very specific and life-saving ways.

The main question we ended up working with was:

What can it look like to have an “outward” focus - a readiness to identify with, include, and love others - while living within our limits and staying replenished by our ultimate source (God)?

I offered these 5 observations about sustaining an “outward” focus:

1. It’s complicated

   1. Our culture’s hyper-individualism says we can do anything we want (if we really want it and are savvy enough) and that we can meet our own needs. Church (and nonprofit) culture, on the other hand, can be hyper-others-ism, encouraging an uncritical outward focus (or “servanthood”) that can actually be more about image maintenance or self-protection than actually loving others, and leading to feelings of failure, burnout, or resentment. Like Paul (kind of said): things aren’t always what they seem. We need God to help us sort out what a healthy outward focus looks like for each of us.

1. We can’t talk about “others” without talking about “self”

   1. One way to hear Jesus’ commandment is as “Love your OTHERS as yourSELF.” Life - and love! - is one who cloth: when you tug at one end, another end flutters. As much as it might “feel” like it, “There is no outside (the) text” (Derrida). We can’t stand “outside” of ourselves and love others “purely,” just like we can’t stand “outside” the church, noting the brokenness we see, without acknowledging our complicity. I’m making this sound like bad news (which it is sometimes), but it’s also good news! It means that our ability to love others is inextricably tied to our own sense of our belovedness; we aren’t expected to “output” without the “input.”

1. It takes a group to know a person, and it takes a group to know God

   1. In The Four Loves, CS Lewis has a great story about how each person in a (small) group brings something unique out of each other person. When one person isn’t there, you’d think you might be able to get “more” out of each other (less people = more time). But Lewis says it’s the opposite - you actually get “less” out of each person because you don’t have that person who brings out something only they bring out in each.  That’s a long way of saying we get “more” of God through one another, and more of God’s image is brought out in us by doing life with others.

1. An outward focus starts “at home”

   1. Any ethic for loving others has to include the “furniture” of our lives - the people that we most take for granted, see the most, pass the most, use the most, forget about the most. It can be strangely easy to drum up feelings for loving “capital O” “Others,” and forget that includes the (unglamorous) others we live with or work with or sit in pews with. Like Anne Lamott posted on Facebook a few years ago: “Earth is Forgiveness School. You might as well start at the dinner table. That way you can do this work in comfortable pants.”

1. An outward focus will take us “out of our way”

   1. Among other things, Jesus’ whole ministry can be characterized as one of crossing boundaries: divine/human, clean/unclean, religious/gentile, heaven/earth, etc. Taking the great commandment seriously means we will go out of our way to include, identify with, and love others. I remember reading in the parenting book, Blessing of the Skinned Knee, about the Jewish custom of crossing the street whenever you see someone you remotely know. Having the margins, and priority, to “cross the street” for others is one way I understand having an outward focus. In his lent devotional, Walter Brueggemann imagines a church with an “outward” focus, describing it as people who “foot the bill for neighborliness and mercy when we have many other bills to pay,” and who “pay attention to those disqualified by the capitalist system.”

A tool: LOOK (daily awareness)

Sustaining a healthy “outward” focus, however, requires discernment and “cross-pollination” with the inward and upward focuses. One great tool for discernment is the prayer of examen, also known as daily awareness, daily inventory or review, or LT3F. This practice, grounded in Psalm 139, gives a chance to pay attention to our real lives, become familiar with the Voice of the Good Shepherd,  and sort out the invitations from God from our default instinct and feelings, which may or may not be leading us to love God, self, and others more. Those who came to the Abbey workshop took home a Daily Examen workbook, to try for a week or longer. Feel free to print one out or make something similar to use yourselves (*it’s formatted to be printed out as two double-sided sheets, and then folded in half).

Abbey Focus Workshop #1: Leading with an Inner Life

A Kaleo Abbey workshop

This is a recap of the workshop I led on Monday night for Kaleo. I wanted to practice simplifying the idea more, and thought perhaps some of you might enjoy having a “peek” into the still-forming Abbey track, or into Kaleo, or into a more clarified version of what those of you who were there heard on Monday night :D.

