Giving

I’ve noticed...when I give to someone, someone else gives to me.

Not in perfect reciprocity, and not even between the same parties; and, not even through some kind of cosmic cause-and-effect.  But, that seems conspicuously not the point, especially if the same thing is happening to that other party.  Perhaps, it isn't even the dynamic of giving as much as it is the noticing....

Regardless, the point may be the same — giving seems to create more giving.  

Which, if true, kind of makes it obvious how absurd hoarding actually is.  Scarcity, then, is not a sustainable concept. 

But, a disposition towards abundance is.

Unfolding Love

We can choose to exercise the unfolding of love in our lives. I can meditate on a God who is Love, who has enfolded Godself as Love at the core of who I am and empowered me to participate in the unfolding of that Love in the world. Through that meditative prayer, we will come to better enact Love in the world. Our hearts can literally change our brains. Our altered brains will change our actions. That unfolding of love means I am empowered to live out my life in relationships that are loving, that engender mutuality and equality in the world.

-- Heidi Russell

Love is something we choose; most often, perhaps, because it chooses us.

Randoms...

There is something indispensable about a long walk.

Grief seems to overtake you in waves.

Given what we seem to know about growth, physical death can't really be the terminus we fear it is — perhaps more, as some have described, a kind of transformation.

What makes us believe in God, is our experience of God — so, how do we most experience God?

Prior Randoms...

Troubling Propensity

'Gameday'...with a larger point:

My hatred for Michigan State is not sensible. I did not come to it through logical decision making and a firm comprehension of the facts. My hate for Michigan State developed just as my love for Michigan did, naturally, easily, through a change of cities and the formation of lifelong friendships. And my politics are likely very much the same. I am proud of my willingness to be wrong, but I’ve noticed that I have a troubling propensity to excuse my own wrongness in the face of evidence by saying that hey, well, those guys are probably even more wrong than I am. That’s not reason. That’s fandom. 

-- Jane Coaston

On the Lighter Side: Mick

 On the Lighter Side:

In Spirals

The human mind always makes progress, but it is progress in spirals.

-- Madame de Staël

Thinking more about the brain lately, I can't help but notice how descriptive this observation feels right now — personally at the mental, but also physical, emotional and psychological levels and collectively at social, political, and spiritual levels.  

Given the whole theory of Spiral Dynamics, I can't help but wonder if this isn't also true meta-physically.

Life Imposes On Us…

Sometimes, life imposes itself upon us.

And, we don't like to be imposed upon; preferring existence on our terms — our predictabilities, sense of control, illusions of independence.

And yet, we are latently aware that our terms often end up insufficient in many ways, especially to the extent that they lead us towards a pre-occupation with ourselves, our own interests.  And that is not the true nature of things, of life, or existence.

We are not actually independent of much of anything, despite our desire to be so.  We are deeply inter-connected to nearly everything.  And this is by design.

And for all our working theories about whether or not life should have a say in our experience, it simply does.  We don't get to define normal; life does.

And sometimes that includes dramatic, even painful disruption.  

And, yet, what can't be dismissed either is that life also imposes nearly an infinite amount of…grace.

Our challenge seems to be when we feel caught more in former.  But, inevitably, there are features of God's design in all things that seems to relish the opportunity to be gracious, sometimes even in the most difficult of times.

In two days, our son Conner is going home after an uninvited and extended stay in a rehab hospital following his brain surgery nearly a month ago to remove a previously undetected tumor.  He has had, what felt like, some of the darkest days of his life.  It was agonizing, both for him and for us to watch.  We prayed for help.  We begged for relief.  We pleaded for healing.  We prayed a lot...for him in this moment and for his future yet ahead.

