antler

Sure, social media gets a bad rap for all sorts of reasons, but if it weren't for facebook I would not have met Dave Harrity, director of a blog called antler.  Immediately after "liking" antler, he asked me to write a piece for the blog.  I've since started to work on antler's social media team, helping to promote the incredible vision of bringing together creativity, imagination and faith.  Take some time to check out antler's mission statement and check out my recent post here:

http://thisisantler.com/2012/10/messy-as-hell/

Engaging spirituality

A few weeks ago I made the last minute decision to attend a retreat called "Engaging Spirituality."  It's a spin-off from Just Faith, which is a 30-week program that challenges people of faith to reflect on their obligation to help bring about greater justice in the world, especially for the most poor and vulnerable.  I was so fortunate that the facilitator was Joe Grant, the person who actually developed this program.  He  had such a calm, peaceful demeanor and spoke with the most wonderful Scottish lilt. The retreat was aimed at deepening awareness of the intersection between prayer and Gospel justice and gaining exposure to wisdom from spiritual writers, such as Madeleine Delbrel (who is a new favorite of mine!), Oscar Romero, Catherine de Hueck Doherty, Mohandas Gandi and many others.  In the course of the two day retreat, stories and personal reflections were sprinkled throughout his presentation.  There was so much that we covered that I could spend several weeks unpacking all that was discussed, but I'll simply summarize some of the main highlights that struck me most.  What follows below is a summation of the notes I took, and although many of the words are verbatim, this brief summary will fail to do justice to the actual experience of the retreat.  

1. Spirituality is not dualism. Too often we think of ourselves as divided persons.  We think that prayer is something that happens at a certain time when we are of a certain frame of mind.  We tell ourselves that we will work at becoming more spiritual persons when life slows down and we have time to meditate.  Of course, life doesn't ever just slow down of its own volition (unless you're stopped in your tracks by some tragedy).  Rather, spirituality requires an intentional integration of your doing with your being.  Prayer is a way of doing everything and isn't above life's mundane activities--whether you're going to the bathroom, washing dishes, getting dressed or undressed, starting your car or turning on your computer.   Prayer should be the pulse, the refrain of your day.

2. Spirituality is eminently practical.  One of the spiritual practices Joe suggested that we try was something marvelously simple.  He said that each morning when you wake, the first moment you put your feet on the floor you should sit with your hands open, palms facing up on your lap and thank God for resurrecting your body another morning.  At the end of the day, the last thing you should do is sit at the edge of your bed and thank God for everything that happened that day--and not just the things you liked or enjoyed--but everything, even the really sad or frustrating parts.  Another spiritual practice he mentioned is an ancient custom called benevolent glancing.  That is, blessing each person you see when looking them in the eye, because "there is Christ in everyone...even if sometimes you have to squint to see him" (Flannery O'Conner).  

3. Doing vs. Being In our culture, those who don't "do" are marginalized persons.  Think about it.  Children, elderly, handicapped, or unemployed.  All are essentially voiceless in our culture, because we valorize the "do-ers" of the world who produce or "earn their keep".   It's important to remember that it's okay to simply "be".  You don't have to be anyone but yourself, a child of the earth.  There are no accolades that you need to receive or people you need to impress.  Only be a child of God.

4.  Love and letting go.  "The problem with letting the world in is that it breaks your hear and there's no way to fix it."  Those words struck a chord within me.  When you open yourself up to the world, you open your heart up to be stretched and broken.  Love so often hurts because love is a process of letting go.  A mother letting go her daughter, a cancer patient letting go of his hair, a child letting go of a childhood attachment.  But the pain of letting go leads us into a deeper embracing of life.  That includes letting go of God, the god we've whittled and carved into our own image.  There is also consolation in knowing that if your heart is not breaking, you are not fully awake.  The world is filled with both pain and love.

5. Cynicism and self-righteousness  These attitudes are two sides of the same coin.  There is the temptation to turn from one to the other.  There can be the temptation to turn the Church or our cause into our god and once you've done that, there's only one antidote.  Darkness, lamenting, groaning, and finally a catharsis that allows us to be joyful as children, throwing off our heavy burdens.

6.  Reconciliation.   Lament leads us to desire reconciliation with others and with God.  And in order to love you have to relinquish the need to be right.

