All the strands of my life had come together. Descendant of slave and of slave owner, I had already been called poet, lawyer, teacher, and friend. Now I was empowered to minister the sacrament of One in whom there is no north or south, no black or white, no male or female—only the spirit of love and reconciliation drawing us all toward the goal of human wholeness.
—Pauli Murray, Song in a Weary Throat

Reverend Dr. Pauli Murray (1910–1985) was the first Black woman ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church. Editor Anthony B. Pinn writes:

Growing up, [Pauli] Murray had a sneaking suspicion of the path she would take and the “cosmic” and historical events that might have conditioned her life.… [1]

In Murray’s words, “I came [into the priesthood] because I had no other alternative. I fought death, God, and my own articulated plans—but the Call would give me no peace until I had made the decision.” [2] It was not enough for Murray to discern the calling on her life; she wanted this recognized and acknowledged in ways that she could not produce on her own, ways that might point to the cosmic trail of God working in her personal history….

Shortly after her ordination, she addressed the issue of inclusion with passion, biting humor, and sarcasm. In this way, she pointed to her deep resolve to make social equality a moral and spiritual issue … : “Bearing pain for Christ’s sake does not mean that I shall participate in my own degradation. It means that I must witness to the equality of all humanity before God in words as well as deeds.” [3]

Murray preaches the value of recognizing the universal dignity of the children of God: 

To think of oneself as a child of God is a liberating experience—it is to free oneself from all feelings of inferiority—whether of race, or color, or sex, or age, or economic status, or position in life. When I say that I am a child of God—made in [God’s] image— … I imply that “Black is beautiful,” that White is beautiful, that Red is beautiful, or Yellow is beautiful. I do not need to make special pleading for my sex—male or female or in-between—to bolster self-esteem. When I truly believe that God is my Father and Mother, in short, my Creator, I am bound also to believe that all men, women, and children of whatever race, color, creed, or ethnic origin are my sisters-and-brothers-in-Christ—whether they are Anglicans, Roman Catholics, Methodists, Black Muslims, members of the Judaic faith, Russian Orthodox, Buddhists, or atheists…. If I am a child of God, a sister-in-Christ, and belong with all of you to the priesthood of all believers, then my job is to love, not hate, to be creative, not destructive, to follow Christ’s cross. This is the lesson of the great prophets down through the ages.... [4]

____________________________________

Story From Our Community

My contemplative practice centers on my breath. Each morning, I sit in stillness for what I call, “coming home to myself.” Sometimes, though rarely, I feel a part of the greater whole which evokes great tenderness within me. I don’t know whether to softly cry in surrender to such love or whether to bubble up with a quiet joy. For the last couple of years, I recognize how quiet yet strong I have become. I am content and at peace within myself. More importantly, I can now be amused by people and actions I would have judged harshly before. This is my experience of divinity.
—Kathy R.

Always in God’s Presence

Why is there a war?… Because I and my neighbor and everyone else do not have enough love. Yet we could fight war and all its excrescences by releasing, each day, the love that is shackled inside us, and giving it a chance to live.
—Etty Hillesum

Richard Rohr has long drawn comfort and wisdom from the writings of the young Jewish woman Etty Hillesum (1914–1943), believing her to be a voice of inspiration for our times. Shortly before her departure for internment at the Westerbork transit camp, Hillesum wrote in her journal:

One thing is becoming increasingly clear to me: that You cannot help us, that we must help You to help ourselves. And that is all we can manage these days and also all that really matters: that we safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves. And perhaps in others as well. Alas, there doesn’t seem to be much You Yourself can do about our circumstances, about our lives. Neither do I hold You responsible. You cannot help us, but we must help You and defend Your dwelling place inside us to the last. [1]

Etty Hillesum fully accepted the “cruciform nature of reality” and chose to love ever more consciously:

Something has crystallised. I have looked our destruction, our miserable end which has already begun in so many small ways in our daily life, straight in the eye and accepted it into my life, and my love of life has not been diminished. I am not bitter or rebellious, or in any way discouraged. I continue to grow from day to day, even with the likelihood of destruction staring me in the face. I shall no longer flirt with words, for words merely evoke misunderstandings: I have come to terms with life.…

