Have you ever had a mystical experience? How do you reconcile it with your religion and/or rational thought process?
I have been part of nine or ten religious retreats since college. About half of those retreats featured an experience that could be interpreted as a message from a higher power.
About four years ago during a solitary outdoor meditation at Holy Cross, the words "I AM WITH YOU" emerged clearly in my head; at that exact moment, a whirlpool of leaves arose before me while the trees nodded approvingly. Stunned by this bizarre moment, I laughed out loud and dared God to do it again; almost immediately, a single leaf popped up from the swirl and tumbled in my direction.
Today I returned from a three-day, two-night stay along the coast of Maine. In respect for the privacy of my spiritual sisters, I'm going to omit details. But I will share that there were many little moments which C. G. Jung called Synchronicity which means "meaningful coincidences." Synchronicity describes coincides that are really, really incredible. Science cannot prove any causal relationship as to why the events happen simultaneously, but the coincidence is too striking, too significant, and too mysterious to be dismissed.
I could make a long list, but I want to keep them between the group. I will share one Hollywood moment, though. To give some context, keep in mind that our Spiritual Direction group has meet for three years. We have shared countless emotions, thoughts, and spiritual insights throughout these years. This retreat is something of a crowning event, a chance to celebrate and begin to say goodbye. On the last night, we gathered around a campfire along the bay waters, offering prayers for quite a long time. The sharing concluded with a short service. Finally, our Spiritual Director rang the "singing bell" (an ancient Buddhist practice, apparently) with conviction. The moment the "DING!" sounded, a shooting star flashed across the night sky.
Exchanging my Mystical Mask for Cynical Spectacles, I can think of a number of explanations:
(1) In my frailty, I cannot accept the finality of death and refuse to acknowledge the inevitability of non-existence. Therefore, as a coping mechanism, my mind creates a narrative of mystical beings, affirming my naive hope in a divine afterlife.
(2) Judgment was impaired by booze, drugs, sleep deprivation, wearing the wrong eyeglass prescription, or some combination thereof. (None of these apply, BTW.)
(3) Reading religious & spiritual material in seminary predisposes my brain to observe normal, random events in nature and reinterpret them into God's-winking-at-me moments.
(4) Temporary insanity.
(5) Permanent insanity.
Believing in "signs" is not foolproof. Without question, #1-5 happen in the real world. I would also say that every person can make mistakes, and it's possible for even the most enlightened among us to misinterpret what we experience. If we do decide to believe in "meaningful coincidences," then, what are the options for reconciling them with a Judeo-Christian belief system?
A. God as the clockmaker: God creates the clock and winds it up, but what happens after that depends on the parts. IOW, this is the Deism perspective.
B. God as the micro manager: God's finger pushes the hour hand and the second hand forward every second - Calvinism.
C. God as the clockmaker who exerts divine influence infrequently and anonymously, but God is ALWAYS present. I think this represents most mainline religious views, ie Anglican, Roman Catholic, Lutheran, etc.
The extremes of A and B would be easy. In "A," a Christian could be rational and say, I don't believe in this superstitious nonsense, there's a psycho-scientific explanation. With "B," God/Jesus gets credit for every cool thing that ever happens. Found a ten-dollar bill on the ground? Hey, thank Jesus for snatching it from another person's pocket - that bill was meant for you... for your next trip to the convenience store. Praise Him!
No, I'm somewhere on the "C" spectrum. I really hope that I'm not ego-centric enough to think that shooting stars are text messages from God addressed to me and my four friends. I do believe, however, that we are part of something larger than ourselves. We have a rightful place on planet earth, a wondrous creation whose plant and animal life cannot be fully controlled or understood. When I accept the mystery, life becomes a magical, spirit-filled adventure, and God is a loving and ever-present companion along that journey.
The time with my group feels like sacred adventure, and I hope that their individual journeys continue to be magical.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Retreating
Tomorrow I'm leaving for a three-day, two-night retreat with my spiritual direction group. The five of us will be in a place in Maine. Half of the retreat will be spent in "the great silence," meaning that we do not speak. The group will be deprived of my usual witty remarks...bless them for their sacrifices.
