Advent Longings...Advent Peace

The hawk returned this Advent to hunt the birds that feed and shelter in my backyard.  She is a year older - no longer the awkward 'tween of last year who still hadn't mastered her landings.  The first telltale sign of her presence was a pile of quail feathers by the deck (now covered in snow).  Snow covers everything in my backyard today - it will be a white Christmas for sure.  White snow covering the feathers...white sky all the way to the horizon...white snow falling from the sky.  It is a peaceful scene - yet there she sits on a tree branch as still as can be - waiting for the smallest flap of a wing to show her the way to her next meal.  Death and beauty sitting outside my window - together.

This is a complicated world.  She is so beautiful.  As are the birds she hunts.  I root for the quail and the mourning doves and the little spurdies she feasts on.  And yet I confess that she has a place in my heart, too.  Those beautiful words from Isaiah that speak of the peaceable kingdom express my longings this Advent - O that the hawk and the quail would graze on seed together...O that those who are sharply divided in our nation would come together on common ground and throw a party where people laugh and tell stories and forget that they are enemies.  O that the never-ending-ever-evolving-always-present mess in the geopolitical area surrounding the cave where animals sheltered the newborn Jesus would know peace.  O that the families facing heartbreaking circumstances would experience healing and joy. O...O...O...

...O how I long for the peaceable kingdom!

This Advent has been an interesting journey - a departure, in so many ways, from my decades old routine.  I began Advent "early" on November 15th, choosing to be French - or Celtic - or Orthodox in my observance of a forty day period before Christmas.  Part of that choice was for self preservation - 2016 has been wickedly difficult in so many ways!!!!!  Since Advent is my favorite season, more seemed better.  I even hauled out the boxes of Christmas decorations thinking I would decorate early this year.  I dusted off my Advent devotionals and purchased a few new ones to try.  During the week of Thanksgiving I got my Advent wreath out and placed new pure beeswax candles in it - just so I was ready on the Eve of the 1st Sunday of Advent.  Normally I take my advent devotionals and put them near the wreath, using my devotional time each day to read them by the light of the purple and pink candles.  But this was no normal Advent - and more was not better.  Much to my surprise, more quickly became less as I followed that quiet inner prompting.  The decorations are still in their boxes (they may come out today).  The academic books I was reading got put away and the devotionals replaced them.  And the devotionals were read slowly - they were savored - read not like academic works, but like one reads the the sky - or the face of a dear friend.  And they were not read at the Advent wreath.

As for my time each day at the Advent wreath - that changed completely.  No longer distracted by reading devotionals, I instead lit the requisite candle(s) and then just sat in God's presence.  To keep myself honest I used my hour glass to set the time (actually it is a fifteen-minute-glass).  The first few days I was fidgety and my mind raced at breakneck pace.  But slowly my monkey mind and tense body began to relax and welcome this time with God.  No agenda - no list of petitions - no inspirational reading to keep me comfortably distracted - just candlelight and silence and the desire to be in God's presence.

I would like to tell you that because of these new practices circumstances magically changed and the world around me became the longed for peaceable kingdom...that the people I loved were miraculously healed and that suffering was ended.   But you know that isn't true.  Circumstances on December 23rd for citizens of this country and global village are as scary as they were when Advent began.  And dear loved ones still struggle with circumstances that would break mere mortals.  And yet...

...and yet I feel a peace deep within me that defies explanation.  Clearly this peace is not linked to circumstances.  I also feel a joy that again cannot be explained by anything external.  

Perhaps this peace and joy will be the foundation from which I can continue the work that slowly - one encounter at a time - births the peaceable kingdom into our world...the work that moves us away from dualistic thinking and embraces the both/and that leads to transformation.  The needs are so great - and my personal resources feel so damn inadequate.  And yet...somehow...the gifts that God has planted in my heart and the longing for the peaceable kingdom that God nurtures in my soul is enough to empower me to do my part.  It is enough.  I am enough.  God is enough.

Today I love both the hawk and the quail without turning away from either.  I watch the snow fall and warm my hands near the flame of a candle that has given both light and warmth for many hours.  And I smile as a warmth from deep within me overflows. 

With love and warmest wishes for a meaningful Advent and blessed Christmastide,

Kim

Waxwings, Lotion and a French Advent

During my years in Scotland I was blessed to live in a rural community with wise farmers who were willing to teach a toonser yankee quine (Translation: American woman from the city)  how to read the natural signs around me and plan accordingly.  Right now those who are in the know in rural Aberdeenshire are preparing for a long, deep winter (based on a bumper crop of Rowan berries and the arrival of large flocks of waxwings for whom yon berries are a delight).  Mind you, no one has ever done a double-blind study of the efficacy of using rowan berries and waxwings in predicting the severity of winter.  But if I were living in rural Aberdeenshire today, I would make sure the coal bunker was full and extra candles and matches were on hand for power cuts - signs read! 