7.  Spirituality.  What is spirituality?  It is a remembering of who you are, a remembering of who we are as a people of God.   We so quickly forget, and we need reminders.  Even simple reminders like the sound of a bell calls us to remember our call to worship God.   A good litmus test of spirituality is this: how does it bring good news to the poor? Also, any spiritualities that don't deal with the realities of brokenness aren't worth their salt.

8.  Gratitude and blessings.  If you don't know how blessed you are, how can you bless others?  Gratitude is the best antidote to cynicism and it comes from a wonderment.  It comes from an unwavering belief in abundance over scarcity(think loaves and fishes).  We must always presume providence, proclaim peace, practice sabbath, radiate joy, seek beauty and imagine possibility.      

The religious potential of children

I adapted the following article, which is one I wrote for the parish where I work as a children's coordinator.  It's about recognizing a child's "religious potential," and pondering faith through the eyes of little ones.  
    

Children are naturally filled with wonder and curiosity about some of life’s biggest mysteries:  Where did the world come from? Who is God? Is God the man in the moon? Does God see everything I do…even when I brush my teeth? What is heaven like? Where is my soul?

Too often we dismiss a child’s inner need and longing to reflect deeply on God.  In fact, in many ways, we’ve convinced ourselves that they’re too young or simply not interested!  We cite the following laundry list as evidence:

·     They don’t sit still during Mass;

·     They get bored easily; 

·     They’re too young to read the Bible;

·     They’re too young to grasp prayer;

·     They have a short attention span, etc.

While some of the above may be true, it is even more certain that children have an innate interest and love for the mysteries of God.  We see it in their eyes when, with awe and curiosity, they ask questions about the Divine.  Sofia Cavalletti, an author and Catholic educator who was inspired by the faith life of children, coined the phrase “religious potential of the child” to describe the capacity that children possess for growing in their love for God. She recognized that children all over the world of various ages, socio-economic backgrounds, and cultures have at least one common desire: to know God.

As a parent, grandparent, godparent, educator, or anyone who is entrusted with the care of nurturing a child’s religious potential, you have the great privilege of tending to that little spark within your child so that it can grow into a flame rather than smolder.  Cavalletti suggested the following as advice: "If we want to help the child draw nearer to God, we should with patience and courage . . . seek to go always closer to the vital nucleus of things. This requires study and prayer. The child himself will be our teacher if we know how to observe him."

6 Ways to Help Nurture Your Child’s Spiritual Life

1.     Break bread as a family.  If you don’t already have the custom of sitting down to eat as a family at least one night a week, choose a day and begin.  Have your child help cook the meal and lead grace.  Look for recipe ideas, prayers, and dinner conversation starters at: www.gracebeforemeals.com

2.     Reflect on God’s Word with your child. Choose a kid-friendly Bible and prepare your child (and yourself!) for Mass by reading the upcoming Sunday’s Gospel.  Ask your child what they liked about the reading or what was confusing.  Let the conversation spark prayer.  (Find the Mass lectionary at: www.usccb.org)

3.     Celebrate feast days.  Children love a good party! (And who doesn’t?)  The Church calendar provides us with many opportunities to celebrate the lives of holy people and favorite saints.  Have your child choose a feast day and celebrate it by honoring that saint’s life.  For example, St. Vincent de Paul (Sept. 27) devoted his life to the poor. After reading about his life, have your child help collect cans or clothes to deliver to those in need.  (See a list of saints’ feast days by visiting www.americancatholic.org.)

4.     Create a prayer corner at home.  Choose a special place in your child’s room and designate it as a place of prayer.  Have him/her place a Bible, crèche, colorful rosary beads, plants, holy cards or chimes in this little space to remind them to pray always!

5.     “Adopt” a child or family.   Introduce your child to the notion of caring for our brothers and sisters in Christ around the world who are in need by involving your child in sponsoring a child or family.  Have them help raise money, write letters, draw pictures and pray for the person you sponsor.

6.     Look for moments of sacred opportunity. In the hectic bustle of our daily routines, it’s easy to forget to give our gratitude to God.  In moments of “down time,” like in the car on the way home from school, ask your child to list the things they enjoyed about the day.  This exercise in gratitude can help your child to pause and ponder God, even amidst a busy schedule and the noise of the day.