The only other place where I have done a silent retreat has been the Holy Cross retreat center along the Hudson River in New York state. The first time I heard of this about ten years ago, it struck me as bizarre. But once I got used to it, it became PDC (pretty damn cool). The silence forced me to discover that my reflex is to FILL the silence - with conversation, with music, with TV, whatever. I don't take enough time to appreciate those quiet moments, those chances to let my brain rest from auditory stimuli.
Walter Lippmann once said, "Many a time I have wanted to stop talking and find out what I really believe." Taking Lippmann a step further, a quiet surrounding can open the door to insight; sometimes ideas and revelations can bubble to the surface of our consciousness if we allow them. And taking yet another step, perhaps quieting ourselves makes room for the small still voice of God.
The next time you find yourself in quiet, notice if you try to fill that absence of sound. For a little while, try to sit with that silence, viewing it not as the absence of sound but the PRESENCE of something else. In the words of the Psalmist: "Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)
The only other place where I have done a silent retreat has been the Holy Cross retreat center along the Hudson River in New York state. The first time I heard of this about ten years ago, it struck me as bizarre. But once I got used to it, it became PDC (pretty damn cool). The silence forced me to discover that my reflex is to FILL the silence - with conversation, with music, with TV, whatever. I don't take enough time to appreciate those quiet moments, those chances to let my brain rest from auditory stimuli.
Walter Lippmann once said, "Many a time I have wanted to stop talking and find out what I really believe." Taking Lippmann a step further, a quiet surrounding can open the door to insight; sometimes ideas and revelations can bubble to the surface of our consciousness if we allow them. And taking yet another step, perhaps quieting ourselves makes room for the small still voice of God.
The next time you find yourself in quiet, notice if you try to fill that absence of sound. For a little while, try to sit with that silence, viewing it not as the absence of sound but the PRESENCE of something else. In the words of the Psalmist: "Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Soaps are no joke
You are like sands in the hourglass, all my young and restless children. Though you are bold and beautiful, be careful out there; wouldn't want to see you in the hospital, generally.
Soap operas are a global phenomenon. Check out the article by Drake Bennett that ran in last Sunday's Boston Globe: http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2010/05/02/how_soap_operas_could_save_the_world/
The article makes the case that soaps operas influence social values more than you might expect. Soaps often weave important sociological issues in their story lines, issues such as health tips, women's rights, how many children a family decides to have. Bennett reports that worldwide studies reveal how these programs impact viewers' ideas and behaviors.
In Rwanda, for instance, the program "New Dawn" is a soap created and broadcast by a non-governmental organization. The show features a Romeo-and-Juliet romance between members of rival clans. A study found that "New Dawn" has not, unfortunately, changed viewers' ideas about mass violence, but it has made Rwandans more open to the idea of inter-group marriage.
From Rwanda to Pennsylvania... when I worked in a community-building project in Bucks County a few years ago, one of the neighborhood leaders was a woman I'll call M. She is a revered elder, a community den mother who gives tirelessly to help her neighbors, especially the children. M has a quiet, saintly aura about her. She will do anything for you... except between 3 and 4 pm weekdays, the time when "her stories" are on TV. Community planning meetings would get scheduled around this sacred hour... no joke.
I have to admit that I was baffled to such devotion to a soap opera. But the truth is that I'm no different. After all, sports are soap operas on a field of play. Why do I monitor the Phillies score every day with the intensity of a husband checking on his wife in labor? For that matter, why do I get hooked by "Star Trek" shows, especially the series that have a continuing story line (especially "Deep Space Nine" and "Enterprise")?
The reason, I think, is that I crave the drama. We all yearn for excitement, especially if our daily lives are full of the safe and the routine. And I'll admit, I've borrowed a few Trek quotes in my time, as the writers frequently borrow from Shakespeare and other timeless sages. Likewise, sports can spotlight virtues such as teamwork and confidence in adverse situations, just like soaps can encourage folks to get a breast exam or check themselves for testicular cancer.
The only difference is that some of us play out our info-tainment fantasies on a baseball diamond or a warp-speed starship, while others would rather turn with the world under a guiding light.