Contemplative Leadership

If I had to say what “the Abbey” + discipleship looks like, I’d call it “contemplative leadership.” The word contemplative connotes old-man-stroking-chin-image at first for me, but I’m using it in relation to its latin definition, which is “the act of looking at.” It’s a seeing-kind-of-knowing more than a thinking-(stroking chin)-kind -of-knowing. And our “seeing” of anything is predicated on God’s prior (and truer) “gaze” on us (“This is love: not that we loved God but that He loved us…” - 1 John 4:10). Here are 3 implications of contemplative leadership:

1. Contemplative leadership is a way of living and leading where there is a commitment to regularly being “seen” by God, or remembering and making space for our own selves to be known, loved, forgiven, remade, and resourced by God along the way (and there are as many ways to do that as their are personalities!).

2. Contemplative leadership is also about being disciplined in contemplative practices, with Nouwen’s definition of discipline as “the effort to create some space in which God can act,” and as “preventing everything from being filled up.”  In other words, contemplative leadership keeps checking in with God, keeps making space for God to intervene, surprise, reveal, reroute, and refill, via some regular (and keepable, customizable, life-stage-modifiable) spiritual disciplines.

3. Contemplative leadership also prioritizes sustainability, then, and relies on regular reflection. Rather than always operating in “the urgent,” or moving on from one thing to the next, the contemplative orientation asks: is this working for me? Is this working for those closest to me? Is leading like this sustainable? Are my means reflective of the “end” goals? Am I modeling the kind of faith and discipleship I “preach?”

3 Directions and 3 Practices:

Being present as a leader involves looking in three directions:

inward (at the self),

outward (at others), and

upward (at God).

Although the Holy Spirit enables and courses through each, and although we often are looking in all directions simultaneously to a certain degree, there are practices that can help us make sure we are taking the Great Commandment seriously,  loving God (upward), and loving our neighbor (outward) as ourselves (inward). Three of the oldest spiritual disciplines that support a life of faith can be remembered by the (road safety) adage:

Stop: contemplative pausing via solitude and silence

Look: contemplative awareness via regular inventory (i.e. prayer of examen)

Listen: contemplative hearing via lectio divina (spiritual, personal engagement with Scripture)

Stop, Look, and Listen.* Reminds me of elementary school, but also of Jesus: “Repent! For the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand,” “for those who have ears to hear,” and “I came so that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” Stop, Look, and Listen also reminds me of Paul’s refrain to stay “awake,” unlike those who sleep, and to remain “alert.”

*my friend Wil Hernandez came up with this

Solitude, Silence and STOPping as a leader:

1. Solitude:

In order to be able to minister to and love others well, we have to allow our real self and our real life to be ministered to and loved well by God. Solitude isn’t just for introverts and isn’t just about being away from people - it’s about intentionally being alone with God. Henri Nouwen describes prayer as an act of solitude and listening: “To pray is to listen to the One who calls you, ‘My beloved son,’ ‘My beloved daughter.’ To pray is to let that voice speak to the center of your being, to your guts and let that voice resound in your whole being.”

Some of us spend a lot of our days (or days “off”) alone. Much of that time could be “solitude with God,” but it isn’t necessarily, if we don’t have eyes to see it or use it like that. Solitude with God is about intentionally “withdrawing” from the “crowds” (others) and the noise all around us, in order to hear again God’s pronouncement over us and provision for us in our real lives. Solitude with God can be as little as a contemplative walk, or worship in the car, or a few minutes of prayer at the foot of the bed, and as big as a personal retreat.