And, as this next step for him unfolds, we are now almost rhythmicly praying for his continued recovery, restoration, and prosperity.  Five weeks after his originating seizures, he still has a ways to go to return to full function and out-patient therapies will continue for weeks, if not months.  But, even with full awareness of that, we are also thankful that he is...alive (turns out, that was not a given by the time he arrived in the ER back on December 20).  We are thankful for the function that has returned to his body and for his gratitude for the way that so many have surrounded him during this impossible time.  He pecked out this TXT message yesterday — "In hardship comes incredible love and absolute abundance of good".  ...I am stunned by his recognition of what has happened, not that I didn't expect him to be capable of it, but by the power of the beauty of his spirit towards all those who have loved him through this.

Tami and I have felt surrounded by what feels like a whole series of concentric circles of care that have not only enveloped us, but also him and his wife, Gina.  We are so grateful that we could just be one of those circles.

I would call all of those circles God, whose Spirit lives so tangibly with each one of us.  Sometimes it takes the hour of our greatest need to not only recognize it, but to more fully know it.  

The road ahead still will not be easy.  But, we are celebrating the milestones along the way in hopes that they will add up for him and all of us to be where we need and want to be.

Life imposes itself on us, not like some alien creature (though it has certainly felt like that, too), but simply because we are a part of it — the bad...and the good, together.

UPDATE:  Just got word that Conner is being released a day earlier than expected from the rehab hospital — tomorrow!

Can't Be Great

Companies can’t be great, unless they've almost failed.

-- Bill Taylor

I'm not sure anything can....

Stops Growing

Ever noticed...what something looks like, when it stops growing?

It moves towards unsightly and eventually to grotesque.  

Is this calculus different for people?  Whatever the best description is, something doesn't feel right when people stop growing.

Let Me Love You

The entire history of the universe has been the history of the outpouring of love. Karl Rahner reminded us that grace is nothing other than the Divine’s self-communication in love. God creates in order to give God’s self away in love. All that creation has ever been invited to do is accept this gift of love. . . . Unfortunately, in our orientation toward action, we have forgotten that we are merely receivers. . . .

Being loved disarms us, brushes away our ego defenses, and then exposes us not only to the other, but to ourselves. And it is from ourselves that we most often hide our gaze. . . . Everywhere the Holy One is shouting and whispering, “Let me love you.” And all that is asked of us is to receive. In reality, that is our life’s work. Nothing more and certainly nothing less.

-- Judy Cannato

Randoms...

Be, where you are — in other words, stop trying to be somewhere else.

So much of what we do is imperfect and, therefore, misunderstood…even by our own selves (not to mention others).

Not unlike religious, political narrative is poisonous to the degree that it is about power and positioning.

Regarding the efficacy of truth, isn't it more about our ability to receive it than anything else?

Prior Randoms...

Media & Trust

Axios

Isn't it slightly revealing that we consume so much of the very thing we fear?  

What if...we just didn't?

Minna (IX)

'Poem for the week' -- "Minna (IX)":

Sedate and archaic, a twilight-frilled haze

Walks over the meadows like rolled-out centuries

Quivering in sprightly welcome.

Trees pushed down by silence;

Trees lolling in comely abandon;

Trees pungently flamboyant,

Their leaves spinning in the wind’s golden elusiveness.

Trees probing the shrilly sensitive sunset

Like little, laced nightmares leaning

Upon a scarlet breast;

Trees sprinkling their stifled mockery

Upon the blue tomb of the air;

Trees, are you silenced beings

Whitening into the winding paradise

Of old loves seeking a second death?

And has this archaic, twilight-frilled haze

Moulded me to your semblance?

-- Maxwell Bodenheim

  ...sometimes it's the very last line that....

Begins To See

In a dark time, the eye begins to see.

-- Theodore Roethke

When would an observation like this make the most sense?

So much of our awareness of the truth all around us is contextual.  We see it when the context (situation) we're in causes us to see it.  

Given our son's current journey, you can imagine why this might feel more significant right now.  I wonder what Conner is seeing.  I wonder what his wife is seeing right now.  Some of what I am seeing is reflected in the posts below....

What have times of darkness revealed to you?