Soap operas are a global phenomenon. Check out the article by Drake Bennett that ran in last Sunday's Boston Globe: http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2010/05/02/how_soap_operas_could_save_the_world/
The article makes the case that soaps operas influence social values more than you might expect. Soaps often weave important sociological issues in their story lines, issues such as health tips, women's rights, how many children a family decides to have. Bennett reports that worldwide studies reveal how these programs impact viewers' ideas and behaviors.
In Rwanda, for instance, the program "New Dawn" is a soap created and broadcast by a non-governmental organization. The show features a Romeo-and-Juliet romance between members of rival clans. A study found that "New Dawn" has not, unfortunately, changed viewers' ideas about mass violence, but it has made Rwandans more open to the idea of inter-group marriage.
From Rwanda to Pennsylvania... when I worked in a community-building project in Bucks County a few years ago, one of the neighborhood leaders was a woman I'll call M. She is a revered elder, a community den mother who gives tirelessly to help her neighbors, especially the children. M has a quiet, saintly aura about her. She will do anything for you... except between 3 and 4 pm weekdays, the time when "her stories" are on TV. Community planning meetings would get scheduled around this sacred hour... no joke.
I have to admit that I was baffled to such devotion to a soap opera. But the truth is that I'm no different. After all, sports are soap operas on a field of play. Why do I monitor the Phillies score every day with the intensity of a husband checking on his wife in labor? For that matter, why do I get hooked by "Star Trek" shows, especially the series that have a continuing story line (especially "Deep Space Nine" and "Enterprise")?
The reason, I think, is that I crave the drama. We all yearn for excitement, especially if our daily lives are full of the safe and the routine. And I'll admit, I've borrowed a few Trek quotes in my time, as the writers frequently borrow from Shakespeare and other timeless sages. Likewise, sports can spotlight virtues such as teamwork and confidence in adverse situations, just like soaps can encourage folks to get a breast exam or check themselves for testicular cancer.
The only difference is that some of us play out our info-tainment fantasies on a baseball diamond or a warp-speed starship, while others would rather turn with the world under a guiding light.
Friday, April 30, 2010
The contrast of my world and the prison system
This morning I took a break from writing to get a haircut. Since the St. Michael's confirmation class gets confirmed on Saturday and I preach on Sunday, I need to look more like a seminarian and less like Sasquatch.
Thus, I left the apartment, walked up Oxford Street, hung a left at Sacramento, proceeded onto Mass Ave and, eventually, the barber shop. The sunlight felt strong, but the cool breeze kept the temperature pleasant. Flowers bloom everywhere, most of which I cannot identify.
The route takes me past the Baldwin Elementary School. Kids fill the small playground with laughter and excitement as though they could smell summer vacation (or the weekend, for that matter). Further up Sacramento opposite the school is a community garden. Surrounded by short fence, the garden looks crowded yet busting with a variety of plant life.
Even though I've lived here since September, I never adopted the neighborhood as my own. Such is the life of a residential graduate student planning to leave in June. The gift, though, is that these last weeks have a special feel to them. I'm appreciating these little Cambridge discoveries, knowing that I won't have much longer to enjoy them here.
How fortunate I am to have freedom to explore a side street normally off my radar. How blessed I am to have two legs which carry me from place to place. How wonderful it is to see a vibrant community in the freshness of spring and Eastertide.
...And, what a contrast this moment is to the life of the approximately 2.5 million inmates in American prisons. The fences, the recess on a blacktopped-enclosed space, my freedom to maneuver... all these reminded me what I have learned this semester in the "Prison Abolition" course taught at EDS by Rev. Canon Ed Rodman.
In short, the prison situation is a revolving-door mess. We are putting more and more people behind bars, disproportionately people of color, especially young African American males. When they are released - as 98% are, eventually - ex-offenders come out more hardened than "rehabilitated." They often lack the support needed to reenter the community: job skills, mentors, mental health counseling, access to living-wage employment, just to name a few. Too frequently, they wind up violating their probation and returning to jail either because of a minor offense or because they returned to crime.
A few years ago I worked with a federal Weed and Seed site in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. The idea was to work comprehensively with an at-risk neighborhood to reduce crime. One of the initiatives included a reentry program for ex-offenders. It was a challenge getting consistent participation. At that time, I simply had no idea how overwhelming and interconnected the problem is. Unfortunately, our prison system has become part of the problem.