Embracing poverty

Dorothy Day, the famed Catholic social activist who embraced a lifestyle of voluntary poverty (and who is one of my role models), said: “We need always to be thinking and writing about poverty, for if we are not among its victims its reality fades from us. We must talk about poverty, because people insulated by their own comfort lose sight of it.”  I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to what it means to embrace poverty.  What is poverty, and what does it look like?  Is it the image of unkempt street people standing in a line at a soup kitchen?  Or perhaps a hungry, malnourished child yearning for a crust of bread? Or the muddy squalor of tents pitched as shelter in the midst of a cholera outbreak in the aftermath of an earthquake? 

What does poverty look like?

When it's these images of utter despair and destitution that come to mind, it is odd to think of poverty as a desirable attribute, as something to be embraced.  And to be sure, abject poverty that leaves one in desperate need of the most basic necessities--like health care, food or clean water-- should be absolutely abhorred.  Yet, the paradox of the Gospel is that it announces blessings on the poor.  One of the most fascinating motifs throughout the Gospels is the depiction of a kingdom—not where the rich and powerful rule—but an upside down kingdom where the last are first and the poor are blessed.   This is a stark contrast to our society, which treats poverty of any kind as if it is a contagious disease, something that needs to be sequestered, ridiculed, and feared.

Dorothy Day

The more I contemplate what poverty means for my own life, the more complex and slippery the notion becomes in my mind.  To what extent should one pursue poverty?  Just enough so as not to draw attention to oneself?  Enough so that you’re still living comfortably or enough that it’s a constant sacrifice? Does Gospel poverty entail foregoing all material possessions with the exception of those needed to survive?  If so, does that mean giving up technology or small luxuries likes movies, computers, and television? Or does it just mean giving up having the newer iPhone in favor of your older but still-functioning cell phone?  If poverty is a central Christian concern, then why are not all professed Christians concerned with it?

In his book Happy Are You Poor author Thomas Dubay raises these and other complex questions about poverty.  Questions that don’t have simplistic answers.  Is poverty only expected of a certain few, like religious persons, he asks?  If not, and poverty should truly be embraced by all, does poverty look different for a single person (like me) than it does for parents raising small children and different from that of a priest or religious sister or a retired couple?    The book doesn’t leave you with neat or pat answers, but it serves as an examination of conscience of sorts.  It’s an invitation to look more closely at the choices and decisions you make in your day to day life, because those decisions impact others’ quality of life—be it directly or indirectly. 

I think poverty in one’s life can look different at one life stage than it does at another, but the guiding concept throughout one’s life remains the same.  We should always be striving to give as the Giver does, selflessly and with love, emptying ourselves of our attachments to those things that obstruct our relationships with others and with God.  Ridding ourselves of greed and possessiveness.   Few of us are able to do this alone or all at once.  It is a process that is undertaken throughout one’s life, and we can do it with the support of others, a little at a time.  We can embrace poverty in small ways and watch as it transforms the ways we think and relate to the world and those around us.  

How do you embrace poverty?

To give glory to God

Thomas Merton, the American Trappist monk who was author of many books including Seeds of Contemplation, reflected: “If you write for God you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men--you may make some money and you may give someone a little joy and you may make a noise in the world, for a little while. If you write for yourself, you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted that you will wish that you were dead."  Apt words of wisdom for one writing a blog.  

For months I've deliberated over the question of whether I should start a blog.  And as I did so, some other words of caution came to mind that I had received when I first started studying graduate-level theology: "Do not let this become a solely narcissistic exercise," my classmates and I were warned at orientation.  I think the advice applies to writing as well, especially writing a blog, as there is the solipsistic temptation to announce to the world a stream of wearisome details about your life. 

But in my most recent experiences, blogging has been a medium of communication that has shown great promise for connecting people that might not have otherwise ever crossed paths.  I've witnessed the ways that it can be used for building community, consoling loneliness, generating conversation and forming relationships, both virtual and real life.   

My hope for this blog is that it will not be some narcissistic exercise--an attempt to write only for myself--but rather an opportunity to give glory to God. May Merton's words continue to be a reminder that will lend some focus and intentionality to the words that appear here in the days, weeks, and months ahead.