We are almost to the Season of Advent - my favorite season in the church year.  Advent brings me a sense of joy and peace - of comfort - that right now I desperately need.  But it is also the season that calls us to pay attention - notice - read the signs!  In many ways it has been a bruising year, culminating in the November election trip through the looking glass.  Reading those signs gives me no peace, comfort or joy.  As a white, college educated middle class woman, my privilege will protect me from much of the tsunami of injustice that may be heading our way.  All I might face is an assault on my freedom to make choices about my body - and the ongoing pay inequity, discrimination and misogyny that all women face (especially those of us who work in vocations previously or currently dominated by men).  By comparison to many of my dear friends, colleagues, congregants and family members,  I will get off easy.  Privilege protects me.

Reading these signs deeply disturbs me.  How did we get here?  How did hate speech get normalized?  What can we do to understand the circumstances and choices that landed us here, and how can we use wisdom and insight to move us through this time of deep division?  Is there a way to heal the gaping wound that separates people in America and endangers so many?  

Healing and reconciliation have been parts of my ministry since Moses was a child.  I have worked with many conflicted churches over the years - and a few in which the chasm separating factions was like a ten mile wide flaming moat filled with hungry crocodiles and poison.  Those are hard swamps to drain.   In my ministry, all the churches but one said that they wanted to heal, but not all were willing or at a place where they could do the hard work needed to bring about deep and true healing (with one church wanting to continue the war until their opponents were beaten into submission or vanquished - sigh).   

My brother recently had back surgery and developed a post-operative infection.  In order for him to heal, it was not enough for the doctors to treat with lotion the redness and swelling of his back.  They instead needed to drain the infection that had developed around his spine and treat him with antibiotics for an extended period of time - getting to the root of the problem.   The redness and swelling were symptoms of the infection - treating them as the problem would ultimately prevent healing.  Churches that adopt the "lotion" strategy of soothing the symptoms without addressing the underlying causes rarely heal - usually they just wallpaper over the problem and glory on until it pops up (unexpectedly!) in another way.  Symptom relief is very seductive - especially when you are in pain.  But if chosen as the only response to a challenge, it will eventually fail and always disappoint.

Scholars wiser than I are providing insight into the dynamics that led to the rise of the alt-right and the election phenomenon that caught so many of us by surprise.  But we must not be seduced into thinking that hate speech and a Trump presidency are the issues - they are symptoms of a deeper problem that needs addressing.  These wise minds can point us toward the conversations needed to bring true healing to our nation.  But are we are willing to learn how to have hard conversations outside of the protective bubble or echo chamber in which most of us live?

The church can be a place where we can practice having hard conversations.  Perhaps if we practice within our bubble, we will gain confidence for having tough conversations outside our protective zone where they can facilitate healing and positive change.  Perhaps if we deliberately spend time associating with people who do not echo our thoughts and feelings, we will learn to see the people behind the labels and be reminded that they, too, are beloved of God and created in God's very image.

The day after the election, I found myself thinking that I needed to do a three or six month swap with a pastor in rural Indiana - I needed to be immersed in the experience of living with people whose viewpoint is the polar opposite of my own.   I had to break bread with them, listen to them, visit them and have the experience of standing in their shoes and seeing the world through their eyes.  Perhaps then I would understand their anger and fear.  I have a sabbatical coming up in two years - perhaps that would be a constructive way to spend that time.  But frankly I can think of seven thousand other ways I would rather spend my sabbatical (like watching waxwings eating Rowan berries)!  

And therein lies the rub - the kinds of conversations needed to heal our nation are not easy or comfortable.  Papering over them is much nicer to contemplate, as is going to war with those who disagree with me - especially when I make this a holy war to protect the vulnerable and marginalized.  I can beat my evil opponent fair and square and save the oppressed - marching into hell for a heavenly cause!  This kind of holy war has deep roots in Christianity, feels satisfying to contemplate and is the perfect way to perpetuate the problem.

I do not really want to go to war with anyone.  And I do not want to see the civil liberties of others denied through white christian male heterosexist nationalism.  How do I thread this needle?

I have no definitive answer to that question, but these steps might lead me in the right direction:  I can read and learn.  I can listen deeply to others who live outside of my protected echo chamber, and I can intentionally spend time with those who are not part of my tribe.  I can make sure I am maintaining balance in my life between self care (including tribe time) and service.  I can try to see others through God's eyes of love, and look for ways to follow the example of the angels and encourage others to not react from a place of fear.  And I can remember these wise words of Rumi:  Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have build against it.  A full time job, to be sure.