The core text for the class has been When the Prisoners Ran Walpole: A True Story in the Movement for Prison Abolition by Jamie Bissonette. The book chronicles how a coalition of prisoners, concerned citizens, and progressive government officials worked together in the early 1970s to make Walpole a more effective (and more humane) facility. Ultimately, though, racial tensions and resistance from the guards collapsed the experiment.
One of the reformers was John O. Boone, the Commissioner of Corrections for the state of Massachusetts during the early 70s. In 2002, he spoke at the Critical Resistance conference to a group of younger people about reform. When they asked him how they could engage with guards to improve the system, he gave the following reply:
I think you all have a lot of energy and a lot of good ideas but I don't think you should be talking about reform. You can't reform this corrupt system. It is rotten to the core. Abolishment is the only course of action. And don't say it can't be done. I have seen a lot of abolishment in my lifetime. I only wish I was as young as you. (Bissonette, page 50) Obviously, almost everyone wants safe streets, a fair system of law and order, and crime deterrence policies that do more good than harm. I haven't done enough research to advocate specific public policy changes. I'm not sure if I agree with Boone's shocking declaration, or if such a radical step is even possible. For now, I am as grateful to have my eyes opened to the Prison Industrial Complex, almost as grateful as I am for walks in the springtime.
Thus, I left the apartment, walked up Oxford Street, hung a left at Sacramento, proceeded onto Mass Ave and, eventually, the barber shop. The sunlight felt strong, but the cool breeze kept the temperature pleasant. Flowers bloom everywhere, most of which I cannot identify.
The route takes me past the Baldwin Elementary School. Kids fill the small playground with laughter and excitement as though they could smell summer vacation (or the weekend, for that matter). Further up Sacramento opposite the school is a community garden. Surrounded by short fence, the garden looks crowded yet busting with a variety of plant life.
Even though I've lived here since September, I never adopted the neighborhood as my own. Such is the life of a residential graduate student planning to leave in June. The gift, though, is that these last weeks have a special feel to them. I'm appreciating these little Cambridge discoveries, knowing that I won't have much longer to enjoy them here.
How fortunate I am to have freedom to explore a side street normally off my radar. How blessed I am to have two legs which carry me from place to place. How wonderful it is to see a vibrant community in the freshness of spring and Eastertide.
...And, what a contrast this moment is to the life of the approximately 2.5 million inmates in American prisons. The fences, the recess on a blacktopped-enclosed space, my freedom to maneuver... all these reminded me what I have learned this semester in the "Prison Abolition" course taught at EDS by Rev. Canon Ed Rodman.
In short, the prison situation is a revolving-door mess. We are putting more and more people behind bars, disproportionately people of color, especially young African American males. When they are released - as 98% are, eventually - ex-offenders come out more hardened than "rehabilitated." They often lack the support needed to reenter the community: job skills, mentors, mental health counseling, access to living-wage employment, just to name a few. Too frequently, they wind up violating their probation and returning to jail either because of a minor offense or because they returned to crime.
A few years ago I worked with a federal Weed and Seed site in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. The idea was to work comprehensively with an at-risk neighborhood to reduce crime. One of the initiatives included a reentry program for ex-offenders. It was a challenge getting consistent participation. At that time, I simply had no idea how overwhelming and interconnected the problem is. Unfortunately, our prison system has become part of the problem.
The core text for the class has been When the Prisoners Ran Walpole: A True Story in the Movement for Prison Abolition by Jamie Bissonette. The book chronicles how a coalition of prisoners, concerned citizens, and progressive government officials worked together in the early 1970s to make Walpole a more effective (and more humane) facility. Ultimately, though, racial tensions and resistance from the guards collapsed the experiment.
One of the reformers was John O. Boone, the Commissioner of Corrections for the state of Massachusetts during the early 70s. In 2002, he spoke at the Critical Resistance conference to a group of younger people about reform. When they asked him how they could engage with guards to improve the system, he gave the following reply:
I think you all have a lot of energy and a lot of good ideas but I don't think you should be talking about reform. You can't reform this corrupt system. It is rotten to the core. Abolishment is the only course of action. And don't say it can't be done. I have seen a lot of abolishment in my lifetime. I only wish I was as young as you. (Bissonette, page 50) Obviously, almost everyone wants safe streets, a fair system of law and order, and crime deterrence policies that do more good than harm. I haven't done enough research to advocate specific public policy changes. I'm not sure if I agree with Boone's shocking declaration, or if such a radical step is even possible. For now, I am as grateful to have my eyes opened to the Prison Industrial Complex, almost as grateful as I am for walks in the springtime.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The Goodbye Season
May and June is the Season of Goodbye.