By “coming to terms with life” I mean: the reality of death has become a definite part of my life; my life has, so to speak, been extended by death, by my looking death in the eye and accepting it, by accepting destruction as part of life and no longer wasting my energies on fear of death or the refusal to acknowledge its inevitability. It sounds paradoxical: by excluding death from our life we cannot live a full life, and by admitting death into our life we enlarge and enrich [life]. [2]

Reflecting on Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:34 not to worry about tomorrow, Hillesum writes: 

We have to fight them daily … those many small worries about the morrow, for they sap our energies.… The things that have to be done must be done, and for the rest we must not allow ourselves to become infested with thousands of petty fears and worries, so many motions of no confidence in God.… Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it towards others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world. [3]

A Quote from St Basil

“This is how you pray continually – not by offering prayers in words, but by joining yourself to God through your whole way of life, so that your life becomes one continuous and uninterrupted prayer.”

– St. Basil the Great, Early Church Father

To pray without ceasing is no easy task.  And, if you only understand prayer as a verbal activity then it can seem even more difficult.  Fortunately, prayer is the way one lives their life in a healthy, holy, and integrated way.  I am still quite fragmented and compartmentalized, and I am working on that, but it is nonetheless refreshing to see that since the very early days of the Church, they had a more gracious and expanded sense of what it means to pray!

Carlo Carretto (1910–1988) was a member of the Little Brothers of Jesus, a community of contemplatives who lived and worked among the poor in Northern Africa. Carretto reflects on the call that inspired him to give up his comfortable life in Italy: 

When I was forty-four years old, there occurred the most serious call of my life: the call to the contemplative life. I experienced it deeply—in the depth which only faith can provide and where darkness is absolute—where human strength can no longer help.

This time I had to say “yes” without understanding a thing. “Leave everything and come with me into the desert. It is not your acts and deeds that I want; I want your prayer, your love.”…

“Come with me into the desert.” There is something much greater than human action: prayer; and it has a power much stronger than human words: love.

And I went into the desert. [1]

Passing through a desert village on his way to a time of solitude, Carretto met a man named Kada who needed a blanket. Although he had two, Carretto did not share. The next night, Carretto dreamed that he was pinned under a boulder and unable to move, a terrible feeling he described as “purgatory.”

“You will be judged according to your ability to love” this place [in the Sahara] reminds me insistently. And my eyes, burnt by the sun, gaze up into the cloudless sky.

I don’t want to deceive myself any more; indeed I am not able to. The truth is that I did not give my blanket to Kada, for fear of the cold night. And that means that I love my own skin more than my brother’s, while God’s commandment tells me: “Love the life of others as you love your own.”…

God does not hurry over things; time is [God’s], not mine. And I, little creature, a man, have been called to be transformed into God by sharing [God’s] life. And what transforms me is the charity which [God] pours into my heart.

Love transforms me slowly into God.

But sin is still there, resisting this transformation, knowing how to, and actually saying “no” to love.…

To have resisted love, not to have been capable of accepting the demand of this love which said to me, “Give the blanket to your brother,” is so serious that it creates an obstacle between me and God and this is my purgatory. 

What’s the use of saying the Divine Office well, of sharing the Eucharist, if one is not impelled by love?

What’s the use of giving up everything and coming here to the desert and the heat, if only to resist love?…

“You will be judged according to your ability to love,” says the great stone under which I spent my purgatory waiting for perfect love to grow within myself, that which Jesus brought to earth for me….

May that day not be far off. [2]

Humility – a poem

by David Tensen | 16 Sep, 2023 | All, Poetry | 0 comments

Perhaps humility feels like this:
to shut my mouth,
quiet my critique,
and make space for sappling and seed
only time away from tallness.

To leave generous gaps
in the canopy of wisdom.
To recall that I too
remain dependent
on the elements and shelter
of neighbours and strangers.

