Category Archives: community

Peaceful Feet Advent 2

12 Tuesday Dec 2017

Posted by in community, Jesus Christ, peace, pilgrimage, Uncategorized

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PeacefulFeetHow beautiful upon the mountain are the feet of the one who brings peace, says the prophet, and I would add “along the seashore, in the care facility, tn the church sanctuary, along the streets in the neighborhood, and in the shopping malls.” Too many feet are the bearers of bad tidings. The feet of the peaceful ones are, indeed, welcome, winsome and healing.

I am in awe of those this week whose feet are engaged in marches for reasons of peace–advocacy for DACA students, attention for the fragile in our world, and the strong, weary, persistent feet of the fighters of wind and flame here in Southern California, trying to save lives and home against the seemingly unremitting Santa Ana winds. When I hear footsteps approaching, I long for them to be the the steps of peace bringers, peacemakers, peacekeepers, peace seekers.

I kept company with my community of spirit journeyers yesterday in an Advent retreat, and for a few hours, we reflected on Christ, “the image of the invisible God,” as he walked this earth. Through copies of paintings of artists, we saw Jesus walking with his disciples on the Emmaus Road bringing them peace after their trauma at the crucifixion. We watched Jesus gliding over water to his frightened friends, and then in another painting saw him stop mid-stride when his being sensed the courageous one whose bleeding had kept her on the margins of life for so many years, and sensed her peace as healing flowed into her. This Prince of Peace is the One for whom we are waiting this season. Lady Julian reminds us that “He is our peace, when we ourselves are in un-peace.” We gathered to reflect and share on the stories of the One with peaceful feet that touched and challenged us.

However, I was once again struck with the feet of the very ones sitting in our circle, whose work in the world is so often to bring peace. One of us, while she was with us, was working on finding housing for those in the homeless shelter displaced by the SoCal fires. Another had been that week helping to raise money for the drilling of wells in villages in Niger. Someone else had been caring for family members who are ill, or had gone to the side of one in grief and despair. And each one there had taken herself to the place of being peace for someone else–at home, on-line, over land and sea–in speaking words of peace or in just showing up wordlessly  with peaceful presence.

I have seen several mashup posts from movies this week of dancing, all synchronized to a contemporary refrain and beat, and there is joy in seeing Fred Astaire, Julie Andrews, john Travolta and Minnie Mouse, one after the other,  swirl and tap out joy with their feet; that energy comes first from a peaceful being. Jesus, looking over Jerusalem, sighed,saying, “Would that you knew the things that made for peace!” We all echo that same sigh. And in this season of Advent while we wait, I am choosing to be the one with beautiful, peaceful feet, whether it is by sitting with my daughter overlooking the ocean as we contemplate the unknown future, or by dancing with my little loved ones for the sheer fun of it, or by taking a staff person in the church to lunch, or by collecting money day by day for the fragile ones further damaged by the fires around us. And the peace of God which passes all understanding will keep my heart and mind…

 

Sanctuary: A Place to Be Heard With Kindness

04 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by in community, compassion, friendship, listening, sanctuary

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images-1After the marches around the country and world last Saturday, I heard a common theme from those who participated: they had found a safe place to tell their stories and were heard with kindness, even amid packed subways, crowded plazas, and inconvenient travel. Those who marched felt as if their voices mattered in a way that will make a difference. They felt safe, and even in the teeming crowds there as sanctuary.

This past week I retreated with my beloved soul friends who study and pray together the rest of the year. We felt safe enough in the historic and beautiful retreat center to wrestle with Jesus’ instruction to pray for friends and enemies. As we sank into the comfort and safety of that familiar place, as we allowed the wearying and harsh realities of our personal journeys and of the chaotic world to surface, we told stories–of childhood, of early years of mothering, of Grace given and of grief of rejection.

As I contemplate my Word for this year, SANCTUARY, I am recognizing that the sanctuary that I seek and that I provide needs to be a place in which truth can be told and listened to. Year ago my friend Ken Medema wrote these words to a song about the Church: If this is not a place where tears are understood, where can I go to cry? So I seek sanctuary in Holy Presence, in silence, in prayer, and then in words too deep for sighs. But I need it also in friendship–one who will listen without interrupting, one who hears without judging, one can sit in silence while I struggle for words. I hope for someone who can hold my reaction of the day in confidence without needing to analyze, diagnose and prescribe. I long for someone who can welcome my story, even if they come from another perspective completely.