My mom taught in the local public school system for 29 years. I'm a college graduate and coming to the end of my third year of seminary and working towards a masters degree. Rarely does a year go by when I don't know someone who is graduating from somewhere. Thus, the academic calendar greatly impacts how I mark time. Perhaps that explains my feeling that May and June have more goodbyes than any other two months of the year.
The last Episcopal Divinity School class of the semester happens in two days. For some of my classmates, this means the last class, ever. (Not me, though: I'm doing an encore by taking two courses in June.) Meanwhile, this is my last week at St. Michael's Episcopal Church, Milton, MA. In a mere nine months, St. Mike's has become a beloved community, a place of comfort and challenge, and an important part of my formation to parish ministry. There are so many "mini" communities in a parish, and so many that I have immensely enjoyed at St. Mike's, that the farewells must be spread over several weeks. The same at EDS - there are so many relationships and subgroups within the wider EDS family that need hugs and acknowledgment.
Alexander Graham Bell once said, "When one door closes another door opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us." In one sense, Bell is right that dwelling on the past can prevent us from fully experiencing the present. One might say that Goodbyes are Hellos looking backwards.
At the same time, I admit to feeling the lure of that closing-door trap. Did I appreciate being surrounding by fantastic people at EDS and St. Michael's? Did I have the conversations I needed to have? Did I take an active interest in the lives of the people around me, or was I too preoccupied with the to-do list? Am I really facing the reality that some of these wonderful folks I will never see again, and most of the other relationships will change once I leave?
These are scary and important questions. For now, I don't have the luxury of time to reflect - I've got papers to write so that I can graduate. That said, within my constraints, I hope to follow the advice of my seminary colleague Stephanie and say "good goodbyes" these next few months. Loss is hard. Saying goodbye to friends, acknowledging the loss of their company, is hard. The one farewell I eagerly await comes on July 1, when I can say bye to the Goodbye Season.
My mom taught in the local public school system for 29 years. I'm a college graduate and coming to the end of my third year of seminary and working towards a masters degree. Rarely does a year go by when I don't know someone who is graduating from somewhere. Thus, the academic calendar greatly impacts how I mark time. Perhaps that explains my feeling that May and June have more goodbyes than any other two months of the year.
The last Episcopal Divinity School class of the semester happens in two days. For some of my classmates, this means the last class, ever. (Not me, though: I'm doing an encore by taking two courses in June.) Meanwhile, this is my last week at St. Michael's Episcopal Church, Milton, MA. In a mere nine months, St. Mike's has become a beloved community, a place of comfort and challenge, and an important part of my formation to parish ministry. There are so many "mini" communities in a parish, and so many that I have immensely enjoyed at St. Mike's, that the farewells must be spread over several weeks. The same at EDS - there are so many relationships and subgroups within the wider EDS family that need hugs and acknowledgment.
Alexander Graham Bell once said, "When one door closes another door opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us." In one sense, Bell is right that dwelling on the past can prevent us from fully experiencing the present. One might say that Goodbyes are Hellos looking backwards.
At the same time, I admit to feeling the lure of that closing-door trap. Did I appreciate being surrounding by fantastic people at EDS and St. Michael's? Did I have the conversations I needed to have? Did I take an active interest in the lives of the people around me, or was I too preoccupied with the to-do list? Am I really facing the reality that some of these wonderful folks I will never see again, and most of the other relationships will change once I leave?
These are scary and important questions. For now, I don't have the luxury of time to reflect - I've got papers to write so that I can graduate. That said, within my constraints, I hope to follow the advice of my seminary colleague Stephanie and say "good goodbyes" these next few months. Loss is hard. Saying goodbye to friends, acknowledging the loss of their company, is hard. The one farewell I eagerly await comes on July 1, when I can say bye to the Goodbye Season.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sleep as spiritual practice
I am becoming increasingly convinced that sleep should be considered a “spiritual practice.”
