Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Mary Oliver Workshop Details
Mary Oliver: Guide to the Life of the Spirit
Facilitator: Rev. Roger Butts
Location: Mt. St. Francis, Colorado Springs CO
9-Noon, 10-10-09
Outline for the morning:
Our weekend retreat will be broken into three sections (9-10 a.m., 10-11, 11-12). There will be ample time for journaling, walking around, and reflection and discussion. From 9-9:40, we'll do some introductions (and touchstones, see below) and we'll begin with questions of looking, awareness, openness, receptivity. We'll break for snacks, and some walking or meditation, etc. From 10-10:15, we'll talk about what came up in your reflection time.From 10:15-10:40, we'll move to our next section, which is related to expectancy and the idea of the miraculous (as you might expect, we'll hear from Ralph Waldo Emerson on this one).From 10:40 until 11:00, we'll break for snacks, and some walking or journaling or reflection time. From 11 until 11:15 we'll discuss what came up in your reflection time.From 11:15-11:40, we'll introduce and consider the idea of response--giving back--and transformation and going back in a non-linear way to the questions, to looking around, to expectancy, etc. 11:40 until Noon, debrief, evaluation, take homes, etc.
TOUCHSTONES:
*Extend and receive welcome
*Be present as fully as possible
*What is offered in the circle is by invitation, not demand
*Speak your truth in ways that respect other people's truth
*No fixing, no saving, no advising, and no setting each other straight
*Learn to respond to others (and one's self) with honest, open questions
*When the going gets rough, turn to wonder.
*Attend to yoru own inner teacher
*Trust and learn from the silence
*Observe deep confidentiality (talk only about what is said in the circle not beyond it; and tell your own story after the event, not someone else's)
*Know you can get what you need.
POEMS TO READ BEFORE THE EVENT
Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?
Mary Oliver (Why I Wake Early)
There are things you can’t reach. But
you can reach out to them, and all day long.
The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God.
And it can keep you as busy as anything else, and happier.
The snake slides away; the fish jumps, like a little lily,
out of the water and back in; the goldfinches sing
from the unreachable top of the tree.
I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms open. And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree – they are all in this too.
And now I will tell you the truth.
Everything in the world
comes. At least, closer. And, cordially.
Like the nibbling, tinsel-eyed fish; the unlooping snake.
Like goldfinches, little dolls of gold
fluttering around the corner of the sky
of God, the blue air.
Mindful
Mary Oliver (Why I wake early)
Every dayI see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystackof light.
It was what I was born for -to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world -to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
Going to Walden
Mary Oliver (The River Styx, Ohio and Other Poems, 1972)
This poem was inspired by a day on which friends of Mary Oliver invited her to join them on a trip to Walden Pond. Mary Oliver decided not to join them.
It isn’t very far as highways lie.
I might be back by night fall, having seen
The rough pines, and the stones, and the clear water.
Friends argue that I might be wiser for it.
They do not hear that far-off Yankee whisper:
How dull we grow from hurrying here and there!
Many have gone, and think me half a fool
To miss a day away in the cool country.
Maybe. But in a book I read and cherish,
Going to Walden is not so easy a thing
As a green visit. It is the slow and difficult
Trick of living, and finding it where you are.
Some Questions You Might Ask
Mary Oliver
Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?
Who has it, and who doesn't?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens her white wings slowly.
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question leads to another.
Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does it have one lung, like the snake and the scallop?
Why should I have it, and not the anteater
who loves her children?
Why should I have it, and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about maple trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?
(House of Light)
Blue Pastures (excerpt from the very end of the essay)
Mary Oliver
Once I was on a boat when a fisherman—a Provincetown man—hauled in an appalling-looking creature: an enormous spider crab, like an angel of desolation, with a domed body a foot across and nearly as high. The long limbs hung limp and were stuck with bits of seaweed and shells, water sluiced out of the vague centrality of its body, between its forelimbs the eyes gazed humbly. The body shell, too, was festooned with fragments of weed and flotsam. The spider crab dresses its body to make a camouflage, reaching back with a limb and daubing itself with whatever materials are lying about. The fisherman sighed and dropped the mess to the bottom of the boat. He knelt, and worked at the hook. “Never take from the sea what you don’t use,” he said, and stood up, and swung the crab over the gunnel.
And once, too, I gave something back. A friend left us a bluefish. I went down to the edge of the water to clean it. When I had scaled and slipped the sharp knife into the bellyfish, it broke open, not from any carelessness of mine but from a fine necessity—the bluefish had been feeding on small fish—sand eels—and its stomach, like a red and tensile purse, was stuffed full. Pieces of sand eels fell out, and among them maybe a half dozen were intact, squirming, unhurt in fact. So quickly, without a moment’s warning, does the miraculous swerve and point to us, demanding that we be its willing servant. Swifter than thought my hands scooped them, and plunged them into the cold water, and the film of their siblings’ death fell from them. For an instant they throbbed in place, too dazed to understand that they could swim back into life—and then they uncurled, like silver leaves, and flashed away.
(Blue Pastures, 1992)
Reflection:
A Note on Mary Oliver Poet, Who Serves as a Guide for the Life of the Spirit
I have been reading the poetry of Mary Oliver, the nature poet and winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. I have been struck by how much she points us toward a life of the spirit (and the flesh, and the mind, and the heart).
A few examples:
I look and I look. In her poem Where does the temple begin, where does it end? Oliver writes: I look; morning to night I am never done with looking. The life of the spirit involves curiosity and awareness. A desire to look, to toss things around and view them from lots of different angles. I am open and receptive. From Oliver: "Looking, I mean not just standing around, but standing around as though with arms open." A spirit, an attitude of receptivity is a prerequisite for a life of the spirit.
I am expectant. Oliver: And thinking, maybe something will come...And now I will tell you the truth. Everything in the world comes. At least, closer. And, cordially.
In the Christian tradition, the period of advent and lent serve as a reminder of the power of expectancy. But there are other times as well--the period before one gets married; the period before a special trip. Anticipation is a great teacher and a spirit of expectancy is a spiritual discipline.
I experience the miraculous, rarely perhaps, but sometimes. Oliver tells the story, in her book Blue Pastures, about receiving from a friend a gift of a freshly caught bluefish. She goes out to her deck to the clean the fish and upon a first attempt with the cleaning knife its belly breaks open. Inside are a slew of freshly eaten little eels, some of which, to Oliver's surprise, are intact and unhurt and squirming around.
I respond. I give back. I praise. Oliver scooped them up, the ones alive, and sent them to another chance at life, putting them in the water. And they swam off. As she begins the story, she writes: Once I gave back.
Once I gave back...our examples may not be so dramatic, but we all have experienced the goodness of giving back.
Almost all of Oliver's poems serve as praise. In Why I Wake Early she writes: Hello Sun in my face.best preacher in the world! In another poem she writes: Oh Lord how shining and festive is your gift to us, if we only look, and see.
In This World Oliver writes: So fancy is the world, who knows, maybe the stars sing too, and the ants.
The whole world is praise and praising. I am reminded of the Indigo Girls song City of Angels: I'll be the first to praise the sun. The first to praise the moon. The first to hold the lone coyote. The last to set it free.
I am changed. And I begin to ask questions that matter about myself and the world I help to co-create.
Like Walt Whitman before her, she is going to work and work and work on questions like; What is a soul? What is a prayer?
On this latter question she says: I don't know but I know how to sit still and look at a bit of the grass and the field and the bird.
With Whitman she'll say over and over: For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
In Some Questions You Might Ask Oliver writes; Is the soul solid, like iron?Or is it tender and breakable, like the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl? Who has it, and who doesn't? I keep looking around me.
Her questions and her looking have invited transformation all along the way-at one point in her poetry, she becomes an owl, a bear, she merges into the flesh of another. She grieves in the book Thirst upon the death of her longtime partner. The transformation leads, again and again, back to the poetry of looking, and responding, and praising and asking and soon it is all mixed up, a non-linear life of the spirit.