Tables Will Be Turned

I feel more aware today than ever of how easily the tables can be turned.

What I didn't need yesterday, I may need today. What I need today, I may not need tomorrow.   

And, it all can change without a moments notice, as recent experience with our son has shown.  Life is many things, including tenuous.  

Anything I have to give now, I may need given to me at some point:  kindness, money, physical care, health, friendship, grace, etc. — in other words, in time, we all experience need of a rather common (shared) set of things.

Few things are not reducible past what we all need — and any difference in the perception of that may just be a matter of timing.

It probably isn't as much that this might be true — it is more likely that this will be true.  The tables will be turned; it is just a matter of how and when.

If I will likely receive what I have been willing to give, may that be a lot...in both directions.

LT: Responsibility of a Leader

The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality. The last is to say thank you. In between, the leader is a servant.

-- Max De Pree

MLK Day: Our God is Marching on! (How long? Not long!)

On this year's day of remembrance for the fallen leader, Martin Luther King Jr., the question reflected above remains more open than it should — it is not a problem with God as much as it is a problem with us, who should be the manifestation of God in these areas.

The link below selected 5 of MLK's speeches, all of which I have listened to.  It is clear that he understood the distinctives of his audiences, but more importantly the prevailing message that was needed, and still is.

5 of Martin Luther King Jr.’s most memorable speeches

I have respect for men like King who are both willing and able to speak truth to power under the banners of justice, peace and love.  And, especially, when they are willing to die in doing so (see last speech from the link above — he was killed the next day, at the age of 39).

Acceptance

How do we accept things that are hard or new to us?

...usually, very slowly, if at all.

Sometimes it's not just a simple decision, but rather a combination of forces that prevail upon us, in one way or another.

As I watch my son struggle with the rehab work he is doing, I'm noticing something that resides in me as well.  I have to accept something before it really starts to work for me.  Otherwise, while it might look like something is resisting me, the truth might more accurately be that I am resisting it.

While I relish the idea of change, the reality is I'm not much better at accepting it than anyone else is.  It happens, more often than not, when I'm pressed hard enough and I don't see another option.  That doesn't sound much like the sound-bites of the successful.  But, maybe they're not telling the whole truth either (it's often only the successful that get the air-time, what about the others...the rest of us?).  The reality is that change often forces itself upon us and when it does, we come down to a choice — work with it or against it.

May we all learn to more accept what is because that actually is the route towards making things better.  It is more honest.  It requires more courage.  It enables us to action of spirit, mind, and body.  And, it allows us to change, especially where we need to (whether we want to or not).  

Life sometimes presents us with the notion that we no longer have the option to return to the way things were.  So, unless we accept that, we end up spending a lot of energy in counter-productive ways — ways that actually impede our ability to progress, to change.

Enhanced by our current experience with Conner, this is quite active in my consciousness right now.  I would never wish for the circumstance, but I am thankful for the awareness it is bringing (hopefully, in the most spiritual sense, to both of us).  I have to believe this is much closer to what much of the main-line faith traditions are really all about and, therefore, I find some comfort that I am simply encountering the essence of life.

I Receive Your Love

Randoms...

It is conspicuously easy to judge things that make us feel uncomfortable.

Since nearly anyone can be a critic, we should be talking more about what is actually needed than simply being an expert about what is wrong.

Love is a kind of capacity and grows with use — it also seems to wither, when it isn't practiced.

Few things may be as humbling as receiving — does being the 'giver' make us feel more in control?

Prior Randoms...

Grace is Good for the World

Grace is good for the world, but it’s also really, really good for you. It keeps you from giving away your power or becoming that which you oppose. When you reject the revenge, aggression, domination, and retaliation that are the hallmarks of our culture and respond with grace, you bring peace into the world. You bring peace into your heart…….It is substantial and muscular. It is a force in its own right. It is our strength in times of trouble. It points us to the possibilities in people and in our country. It conjures up images of something more than what we have – of a place where the idea of the “other” does not exist. Grace is an idea worth saving, and in the end, it might just be what saves us – in ways we have not yet imagined.