The Judeo-Christian tradition has long embraced the concept of Sabbath. The first Sabbath comes as early as the dawn of creation: “So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.” (Genesis 2:3) The practice of Sabbath day becomes codified in the Ten Commandments: “Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy,” (Exodus 20:8) and “Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, as the LORD your God commanded you.” (Deuteronomy 5:12) Sabbath days, according to the Old Testament, served two purposes: they set aside a day to worship God (Ex 31:13-17) and rest for people, including slaves and cattle (Deut 5:14).1
Sleep, of course, is a form of rest. It’s a bit of a stretch to consider sleep as worship, although long sermons have been known to induce a snooze or two. I wonder what would happen, though, if we changed our paradigm of sleep. What if we approached sleeping as if we were entering church? Or to be more specific, what if we saw sleep as entering sacred space?
Returning to Biblical tradition, there are numerous examples of God speaking to the people through dreams. In Genesis alone, we have Jacob’s ladder to heaven (chapter 28), Joseph’s dreams of power (37), and Pharaoh asking Joseph to interpret his dreams. (40)2 Our faith stories tell us that dreams can carry divine messages.
Beyond the mythology, we know that dreams in REM sleep serve a healthful purpose. In our unconscious world, memories and emotions play out in the tableau of dreams. Although there is much we do not understand about the unconscious, some neuroscientists believe that dreams serve to cleanse our memories. Negative emotions associated with our conscious thoughts and memories are separated and subsequently get “washed away” during dreams, keeping us from becoming overwhelmed by bad memories. This theory would partially explain and affirm the credo that time heals all wounds. In any event, we know that dreams are necessary for mental health.3
Dreams are not the only health benefit of sleep. Our bodies have an incredible capacity for self-healing while we are in such a low-power state. Sleep has also been described as “the great leveler.”4 Everyone rich and poor, young and old requires time in this state of inactivity and vulnerability.
Unfortunately, 21st century upper-middle class American culture brings a fast pace and high expectation for lots of “doing.” It’s common for people to squeeze more “doing” in their days, cut into sleep time, and then compensate the next morning with caffeine. Children are not immune: when the instant messaging craze hit a few years ago, high school students reported getting less sleep, presumably because they were up later to message their friends.5 Christians are particularly vulnerable to sleep cutbacks. We pride ourselves on sacrifice and mission, so it’s easy to get caught up in our work at the expense of rest.
Christians would be wise to heed the words of one youth group member: “Nothing essential stops when I sleep.”6 Making time for quality sleep is self care, as it stabilizes our mental and emotional health. Sleep gives our bodies a chance to heal. In our dreams, we open ourselves to the possibility of revelation, perhaps even from the divine. We enter a vulnerable state, one that points to our dependence on God.
Sleep is a spiritual practice. Good night.
1 Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, F.L. Cross, ed., 3rd ed, Oxford University Press, 1997. 2 Rodger Kamenetz, The History of Last Night’s Dream: Discovering the Hidden Path to the Soul (New York: Harper, 2007). 3 Paul Martin, Counting Sheep: the Science and Pleasures of Sleep and Dreams (New York: St. Marin’s, 2004). 4 Ibid. 5 Peggy Kendall, Rewired: Youth Ministry in an Age of IM and MySpace (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2007), page 17-18. 6 Mark Oestreicher, Youth Ministry 3.0: A Manifesto (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2008), page 114.
The Judeo-Christian tradition has long embraced the concept of Sabbath. The first Sabbath comes as early as the dawn of creation: “So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.” (Genesis 2:3) The practice of Sabbath day becomes codified in the Ten Commandments: “Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy,” (Exodus 20:8) and “Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, as the LORD your God commanded you.” (Deuteronomy 5:12) Sabbath days, according to the Old Testament, served two purposes: they set aside a day to worship God (Ex 31:13-17) and rest for people, including slaves and cattle (Deut 5:14).1
Sleep, of course, is a form of rest. It’s a bit of a stretch to consider sleep as worship, although long sermons have been known to induce a snooze or two. I wonder what would happen, though, if we changed our paradigm of sleep. What if we approached sleeping as if we were entering church? Or to be more specific, what if we saw sleep as entering sacred space?