Facilitator: Rev. Roger Butts
Location: Mt. St. Francis, Colorado Springs CO
9-Noon, 10-10-09
Outline for the morning:
Our weekend retreat will be broken into three sections (9-10 a.m., 10-11, 11-12). There will be ample time for journaling, walking around, and reflection and discussion. From 9-9:40, we'll do some introductions (and touchstones, see below) and we'll begin with questions of looking, awareness, openness, receptivity. We'll break for snacks, and some walking or meditation, etc. From 10-10:15, we'll talk about what came up in your reflection time.From 10:15-10:40, we'll move to our next section, which is related to expectancy and the idea of the miraculous (as you might expect, we'll hear from Ralph Waldo Emerson on this one).From 10:40 until 11:00, we'll break for snacks, and some walking or journaling or reflection time. From 11 until 11:15 we'll discuss what came up in your reflection time.From 11:15-11:40, we'll introduce and consider the idea of response--giving back--and transformation and going back in a non-linear way to the questions, to looking around, to expectancy, etc. 11:40 until Noon, debrief, evaluation, take homes, etc.
TOUCHSTONES:
*Extend and receive welcome
*Be present as fully as possible
*What is offered in the circle is by invitation, not demand
*Speak your truth in ways that respect other people's truth
*No fixing, no saving, no advising, and no setting each other straight
*Learn to respond to others (and one's self) with honest, open questions
*When the going gets rough, turn to wonder.
*Attend to yoru own inner teacher
*Trust and learn from the silence
*Observe deep confidentiality (talk only about what is said in the circle not beyond it; and tell your own story after the event, not someone else's)
*Know you can get what you need.
POEMS TO READ BEFORE THE EVENT
Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?
Mary Oliver (Why I Wake Early)
There are things you can’t reach. But
you can reach out to them, and all day long.
The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God.
And it can keep you as busy as anything else, and happier.
The snake slides away; the fish jumps, like a little lily,
out of the water and back in; the goldfinches sing
from the unreachable top of the tree.
I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms open. And thinking: maybe something will come, some
shining coil of wind,
or a few leaves from any old tree – they are all in this too.
And now I will tell you the truth.
Everything in the world
comes. At least, closer. And, cordially.
Like the nibbling, tinsel-eyed fish; the unlooping snake.
Like goldfinches, little dolls of gold
fluttering around the corner of the sky
of God, the blue air.
Mindful
Mary Oliver (Why I wake early)
Every dayI see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystackof light.
It was what I was born for -to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world -to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
Going to Walden
Mary Oliver (The River Styx, Ohio and Other Poems, 1972)
This poem was inspired by a day on which friends of Mary Oliver invited her to join them on a trip to Walden Pond. Mary Oliver decided not to join them.
It isn’t very far as highways lie.
I might be back by night fall, having seen
The rough pines, and the stones, and the clear water.
Friends argue that I might be wiser for it.
They do not hear that far-off Yankee whisper:
How dull we grow from hurrying here and there!
Many have gone, and think me half a fool
To miss a day away in the cool country.
Maybe. But in a book I read and cherish,
Going to Walden is not so easy a thing
As a green visit. It is the slow and difficult
Trick of living, and finding it where you are.
Some Questions You Might Ask
Mary Oliver
Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?
Who has it, and who doesn't?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens her white wings slowly.
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question leads to another.
Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does it have one lung, like the snake and the scallop?
Why should I have it, and not the anteater
who loves her children?
Why should I have it, and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about maple trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?
(House of Light)
Blue Pastures (excerpt from the very end of the essay)
Mary Oliver
Once I was on a boat when a fisherman—a Provincetown man—hauled in an appalling-looking creature: an enormous spider crab, like an angel of desolation, with a domed body a foot across and nearly as high. The long limbs hung limp and were stuck with bits of seaweed and shells, water sluiced out of the vague centrality of its body, between its forelimbs the eyes gazed humbly. The body shell, too, was festooned with fragments of weed and flotsam. The spider crab dresses its body to make a camouflage, reaching back with a limb and daubing itself with whatever materials are lying about. The fisherman sighed and dropped the mess to the bottom of the boat. He knelt, and worked at the hook. “Never take from the sea what you don’t use,” he said, and stood up, and swung the crab over the gunnel.
And once, too, I gave something back. A friend left us a bluefish. I went down to the edge of the water to clean it. When I had scaled and slipped the sharp knife into the bellyfish, it broke open, not from any carelessness of mine but from a fine necessity—the bluefish had been feeding on small fish—sand eels—and its stomach, like a red and tensile purse, was stuffed full. Pieces of sand eels fell out, and among them maybe a half dozen were intact, squirming, unhurt in fact. So quickly, without a moment’s warning, does the miraculous swerve and point to us, demanding that we be its willing servant. Swifter than thought my hands scooped them, and plunged them into the cold water, and the film of their siblings’ death fell from them. For an instant they throbbed in place, too dazed to understand that they could swim back into life—and then they uncurled, like silver leaves, and flashed away.
(Blue Pastures, 1992)
Reflection:
A Note on Mary Oliver Poet, Who Serves as a Guide for the Life of the Spirit
I have been reading the poetry of Mary Oliver, the nature poet and winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. I have been struck by how much she points us toward a life of the spirit (and the flesh, and the mind, and the heart).
A few examples:
I look and I look. In her poem Where does the temple begin, where does it end? Oliver writes: I look; morning to night I am never done with looking. The life of the spirit involves curiosity and awareness. A desire to look, to toss things around and view them from lots of different angles. I am open and receptive. From Oliver: "Looking, I mean not just standing around, but standing around as though with arms open." A spirit, an attitude of receptivity is a prerequisite for a life of the spirit.
I am expectant. Oliver: And thinking, maybe something will come...And now I will tell you the truth. Everything in the world comes. At least, closer. And, cordially.
In the Christian tradition, the period of advent and lent serve as a reminder of the power of expectancy. But there are other times as well--the period before one gets married; the period before a special trip. Anticipation is a great teacher and a spirit of expectancy is a spiritual discipline.
I experience the miraculous, rarely perhaps, but sometimes. Oliver tells the story, in her book Blue Pastures, about receiving from a friend a gift of a freshly caught bluefish. She goes out to her deck to the clean the fish and upon a first attempt with the cleaning knife its belly breaks open. Inside are a slew of freshly eaten little eels, some of which, to Oliver's surprise, are intact and unhurt and squirming around.
I respond. I give back. I praise. Oliver scooped them up, the ones alive, and sent them to another chance at life, putting them in the water. And they swam off. As she begins the story, she writes: Once I gave back.
Once I gave back...our examples may not be so dramatic, but we all have experienced the goodness of giving back.
Almost all of Oliver's poems serve as praise. In Why I Wake Early she writes: Hello Sun in my face.best preacher in the world! In another poem she writes: Oh Lord how shining and festive is your gift to us, if we only look, and see.
In This World Oliver writes: So fancy is the world, who knows, maybe the stars sing too, and the ants.
The whole world is praise and praising. I am reminded of the Indigo Girls song City of Angels: I'll be the first to praise the sun. The first to praise the moon. The first to hold the lone coyote. The last to set it free.
I am changed. And I begin to ask questions that matter about myself and the world I help to co-create.
Like Walt Whitman before her, she is going to work and work and work on questions like; What is a soul? What is a prayer?
On this latter question she says: I don't know but I know how to sit still and look at a bit of the grass and the field and the bird.
With Whitman she'll say over and over: For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
In Some Questions You Might Ask Oliver writes; Is the soul solid, like iron?Or is it tender and breakable, like the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl? Who has it, and who doesn't? I keep looking around me.
Her questions and her looking have invited transformation all along the way-at one point in her poetry, she becomes an owl, a bear, she merges into the flesh of another. She grieves in the book Thirst upon the death of her longtime partner. The transformation leads, again and again, back to the poetry of looking, and responding, and praising and asking and soon it is all mixed up, a non-linear life of the spirit.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
A Quote on Grace
(Grace) means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. -- Frederick Buechner
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Special Musician Announced January 31st
Justin Roth will be our special musician on January 31st.
Check him our here.