-- Kirsten Powers, Saving Grace

Help

Instagram: mariashriver

Be strong enough to stand alone, smart enough to know when you need help, and brave enough to ask for it.

-- Maria Shriver

Effort

You cannot save people, you can only love them.

-- Anaïs Nin

There is so much involved with our effort.  

And, it so often ends up being such an entangling thing.  Over time, we bounce back-and-forth on its continuum — too much effort, and then too little.  Each a reaction to the other, rather than in response to something not so self-contained.  Something outside us instructs us to do more and then to let go.  Then to try again.  And, to release again.  Almost as into a long-term rhythm which instructs more about the influence upon us, than the which-is-it? dynamic confined to determining one or the other.

But, often it is our effort that both catalyzes and engages us.  And, it is that engagement that brings us to new spaces and, thereby, new understandings.  The effort isn't the thing, it is what carries us to the thing.

How much more abstraction do we have to endure here, you ask?  What the heck are you talking about?

I listen to his breathing — is it there?  Is it deepening?  I'm looking for the opportunity to relax the degree of my attention.  Otherwise, I must remain on high alert — what is happening? If something is, what does it mean?  Is everything OK?  Where is he regarding his meds?  Are they working?

The hospital room door flies open — it is time for something else, for the hundredth time.  What will this disrupt...yet again?  Can't he just rest?  

But, what if he rests too long, and then awakens to searing pain?  What do I do then?  What do I now, anticipating that possibility, before it happens?  

He moved...OK, that was a normal move.  He mutters something...what did he say?  He was probably dreaming — did you hear me?, he asks.  What did you say?

I need to stay awake, while he sleeps, so he can keep sleeping....

But, do I really?

Of course, I am dream-like describing parts of the all-nighters I've recently spent with Conner.  

Such an irony — so much effort to achieve...calmness.  Never quite successful, but ever the perceived goal.

And, in all that expending, both he and I working separately at a common or, at least, related thing.  So aware of each other, and so not able to fully be.

I get attached to my effort, believing it is what is needed.  It is what can make the difference for some short-term outcome, which impacts the long-term one.  The effort entangles something in me, without my even knowing it.  ...until I am not allowed to because something so relatively arbitrary imposes itself and I have to leave (visiting hours are over).  But, as I do, the effect of my effort accuses me — I'm betraying (abandoning) something, someone...him.

But, I'm not really doing something quite like that am I.  So, what is, after all, informing that particular way of framing it?

The process is, after all, more his than it is mine.  But, I have somehow inadvertently absorbed it, as mine.  I am only supporting his effort, even as he ends up with his own version of all the above (he is now putting his effort into work at a Rehab hospital in Indianapolis — and making good progress, in spite of the long road ahead of him).

I have to release what has accumulated right along side all my effort.  I need to re-trust something besides it.  I have to trust something in him, even more that what I'm trusting in myself.  I have to trust that something even beyond him is dispensing something he needs, showing him what he has access to, teaching him how to use it.  I have to trust a calmness I can't actually provide to gently provide what is needed right through the middle of the seemingly harshest of moments.  

We know this kind of thing happens, but mostly for others, right?  We don't know much about it ourselves, until it happens to us.  We resist everything about it, but it does its work anyway, giving us what we need, even if we don't recognize that until much later — time is irrelevant to revelation.  

None of this would be known, had I made no effort.  It was necessary.  

But, it was also not ultimately what was needed.  It did, however, reveal what was.  To me.  

And will for my son.

And for that reason, I will continue to give my effort in every way I can...and, then, let go of it.

Those Who Benefit

The new is threatening to those who benefit from the old.

-- Simon Sinek

True in business.  ...and in politics, in religion, and, too often, in matters of faith.

Love & Pain

Thought bubble:

If Love is the ultimate teacher, Pain may be its best tutor.