To live with a fragile knowing
that the unavoidable truth is
we all fall and breakdown
only to become a bed
for both friend and foe
to dig their own roots into,
just as we have done.

HUMILITY
David Tensen

A Blessing for the Heart Journey

by David Tensen | 21 Feb, 2019 | All, Poetry, recommended links | 4 comments

[Preface]. This poem is the opening and close piece in the 2020 collection of poems called The Wrestle. Available here

Today, fellow fallers,
recoverers, rescuers,
winners, losers,
famous and infamous,
I bless you.

The runners and the lame,
the bankrupt and billionaires,
the saints and sinners,
lost and the lonely,
I bless you.

I bless you with knowing
that the journey of a thousand steps
will be paved by
potholes,
sinkholes,
assholes,
and whatever
it takes to make
you whole.
Because you are human.

I bless you today
with knowing
that the invitation
to face the world
with an unveiled face
may be done at your pace,
or never at all.
Because it’s an invitation.

But know this
that by love and choice
Trinity’s unmasked face
Shines upon you
and is gracious to you.
Trinity lifts up their faces towards you
and offers you peace.
Because you belong.

A BLESSING FOR THE HEART JOURNEY
~ David Tensen
Feb ’19

Featured in picture. The weekend I met Wm Paul Young. Author of The Shack, who went on to play a pivotal role in publishing The Wrestle poetry collection

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 
—Romans 8:38–39

This week we focus on people who call us to act out of loving union with God for the sake of others. Father Richard considers union with God as something that has already taken place, whether we experience it or not: 

We are already in union with God! There is an absolute, eternal union between God and the soul of everything. At the deepest level, we are “hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3) and “the whole creation … is being brought into the same glorious freedom as the children of God” (Romans 8:21). The problem is Western religion has not taught us this. For most Christians that I’ve worked with as a priest, God is still separate and “out there.” Most people are still trying to secure God’s approval. Our ego over-emphasizes our individuality and separateness from God and others. We limited God’s redemption to the human species—and not very many individuals within that species! [1]

Daily contemplative prayer helps us rediscover our inherent union and learn how to abide in Presence, trusting that we are already good and safe in God. We don’t have to worry about our little private, separate, insecure self. Jesus taught, I am one with you and you are one with your neighbor and we are all one with God. That’s the gospel! That’s the whole point of Communion or Eucharist; we partake of the bread and wine until they convince us that we are in communion. It seems easier for God to convince bread and wine of their identity than to convince us.

Believe it or not, we’re not here to save our souls. That’s already been done once and for all—in Christ, through Christ, with Christ, and as Christ (see Ephesians 1:3–14). By God’s love, mercy, and grace, we are already the Body of Christ: the one universal body that has existed since the beginning of time. You and I are here for just a few decades, dancing on the stage of life, perhaps taking our autonomous selves far too seriously. That little and clearly imperfect self just cannot believe it could be a child of God. I hope the gospel frees us to live inside of a life that is larger than the one our small selves have imagined. The larger life of the Body of Christ cannot be taken from us. It is the very life of God which cannot be destroyed. [2]

As Thomas Merton wrote in his journal, “We are already one. But we imagine that we are not. And what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.” [3]

God’s Hand in Mine

I never know today what’s going to happen to me tonight, but I do know as I walk alone, I walk with my hand in God’s hand.
—Fannie Lou Hamer, Freedom Vote Rally, 1963

CAC teacher Barbara Holmes describes the prophetic witness of Civil Rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer (1917–1977): 

I have chosen [Fannie Lou Hamer] as a contemplative exemplar because of her spiritual focus and resolve. Her practices spoke to the depth of her contemplative spirit. In the face of catastrophic suffering, Hamer worked, loved, sang, and resisted the powers that be. She was jailed, beaten, and hunted by the enforcers of the social order after registering to vote….