       2. Silence

One way of cultivating that deep, grounding, resounding identity in God is through the practice of prayer that is more silent than it is talkative, that is more about listening and returning and being-with than it is about formulating, expressing, or supplicating. Centering prayer and Contemplative prayer are two names for praying in silence. Of course we can’t achieve perfect “inner” silence, but the heart of praying in silence is a presenting of our whole selves - our physical bodies and souls and unknown inner recesses, not just our minds or our talking - to God, and to trust that being in God’s presence brings healing and transformation, often in hidden ways that we don’t necessarily feel or understand.

When praying in silence, our minds will start veering away from God’s loving presence, and when they do, we can use a simple word (“Jesus”) or verse (“In repentance and rest is your salvation” or “Be still and know that I am God”) to release whatever we got to thinking about and return our attention back to God’s love, reality, and presence. Over time we might notice that our “surrender” muscles have grown - that we’re able to let go of some of our deeply held resistances (to being alone, to not talking, to not being “productive,” to not being in control, for some examples :D). Gradually, praying via “silence” (although again, it’s rarely ever truly silent) can help God’s truth sink down from our heads into our hearts, unlocking places of pain and longing in us that we don’t necessarily have words for or didn’t even know was there.

       3. STOPping:

Of the Stop, Look, and Listen model, “stopping” as a leader means remembering that at any point, on any day, we can pause and check-in:

“Oh right: GOD! You exist. Sorry I forgot about you all day so far,”

“Whoa, what’s going on? Why am I freaking out right now?” or

“Hey God, it’s me, Vanessa. I don’t know what to say to this person right now. Help?”

It also means we can plan to pause every so often (nightly, weekly, monthly, quarterly, or yearly) and check-in: where was God today/this month/this year? What is God inviting me into? What am I avoiding? Where am I in terms of what I was aiming for? Is my way of doing things working?

In other words, STOPping can be as little (and as creative) as:

• Pressing “pause”: Taking a beat in your day and mind-cycle when you notice you’re anxious, distracted, obsessing or on autopilot - taking a couple deep breaths; remembering the Lord, and asking what to do

• “Crossing” yourself when you get up in the morning as a “pre-verbal” sort of prayer, remembering your forgiveness for the past, and God’s promised grace for whatever the day holds (*taken from Martin Marty’s practice in Liturgy of the Ordinary)

• Using doors as “cues” - taking a breath, looking “up,” murmuring a breath prayer when you walk through a door into a place (home, friend’s house, work, school, church, restaurant, etc.)

• Pausing mid-meeting to check in with yourself: where are you at? What are you hearing? What are you feeling?

• On the drive “home” (after anything) - What do You want me to hear? Retain? Act on?

• Lighting a candle during dinner, a bath, a hang out, a meeting - anytime you want to remember God’s presence

• Meeting with a spiritual director (this has changed my life!)

• Keep a weekly Sabbath

• Going on “artist dates” (i.e. solo, creative dates with God, doing things that are life-giving to you in particular)

• Working on a Rule for Life

• Writing down your nighttime dreams and bringing the questions from them into prayer

• Being intentional about getting enough sleep and having a bedtime routine that frames going to sleep as part gratitude (for the day past), part surrender (as a creature to our Creator) and part trust (for GOd’s provision tomorrow)

• Making space to exercise

• Doing a daily Examen (next month’s LOOK practice)

• Using our “vacation days” and holidays re-creatively

STOPping can also be as “big” as:

• 20 minutes of silent prayer a day

• Weekly sabbath keeping

• Monthly day retreat

• Yearly (longer) retreat

In summary, contemplative leadership is a way of leading from the heart - with intentionality, healthy (and growing) self-awareness, spaciousness (“preventing everything from being filled up”) and an eye toward sustainability (is this working, what I want, what God wants?). Contemplative leadership necessitates looking in three directions: inward (at one’s one self, story, life), outward (at others), and upward (at God). Three practices that ground these “directions” can be summed up with the phrase Stop, Look and Listen, referring to the practices of silence, daily examen, and lectio divina.