Check him our here.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Why are you arguing?
September 20 2009 Lectionary
Mark 9:30-37 (excerpt)
Then they came to
They were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest.
He sat down and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."
Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them,
"Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."
Reflection
---
I could not believe what I was reading.
The most aggressive, hostile, dehumanizing rants imaginable. All over a speech. A speech by the President of the
Nicholas, my five year old son, attends a public Montessori school in
Some liberal parents responded with rage. A listserv serving the school’s PTA was buzzing with letters from liberal parents about Mr. Brilliant’s compromise. The language to protest the principal’s decision was cruel. It stripped the principal of his humanity.
For days, conservatives had lessened public discourse with scare tactics, had appealed to the very worst of our nature. And now, at my kids’ school, some liberal parents were doing the same—attacking, crossing lines of decency, calling names. I could not believe what I was reading. These were parents of children with whom my children were attending school and they were acting like schoolyard bullies. What in the world was going on?
Finally on speech day, my son sat with his classmates and watched the president speak. For fifteen minutes the president told the children to do as well as they could. Nicholas sat transfixed. His eyes barely left the screen. When the president was done, along with his classmates, he clapped wildly and giggled with joy. I don't think it would have mattered at that moment if the president was liberal or conservative, black or white, tall or short; his message--not his politics--had touched the children. Nicholas looked at his mother and said: How did he know that we would all be sitting here?
In that moment, all of the posturing, all of the bullying, all of the “arguing on the way” melted away in the simple, delighted, wonder-filled response of that five year old child, sitting in a downtown classroom in the shadow of Pike’s Peak.
Nicholas seemed to be saying, “That guy treated me like I mattered, like I was important, talked to me about hope—I know he is important and he spoke just to me and my class. He noticed me. Me.” I could not believe what I was hearing—all of the cynical posturing gave way to a moment of pure goodness--an adult reaching out to children with care and compassion in his voice and a child’s simple, awe-filled response.
Whoever wants to lead, needs to serve. Whoever wants to be great needs to be present with and hospitable to the most vulnerable among us—for example, the child.
In discussing this passage, Father John Dear says: What does Jesus say to us as we argue among ourselves. Let it all go. Let go of your ego, of your pride, your pursuit of honor and fame. Let go of your selfish demands upon others that they must serve you. Let go of control and domination of others. Let go of your problems, ambitions, career, greed, and need for achievement and accomplishment. Instead, serve one another. Serve the poor and the disenfranchised. Serve the hungry, the homeless, the sick, the imprisoned, the young, the elderly, the dying. Let go of your need to argue and follow me through humble, loving, unconditional service of suffering humanity. (The Questions of Jesus, John Dear, 2004).
I remember Rev. Meg Riley telling me about going to a meeting involving a group of gay Christians and a group of Christians who were working to heal gay people of the disease of homosexuality. They had asked Meg to come and observe their meeting. Finally, after arguing about who was right—that is to say who is greatest—they became exhausted. They turned to Meg, “Have you anything to say?” Meg, in the wisdom spoken of in all the great scriptures, said simply, “If you are gay, God loves you. If you are ex-gay, God loves you.” And she sat down.
“Why are you arguing?” Meg seemed to ask. God’s love embraces the whole human race—something worth celebrating, something that calls us into solidarity with our brothers and our sisters—into relationship, into awe and wonder and delight.
In many scenarios, when things get tough, we turn to arguments, control, domination. Jesus, in this passage, with the help of a little child, says: let it go. Turn to wonder, instead.
__________
Let us then turn our hearts to prayer:
God, whose love calls us to service, remind us of the goodness that overcomes our cynicism, our power plays, our arguments, our rationality, our book-smarts, our ego, our desire to be great. Remind us of the time we served and grew, when we moved beyond where we thought we were able to go. Remind us of the times we have felt that we mattered to someone, sometime we felt acknowledged and lifted up, because someone met us right where we were. Remind us of the solidarity that comes out of such experiences. And when we forget, o God, set before us a child, so that we might welcome what we can know of amazement and wonder and goodness.
The New Monasticism
12 Characteristics of the New Monasticism
- Relocation to the abandoned places of Empire.
- Sharing economic resources with fellow community members and the needy among us.
- Hospitality to the stranger.
- Lament for racial divisions within the church and our communities combined with the active pursuit of a just reconciliation.
- Humble submission to Christ’s body, the church.
- Intentional formation in the way of Christ and the rule of the community along the lines of the old novitiate.
- Nurturing common life among members of intentional community.
- Support for celibate singles alongside monogamous married couples and their children.
- Geographical proximity to community members who share a common rule of life.
- Care for the plot of God’s earth given to us along with support of our local economies.
- Peacemaking in the midst of violence and conflict resolution within communities along the lines of Matthew 18.
- Commitment to a disciplined contemplative life.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Marta Shared This With Me about Youth Ministry. Source unknown. Apologies for that. Important, however, esp for youth church workers.
A blog post finds it's way to us all the way from the future - 2059 AD:
Who would have thought with all the dire predictions making the rounds during the first decade of the 2000's that youth ministry would still be going strong in the year 2059. Yet here we are -- looking a little different, perhaps -- but still here. What a difference a few decades make. I doubt many of those youth ministers from the early part of this century (remember the short-lived iphone fad of the early 2000's?) would recognize the youth ministry of today. Just think of some of the changes that have taken place:
We stopped giving youth just what they wanted (pizza! crowds! video games! paintball!) and started giving them more of what they needed (and helped them to see why they needed it.)
We realized youth didn't need "bigger and better" (mission trips to more and more exotic locations, huge evangelism events in football stadiums, louder and louder rock concerts) -- they needed smaller, more meaningful experiences that allowed them to experience God's love in the midst of daily life.
We came to understand that our youth didn't need entertainment -- they needed engagement -- engagement in the Church's work of peace and justice.
It finally dawned on us that they didn't need more pop culture (no more helping the consumer culture in its seduction of our youth) -- they needed timeless truths that help them live the way of Jesus.
We figured out that they didn't need hype -- they needed sabbath rest.
We discovered that our teens didn't really just need charming, young, good-looking, sporty, charismatic leaders -- they need caring, mature, companions in faith. Today that still includes seminary-educated pastors (though not as many as 50 years ago and most of them are now bivocational and have a lot more training in educational theory and adolescent development), as well as lay leaders who bring a whole host of life and career experiences to the ministry.
Perhaps most surprisingly, our churches figured out that "giving youth their own space/place in the Church" didn't need to mean "separate spaces and places" but just room to grow and learn and minister alongside of everyone else in the Church. In fact, now we hardly spend anytime at all in the church building itself. Our youth ministry is happening out in the world, in the neighborhoods, at school, in the homeless shelters, the nursing homes, the community gardens, the protest rallies, and wherever there is need to hear the transforming message of the gospel.
Fall is a great time of the year to emphasize the connectedness of the faith community and to encourage your youth to see themselves as "one" even when they aren't together at church. Try this creative worship experience to help encourage the group to stay connected all week long.
Set out markers, crayons, and "leaves" for each participant that you have cut out of green construction paper (see template here). Each leaf should be about the size of one half piece of construction paper. Have one or more youth read aloud John 15: 1-11. This is the well-known text in which Jesus shares with his friends "I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit...." Invite the group to consider that one way we make this text real is in the way we stay connected to one another as the body of Christ.
Pass out the leaves and invite participants to choose a variety of crayons or markers. Begin by having each person place his or her name on one side of the leaf. Next, ask them to draw a symbol on the front of the leaf that reminds them of the group (it might be a heart or stick figure people or a cross, etc). When everyone is ready, have each person pass their leaf clockwise to the person next to them. This person should first add her or his name to same side of the leaf where the owner wrote his or her name. Now, invite everyone to write on the leaf something they are looking forward to about the new youth group year. Continue this process, passing the leaves, having each person add their name to each leaf and responding to prompts like these below:
- Write a "feeling" word to describe how you are feeling about your life right now.
- Draw a symbol or write a word/phrase describing how you feel about your relationship with God right now.