Hamer was centered; she drew power from the example of her parents in their struggle to transcend the impossible situation of their lives. She faced daunting odds, as she was not dealing with an abusive individual but instead the power of federal, state, and local governments and cultural traditions that deemed her to be a nonperson. This designation of non-personhood did not deter her, for her contemplative entry into a deeper “knowing” came through her commitment to nonviolence. Adherence to the spiritual disciplines of civil rights activism required that she love the crucifier, bless the torturer, embrace the jailer, and pray for his or her salvation. She did this and more. [1]

Hamer often grounded her words in Scripture and in her faith that God and God’s justice was with her. 

It’s poison; it’s poison for us not to speak what we know is right. As Christ said from the seventeenth chapter of Acts and the twenty-sixth verse, says: “Has made of one blood all nations, for to dwell on the face of the earth.” Then it’s no different, we just have different colors.

And, brother, you can believe this or not: I been sick of this system as long as I can remember…. I been as hungry—it’s a funny thing since I started working for Christ—it’s kind of like in the twenty-third of Psalms when he says, “Thou prepareth a table before me in the presence of my enemies. Thou anointed my head with oil and my cup runneth over.”

And I have walked through the shadows of death because it was on the tenth of September in ’62 when they shot sixteen times in a house and it wasn’t a foot over the bed where my head was. But that night I wasn’t there—don’t you see what God can do? Quit running around trying to dodge death because this book said, “He that seeketh to save his life, he’s going to lose it anyhow!” [Luke 9:24] …

All we got to do—that’s why I love the song “This Little Light of Mine”—from the fifth chapter of Matthew. He said, “A city that’s set on a hill cannot be hid.” And I don’t mind my light shining; I don’t hide that I’m fighting for freedom because Christ died to set us free. [2]

(From John Chaffee’s Friday Five.)

Father Richard finds a hopeful vision for the cosmos in the teachings of
13th-century Franciscan theologian Bonaventure.

The lovely symmetry of St. Bonaventure’s theology can be summarized in what Bonaventure himself named as the three great truths that hold everything together for him:

Emanation: We come forth from God bearing the divine image, and thus our inherent identity is grounded in the life of God from the beginning (Genesis 1:26–27).

Exemplarism: Everything, the entire chain of being, and everything in creation is an example and illustration of the one God mystery in space and time (Romans 1:20). No exceptions.  

Consummation: All returns to the Source from which it came (John 14:3). The Omega is the same as the Alpha and this is God’s supreme and final victory.

What a positive and safe world this describes! In Bonaventure’s teachings we have a coherent and grounded meaning the post-modern world no longer enjoys—and yet longs for. Note this is clearly not the later reward/punishment frame that almost totally took over when people did not experience God, but only believed propositions. Most people today are not sure where we came from, who we are, and where we’re going, and many do not even seem to care about the questions.

What if we could recover a view of the world and God that was infused with Bonaventure’s teaching? It would provide a foundation lacking in our often aimless and adrift age. It could hold our lives together during times of despair and cynicism. Is it possible for us to regain such a positive worldview again? Our later limited notion of individual salvation works much better if it is all held together inside of a primary cosmic salvation; the part then replicates the whole. Right now, it feels like we’re all on our own. There is no whole to be a part of!

Bonaventure described the great chain of being both in a historical and linear way—but also in terms of cosmic connectedness along the way. He was following Paul: “In [Christ’s] body lives the fullness of divinity, and in him you will find your own fulfillment,” or “There is only Christ: He is everything and he is in everything” (Colossians 2:9–10, 3:11).

We were created in unity, proceed forward insofar as we are in unity, and return to God’s full gift of final unity, according to Bonaventure. It is grace before, during, and after.

For Bonaventure creation is quite simply the mirror and image of God, and he uses metaphors like footprint, fingerprint, effigy, likeness (vestigia Dei) to make his point. This unitive vision is similar to that of Jesuit priest and scientist Teilhard de Chardin. These two teachers first gave me the confidence to believe and teach that “everything belongs.” Both describe and defend the universal belonging of all creation, and show us that such a cosmic divine victory makes the fear-based preoccupations of later exclusionary and punitive Christianity seem so small and unnecessary.