Perhaps it shouldn't be that way, but on the ground that seems like a pretty accurate description of how things work.  I've learned a lot from my experience with love, but it has often been pain that has put me in the position to receive that learning.  And, it makes some sense actually.  For love to be there waiting for us, as we encounter pain, is among the most stunning revelations (particularly because, some of our pain has been self-generated).

We are learning a lot right now about some aspects of love, especially the ones that involve pain.

Our son was able to transition from the hospital to a rehab facility yesterday.  We are thankful for the step in the right direction.  However, the healing time involved now is a lot of work — for all involved — as the road ahead is not a short one.

We are in control of so little, certainly for someone else, (but, also for ourselves).   It seems, at times, all we can do is simply take the next step, without necessarily knowing what doing so ensures (or doesn't ensure).  It is startling how much of our courage is tied to outcomes....

In the meantime, we simply try to work at what is in front of us and, in this case, encourage Conner to do the same...however challenging that is (or may become).

Grief and Suffering

Because we’re human, we hurt. Because we’re human, we have tears to cry. Because we’re human, our hearts are broken. Because we’re human, we understand that loss is a universal language. Everybody grieves. 

-- Rev. Jacqui Lewis

We must go through the stages of feeling, not only the last death, but all the earlier little (and not-so-little) deaths. If we bypass these emotional stages by easy answers, all they do is take a deeper form of disguise and come out in another way.

The great wisdom traditions are trying to teach us that grief isn’t something to run from. It’s a liminal space, a time of transformation.

-- Richard Rohr

The way to free yourself from pain is to feel it, not to run away, as difficult as that may be. 

The world needs your suffering, your courage, and your strength. Don’t try to kill your pain. Share it with another, communicate it. If the first person you talk to isn’t the right one, find someone else. Somebody somewhere wants to listen to your pain, to connect with you and understand you. When you find them, when you lighten your burden and discover the jewels and joy that are alive beneath the pain, later you’ll be present for others who are suffering.

-- Cuong Lu

After another long night in the hospital, i can't help but think about this trifecta perspective for my son — and for me — today.  May it all be (and come) true in some unfathomable way.

Randoms...from Others

It’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.

-- Lou Holtz

98% of human thought is “repetitive and pointless.”

-- Eckhart Tolle

Dare to be naïve.

-- Buckminster Fuller

Life is long for a brief timeline
then brief for a long time.

-- Mark Leidne

...is there a thread here? (Prior Randoms...from Others).

Visual: Stark & Solitary

 Visual - "Stark & Solitary"

Winona Lake, IN

It is interesting to note when certain imagery strikes us....  For example, why does this image grab me right now? Is the answer related to the events of this week?

Engagement With Pain

There is nothing quite like experiencing the pain of another person.

Half (?) the problem in our engagement with pain seems to be the embedded fear that it will never stop.

While difficult to embrace Teresa of Avila’s observation about it, it is not hard to notice that it also seems true.

I posted the above after a long, pain-filled night with Conner (see prior post).

As of late in the day today, though, he has walked quite a bit and is, as he says, ‘feeling human’ again…which underscores the observations above.

Perspective

It seems like, sometimes, we need periods when we don’t have perspective in order to inform periods when we do (have it). 

I’m in one of those ‘less perspective’ moments today.

Self-Care

Like most things healing related, self-care takes time; you can’t just take a pill.  We all need more patience (at least I do).

So much can be noticed / revealed when we are forced to slow down or stop:

• We are so anxious to get back to things, many of which aren’t really serving us all that well
• Why does it so often seem to take pain to stop us?
• What does real care look like?  Is it just comfort?  Does it include both waiting and effort (which can, at times, seem in conflict with each other)?
• What does self-care include (for the person suffering? For the people involved in care-giving?)
• What kinds of things do we have to believe, that seem easy for us to live past when things are ‘going well’ in our lives?