A friend from my seminary days recently contacted me to ask if I had any suggestions on ways to engage youth in discussion so that they don't get bored. A tall order, as the last thing most teens want out of youth group is to feel like they are at school. And nothing is worse for the discussion leader than to be met with a long unending silence each time you ask a question. Below I've listed the top ten ways I've used in the past to help teens get beyond the awkwardness of sharing their thoughts in front of a group of people and start talking.
1) The Continuum - A non-threatening way to get teens thinking without the fear of saying something "stupid" is to indicate an imaginary line down the middle of the room. One end represents "agree," the other "disagree" and every gradation of opinion in between. Start off by making a statement related to your discussion topic such as "It's okay to be dishonest to avoid hurting some one's feelings." Teens then place themselves anywhere along the line that indicates how they feel about the statement. You can even ask some people to explain why they placed themselves where they did on the line. This is a low-stress way to get kids thinking, for them and you to see where other group members stand on the topic, and gets them moving around.
2) Hypotheticals - Write up some very brief (paragraph long) hypothetical situations that relate to your discussion and invite small groups to discuss their reactions.
3) Graffiti wall - Put up blank sheets of paper around the room, perhaps with different questions on them. Invite the youth to stand in small groups at each sheet, write or draw their responses, and then when you say "Next!" they move to the next sheet and respond there, also taking time to see what other groups have written.
4) Fishbowl - Put kids in a circle and take turns pulling questions related to your topic out of a hat. Then you pass the question around the circle and each person either passes or responds. I usually don't allow any feedback on any one's responses until everyone has had a chance to share.
5) Vote - Have a mock election with a ballot covering the issues you want to discuss and have everyone fill out the ballot at the beginning. During the discussion, have someone tabulate the votes. You could divide groups up into those who are pro/con on the issues and have them develop their arguments and give stump speeches. At the end, either reveal the results of the vote, give them a chance to vote again and see if you get different results now that they are (hopefully) more informed, or simply ask for a show of hands of those who have altered their opinion since the beginning of the discussion.
6)Posters - Before discussing a particular issue, invite small groups to brainstorm how they might illustrate the topic graphically. Invite the small groups to create a poster that promotes their ideas and questions and then show the posters to the whole group.
7) Images - provide images that relate to the issues you want teens to discuss and ask them to select one or more that corresponds to their feelings or thoughts and explain why they connected with those images. (e.g. on a discussion about gay marriage you might get photos from magazines of different types of couples, a wedding cake, a single person, a church, etc).
8) Talk Partners - Many people, particularly introverts, are uncomfortable just sharing their thoughts to a question off the tops of their heads but given time to think through their answer, they are more likely to respond. When posing a question to the group, invite teens to turn to a person next to them and share their thoughts. This gives each person some time to "rehearse" their possible answer without the stress of sharing it in front of the whole group. After a minute of two, call the group back together and invite those who are willing to share their answer or share something thoughtful that their partner offered.
9) Role Play - If your youth are uncomfortable or shy about sharing their own thoughts, ask them to share the thoughts of someone else through role playing. Create a "persona" for each participant and provide them with a written description (e.g. "Cory is 18 years old and works for his dad. He has no plan to go to college when he graduates so he doesn't see anything wrong with cheating on tests in order to pass his senior year.") As you discuss the topic, invite youth to respond as their character might.
10) Talk Tokens - Sometimes the challenge to getting teens talking is that some talk too much and some talk too little. To try to break that pattern, provide everyone with the same number of tokens. I like to use poker chips but you could use anything: pennies, buttons, playing cards, etc. During your discussion, each time a person speaks he or she must toss a token in the middle of the circle. Once their tokens are gone, they become a "listener" while they wait for everyone else to use up their tokens. The tokens are only redistributed after everyone has used up their turns to speak.
Other suggestions?
UPDATE: Ian at Youthblog has added 9 more excellent ideas to the list. Check them out here.
--Brian
- List three things you are thankful for about this group.
- Write the name of at least one adult who has helped you experience the love of God.
- List at least one thing you hope we do in youth group this school year.
- List one class at school you are excited about.
- List one class at school you are dreading.
- Draw a symbol/write a word or phrase for something in your own life for which you'd like others to pray about
- Write the name of person/place in the world you hope others will pray for
- List one or more gifts you have to share with the group this year
You are finished when the leaves make their way back to their original owners (if your ministry is big, you will likely want to do this worship experience sitting in smaller groups). Encourage the youth to take a few moments of silence to meditate on all the responses on their leaf and to pray for the group. Then invite the teens to take their leaves home with them, post them in a visible place, and use them as a "touchstone" for keeping mindful about their connection to their fellow brothers and sisters in faith. When they see the leaf each day, perhaps they can stop for a moment to offer a prayer for those in the group.
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Labels: creative worship, ideas/resources
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 02, 2009
This summer, for the first time at my church, instead of taking a "youth mission trip," we are taking an "all-church mission trip." This means that adults other than those who regularly work with our youth will be along for the journey. It ocurred to me recently that if we are going to travel, live, and work together for a week, it might be helpful to give these other adults some pointers on hanging out with teens. What follows, in no particular order, is the top ten tips I will share with those adults Sunday night. If you'd add any others to the list, please share.
1) Teens are people, too. Resist calling them "kids" (unless you mean it as a term of endearment) or speaking about them as if they aren't in the room.
2) Teens need time. Particularly during discussions, teens need a little time to think about what they want to say. Resist the temptation to jump in with "the right answer" and don't feel you have to fill in every moment of silence with talking.
3) Teens like adults. Despite what you may remember from your younger days, teens do enjoy the companionship of adults. They just aren't always sure that we like them so the can seem stand-offish at times. In fact, many are at a point in their lives when they are trying to put a little independent distance between themselves and their parents, so they are seeking other caring adults to serve as mentors and role models.
4) Teens have a lot to teach us. In many ways, "The Breakfast Club" got it right. Young people are unique individuals with unique talents, gifts, attitudes, and perspectives. It would be a mistake to lump them all together as one homogenous group.
5) Teens' body clocks are different from ours. Most teens need 8-10 hours of sleep a night and get much less. Additionally, most teens are not at their peak until late morning and many are "night owls."
6)Teens are passionate. The first part of the teenage brain to fully develop is the emotions center. This means that teens can have high-highs and low-lows all in one day, they really connect with the hurt of others, and can be very passionate about the things they believe in.
7) Teens want to "own" their experiences. We have a temptation as adults, when teens talk about their struggles, to say things like "Oh, I went through the same thing at your age," or "I had the same problems and I survived it," or "Here's how I handled that problem." In many ways, the experiences of teens today are quite different from when we were young. Their struggles are real and they want them taken seriously, not dismissed with "I survived that and you will, too." The best approach often with young people isn't to offer advice, but just to listen.
8) Teens are fun to be around. You might think hanging with adolescents would make you feel old, but it's just the opposite. They often offer a perspective on life and the world that is refreshingly honest, hopeful, and new. And that sense of hope and possibility can be contagious.
9) Teens can be a great source of frustration. Ok, Ok. Teens are great, but let's be realistic about this, too. They can be incredibly frustrating to work with. . .unless you are willing to be flexible, can take a little good natured ribbing and criticism (Have I mentioned the girl at church who always tells me when my tie doesn't match my suit?), and remember that they still have a lot of growing up to do. Which leads to the final item on this list...
10) Teen are not adults. No matter how much they might look or act like adults, teens are still children, in the best sense of the word. For every moment of maturity, they have other moments where they grumble about taking out the trash, neglect their responsibilities, fight with their best friends and then make up an hour later, and choose goofing off over doing their work. Don't expect them to act like adults. Expect them to act like young people who are still growing, adjusting, stumbling, and trying to figure it all out.