_________________________________________

The Sacred Hoop

At the CAC’s CONSPIRE 2021 conference, Pat McCabe (Weyakpa Najin Win, Woman Stands Shining) of the Diné nation described the medicine wheel as a symbol of the interconnectedness and responsibility of all beings:

In the Lakota spiritual way and teaching, I was presented with something called … the medicine wheel…. It’s a circle and it marks north to south and east to west in the center of it…. There are lots of different ways to look at that. It points to the cardinal directions; and we say that different medicines, different animals, and different spiritual entities lie in each of those four directions. Depending on which Indigenous people you talk to, they’ll name different ones, and it’s all true…. We can also talk about this hoop [or wheel] being divided into four as the four different parts of walking through your life as a human being: as a child, as a young adult, as someone who can bring forth family, and then in your elder years.

Another way that I look at it is that every single living life form has been given a seat on this sacred hoop of life … and that includes us … the five-fingered ones. We also have a seat on that sacred hoop. Every single member has a methodology for upholding its part of the sacred hoop. Every single member must uphold their part of the sacred hoop, or the integrity of the hoop begins to fail. That’s what I believe we’re witnessing right now.

Who is not upholding their part of the sacred hoop? Well, I think it’s us. Looking at it from this vantage point, the thing about this sacred hoop is that it’s really speaking to a very deep level of interrelatedness. I love Thich Nhat Hanh’s word…. interbeing. We’re interbeing and that’s exactly what this hoop is describing.

From this perspective, every member counts and every member has to be given the opportunity to uphold its part of the hoop. Every member has been given a perfect design to do that. The question is, is every member being given what they need in order to enact their perfect design for thriving life, so that they can contribute to keeping the integrity of that hoop intact?

I’m going to say “no.” When we dam rivers, we begin to prevent certain life forms from being able to enact their perfect design for thriving life…. If the salmon can’t live their way, then the whole ecology begins to unravel where they are. There’s this incredible film that shows what happens because wolves were being kept out of Yellowstone National Park here in North America…. [The film] shows what happens when they reintroduce wolves into that habitat, where they had always been. The whole ecology changes [and balances again]…. Every being has to be allowed to enact its perfect design for thriving life or the whole thing begins to unravel.

The following is from John Chaffee who sends out five thoughts on Fridays.

God Is Being Itself

Richard Rohr teaches that all of creation is connected and interdependent, each facet bearing inherent dignity as part of the being of God. Richard explains what we can learn from the medieval idea known as the “great chain of being”:

The great chain of being was the medieval metaphor for ecology before we spoke of ecosystems. While it was structured as a hierarchy, with each link in the chain “closer” to God, I view it as a philosophical and theological attempt to speak of the interconnectedness of all things on the level of pure “Being.” Today we might call it “the circle of life.” If God is Being Itself (Deus est Ens), as both St. Bonaventure and St. Thomas Aquinas taught in the thirteenth century, then the great chain became a way of teaching and preserving the inherent dignity of all things that participate in that Divine Being in various ways. For me, it speaks of the inherent sacrality, interconnectedness, and communality of creation.

These are the links in the great chain of being:

Link 1:  The firmament/Earth/minerals within the Earth
Link 2:  The waters upon the Earth (snow, ice, water, steam, mist)
Link 3:  The plants, trees, flowers, and foods that grow upon the Earth
Link 4:  The animals on the Earth, in the skies, and in the seas
Link 5:  The human species, capable of reflecting on the other links
Link 6:  The heavenly realm/Communion of Saints/angels and spirits
Link 7:  God/the Divine Realm/the Mystery that creates a universe as such, which needs a Center, Source, and Ground for any coherence.

Such a graphic metaphor held all things together in an enchanted universe. If we could not see the sacred in nature and creatures, we soon could not see it at all. [1]

As the medieval theologians predicted, once the chain was broken and one link not honored, the whole vision collapsed. Either we acknowledge that God is in all things, or we have lost the basis for seeing God in anything. Once the choice is ours and not God’s, it is merely a world of private preferences and prejudices. The “cosmic egg” is shattered.