I am called to practice being that safe and compassionate listener, especially this year. Every tragic event is made up of personal stories; every piece of draconian legislation threatens particular persons with livelihoods and loving to maintain. Every wave of change or upheaval affects the arc of someone–in person. I have a small amount of agency by which I can make a political or social difference, and I must exercise that. But I have more power by which I can lend and ear, savor a tale, cherish a memory of someone who needs to tell it and hold it as sacred.

These days I am wearing an ornamental safety pin designed by my friend Kris Haig to signify to someone, “You are safe with me!” I begin with being a safe and sheltered place to listen to stories–simple or convoluted, sweet or horrific, fantastic or dreary. The story of the Holy One who comes in love and compassion to humanity, never to let go, grounds me and gives me ballast when the whirlwind sagas of those needing shelter come my way. We can be safe. sanctuary for each other.

 

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Out of Balance

31 Sunday Jul 2016

Posted by in balance, centering, community, faithfulness

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I have lost the last month of activity due to a bout with sciatica, which in my case is enabled by a life long habit of walking and sitting out of balance. The right side of my body has been carrying most of the freight of  my balance most of my life, and I learned when I first encountered this condition that with physical therapy and exercise, I could amend this imbalance, were I to be faithful to those practices. But, I allowed other, more accessible, more interesting, more appealing activities to overtake those necessary practices, and there it was: a flare up of the old malady.

I am making progress in redressing in imbalance, but was reminded that my own malady is an embodiment of so many things in our world right now. So much is out of balance–in our environment, in our allocation of resources needed for living, in our political processes, in our church identities, in our relationships, in our own calendars and planners, in our own estimate of our own value and worth. How did we get so off kilter? What have we allowed to take over our perspective and values? Where have we allowed ourselves to be pulled and pushed off the Center?

In my recovery as I have tried to re-calibrate my body, I have had to ask two questions. First, how do I keep myself in touch with the core, the organizing One of my life? My discomfort threw me out of my regular extended practices of prayer and reading, so what brief but constant connections do I need to be making? I found that in this time, since I was so focused on my body already, I could really use breath prayer to remember Who made me just the way I am, the Spirit who lives within me to heal, to energize, to teach, to give me Life. I also found that the music of my life was accessible in the heart as I tried to go to sleep, as I walked, as I re-established my patterns of exercise: “Loving God, here I am,””Peace, be still, the storm rages, peace be still,” “Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly…”  In addition sacred words, repeated in my heart kept me on target: In life and in death, I belong to God. I remembered that in my tradition, the first act of spiritual practice is to give thanks, so I resurrected my gratitude list, recalling every day what gifts I was being given: a new iris in the front yard, a surprise phone call, a new author or piece of music, a coming together of a project. Thank you God for everything!

In addition to to my own practices, in order to restore my own balance I need the help of others. In my first attempts to begin healing, I couldn’t walk very far without the help of a companion, usually my husband. I have begun walking around the block now, but having had the occasional setback, I still need to hang on during the treacherous parts of upturned pavement, the sharp turns or the surprise lurches. I have needed to ask people to drive me places that are farther than my leg can sustain. I have needed to invite people to come see me at home, rather than go to them. I need a community of people willing to help me out.

When I look at our global and national imbalance, I am conscious that it is only together that we can restore the balance of Spirit that we need so desperately. Therefore, I am so grateful for every voice that calls us to those practices of prayerful action that turn us toward the Holy One, toward God’s intent for justice with mercy, that articulates our call to speak peace even as we pray for our enemies. I need exemplars to give me courage and a template for returning good in the face of evil, for being peace in the midst of chaos, for bringing wholeness in the broken places; for every one who has made herself heard in this way, I give thanks.

Among the things that this latest physical setback has taught me is the fact that striving toward balance is a constant work in progress. I need to be vigilant and faithful in my exercises, mindful of the way I carry myself, observant of those patterns that let me slide. The day of ultimate perfect eternal balance may not come in my life time, but in my own person and in my participation on the world God made, with the compassion and energy of the community, I need to keep up the  holy work of finding balance for the healing of us all.

 

 

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