--Brian
Labels: adolescence, mission, youth ministry
Having been in youth ministry for almost two decades, I sometimes assume that all the stuff in my "bag of tricks" is widely-known and S.O.P. for all youth ministers. But in the event that there might be some young/new/amnesiac youth pastors out there seeking ideas, I wanted to pass on these suggestions for engaging youth in prayer. I suppose most of us would love it if we had a group full of young people who loved to pray and were fully comfortable with sharing their deepest concerns out loud with a group. But since we are working with adolescents, this is never likely to be the case. Young people are often shy about sharing verbally with others for fear of being laughed at or not being able to really articulate what they feel. Additionally, not all youth (or adults, for that matter) are verbal learners. So here are a few prayer ideas that tap into other intelligences and learning styles:
Tinfoil prayers - Pass out a sheet of aluminum foil to each person. Invite them to take time in silence to craft the foil into the shape of something they want to offer up in prayer. They could create an object, an initial of a person's name, or even something abstract. When finished, students can choose whether or not to share about their prayer request represented by their foil creations and then all foil prayers are placed in the midst of the group for a closing prayer.
Play-Doh Prayers - Much like the one above, youth are given a lump of Play-Doh and asked to create a shape representing a prayer need. When everyone is ready, join in a circle and have persons, one at a time, place their creation in the center of the group and in some way attach it to the other Play-Doh creations to represent the way our shared prayers become one.
Pipe-Cleaner Prayers - Pass out several multi-colored pipe cleaners to each person and invite them to create a shape that represents a prayer need in their lives. When all are ready, present each prayer creation verbally or in silence and then have the group work as one to attach all the pipe cleaner shapes together.
Photo Prayers - Sometimes youth just can't think what to pray about so this idea uses photos to spur young people to consider the prayer needs in their lives or world. Cut out photos and images from magazines and place them in the center of the group. Invite youth to retrieve an image that connects with them and some need for prayer in their lives. Ask each person to share why the image grabbed their attention and how it speaks to them about a prayer concern.
Candle Prayers - Place a ton of votive candles in your worship space with a larger central candle in their midst. Light the central candle and invite youth in silence to come forward and light a votive from the central candle to represent a prayer for another person in need. Allow this to be an unstructured time so that youth come forward as they feel ready and allow individuals to light as many candles as they like.
Bulletin Board Prayers - Establish a bulletin board or other wall space in your youth room where youth can regularly post photos, news articles, and messages lifting up joys and concerns they want to share with the group.
Magnetic Poetry Prayers - This one is a little more ambitious. Create wall space in your room painted with magnetic paint (yes it exists) and provide an ample supply of magnetic poetrywords for youth to create a wall of creative prayers to share with others. Similarly, paint a section of wall with chalk paint and allow students to graffitti their joys and concerns right on the wall.
Sand Prayers - Set our a plastic container filled with sand. One at a time, invite each person to go to the container and trace in the sand a world or symbol of something for which they seek forgiveness. When they are finished, invite them to pass their hand over what they have drawn, obliterating it as a way of accepting God's forgiveness.
Labels: creative worship, prayer stations
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Adult Education Opportunity, Mary Oliver
I am pleased to present the first fall ADULT EDUCATION/FAITH DEVELOPMENT Opportunity for the congregation.
As some of you may know, I am absolutely in love with the poetry of Mary Oliver. So, after some conversation with some "informal advisors around adult education," I am presenting the following class:
MARY OLIVER AS GUIDE TO THE LIFE OF THE SPIRIT
OCTOBER 10, 2009 (Saturday)
9 a.m. - Noon
Mount Saint Francis Retreat Center, Pine Room
There will be ample opportunity to walk the grounds, journal, share your insights and to reflect on what matters to you. We'll some large group work together, some small group work together, and some individual reflection. Oh, and there will be snacks (Five dollar contribution to cover room and snack expenses is voluntary but appreciated).
Want to be introduced (or reminded) of the poetry of Mary Oliver...here are two poems.
When Death Comes by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
____
Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver
Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories, and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety – best preacher that ever was, dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-
darkness, to ease us with warm touching, to hold us in the great hands of light-
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.
Want to become an informal advisor around adult education? Just write me!
Roger
As some of you may know, I am absolutely in love with the poetry of Mary Oliver. So, after some conversation with some "informal advisors around adult education," I am presenting the following class:
MARY OLIVER AS GUIDE TO THE LIFE OF THE SPIRIT
OCTOBER 10, 2009 (Saturday)
9 a.m. - Noon
Mount Saint Francis Retreat Center, Pine Room
There will be ample opportunity to walk the grounds, journal, share your insights and to reflect on what matters to you. We'll some large group work together, some small group work together, and some individual reflection. Oh, and there will be snacks (Five dollar contribution to cover room and snack expenses is voluntary but appreciated).
Want to be introduced (or reminded) of the poetry of Mary Oliver...here are two poems.
When Death Comes by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
____
Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver
Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories, and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety – best preacher that ever was, dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-
darkness, to ease us with warm touching, to hold us in the great hands of light-
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.
Want to become an informal advisor around adult education? Just write me!
Roger
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
What Are You Invested In? Sermon August 29, 2009
Albert Schweitzer said it well:
Therefore search and see if there is not someplace where you can invest your humanity.
Where have you invested your humanity? In what? And what has been the return on that investment? As individuals, as a congregation?
This week I was in a small group setting up at Mt. St. Francis. I know many of you enjoy the U and I groups here at church, our small group ministries. Well, I was in something similar. And a woman from another state was telling a story about her week. It started off with a bang. In a calm voice, a reasonable voice, she started speaking : I was involved in a five car crash on a major interstate in my hometown. Though we were not supposed to respond, many of us drew in our breath. She went on: My daughter is going off to college. We have had many good times this summer, our family has been together surrounded by laughter and memories. And my daughter andi were driving on the interstate, talking about her imminent departure for school and next thing I knew someone hit us. We scrambled to the side of the interstate, to wait for an officer, to wait for a tow truck. And my 18 year old daughter, this mother told us, said to me: the upside of this is that now I am truly present. The distractions that I felt so overwhelming are now pushed aside. I am aware that I am alive and well, and I can truly focus on this moment of being with you, before I head to college.
This woman told us this story with tears in her eyes. Her investment paid off. Her life’s work of raising this child so that she might have wings to fly made her so proud. She was so grateful for the simple reminder, the simple wisdom, that her little girl gave to her, in a turnabout that comes to parent child relationships, eventually. The student is the teacher. The investment provides a return, beyond any measuring.
Where have you invested your whole life?
This morning I want to focus on that term investment. It is a cringe-worthy word in some ways.
Some among us have felt a sharp decline in our investments in this recession. Some of us are invested in real estate that has lost significant value over the last few years. Some have taken on the stock market and won, others have lost. Some retirements are tied up in yoyo markets that cause consternation. Our investments sometime pay dividends, sometimes crash, sometimes are slow to rebound. There are many kinds of investments. Let us focus on the kinds that involve our whole lives.
***
The other day I was walking along and I saw a bank advertisement that said: it is not what you have, it is what you save. There is some obvious wisdom there. I don’t know about you, but I often buy things with an eye towards self-gratification, towards making myself happy, well beyond the object of the desire’s capacity to give happiness. And so moderating our consumption—if we are consuming for the wrong reasons—is always a good idea.
I think perhaps the bank advertisement doesn’t quite go far enough. Let me try this out on you: It is not what you have, it is not what you save, it is what you build. It is what you are invested in, that will add up to something greater than you.
No matter your station in life you can help build something. No matter what you have or don’t have, if you are rich or poor, you can still contribute to something that might just out last you.
Many of us when considering this question: what are you invested in, would immediately turn our attention to our children or our grandchildren, or if we are childless by choice or circumstance perhaps we would turn our focus to nephews, nieces or the children of friends or a community we love. Those generations that are younger than us.
Many, like the mother I met this week, have invested their humanity in the lives of children.
As a church this morning we made promises to those children going from preschool to kindergarten that we would help to build a place in which they will be raised and come into their own power over time and that we will celebrate their coming into themselves. I can tell you as the parent of one of those children that I come to church in part so that my children will know what it is like to be a part of a multi-generational community. I need you to help raise my children—to offer up your great big hearts as teachers, as wise elders, as ‘walking sticks’ for them when they get stuck or when they have an adventurous spirit. Church is important to children so that they can learn to do community. They need us but we need them too.