When it comes to the “inward” direction - paying attention to the self - the discipline of solitude (being alone with God on purpose) and silence (presenting and surrendering ourselves to God’s loving presence) are helpful in developing a healthy identity in Christ and experiencing ongoing healing and transformation. Finding ways to “STOP” in our days, weeks, and years not only reminds us of creatureliness - our dependence on God - but also of the ever-present invitation to join God in His renewal of all things.

Happy Half Lent!

3 Reasons and 5 Ways to get into the second half

Elaine taught me a new word this week: laetare. Laetare Sunday is the fourth Sunday in the season of Lent, marking the mid-way point. Surprisingly (to me), it means “rejoice,” and from what I gather, it’s to be a pause or reprieve from the fasts of Lent with an eye towards Easter. Other words for the day are “Mothering Sunday,” and “Refreshment Sunday.” Sounds nice. I guess it’s like the water station or massage table at the midway mile of a marathon (do they have those? I wouldn’t know).

Anyways, it got me thinking about the first half of Lent. How I started off the season like I do the new year - with anticipation that it could be good, with a sense of what to resist (or fast), and with the memory that things don’t always go as planned. And my fast hasn’t gone as planned. I feel a bit overwhelmed with just life chores and all the possible time investments. The weather was really cold and then really warm; some of the cherry blossoms have bloomed and fallen, others haven’t at all.

I don’t want to give up or write-off the season just because here at the halfway point I’m not sure what to make of it. I wondered if some of you might be in the same place (?), so I wrote out a few reasons why we should do the second half of the marathon, even if we are not where we thought we’d be, and even if we never started it at all.

3 Reasons

1. Lent - of all seasons - is about starting again:

   Lent isn’t about success, it’s about faithfulness. It isn’t about doing it right, but about not being able to do it right, and realizing again that we need a Savior. I wish I prepared a little bit more for Lent so that I had a keepable plan, but I didn’t. Here I am, halfway through the wilderness, needing God to point the way forward. So be it.

2. Lent’s not over yet:

   Every year we observe Lent again, we learn how to wait for Easter, we fast before we feast, we face Christ’s cry of abandonment, we hear crickets on Holy Saturday, and we hope to wake to New Life on Easter. I don’t know how it (the Christian liturgical calendar) works, and I don’t know how the paschal mystery works, but I know it works on me whether I can articulate it all or not. It’s worth paying attention and showing up for the last half of Lent, for Holy Week, for an Easter feast, even if we weren’t there for Ash Wednesday. It’s not all or nothing. Christ saved us while we were still sinners, not after we finally got it all together and were there from the start.

3. 
   The alternative - writing Lent off or writing ourselves off - isn’t good for anyone (or necessary!):

   Lent, like all of life, is a group project. It matters that we show up - as a testament to our own lives and to each other’s. We have a hard enough time as it is claiming our own dignity, we don’t need another reason to be disqualified from the life of the church, from the yearly Christian seasons. What’s the alternative anyways? Laying low and waiting it out, thinking we’ll do better next time, we’ll come next time, we’ll come later, we’ll wait until we’re ready, or better, or know more, or have more? That’s an illusion that keeps us stuck (telling myself as much as anyone else). And it’s boring and depressing. Lent is a time for that famous axiom: If not now, when? If now here, where? If not with these people, then with whom? (Last part my addition.)

5 Ways

Lent has also got me thinking about some of the creative ways to engage the season that might not be as typical as sugar or social media fasts (as good as those are). Here are a few ideas in case you’re looking for some inspiration:

1. Go on an Artist date:

   It’s easy to think of discipline as getting rid of enjoyable things, like coffee, or Netflix or sugar or alcohol. But what about embracing “enjoyment” as a discipline for the last half of Lent? Looking for opportunities to do something just for the sake of enjoying it, and not for any ulterior purpose? In The Artist’s Way Julia Cameron recommends a weekly “artist date” with oneself - a book at the beach, a solo museum walk, laying in a sun patch, etc. It’s a little cheesy but Lent made me think of them as “Artist dates,” i.e. with Artist God in God’s good creation.