To foster self care I decided to be French for Advent.  Some churches in France maintain the tradition of celebrating Advent for the forty days before Christmas (a custom also found in some Celtic and Eastern Christian communities).  Since Advent is my very favorite season in the church year, I decided that this year early is definitely better.  I dusted off a beloved Advent devotional written by a French-American monk and was delighted to open its pages on November 15th.  Soon the Advent wreath will come out and new beeswax candles will scent the air with the fragrance I associate with Advent comfort and peace.  The television will be turned off and I will spend more time in silence.  I hope these rituals of spiritual self care will open me more deeply to God's presence and movement - helping me to dance more gracefully with God.  Perhaps that will fortify me to face the signs I see on the horizon and engage in responses that will foster honest conversations and healing.  

If only the only signs needing to be addressed were flocks of waxwings and their beloved berries!

Drawing strength and comfort from an early Advent fire,

Kim

Moving the Needle

I just finished my last doctoral class (not counting the post-class paper).  I usually take one class per year, but this year I felt compelled to finish the coursework in one summer.  Since the seminary was experimenting with 5 day intensive courses, I decided to take two classes and put this part of the DMin behind me.  The first class went very well, and as Multicultural Counseling is a good skill for any pastor to have, I signed up for that second course and started reading the very thick text book.  At the appointed time, I drove south and west, and spent the Fourth of July week in class.

Our class was composed of six students and one professor.  Of the seven of us, all were clergy of various flavors:  two were Roman Catholic Priests, one was a Reconstructionist Rabbi, one was a Mennonite Pastor, one was Presbyterian, and one was Christian Reformed - Korean.  I am UCC.  Among us we had three women and four men, and people from Ghana, Nigeria, Florida, North Carolina, Indiana, Idaho and California.  Of those living in America, three were first generation immigrants (from Argentina, Korea, and England).  Those from Africa were here on student visas.  We were mixed in terms of religions, countries of origin, race, ethnicity, culture, sexual orientation, marital status, economic status, political persuasion, and although everyone but the Rabbi was Christian, it was a highly diverse group of Christians (from far-right evangelical/conservative to far-left progressive).

For five days we sat around the table and talked about very hard topics, practicing active listening, problem-solving, and a variety of different counseling and group process strategies.  It was intense.  And it was not always easy.  Passions would flare, and the group would hold the energy until it could dissipate or redirect.  We stayed around the table while people of color were dying at the hands of the police, and police were dying at the hands of  - what shall we call him? A person of color?  A veteran?  A person with mental health challenges?  Someone in need of help?  We stayed around the table and brought our widely diverse perspectives to questions that seem almost too big to answer, and feelings that were hard to contain.

Seminary is a safe place to be during times of fear and uncertainty.  People spring into action and create spaces to pray, or talk, or grieve, or express anger and fear - loving arms go around the  seminary community so we can step into the larger community and minister to those who are also afraid and angry.  Some went to Oakland.  Some to local vigils.  Many will go to a large gathering in San Francisco tomorrow afternoon.  Seminary, like a local church, becomes the place people are equipped, supported, and "launched" into service.

What do we do in the face of this continuing violence that fractures along racial lines?  What do we do when communities of color are afraid of the police who are called to serve and protect them, and the police are afraid of violence from the communities they are sworn to serve and protect?

We gather.

We gather to comfort and support.  We gather to witness to the need for constructive, transformative conversation followed by action.  We listen and hear one another.  We talk honestly and deeply about the role systemic racism plays in our current reality, taking a long and hard look at how we are complicit (often unwittingly) with a racist system.  We have tough conversations about gun violence in America, and discuss creative and effective ways to curb gun violence.  We look at all aspects of our judicial system, from the police to the prisons and everything in between.  We refuse to engage in the politics of blame and shame that are such a part of this election cycle, and we hold our elected officials responsible for setting a tone of positive, cooperative leadership.

We meet one another, talk honestly and respectfully, solve difficult problems together and implement change.

The most important part of gathering around the table to talk is that the conversation is useless if those gathered around the table are just like "me."  Each of us can have conversations like that sitting in front of a mirror!  Instead, we need to gather and converse with people who are different from us - people who hold positions that are outside of our experience, and possibly hard for us to hear.  We must get out of our bubble of comfort and familiarity and listen. The conversation isn't going to be easy, and sometimes it will not uncomfortable.  But if it is honest, respectful and true, it will move the needle.  And the damn needle needs to move!

During my drive today I stopped in an obscure town in Nevada for gas and a break.  The young woman behind he counter welcomed some conversation.  I asked her about living in a town that, well, was a brief stopping place for people who needed gasoline, a bathroom break, or an impressive assortment of jerky.   She shared, with a big smile on her face, that she loved living in a city  (Winnemucca), but loved living here more.  "There is a creek behind the house, and I can go out back with my gun and shoot as much as I want.  I love being outdoors, and relaxing with my gun."   Well, we had some common ground on the outdoors part, but the gun is another story.  She was listening to a conservative radio talk show, and had a WWJD tattoo - a question that I think we might answer differently.   If we were to generate a quick list of things we have in common, it would be a very short list.  Except for the most important thing - we are both beloved of God, and created in God's very image.  And she is someone I need to get to know - because she sees a completely different world than I do.