At the funeral of Ted Kennedy yesterday, in a poignant moment, the son of Teddy Kennedy, who has struggled with depression, with addiction, but who has perservered in the face of all of that sadness, recalled his father taking him to a hill and the boy, who was very young became scared and unsure. He said: I cannot climb that hill. I cannot do it. And at the funeral as that middle aged man thought about his young self amidst tears he said I will never ever forget my father saying to me: I just know that you can climb that hill. I know you can do it. And I will be with you. And if it takes all day, we’ll get up that hill. And sure enough, he said, they made their way. The impact of example on a four year old boy lived with him forever. Church is a bit like thiat for our children: you can do it. We’ll be here with you. No matter what. This busy man invested his time, and his humanity, and his heart—and it saved that little boy.
For those of us who would invest our humanity in our children it is a fascinating thing to consider evolution and childhood.
You’ve seen baby ducks taggling along behind their mothers, yes? It turns out that baby ducks, goslings in the wild, will follow anything, no matter how implausible a mother. Evolution has provided for these little vulnerable things a rule hardwired in their brains (follow that!) and the rule applies to any object falling within a sketchy guideline for motherhood: and that guideline is something like (seen early in life and moving.) Now normally the first thing a gosling will see is its mother so it is normally fine, but sometimes the bird’s neural system can be fooled. Scientists call this imprinting, this tendency to lock onto an early object and fall for it, or follow it. This ability to be fooled is not just for goslings. In fact, lambs have been tricked into forming a bond to television sets, guinea pigs to wooden blocks, and monkeys to cylinders of wire bent into a rough form of a mother. What we imprint on the life of our child is crucial—a sense of our humanity.
Frederick II, a thirteenth century holy roman emperor, unwittingly conducted the first study of human bonding. So Frederick loved language, and he wanted to learn what inborn language children might speak if they were to develop without any clues from their caregivers. Would they speak Greek, Latin, Hebrew, the language of their parents? So the emperor told the fostermothers and the wet nurses to bathe the children, to suckle them, but in no way to engage them with play or to speak with them. The priest who documented the experiment notes that no linguistic knowledge was gained because all of the children died. The emperor discovered something remarkable: that children could not live without clappings of the hands, and gestures and gladnes of countenance, and blandishments.
But, it turns out, that if a caregiver, a mother, a father, makes funny faces at a child—its brain grows and grows and grows.
Walker Percy wrote that modern man is estranged from being, from his own being, from the being of other creatures in the world, from transcendent being. He has lost something—what he does not know; he only knows that he is sick unto death with the loss of it.
The mysterious, absent element is a deep and abiding immersion in communal ties.
Someone asked me, when I first considered becoming a minister, as I was doing my internship in Annapolis, “why become a uu minister—there is no fear of a mean god, there is no promise of a great salvation, there are no insiders who are special and outsiders who are deprived.” Why go through all the heartache and the headache and the trouble, if everyone wins in the end?
Why make the investment, they seemed to be saying. And all I could do to respond is say that this liberal way in religion saved me. When I was floundering, cut off and alone, isolated and awry, I found a Unitarian Universalist church in Greensboro NC, in Washington, DC in Bethesda MD that gave me something like hope when I needed it most.
Perhaps you have heard the story of the two sisters who were leaving River Road Unitarian a few years ago, and a car crashed into one of the siblings causing her great injury. And the minister, Scott Alexander, came over and found the safe sibling softly singing to her sister: Spirit of Life, a song they sang as children all the time. It is all I could think to do, said the little girl. It was something I knew and it means so much to both of us, and I thought it might provide some comfort.
That is what it means to be church to give our children this kind of grounding in the life of the free and liberating spirit of life, the free and liberating spirit of humanity. So that when they encounter the rough patches of life, which they will, we can say: we gave them a song to sing, we gave them a loving sense of the divine, whose love embraces the whole human race and all the plants and animals too. We gave them a neural wiring in the brain that said: here I am safe to be me, to be loved and to love in return.
I venture to say that our children will be a bit like those goslings—they will go off with anyone anywhere antime regardless of the theology, if they ask for bread and we give them stones, if they ask for depth and we give them shallow, pat answers or no answer at all.
*****
So this leads to our second point: most of us are invested in becoming ourselves. A few weeks ago, I chuckled as Martha stood in joys and concerns after her trip to Boston. She had her Boston University sweat shirt on: BU. It said. What a wonderfully Unitarian Universalist message: Be you.
Most of us are on a journey towards integrating all of the paradoxes, all of the ups and the downs, the triumphs and the missteps into a life of wholeness. Most of us have invested at least somewhat in that kind of self-discovery.
Do you know this poem: Now I become myself by May Sarton?
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places,
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces.
Run madly, as if Time where there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before—“
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gahtered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted so by love.
Now there is time and Time is yhoung.
O, in this single hour I love
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still and stop the sun.
Once you stand still, someone told me the other day, a wise old man, once you stand still you cast your own shadow. You say: here I am. Here I stand. Your shadow is one of your unique features, and you do best to cast your own, instead of standing in someone’s elses or trying to create one that isn’t really yours.
I become myself.
Some of you may be clinging to something that is not life-giving: revenge, regrets.
Two monks, Tanzan and Ekido, were walking down a muddy street in the city. They came on a lovely young girl dressed in fine silks, who was afraid to cross because of all the mud.
“Come on, girl,” said Tanzan. And he picked her up in his arms, and carried her across.
The two monks did not speak again till nightfall. Then, when they had returned to the monastery, Ekido couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“Monks shouldn’t go near girls,’ he said “certainly not beautiful ones like that one! Why did you do it?”
“My dear fellow,” said Tanzan. “I put that girl down, way back in the city. It’s you who are still carrying her!”
Sometimes our investments are wrapped up in the should haves, the could haves, the might haves, that would haves. All of those things we are invested in, committed to, clinging to that might easily be put away, if we just knew how. If we could just begin.
Are you clinging to a resentment? Are you clinging to a grudge? Are you invested in some kind of dis-abling sense of self? Some kind of rule like that monk had for his brohter monk? Today, I want to challenge you to put it aside. To take on some practice that will help you shed that resentment. It may be yoga, meditation. It may be centering prayer. It may be just listening for the small still voice inside. Why do you think we sit in silence after the pastoral prayer, after the joys and concerns?
Sometimes we all have to make the tough decision to move our investments around, to transfer from one account to another. It may be time for you to find something new to invest your humanity.
Therefore search and see if there is not someplace where you can invest your humanity.
Therefore search and see if there is not someplace where you can invest your humanity.
Where have you invested your humanity? In what? And what has been the return on that investment? As individuals, as a congregation?
This week I was in a small group setting up at Mt. St. Francis. I know many of you enjoy the U and I groups here at church, our small group ministries. Well, I was in something similar. And a woman from another state was telling a story about her week. It started off with a bang. In a calm voice, a reasonable voice, she started speaking : I was involved in a five car crash on a major interstate in my hometown. Though we were not supposed to respond, many of us drew in our breath. She went on: My daughter is going off to college. We have had many good times this summer, our family has been together surrounded by laughter and memories. And my daughter andi were driving on the interstate, talking about her imminent departure for school and next thing I knew someone hit us. We scrambled to the side of the interstate, to wait for an officer, to wait for a tow truck. And my 18 year old daughter, this mother told us, said to me: the upside of this is that now I am truly present. The distractions that I felt so overwhelming are now pushed aside. I am aware that I am alive and well, and I can truly focus on this moment of being with you, before I head to college.
This woman told us this story with tears in her eyes. Her investment paid off. Her life’s work of raising this child so that she might have wings to fly made her so proud. She was so grateful for the simple reminder, the simple wisdom, that her little girl gave to her, in a turnabout that comes to parent child relationships, eventually. The student is the teacher. The investment provides a return, beyond any measuring.
Where have you invested your whole life?
This morning I want to focus on that term investment. It is a cringe-worthy word in some ways.