The list just seems to keep growing, the longer we sit with it….

And, perhaps, therein lies the secret...we must sit awhile, to truly care for ourselves enough to be even able to do so for someone else.

I've been doing a lot of sitting this week — literally and figuratively.  As I've done so, I've heard so many things I otherwise would never hear and I've become somewhat aware of what is adjusting within me.

When Do We Pray?

We've received a flood of communication over the last couple of weeks regarding our son's unexpected surgery.  Given the severity of his situation, much of the communication has included prayers on his (and our) behalf.

I prayed a lot, too.

We are happy to report that all indications are that the surgery went very well.  We are so relieved and grateful, even as we face the longer road to full recovery.

Reflecting on the whole thing a bit, we've recognized how little agency we've had over our lives, over the life our son, during this time.

And, in that respect, we can more easily see the connection between the events our lives and prayer.  Sometimes, that connection is harder to see, especially when life is less filled with crisis.

We when we are desperate, out of control, filled with outcomes we desire but are powerless to procure, we almost instinctively resort to prayer.  I don't even think we should be too ashamed to admit it, it is just true.

What and how we believe is easily upended when we are in clear need.  We pray for help, for intervention, for outcomes we desire before we have time to evaluate doing so.  I have the feeling that this is how it should be; that it is part of some of our most basic reality as human-beings.

The consistency of our prayer is not even a question during such times — it just happens, unabated.  During other times, it may be for us, as consistency has been widely used against us in such matters.

I'm less and less inclined to believe that the significance of prayer has much of anything to do with its degree of consistency.  

It probably has a lot more to do with our awareness...more on that thought to come.

In the meantime, we continue to pray for all kinds of things for Conner, not the least of which is relief from the physical pain he is still experiencing.  Then there is the emotional trauma of it all, which lays right below that surface...for all of us who know and love him.

So, I'm still praying...and am grateful that many others are as well.

Hope - Strength - Presence

Hope fills us with the strength to stay present, to abide in the flow of the Mercy no matter what outer storms assail us. It is entered always and only through surrender; that is, through the willingness to let go of everything we are presently clinging to. And yet when we enter it, it enters us and fills us with its own life — a quiet strength beyond anything we have ever known.

-- Cynthia Bourgeault

As I face today, and my son's brain surgery, I need this kind of hope...and strength.

According To Your Dignity

Jesus came to teach us the way of wisdom. He brought us a message that offers to liberate us from both the lies of the world and the lies lodged in ourselves. 

Love is who you are. When you don’t live according to love, you are outside of being. You’re not being real. When you love, you are acting according to your deepest being, your deepest truth. You are operating according to your dignity. 

-- Richard Rohr

Want to Change the World? First, Be Still.

Is there a better consideration with which to begin 2022?

 

When I was in college, I met a chain-smoking Franciscan priest who changed my life. He was a chaplain at my university and, like all Franciscans, had taken a vow of poverty. He was smart and compassionate, and I could not doubt his commitment to the marginalized.

Soon after I graduated, passionate about justice and wanting to make a difference in the world, I ran a church-based group that helped support undocumented immigrants and provided tutoring to their kids. I ran into the friar and we caught up.

He looked at me and said matter-of-factly, “You do not have the life of prayer and silence necessary to sustain the work you are doing.” I was a little insulted. What the hell did he know? But over the course of the next two years, he was proved right. I simply did not have the spiritual rhythms and practices to cultivate the wisdom, humility, thoughtfulness and rest my work required. I burned out quickly.

I still constantly feel a tension between the call to active engagement with a world in need and the call to silence and stillness.

In the sixth century, Gregory the Great said that we must move from “the secrecy of inward meditation” to “the wide space of active life,” but then quickly return to “the bosom of contemplation” because we will “too speedily freeze” if we do not “return with anxious earnestness to the fire of contemplation.” So, clearly, this tension I feel isn’t new. But then again, Gregory the Great couldn’t tweet.