Bonaventure (c. 1217–1274), who is called the second founder of the Franciscan Order, took Francis’ intuitive genius and spelled it out into an entire philosophy. “The magnitude of things … clearly manifests the immensity of the power, wisdom and goodness of the triune God, who by his power, presence and essence exists uncircumscribed in all things.” [2] Bonaventure expanded on Alan of Lille’s philosophical idea of God as one “whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.” God is “within all things but not enclosed; outside all things, but not excluded; above all things, but not aloof; below all things, but not debased.” [3] Therefore the origin, magnitude, multitude, beauty, fullness, activity, and order of all created things are the very “footprints” and “fingerprints” (vestigia) of God. [4]

Building on a First Love

Father Richard understands the teachings of Bonaventure as a call to love all creation.

St. Bonaventure taught that to work up to loving God, start by loving the very humblest and simplest things, and then move up from there. “Let us place our first step in the ascent at the bottom, presenting to ourselves the whole material world as a mirror, through which we may pass over to God, who is the Supreme Craftsman,” he wrote. And further, “The Creator’s supreme power, wisdom and benevolence shine forth in created things.” [1]

We can apply this spiritual insight quite literally. Don’t start by trying to love God, or even people; love elements and rocks first, move to trees, then animals, and then humans. Angels will soon seem like a real possibility, and God is then just a short leap away. It works. In fact, it might be the only way to love, because how we do anything is how we do everything. In the end, either we love everything or there is reason to doubt that we love anything. This one love and one loveliness was described by many medieval theologians as the “great chain of being.”

Creation—be it planets, plants, or pandas—was not just a warm-up act for the human story or the Bible. The natural world is its own good and sufficient story, if we can only learn to see it with humility and love. That takes contemplative practice, stopping our busy and superficial minds long enough to see the beauty, allow the truth, and protect the inherent goodness of what is—whether it profits or pleases us or not.

Every gift of food and water, every act of simple kindness, every ray of sunshine, every mammal caring for her young, all of it emerged from this original and intrinsically good creation. Humans were meant to know and enjoy this ever-present reality—a reality we too often fail to praise or, maybe worse, ignore and take for granted. As described in Genesis, the creation unfolds over six days, implying a developmental understanding of growth. Only the seventh day has no motion to it. The divine pattern is set: Doing must be balanced out by not-doing, in the Jewish tradition called the “Sabbath Rest.” All contemplation reflects a seventh-day choice and experience, relying on grace instead of effort.

All the other sentient beings also do their little things, take their places in the cycle of life and death, mirroring the eternal self-emptying and eternal infilling of God, and somehow trusting it all. If we can recognize that we belong to such a rhythm and ecosystem, and intentionally rejoice in it, we can begin to find our place in the universe. We will begin to see, as did the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning, that “Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God.” [2]

Here’s the poem: djr

Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God,

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.

Second-half-of-life people soulfully create room to honor the needs of the first. Father Richard writes:

If we are on course at all, our world grows much larger in the second half of life. But I must say that, in yet another paradox, our circle of real confidants and truly close friends will normally grow smaller, but also more intimate. We are no longer surprised or angered when most people—and even most institutions—are doing first-half-of-life tasks. In fact, that is what most groups and institutions, and young people, are programmed to do! We shouldn’t hate them for it.

Institutions must by necessity be concerned with membership requirements, policies, procedures, protocols, and precedents. If they are working organizations, they need to have very clear criteria for hiring and firing, for supervision and management, and have rules for promotion and salaries. It’s necessary that they do these things well, but they are nevertheless ego needs and not soul needs.

The bottom line of the gospel is that most of us have to hit some kind of bottom before we even start the real spiritual journey. Up to that point, it is mostly religion. At the bottom, there is little time or interest in being totally practical, efficient, or revenue generating. We just want to breathe fresh air. The true gospel is always fresh air and spacious breathing room.

