Month: August 2018

Baby Wisdom

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

Our survival in this life is contingent on how we understand our basic needs. Living is the practice of meeting these needs. Our ability to meet those needs changes as we change. We complicate this extraordinarily well throughout our lives.

We have needs.
We come into this world, screaming and demanding .
Those cries from the newborn beckon us to help them survive.
Their cries beg for food, warmth and safety. And so it starts.

We seem to lose the understanding of our own needs as we grow older. We get conditioned in all sorts of ways as we live. The further we get away from the day we were born, the less we seem able to tolerate our own neediness. We judge it.

It hurts my heart when I witness someone embarrassed to admit that they have a need. We cast shame on people for needing and for expressing that need.  Some even taunt others about it. “You don’t have to be such a big baby about it.”

In an effort to be “less of a baby” about it, we begin to push away the awareness that our own needs exist and forget that it’s crucial to have these needs met. We deny our needs and that usually comes out sideways in our living.

We work against our own survival at times because we don’t want to be vulnerable and we don’t want to be rejected. We do not want to have needs that we cannot meet on our own. We want self sufficiency and for others to view us as strong.

So we…
…starve ourselves.
…gamble away our security and safety.
… make choices that leave us out in the cold.

And we sprinkle all of that with a nice dose of shame and loneliness.

In our living, we often focus on the weight of need and it can be burdensome. If that’s where we are focused, we miss the true life-affirming part of need.

When we were babies, completely reliant on others, we learned something each time we had a need met: It’s not our needs alone that make us human, it’s the never being alone in our need that truly helps us live.

In our most vulnerable moments, we may desperately want to deny our needs even exist. We may want to hide the evidence of our humanity. I hope we do that less and less as we grow.

And I sincerely hope we will be big babies about it.

Blessed are . . .

by Abigail Conley

Each year, we bless backpacks for kids headed back to school. We’ll pray over teachers’ bags and college students’ bags, and the bag of pretty much anyone who wants, but it starts with the kids. I make luggage tags for their backpacks, reminding them they are loved. Like the lectionary, I rotate on a three-year cycle, figuring it can work for more than one thing.

Overall, I think the Episcopalians and the Catholics do a better job of blessing than Congregationalists of most varieties. I could be wrong, but blessing just doesn’t hold the same prestige in our understanding of church. I am far more inclined to say that the ordinary is holy than to reserve a thing as purely holy; that inclination is a product of the churches that formed me.

Not surprisingly, the most ready notion of blessing for me is the Beatitudes. Along with the Lord’s Prayer, they were one of the texts memorized in fifth grade Sunday school if one wanted to graduate into youth group.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matthew 5:3-12)

I most appreciate interpreting the Beatitudes as pronouncement. By speaking it, Jesus makes it true that these things are blessed.

For we who join in God’s work, this is why we bless backpacks. By speaking a word of blessing upon them, we make the work they represent holy. One of the gifts of the church is that we can discern this together.

While education is transformative, it is not easy. For children, it is not always good. My grandfather bribed me to go to kindergarten and not cry. I was barely old enough for kindergarten and the teacher’s whistle scared me. It took months to coax out that truth of why kindergarten was so hard. In the meantime, my grandfather paid me fifty cents a day to go to school, not to cry, and trusted me to tell him the truth. He paid me in quarters every weekend. The price was set at fifty cents because it was the cost of a can of soda at recess.

Later grades would bring other challenges. I had the same terrible teacher for second and third grades. My elementary school closed. Middle school is terrible for pretty much everyone. Then I wonder if high school is any better and mostly, I think about how hard it all was. It was hard for me, who got straight As, who had plenty of friends, who never got picked on. I can only imagine what it was like for other kids. School itself, even with saintly teachers, is far from holy. It is blessed because we choose for it to be. It is blessed because the Church has decided to bless it.

I wonder what things we’re missing. What aren’t we calling holy? What things need our blessing? What is waiting for a word of transformation?

Faithful Decision Making – Rising to the Challenge of the Times

by Karen Richter

When Scott and I were first married, we had a friend named Glenn who worked with Scott at Barnett Bank in Florida. Glenn told us one evening about watching a teller at the bank flipping through a large stack of bills… She touched each bill for a fraction of a second and maybe once in the stack she would pull a bill out and put it to the side. These were the bills that she suspected were counterfeit. Actually more than suspecting, she just KNEW – knew from the slight variations of the texture of the paper and ink under the edge of her thumb.  