For me, the internet has made this tension much more pronounced, particularly when it comes to the place of public advocacy and debate. We now have the ability through social media to advocate for issues and causes every moment of the day. Every moment we don’t is now an intentional choice. “Your silence is deafening” can be used to shame anyone who isn’t glued to the screen speaking out on any and every issue.

In addition, social media allows us to be aware of daily injustices all over the world. The amount of important and worthy causes that call for our attention feels endless. If we neglect any of them, is our silence deafening?

Advocacy in support of the oppressed, the poor, the marginalized and the pursuit of peace requires action. Particularly in a democracy, we have a responsibility to raise our voices to call for a more just and compassionate society for all people.

But the practices of silence, contemplation and stillness are essential disciplines in Christian spirituality. If you survey the advice of the saints from the past two millenniums, a consistent piece of advice emerges: Shut up. Be still.

In the fourth century, the Syrian poet Ephrem wrote, “Let your silence speak/to one who listens to you; with silent mouth.” The 16th-century Spanish Catholic mystic St. John of the Cross said, “What we need most in order to make progress is to be silent before this great God.” Mother Teresa said, “We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence.”

Voices of the church — across racial, ethnic, denominational, national and temporal bounds — urge us to silence and stillness. So, is silence violence or the very way to know God? How do we find the right balance between the need to work for change in the world and the need to cultivate a rich interior life of prayer and stillness? Is “balance” even what we are after since the pursuit of both justice and the contemplative life must be radical, wholehearted and countercultural?

How do we know when to speak up and when to withdraw? As a privileged person, how do I not turn a blind eye to the cause of justice but also not lose myself in a fog of screens, noise and distraction? There are no simple answers here. We need to examine ourselves to see if our silence and stillness grows from fear or apathy or if it is the holy silence of wisdom. But the witness of the church is that action must grow from a deep well of silence and prayer.

The literature scholar Alan Jacobs argues that we need to embrace “not a permanent silence, but a refusal to speak at the frantic pace set by social media.” He calls silence “the first option — the preferential option for the poor in spirit, you might say; silence as a form of patience, a form of reflection, a form of prayer.”

Jesus actively sought justice. His first public proclamation was that he came to “preach the good news to the poor” and “proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed” (Luke 4:16-19). Here, at the beginning of his public ministry, he spelled out that he was not just concerned with personal piety but also with the renewal of the social order and, indeed, the world.

But as one who tends toward action and activity, I am often shocked when reading the gospels by how much time Jesus spends not calling out injustice or touching lepers. He spent the first 30 years of his life in relative obscurity, learning a trade, living quietly. In the gospels, almost as soon as he is baptized and we think things will finally get going, he drops off the radar for 40 days, nearly silent in the desert.

Throughout his ministry, this man who could heal, who could preach, who was himself a prophet, ran from crowds and disappeared again and again to pray alone. When he spoke out against evil, he did so within a context of a life punctuated by long, intentional silences.

In “The Practices of Christian Preaching,” the theologian Jared Alcántara writes that we must take up both “active” practices of seeking justice and compassion, and “receptive” practices of discernment and silence. If we fail to engage in active practices, Alcántara says, “we risk becoming distant, aloof, and detached from the world around us.” But he also says, “if we fail to engage in receptive practices, we risk becoming distant from ourselves, offering living water to others while we die of thirst.” This is the pattern we see in the life of Jesus — a pattern of intentionally withdrawing into silence and just as intentionally returning to his public ministry.

The Christian faith tells us that we get the great privilege of participating in God’s work and renewal of all the world, but it also reminds us that ultimately, as the author Tyler Wigg-Stevenson has said, “the world is not ours to save.” Contemplative silence and prayer becomes the means by which we learn the limits of words and action, and where we learn to take up the right words and actions. It’s where we learn to slow down and then to work again at the mysterious pace of the Holy Spirit.

-- Tish Harrison Warren, NY Times Newsletters

This Year

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