The ego and most institutions demand a tit-for-tat universe, while the soul swims in a sea of abundance, grace, and freedom, which cannot always be organized. Remember the gospel: at the end of the day, the employer pays those who worked part of a day just as much as those who worked the whole day (Matthew 20:1–16). This does not compute except at the level of soul. Soulful people temper our tantrums by their calm, lessen our urgency by their peace, exhibit a world of options and alternatives when conversation turns into dualistic bickering.

Soulful people are the necessary salt, yeast, and light needed to grow groups up (see Matthew 5:13–16, 13:33). Jesus does not demand that we be the whole meal, the full loaf, or the illuminated city itself, but we are to be the quiet undertow and overglow that makes all of these happen. This is why all institutions need second-half-of-life people in their ranks; just “two or three” in each organization are enough to keep them from total self-interest.

Our question now becomes, “How can I honor the legitimate needs of the first half of life, while creating space, vision, time, and grace for the second?” The holding of this tension is the very shape of wisdom. Only hermits and some retired people can almost totally forget the first and devote themselves totally to the second, but even they must eat, drink, and find housing and clothing! The art of being human is in uniting fruitful activity with a contemplative stance—not one or the other, but always both at the same time.

_____________________________________________

Proverbs 2:1-11

The Benefits of Wisdom

2 My child,^[a] listen to what I say,
    and treasure my commands.
² Tune your ears to wisdom,
    and concentrate on understanding.
³ Cry out for insight,
    and ask for understanding.
⁴ Search for them as you would for silver;
    seek them like hidden treasures.
⁵ Then you will understand what it means to fear the Lord,
    and you will gain knowledge of God.
⁶ For the Lord grants wisdom!
    From his mouth come knowledge and understanding.
⁷ He grants a treasure of common sense to the honest.
    He is a shield to those who walk with integrity.
⁸ He guards the paths of the just
    and protects those who are faithful to him.

⁹ Then you will understand what is right, just, and fair,
    and you will find the right way to go.
¹⁰ For wisdom will enter your heart,
    and knowledge will fill you with joy.
¹¹ Wise choices will watch over you.
    Understanding will keep you safe.

Discernment is the ability to make sound judgments by perceiving what is not readily obvious, and it is critical to our life in God. For example, what should you do when you want to follow the Lord but have multiple choices that appear promising and good? How can you know if you’re hearing from God or simply listening to your own desires?

All we have to do is ask. Proverbs 2 says, “If you cry out for insight, and raise your voice for understanding … then you will understand the fear of the Lord, and discover the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge and understanding” (vv. 3-6). Those verses are a clear promise from God that when we ask for insight, He will answer.

Though discernment doesn’t appear overnight, it does develop when we “search for her as for hidden treasures” (v. 4). So don’t wait until you’re facing a critical decision—start asking the Lord for His wisdom today. We need time to practice this kind of humility so we’ll learn to hear His voice among the noises of life. And in the meantime, rest assured that no matter what decision you make, God will be with you.

Michelle Scheidt observes that for some queer and other LGBTQIA+ people [1] the process of discovering their sexuality and identity invites them to “fall upward”:

The shift to the second [half of life] is usually catalyzed by a life event or series of experiences that touch us at the core, unsettling us and forcing us to reorder and make meaning in a new way. These destabilizing events might bring deep pain or intense joy…. Negotiating this and reordering can shift us into the second half of life, a shift which is about our inner work, not our chronological age. 

For queer people, this process [of “falling upward”] can be catalyzed by the discovery of our sexuality or gender identity and subsequent learning to navigate the world with that identity. This discovery, at whatever age, is often destabilizing, even traumatizing, as we learn to embody an identity that transgresses the boundaries of socially accepted norms. We discover that the dominant social rules do not work for us because we have a radically different experience of family or gender or love. [2]

Pastor and NYFD chaplain Ann Kansfield describes trying to “fit in” when she was young, until she chose to live more authentically:

As a kid, I didn’t fit in well at school. I was awkward. I was gender messy, even as early as the third grade. So, as you might expect, I was bullied mercilessly. I tried to be authentic, but … being authentic was always the wrong answer. My classmates wanted conformity, … yet, even at the age when peer pressure reigned supreme, I couldn’t do it. I was different in so many wild and wonderful ways. For one, I liked church….