Some among us have felt a sharp decline in our investments in this recession. Some of us are invested in real estate that has lost significant value over the last few years. Some have taken on the stock market and won, others have lost. Some retirements are tied up in yoyo markets that cause consternation. Our investments sometime pay dividends, sometimes crash, sometimes are slow to rebound. There are many kinds of investments. Let us focus on the kinds that involve our whole lives.
***
The other day I was walking along and I saw a bank advertisement that said: it is not what you have, it is what you save. There is some obvious wisdom there. I don’t know about you, but I often buy things with an eye towards self-gratification, towards making myself happy, well beyond the object of the desire’s capacity to give happiness. And so moderating our consumption—if we are consuming for the wrong reasons—is always a good idea.
I think perhaps the bank advertisement doesn’t quite go far enough. Let me try this out on you: It is not what you have, it is not what you save, it is what you build. It is what you are invested in, that will add up to something greater than you.
No matter your station in life you can help build something. No matter what you have or don’t have, if you are rich or poor, you can still contribute to something that might just out last you.
Many of us when considering this question: what are you invested in, would immediately turn our attention to our children or our grandchildren, or if we are childless by choice or circumstance perhaps we would turn our focus to nephews, nieces or the children of friends or a community we love. Those generations that are younger than us.
Many, like the mother I met this week, have invested their humanity in the lives of children.
As a church this morning we made promises to those children going from preschool to kindergarten that we would help to build a place in which they will be raised and come into their own power over time and that we will celebrate their coming into themselves. I can tell you as the parent of one of those children that I come to church in part so that my children will know what it is like to be a part of a multi-generational community. I need you to help raise my children—to offer up your great big hearts as teachers, as wise elders, as ‘walking sticks’ for them when they get stuck or when they have an adventurous spirit. Church is important to children so that they can learn to do community. They need us but we need them too.
At the funeral of Ted Kennedy yesterday, in a poignant moment, the son of Teddy Kennedy, who has struggled with depression, with addiction, but who has perservered in the face of all of that sadness, recalled his father taking him to a hill and the boy, who was very young became scared and unsure. He said: I cannot climb that hill. I cannot do it. And at the funeral as that middle aged man thought about his young self amidst tears he said I will never ever forget my father saying to me: I just know that you can climb that hill. I know you can do it. And I will be with you. And if it takes all day, we’ll get up that hill. And sure enough, he said, they made their way. The impact of example on a four year old boy lived with him forever. Church is a bit like thiat for our children: you can do it. We’ll be here with you. No matter what. This busy man invested his time, and his humanity, and his heart—and it saved that little boy.
For those of us who would invest our humanity in our children it is a fascinating thing to consider evolution and childhood.
You’ve seen baby ducks taggling along behind their mothers, yes? It turns out that baby ducks, goslings in the wild, will follow anything, no matter how implausible a mother. Evolution has provided for these little vulnerable things a rule hardwired in their brains (follow that!) and the rule applies to any object falling within a sketchy guideline for motherhood: and that guideline is something like (seen early in life and moving.) Now normally the first thing a gosling will see is its mother so it is normally fine, but sometimes the bird’s neural system can be fooled. Scientists call this imprinting, this tendency to lock onto an early object and fall for it, or follow it. This ability to be fooled is not just for goslings. In fact, lambs have been tricked into forming a bond to television sets, guinea pigs to wooden blocks, and monkeys to cylinders of wire bent into a rough form of a mother. What we imprint on the life of our child is crucial—a sense of our humanity.
Frederick II, a thirteenth century holy roman emperor, unwittingly conducted the first study of human bonding. So Frederick loved language, and he wanted to learn what inborn language children might speak if they were to develop without any clues from their caregivers. Would they speak Greek, Latin, Hebrew, the language of their parents? So the emperor told the fostermothers and the wet nurses to bathe the children, to suckle them, but in no way to engage them with play or to speak with them. The priest who documented the experiment notes that no linguistic knowledge was gained because all of the children died. The emperor discovered something remarkable: that children could not live without clappings of the hands, and gestures and gladnes of countenance, and blandishments.
But, it turns out, that if a caregiver, a mother, a father, makes funny faces at a child—its brain grows and grows and grows.
Walker Percy wrote that modern man is estranged from being, from his own being, from the being of other creatures in the world, from transcendent being. He has lost something—what he does not know; he only knows that he is sick unto death with the loss of it.
The mysterious, absent element is a deep and abiding immersion in communal ties.
Someone asked me, when I first considered becoming a minister, as I was doing my internship in Annapolis, “why become a uu minister—there is no fear of a mean god, there is no promise of a great salvation, there are no insiders who are special and outsiders who are deprived.” Why go through all the heartache and the headache and the trouble, if everyone wins in the end?
Why make the investment, they seemed to be saying. And all I could do to respond is say that this liberal way in religion saved me. When I was floundering, cut off and alone, isolated and awry, I found a Unitarian Universalist church in Greensboro NC, in Washington, DC in Bethesda MD that gave me something like hope when I needed it most.
Perhaps you have heard the story of the two sisters who were leaving River Road Unitarian a few years ago, and a car crashed into one of the siblings causing her great injury. And the minister, Scott Alexander, came over and found the safe sibling softly singing to her sister: Spirit of Life, a song they sang as children all the time. It is all I could think to do, said the little girl. It was something I knew and it means so much to both of us, and I thought it might provide some comfort.
That is what it means to be church to give our children this kind of grounding in the life of the free and liberating spirit of life, the free and liberating spirit of humanity. So that when they encounter the rough patches of life, which they will, we can say: we gave them a song to sing, we gave them a loving sense of the divine, whose love embraces the whole human race and all the plants and animals too. We gave them a neural wiring in the brain that said: here I am safe to be me, to be loved and to love in return.
I venture to say that our children will be a bit like those goslings—they will go off with anyone anywhere antime regardless of the theology, if they ask for bread and we give them stones, if they ask for depth and we give them shallow, pat answers or no answer at all.
*****
So this leads to our second point: most of us are invested in becoming ourselves. A few weeks ago, I chuckled as Martha stood in joys and concerns after her trip to Boston. She had her Boston University sweat shirt on: BU. It said. What a wonderfully Unitarian Universalist message: Be you.
Most of us are on a journey towards integrating all of the paradoxes, all of the ups and the downs, the triumphs and the missteps into a life of wholeness. Most of us have invested at least somewhat in that kind of self-discovery.
Do you know this poem: Now I become myself by May Sarton?
Now I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places,
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces.
Run madly, as if Time where there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
“Hurry, you will be dead before—“
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gahtered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted so by love.
Now there is time and Time is yhoung.
O, in this single hour I love
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still and stop the sun.
Once you stand still, someone told me the other day, a wise old man, once you stand still you cast your own shadow. You say: here I am. Here I stand. Your shadow is one of your unique features, and you do best to cast your own, instead of standing in someone’s elses or trying to create one that isn’t really yours.
I become myself.
Some of you may be clinging to something that is not life-giving: revenge, regrets.
Two monks, Tanzan and Ekido, were walking down a muddy street in the city. They came on a lovely young girl dressed in fine silks, who was afraid to cross because of all the mud.
“Come on, girl,” said Tanzan. And he picked her up in his arms, and carried her across.
The two monks did not speak again till nightfall. Then, when they had returned to the monastery, Ekido couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“Monks shouldn’t go near girls,’ he said “certainly not beautiful ones like that one! Why did you do it?”
“My dear fellow,” said Tanzan. “I put that girl down, way back in the city. It’s you who are still carrying her!”
Sometimes our investments are wrapped up in the should haves, the could haves, the might haves, that would haves. All of those things we are invested in, committed to, clinging to that might easily be put away, if we just knew how. If we could just begin.
Are you clinging to a resentment? Are you clinging to a grudge? Are you invested in some kind of dis-abling sense of self? Some kind of rule like that monk had for his brohter monk? Today, I want to challenge you to put it aside. To take on some practice that will help you shed that resentment. It may be yoga, meditation. It may be centering prayer. It may be just listening for the small still voice inside. Why do you think we sit in silence after the pastoral prayer, after the joys and concerns?