2. Suffer with Christ in small ways:

   I can get all inspired by the big “S” suffering with Christ ideas that I miss out on all the small opportunities throughout my day to connect little inconveniences or longings with Christ. Similarly, I can have plans to do a big “F” fast (like sugar once and for all, or 24 hours without a meal), and miss out on connecting a hunger pang with Christ. What if, whenever I had a small suffering, I connected it with Christ, instead of indefinitely preparing to big “S” suffer with Christ? For example:

   1. (Trouble sleeping) → I’m restless with you, Christ.

   2. (Sad) → I’m sad with you, Christ.

   3. (Yawn) → I’m tired with you, Christ.

   4. (Shiver) →  I’m cold with you, Christ.

   5. (Hunger pang) → (to myself) I’m hungry with you, Christ.

3. Reframe embarrassment:

   I recently  flew from Toronto to Vancouver and nodded off in my middle seat, doing at least a dozen of those mid-sleep-head-jerks. How embarrassing! In the moment I thought that surely I was the only one who noticed, but when I was fully awake I realized my seat-mates definitely saw me. These little embarrassing moments - nodding off on the plane, walking out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck on our shoe, realizing our zipper is down or that we have spinach in our teeth - can remind us of our finitude, our creaturliness, our limitedness. Like 4 year olds that squeal in the elevator, “I farted!” (weekly :{), what if we consciously embraced the little embarrassing moments that inevitably happen as very Lenten appropriate reminders of our limits, dustiness, and dependence?

4. Stay bored:

   I’ve always kind of proudly said that I could never get bored. I think of myself as always overwhelmed, always not doing everything I want to do, always inspired by some project I would work on if only I had time. That’s maybe partly true, but my phone has taught me that I am definitely not above boredom. Even if my mind doesn't think I’m a bore-able person, my scrolling thumb betrays otherwise. I’ve developed a dread of boredom through my habit of checking my phone or social media whenever there’s a dull moment, or when I’m waiting in line, or on hold, or don’t know what to do with myself. One idea for Lent is to embrace those lulls when they fall on us as a gift to be received rather than a space to be filled - like going to the bathroom without a phone (!), sitting on the bus and people watching, waiting in line at the bank with just a smile on our face, etc. Lent is a good time to sanction any moment that could otherwise be “multitasked” as good-in-itself, a tangible expression of the waiting and watching that is Lent.

5. Just decide to come to stuff:

   If all else fails, I think just coming to Big Table, Neighborhood Table, Good Friday and Easter is worthwhile in itself. Gathering as a church (even if we don’t know how we feel about the Church) and being “submitted to” the liturgies of eating together, singing together, praying together, passing the peace together, small-talking together, smiling at the babies together, and saying hellos and goodbyes together does something to us below the level the of our cognition, “under the hood,” so to speak. We don’t have to feel something in worship or to understand everything about worship for it to be forming us and healing us, slowly but surely. So if nothing else (and if it doesn't cause you pain or shame or undue confusion) just come to all the stuff and see.

Ok, those are some midway Lent thoughts. Happy Laetare week! And see you at stuff.

:) Vanessa

7 Observations from the Prayer Vigil for Bishop Trevor

A week ago today was the 24 hour prayer vigil for Bishop Trevor(pictured above). It was good to do and surprisingly enjoyable. 8 people joined in person over the 4 hours, and some of you prayed at home. I keep thinking about what I learned from it, so thought I’d share 7 of my observations so far.

1. It reminded me that healing was a major part of Jesus’ ministry on earth, so much so that sometimes He seemed to heal indiscriminately, just left and right, and all of them. (?)

Whoa. For all the ways I follow Jesus, praying for others’ healing isn’t ‘a major part of my life of ministry. Should it be (more)?

2. It made me wonder if intercessory prayer doesn’t have to be so much about formulating what we think God could/should do for a person (which can be intimidating and overwhelming), as much as listening for how the Spirit may already be praying for and working in the person’s life, and “joining” in that, or just holding in prayer the expectation that God will do what is best for them.