Returning to Biblical tradition, there are numerous examples of God speaking to the people through dreams. In Genesis alone, we have Jacob’s ladder to heaven (chapter 28), Joseph’s dreams of power (37), and Pharaoh asking Joseph to interpret his dreams. (40)2 Our faith stories tell us that dreams can carry divine messages.
Beyond the mythology, we know that dreams in REM sleep serve a healthful purpose. In our unconscious world, memories and emotions play out in the tableau of dreams. Although there is much we do not understand about the unconscious, some neuroscientists believe that dreams serve to cleanse our memories. Negative emotions associated with our conscious thoughts and memories are separated and subsequently get “washed away” during dreams, keeping us from becoming overwhelmed by bad memories. This theory would partially explain and affirm the credo that time heals all wounds. In any event, we know that dreams are necessary for mental health.3
Dreams are not the only health benefit of sleep. Our bodies have an incredible capacity for self-healing while we are in such a low-power state. Sleep has also been described as “the great leveler.”4 Everyone rich and poor, young and old requires time in this state of inactivity and vulnerability.
Unfortunately, 21st century upper-middle class American culture brings a fast pace and high expectation for lots of “doing.” It’s common for people to squeeze more “doing” in their days, cut into sleep time, and then compensate the next morning with caffeine. Children are not immune: when the instant messaging craze hit a few years ago, high school students reported getting less sleep, presumably because they were up later to message their friends.5 Christians are particularly vulnerable to sleep cutbacks. We pride ourselves on sacrifice and mission, so it’s easy to get caught up in our work at the expense of rest.
Christians would be wise to heed the words of one youth group member: “Nothing essential stops when I sleep.”6 Making time for quality sleep is self care, as it stabilizes our mental and emotional health. Sleep gives our bodies a chance to heal. In our dreams, we open ourselves to the possibility of revelation, perhaps even from the divine. We enter a vulnerable state, one that points to our dependence on God.
Sleep is a spiritual practice. Good night.
1 Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, F.L. Cross, ed., 3rd ed, Oxford University Press, 1997. 2 Rodger Kamenetz, The History of Last Night’s Dream: Discovering the Hidden Path to the Soul (New York: Harper, 2007). 3 Paul Martin, Counting Sheep: the Science and Pleasures of Sleep and Dreams (New York: St. Marin’s, 2004). 4 Ibid. 5 Peggy Kendall, Rewired: Youth Ministry in an Age of IM and MySpace (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2007), page 17-18. 6 Mark Oestreicher, Youth Ministry 3.0: A Manifesto (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2008), page 114.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Way to Live
This semester at EDS, readings have run the gamut of St. Paul to F.D. Morris to prison abolitionists. When I have needed a downshift from such dense material, I would read a chapter of WAY TO LIVE: CHRISTIAN PRACTICES FOR TEENS edited by Dorothy C. Bass and Don C. Richter. It has been like munching on fine chocolates in between servings of vegetables.
WAY TO LIVE contains twenty essays about topics that challenge teenagers in their daily lives such as time, friendship, music, justice, choices, and prayer. Published in 2002, the book was assembled through the Valparaiso Project on the Education and Formation of People in Faith. Each chapter has a different author or authors, and these writers include a diverse group of Christians voices. We hear from students and teachers, children and parents, women and men, and a half-dozen Christian denominations.
Each chapter focuses on one theme. For instance, the fifth chapter is entitled "Food". It begins with a quote from an 18 year-old who thinks of each meal as a "gift from God". Then we get a brief assortment of statements that kids are likely to hear about food, such as "Remember the food pyramid!" Having begun with familiar contexts, the writers invite us into some basic theological themes related to food. For instance, we are reminded that a meal is a gift from God which calls for our expression of gratitude (such as saying grace). From there, we discover that food connects us to so many other people, as it comes to us through a train of human labor from the field to the kitchen. It ties us to those who brought it to us, just as it can connect us to those at the table. Thus, food can be an object of welcome, a rallying point that brings people together. We then consider how feasting and fasting can bring us closer to God. Finally, the chapter concludes with some reflections about sharing a meal with Christ.