I tried so hard to fit in with the others, but I was decidedly not cool. No amount of trendy makeup or fashionable dresses could hide the fact that femininity eluded me. Hiding myself meant playing a small game, and it wasn’t a fun game. As a result, I wasn’t a party to be around. My lack of authenticity kept people at arm’s length. It’s only when I began to embrace who I really was—the honest, fraught, vulnerable, and deeply human person—that I began truly experiencing life. As I practiced sharing my authentic self with others, I noticed people sharing more of themselves with me. If I shared my real self, others would share their real selves with me. And in this process, life around me became … well … more alive…. [3]

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Sarah Young

Jesus Calling: November 16th

Learn to appreciate difficult days. Be stimulated by the challenges you encounter along your way. As you journey through rough terrain with Me, gain confidence from your knowledge that together we can handle anything. This knowledge is comprised of three parts: your relationship with Me, promises in the Bible and past experiences of coping successfully during hard times.
     Look back on your life, and see how I have helped you through difficult days. If you are tempted to think, “Yes, but that was then, and this is now,” remember who I AM! Although you and your circumstances may change dramatically, I remain the same throughout time and eternity. This is the basis of your confidence. In My Presence you live and move and have your being.

RELATED SCRIPTURE:

Isaiah 41:10 NLT
10 Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

Additional insight regarding Isaiah 41:10: All believers are God’s chosen people, and all share the responsibility of representing Him to the world. One day God will bring all his faithful people together. We need not fear because (1) God is with us (“I am with you”); (2) God has established a relationship with us (“I am your God”); and (3) God gives us assurance of his strength, help, and victory over sin and death. Are you aware of all the ways God has helped you?

Psalm 102:27 (NLT)
27 But you are always the same;
    you will live forever.

A Deeper Lightness

Richard Rohr describes how people in the second half of life have an inner freedom that simultaneously holds joy and suffering.

There is a gravitas in the second half of life, but it is held up by a much deeper lightness or ‘‘okayness.’’ Our mature years are characterized by a kind of bright sadness and a sober happiness, if that makes any sense. I am just grabbing for words to describe many wonderful older people I have met. There is still suffering in the second half of life—in fact maybe even more. But there is now a changed capacity to hold it creatively and with less anxiety.

It is what John of the Cross called ‘‘luminous darkness,’’ and it explains the simultaneous existence of deep suffering and intense joy in the saints and mystics—something that is almost impossible for most of us to imagine. Eastern Orthodoxy believed that if something was authentic religious art, it would always have a bright sadness to it. I think I am saying the same of an authentic life.

(He mentioned authentic religious art and this was on my clip board … so here it is. See what you see in this contemporary Ukrainian icon, and we’ll talk about it)

In the second half of life, one has less and less need or interest in eliminating the negative or fearful, making again those old rash judgments, holding on to old hurts, or feeling any need to punish other people. Our superiority complexes have gradually departed in all directions. We learn to positively ignore and withdraw our energy from evil or stupid things rather than fight them directly. We fight things only when we are directly called and equipped to do so. We all become a well-disguised mirror image of anything that we fight too long or too directly. That which we oppose determines the energy and frames the questions after a while, and we lose our inner freedom.

Daily life now requires prayer and discernment more than knee-jerk responses toward either end of the political and cultural spectrum. We have a spectrum of responses now, and they are not all predictable. Law is still necessary, of course, but it is not our guiding star, or even close. It has been wrong and cruel too many times. The Eight Beatitudes speak to us much more than the Ten Commandments.

When we are young, we define ourselves by differentiating ourselves from others; now we look for the things we all share in common. We find happiness in alikeness, which has become much more obvious to us now; and we do not need to dwell on the differences between people or exaggerate the problems. Creating dramas has become boring.

In the second half of life, it is good just to be a part of the general dance. We do not have to stand out, make defining moves, or be better than anyone else on the dance floor. Life is more participatory than assertive, and there is no need for strong or further self-definition.