Practically this partly just feels like a posture thing - starting with the reminder that God knows this person or situation, that God’s love and ways are beyond my understanding, and the Holy Spirit is already ministering to the person. Then instead of wondering about how I fit in or can contribute to the prayer for this person, I might instead open to God and express my desire to see/hear/join what God is already doing. I’m not sure if it leads to a different “outcome” but a few of us tried this posture during the first hour of our time and it felt like “intercessory presence” more than “intercessory prayer” in a way (although they’re ideally the same thing!).

3. It reminded me how prayer for others fans the faith flame.

Spending some time praying for Trevor fanned the flame of faith within me (and those who came I’m guessing :D) and in the first and last hour we prayed for others, with more expectation, I think, than if we hadn’t spent time in that orientation.

4. It was a memento mori opportunity.

As you may know, “memento mori” means “remember you will die,” and has been a practice (or posture) in Christian spirituality. Saint Benedict, in his rule, said to “keep the prospect of death before your eyes everyday.” Lent, of all seasons, reminds us not only of our frailty - that “we are dust” - but also that we will die - “to dust we will return.” Of course, though, I don’t normally “keep the prospect of death before my eyes everyday.” But I did that night! I couldn’t pray for Trevor without facing - in a more direct way - the reality of death. I had thought about how nice it would be to be at COOL, to pray with others, to worship, but I forgot it would mean 4 hours of also sitting with frailty, finitude, pain, fear, uncertainty. It was good for me: perspective-making, awe-and-gratitude-inducing, humility-deepening.

5. It’s fun and better (in lots of ways) praying with another person

Time flies when you’re praying with others compared to praying alone! At least for me.

6. It’s awkward and vulnerable praying with another person

For 3 of the 4 hours it was just me and another person (each of the pastors). It was a little awkward. I hang out one-on-one with people all the time, so that wasn’t it - it was the nature of prayer. Prayer can be very casual and conversational, but there’s an aspect of it that is also so personal and vulnerable, and therefore, there’s an intimacy to it. It wasn’t awkward-bad, but I’m just noting that prayer-with-others might require pushing through some awkwardness. (And I totally think it’s worth it.)

7. It felt dignifying to be included in something bigger, something happening on purpose for 24 hours

All week leading up to it, “March 1st” to me wasn’t just the day to drop off our rent check, or feel that much closer to spring, but was bookmarked in my mind as “that 24 hour prayer vigil.” Suddenly, happily, my “worldly” calendar got co-opted by the liturgical calendar again, albeit a local, customized one. In a small way, it felt like a mini-holiday, because it was something I was participating in that was bigger than me, that other people were doing too, and it was “for a good cause.” As “small” a thing as it may have been, it still was better than an average day for all these reasons. In other words, my year could use a few other 24 hour prayer vigils. Makes me wonder: what should we pray for?

Lastly, for the spiritual realm record, here are some things that were prayed for:

• Envelope - The verb “envelope” was used 3x by different people in 3 hours; for God to envelope Trevor in comfort, peace and healing

• Cocoon - that God would wrap Trevor as in a cocoon

• Daily necessities - that God would provide the daily needs for Trevor, like friendship, conversation, levity, family

• Courage in the face of uncertainty - for all Trevor’s faith, this still must be uncertain and unsettling

• Shepherd - for God to be like a good shepherd to Trevor

• Sermons + Hymns - that some of the hymns Trevor knows by heart would come to mind (and heart) when he needs it; same with his sermons

• Plea to stay - prayed that God would not take Trevor, but keep him here for longer

• Glory now too - just as God’s glory has been revealed through Trevor’s ministry and vitality, so may God’s glory be revealed through this season of weakness and uncertainty

• Arms outstretched - image of Trevor standing in a receiving position, with arms outstretched; this pray-er saw this pillow in the sanctuary and said it looked like her image!