I like how the author invites the reader into the chapter by beginning with familiar contexts and moving into deeper theological territory. We get a nice balance of contemporary social matters, scriptural references, theological insights, and suggested action items. Not only did I like the writing, but I also appreciate the ample photos and illustrations which liven up the text. Many of these illustrations are generalized, iconic figures which gives WAY TO LIVE a timeless feel.
Although I've not read every word, I have yet to find a chapter I don't like. The editors appear to have made a conscious choice not to select authors who are too preachy or dogmatic. WAY embraces a pretty mainstream theology, I think. Kudos also for the efforts to spotlight gender bias by using inclusive versions of the Psalms (in the chapter on grieving, for example).
As much as I enjoyed this book, I do have a few reservations. WAY cries for a revised edition, as there is almost no mention of the technology that has permeated youth culture in the last few years. Thus, we have little discussion of cell phones, text messages, Facebook, and so forth. The illustrations may be timeless, but the writing could use some tech-aware updating.
I also have to wonder who will read this book and when. Junior and senior high school students could be asked to read a chapter a week, since the chapters tend to run a managable 15-20 pages. But school years are so demanding between academics and after-school sport & music practice time, so I'm not sure when kids will have the time or patience to digest this material. Maybe a devout few will experience WAY like I did: a candy snack in between rigorous studies.
With the caveat that the book needs to be supplemented with a few tech-savvy lessons, WAY TO LIVE is a reader-friendly, theologically-sound resource for people of all ages who want to bring Christ into their daily lives.
WAY TO LIVE contains twenty essays about topics that challenge teenagers in their daily lives such as time, friendship, music, justice, choices, and prayer. Published in 2002, the book was assembled through the Valparaiso Project on the Education and Formation of People in Faith. Each chapter has a different author or authors, and these writers include a diverse group of Christians voices. We hear from students and teachers, children and parents, women and men, and a half-dozen Christian denominations.
Each chapter focuses on one theme. For instance, the fifth chapter is entitled "Food". It begins with a quote from an 18 year-old who thinks of each meal as a "gift from God". Then we get a brief assortment of statements that kids are likely to hear about food, such as "Remember the food pyramid!" Having begun with familiar contexts, the writers invite us into some basic theological themes related to food. For instance, we are reminded that a meal is a gift from God which calls for our expression of gratitude (such as saying grace). From there, we discover that food connects us to so many other people, as it comes to us through a train of human labor from the field to the kitchen. It ties us to those who brought it to us, just as it can connect us to those at the table. Thus, food can be an object of welcome, a rallying point that brings people together. We then consider how feasting and fasting can bring us closer to God. Finally, the chapter concludes with some reflections about sharing a meal with Christ.
I like how the author invites the reader into the chapter by beginning with familiar contexts and moving into deeper theological territory. We get a nice balance of contemporary social matters, scriptural references, theological insights, and suggested action items. Not only did I like the writing, but I also appreciate the ample photos and illustrations which liven up the text. Many of these illustrations are generalized, iconic figures which gives WAY TO LIVE a timeless feel.
Although I've not read every word, I have yet to find a chapter I don't like. The editors appear to have made a conscious choice not to select authors who are too preachy or dogmatic. WAY embraces a pretty mainstream theology, I think. Kudos also for the efforts to spotlight gender bias by using inclusive versions of the Psalms (in the chapter on grieving, for example).
As much as I enjoyed this book, I do have a few reservations. WAY cries for a revised edition, as there is almost no mention of the technology that has permeated youth culture in the last few years. Thus, we have little discussion of cell phones, text messages, Facebook, and so forth. The illustrations may be timeless, but the writing could use some tech-aware updating.
I also have to wonder who will read this book and when. Junior and senior high school students could be asked to read a chapter a week, since the chapters tend to run a managable 15-20 pages. But school years are so demanding between academics and after-school sport & music practice time, so I'm not sure when kids will have the time or patience to digest this material. Maybe a devout few will experience WAY like I did: a candy snack in between rigorous studies.
With the caveat that the book needs to be supplemented with a few tech-savvy lessons, WAY TO LIVE is a reader-friendly, theologically-sound resource for people of all ages who want to bring Christ into their daily lives.
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