Sometimes we all have to make the tough decision to move our investments around, to transfer from one account to another. It may be time for you to find something new to invest your humanity.
Therefore search and see if there is not someplace where you can invest your humanity.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Christians and Muslims Fasting Together
Interfaith Solidarity During Ramadan
Brian McLaren, the great Christian writer and activist, called me up a few weeks ago with a remarkable request: Would I be his fasting partner during Ramadan? He explained to me that there was a long-held Christian tradition of fasting, although it is not practiced much in contemporary Christian communities. Brian's goal was to live more fully into that Christian tradition during Ramadan, while also feeling solidarity with Muslim communities.
There are a number of Christians Brian knows who are doing this. As he writes in his blog: "We, as Christians, humbly seek to join Muslims in this observance of Ramadan as a God-honoring expression of peace, fellowship, and neighborliness. Each of us will have at least one Muslim friend who will serve as our partner in the fast. These friends welcome us in the same spirit of peace, fellowship, and neighborliness."
I shared the story with Shaykh Hamza Yusuf at the beginning of Ramadan, and he told me that he was reading a book about the Judeo-Christian tradition of fasting, and learning a great deal from it.
Then I heard that many of the non-Muslim FaithsAct Fellows (a joint program of the Interfaith Youth Core and the Tony Blair Faith Foundation), are fasting together. That is truly remarkable. These young people are currently on an interfaith fellowship in Africa, working with Christians and Muslims in health clinics that prevent and treat malaria.
In his beautiful video message on Ramadan, President Obama spoke of the particular Muslim practice of Ramadan (the additional nightly prayers, the belief that this is the month when the Qur'an was revealed), but also of the common tradition of fasting across religions - how it is meant to bring us closer to God, and to remind us of those who cannot take their next meal for granted.
Shaykh Hamza told me during our conversation, "Eboo, the walls are falling, the barriers are breaking." I hope so. I hope this interfaith solidarity during Ramadan is a sign of the times. I pray that we are moving towards a world in which people are rooted in their own traditions but find dimensions to admire and learn from in others, that Ramadan is a time during which people from a variety of backgrounds come together in the common purpose of growing closer to God and one another. That is the heart of Islam, of all of our faiths and traditions.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Beginning of Love--Merton
The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them." - Thomas Merton
How Ted Kennedy Made an Impact
from the Globe article: "He was the youngest child of a famous family, but his legacy derived from quiet subcommittee meetings, conference reports, and markup sessions. The result of his efforts meant hospital care for a grandmother, a federal loan for a working college student, or a better wage for a dishwasher."
46 minutes ago
Monday, August 24, 2009
On Faith
When you come to the end of all the light you know, and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: Either you will be given something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly. -- Edward Teller
Friday, August 21, 2009
Freedom!
Freedom is the ground of all vital activity. Faith without freedom is dogma. Love without freedom is an illusion. Justice without freedom is oppression. In every instance, freedom is the factor that sustains and completes the other goal. It is the oxygen of the human spirit, the indispensable element for growth and wholeness.
From Dancing in the Empty Spaces, 2001
From Dancing in the Empty Spaces, 2001
Monday, August 17, 2009
Vitality and Joy Quote
What [then] is the wellspring of decency? What is the wellspring of courage, transformation, and persistence? Acts of respect, of courage, of resistance and transformation spring from a deep reservoir of vitality and joy: joy in living fully and well, joy in breathing, walking, running, dancing, making love. — Sharon Welch
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Community Post
"Community cannot for long feed on itself; it can only flourish with the coming of others from beyond, their unknown and undiscovered brothers." — Howard Thurman
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Justice Quote
"The heart of justice is truth telling, seeing ourselves and our world the way it is rather than the way we want it to be." bell hooks
Work quote
You are not here merely to make a living. You are here to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, and with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world. You impoverish yourself if you forget this errand. -- Woodrow Wilson
Monday, August 10, 2009
Art Quote
"My inspiration is ART. . . Because without ART we would just be stuck with reality." - Daniel Robert Lynch
Peace Quote
Peace is not something you wish for; It's something you make, something you do,something you are,and something you give away. Robert Fulghum
Show Respect Quote
Show respect to all people, but grovel to none. When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength." Tecumseh (Shawnee)
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
A Narrative is what is needed!
Marilyn Sewell writes this Mini-Reflection: Instead of more information, we need a narrative, a story, that pulls us forward through tough times and gives us meaning.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
My First Column
My first column for the newsletter at High Plains Church.
Thank you! Thank you for calling me to be your minister. Thank you for your hospitality during my candidating week. Thank you for all of the good work you've done with Rev. Wanda Daniels during your interim period.
The future awaits us. It has worked out that during this chapter of your life as a congregation and during this chapter of my life (and my family's life), we've come together to see what kind of ministry we can create in partnership, in joy, and in hope and faith and love. I am thrilled to get on with the work of this ministry.
I am especially thrilled to work with Lori, Gia and Joy, a staff that you are rightly very proud of. I am thrilled that sometime this year, you as an organization will ordain Nathan into the Unitarian Universalist ministry.
If you want to check in on how things are coming along with my transition, you can read my blog at http://hpcuu.blogspot.com/. My schedule of services for the next few months can be found there. And possibilities for adult education offerings. And this quote about hope:
"Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good." -- Vaclav Havel
In gratitude,
Rev. Roger
Possible Services--Fall 2009
This is a draft. Note that December is open and that many of the months have dates that may be switched around, depending on what the worship team wants to do and when... But this is a start. December is open for two reasons: i want to hear from you the Religious Education staff about Christmas pagaent and i will know more about themes that will be especially relevant.
The dates can easily be switched around.
August 2: Blessed are the peacemakers
A sermon about three favorite peacemakers…Dorothy Day; Theodore Parker; and Thomas Merton. After a five minute introduction to each, we sing a song.
August 9: The Emperor of the
Scott introduced me to some character who just sort of decided that he’d be the emperor of the
August 16:
SERMON TITLE: Marginalia
Based on a poem by Billy Collins, those little moments that come out of nowhere and lead to epiphanies, new awareness, new ways of being in the world.
August 23: Ramadan.
August 30: What are you investing in? Music with Linda Densmore.
September 6:Rev. Roger Butts What is an economy for, anyway?
September 13: Water Service with Nancy Prince and the RE children: Celebrating Rainsforests.
September 20: The Tangled Bank. The tangled bank is an image that
September 27: What Baby Suggs Taught
Here is the origin for me of the image of the walking stick. I use the story from Beloved by Toni Morrison of Baby Suggs preaching out in the clearing.
October 4: A service on Raising Children without punishments or rewards.
October 11: A Happy Atheist Walks Into a Church...
October 18: The Power of Forgiveness (Yom Kippur)
Using clips from award-winning PBS documentary, The Power of Forgiveness, we’ll talk about reconciliation—personal, political, and communal. And draw on a wide range of interfaith voices—Thich Nhat Hanh, Elie Wiesel, Marianne Williamson, etc, etc—to bring up this crucially important idea.
October 25:What is Prayer
November 1: The
Power
of Generosity
Why is generosity and stewardship so important in every religious tradition? At a bank the other day, I saw a sign that said: It’s not what you make, it is what you save. I wondered if we could say: it’s not what you make, it’s not what you save, it’s what you value and build and support.
November 8: To Humanism
November 15?
November 22: The Power of Gratitude
Why is gratitude such an important part of the journey towards wholeness? What is it about gratitude that is so compelling? What does gratitude stand for?
November 29: Bread Communion
I’m leaving all of December open, wanting to hear from the Religious Education staff about when the children’s pageant might be and what other traditions might occur during this time. Plus, I will have become a bit more aware of some of the themes that really need to be addressed, so even though I have ideas, I’ll keep this open.
December 6:
December 13
December 20:
December 27: Champagne and Chocolate Service
January 31: Special Musician: Justin Roth of Loveland.
Sometime in February:
A Theology of the Blues
We’ll need to find a blues band. We’ll explore the themes that the blues provides and the way that the blues can help us think about really important questions.
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