I know what the world I see looks like.  I need to see the world through the eyes of those who see a very different world.  And have a very different experience.

This week has been shocking, and shame on any political leader who uses these tragedies to stoke fear and division!  Equally, shame on anyone who enters the situation with a big broom and desire to sweep these even bigger questions under the rug.  If you are white, you benefit directly from systemic racism - end of story.   You have privilege.  It is time to use that privilege in service of justice and transformation.

It's time to gather and have real, life-changing conversations - a process faith communities are uniquely positioned to facilitate. This must happen before this level of violence becomes our new normal, and we habituated to it, or become resigned.  Once resignation, despair or apathy settle in, it is harder to move the needle.  And the damn needle needs to move!

With love and prayers for transformative justice,
Kim

Darkness x (L + T + CD + Zusya) = Hope

It was around the Winter Solstice that I last wrote in this blog.  And now the Summer Solstice has arrived, and I continue to enjoy the light from the longest day.  I am back from my second-to-last DMin Course, with my head so full of information that it will take months to integrate.  The time between the longest night and longest day has been rich and full, but not without challenges.  Some challenges are the normal stuff of life; others packed a punch that was not appreciated.  I guess that, too, is the stuff of life.  

This is not the easy planet.  Or the fair planet.

I came through winter and into spring looking for some personal and vocational guidance.  I found both in Parker J. Palmer's book Let Your Life Speak.  He offers a simple yet brilliant observation:  "Before you tell your life what you intend to do with it, listen for what it intends to do with you.  Before you tell your life what truths and values you have decided to live up to, let your life tell you what truths you embody, what values you represent." As we look deeply into the story of our life and observe these facets of our true self, we can follow them into our present and its open questions - noticing when "way opens" and when "way closes," (to use phrases from the Quaker tradition).  Accepting that we can learn as much (and sometimes more) from "way closing" as from "way opening" brings wisdom.  Quieting down so we can listen to what is deep within us - and letting that guide us - in some ways parallels Maggie Ross's "work of silence" (from a brilliant but incredibly dense text called Silence: A User's Guide that was used in this most recent course).  

And that brings me to the three best words/phrases used last week in class:

Liminality (Maggie Ross): Living in that threshold space that includes attentive receptivity, beholding, paradox, insight, and an openness to the unfolding truth found in the infinite (through whatever name we call the infinite).  Liminal space is creative - and transformative.

Tensegrity (Buckminster Fuller via Mary Hess): An architectural term that is a portmanteau of tension plus integrity, applied also in understanding organizational structure and pastoral ministry (Mary Hess).  In this application, tensegrity refers to opposing forces causing stability through dynamic interaction.  Hmmm...

And my favorite:

Capex Dei - (St. Augustine via Maggie Ross):  The capacity for receiving God - a quality that is well worth increasing/enlarging in individuals and communities.

The news I heard at Seminary regarding mainline Protestant churches (and their seminaries) was not encouraging - it is indeed a time of significant challenge that calls for re-visioning what it means to be the church.  Some say that the church we knew in the 1950's (and today) will all but be extinct within a generation.  Add to that the horrific events in places like Orlando and Fallujah, and the slow-motion train wreck that describes much of what is happening on the political scene, and one wonders where we can look for hope.

That is where, for me, these three words/phrases have their power.  If we intentionally seek out that liminal space and live into the paradoxes, insights and unfolding truth that is found there...and if we lean into that which appears oppositional, and learn from it and embrace the challenges/shadow side that is present in life...and if we intentionally increase our capacity for receiving God (and God's wisdom, compassion, mercy, justice and Love), I believe we will have the hope-filled components to face the current/future challenges, and bring our very best to whatever life offers. Liminality - Tensegrity - Capex Dei.

Kathleen Norris, in her beautiful and challenging book "Cloister Walk," reminds us of the observation made by Gregory of Nyssa long ago:  "Moses entered the darkness, and then saw God in it."  Despite the sunlight of this longest day, there is much darkness in our world.  May we enter into it, looking to see the God who never turns away from the pain and trauma of life.  And may we know that what we bring - our true selves (both shadow and light) - is enough.  No one said this better than Martin Buber, in his story about Rabbi Zusya.  "Shortly before his death, the Rabbi said:  "In the world to come I shall not be asked: "Why were you not Moses?'  I shall be asked:  "Why were you not Zusya?"

Be - Enter - Open - Know - Embrace - Transform - Share - Be!

Solstice blessings,

Kim