What does that story have to do with discernment? Discernment is not like that. We very seldom ‘just know.’  Over a person’s lifetime, they make millions of decisions of all shapes and sizes. Over a person’s lifetime, maybe for one of those decisions, they “just know.”

The traditional practice of discernment – faithful decision making – as spiritual discipline owes much to the Catholic Ignatian tradition and to Quaker practices. There’s a history there and much ancient wisdom… but that’s not today’s blog.

Discernment is a practice suited well to the times in which we live. So let’s take a minute to talk about how we might understand these times. So many of us have a gut feeling that there’s something special different unique going on in our churches and institutions. Is it just our imagination or are things truly changing more quickly and more profoundly than in times past? Church historian Phyllis Tickle writes about this idea: that every 500 years or so, the church has a “great rummage sale” in which ideas and notions of the role of the church get all shifty (The Great Emergence, Baker Books 2012). The Protestant Reformation was the most recent of these great transitions (Luther’s theses were posted on Halloween in 1517 – early Renaissance social media LOL). The Reformation was a time in which the authority of the church shifted in a profound way – from the Pope and the hierarchy of the church to the scriptures.

1517… hmmm. Well… TICK TOCK Y’ALL. We’re due for another great rummage sale, and it’s happening all around us. Tickle’s thesis is that the transition in which we’re living now is another change in our source of authority: from the Bible to the Spirit.

Assuming that she’s right*, it behooves us to learn the best ways to hear the voice of Spirit. And that’s what discernment is all about. Spiritual direction is a great setting in which to dive into personal and vocational discernment. I think of direction as a container in which discernment can unfold.

In that container (or in whatever setting we are discerning), there’s an atmosphere of trust.

  • We trust the deep desires of our heart. When we ask discernment questions, we trust that our hearts are already leaning the right way. We trust that God somehow has placed those desires in our hearts.
  • We trust the goodness of Life at a basic level. In this way, we are able to hold our decision lightly… to remain open and receptive to the Spirit’s movement, letting go of our own agenda even if just for a time.
  • We trust our imagination and intuition. We allow our emotions and physical sensations to inform our decision making. My spiritual direction mentor and supervisor Rev Teresa Blythe has this go-to question:  ‘where do you feel this decision in your body?’ It took me a while sitting with this question to grasp what it means.
  • Finally, we trust our community. We lean on one another’s wisdom.

Discernment is entwined with the Cs of our faith journey– commandment, commission, and commitment – and interacts with those concepts around the question of HOW. Discernment is all about the HOW.

  • How do we respond to the commandment of love? What does our call to love look like on the ground, in real life?
  • How do we live into the task before us – our commission to embrace this life and embody grace and peace? What part of this work is ours to do? What tasks have my name on them?
  • How do we sustain the commitment that’s required to build the house of Wisdom?

These are the questions of discernment continually lying before us: as a faithful community, as individuals, as a culture, as a species. May we make decisions that are life-giving. Amen.

*☺ I’m not at all qualified to argue with Phyllis Tickle! Her ideas are given the briefest summary/mangle here. The Great Emergence is a fab overview of church history for lay persons.

When We Go Away

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

I have long thought that the strength of family and friend relationships rely solely on exchanges we all have when we are in the same space, hanging out, talking, being together.

I have come to realize, though, this is only part of sustaining connection. The other large, essential part of relationship happens when we are away from each other.

Loving relationship starts in the most tender parts of our being. Our ability to be authentic and present in relationship is quite reliant on the vulnerability we are brave enough to hold inside of ourselves. Vulnerability often calls on fear as a bodyguard. Fear is such a powerful barrier that locks us in and does nothing to help our precious selves find one another.

What we choose to think about, the offenses we sometimes pick up, the conversations we overthink, the way we perceive our own value to those we love, all determines so much of whether a relationship thrives or suffers. The stories we tell ourselves in the in-between times is what determines if love is cultivated or ruptured.

We rely on connection. We long to be with one another. That homesick ache is that very longing and has been with us from day one. It is the motivating part of our living. The plot twist, though, is that deep connection is not fortified with an “I love you” face to face. The deep, sustaining connection happens later when we are apart. It happens when I replay that “I love you” and choose to believe you meant it.