| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
This week in WAYfinding we begin discussing the Seven Deadly Sins. If your mind immediately went to the movie starring Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman; yes, those are the seven to which I'm referring, but no, images from our approach will not haunt you 20 years later. Bad call in letting me watch that movie, Mom and Dad; bad call.
Chilling flashbacks aside, I like the Seven Deadly Sins as our framework....
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
It was the summer of 2002. I was sitting dead center in a large, megachurch auditorium. I had been struggling with my concepts of God and church for some time; so, although the good student in me wanted to sit near the front, I moved back in an act of deviance. I was there because the visiting preacher, Rob Bell, intrigued me; and yet, somehow, I needed him and everyone to know I would not be mindlessly accepting what was said. The best I came up with was to pick a less "enthusiastic" seat.
I only remember one part of the sermon that day: an aside where Rob Bell spent maybe a minute talking about corporate sin. It was a minute, though, I'd never heard uttered in church. I had grown up attending Sunday school and youth groups, going on mission trips and volunteering, being confirmed for Christ's sake, literally; yet sin committed on a larger scale, by societies or the groups within them, had never been discussed. The concept resonated deeply; why was this the first I was hearing of it?
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
Why talk about sin? This is a legitimate question; especially when, for centuries, we've done it so poorly. We've liked our sins obvious and binary: the either-you-did-it-or-you-didn't kind of sins. We've especially liked it when the "it" we're referring to is the big It - you know, sex. We've spent an obscene amount of time on this one: Did she do it at the right time? That is, in marriage. Did he do it with the right person? That is, female. We've used sin to control, label, judge, hate, shame. And though we've generally used it as a weapon against others, turned inward, our approaches still cut and cage.
No wonder we don't want to talk about sin!
The problem is, however understandable our resistance, not talking about sin doesn't serve us. Theologian Barbara Brown Taylor often asks the question, "What is saving your life today?" That is, what is presently giving your life meaning, deep joy, wholeness? It's a powerful question; one that helps us identify good patterns, relationships, rituals, thoughts; and dive more deeply in. But, it's also only one side of the equation. We all also have things in our life that are corrosive to it; thoughts and patterns that erode our peace and wholeness - ours and others. That is, we all also sin. To ignore this piece is inauthentic, isolating, and ultimately undermines the wholeness we seek.
This is why, for the next ten weeks in this blog post and WAYfinding's spring round of groups, we're going to be exploring sin. Each week, our entry point will be a TED Talk that addresses one of the seven deadly sins in a thought-provoking way. The conversations that follow, and weekly questions we'll explore, will serve to give sin the complexity and nuance, seriousness, humor and grace it demands. Our lens will be both practical and theoretical, personal and corporate. Our intention will be, always, to experience and create the kind of freedom, joy, peace and wholeness we all desire - for ourselves and the world.
Sometimes we need to identify what is saving our life. And, sometimes we need to get real clear about what is killing it. I hope you'll join me through this blog and/or one of our WAYfinding groups in getting clear together.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
In the faith world, this is a week for powerful stories. Christians will tell and hear of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It will remind them hate never has the final word, and peace, wholeness, is possible. Jews will begin the Passover celebration. They'll recount the story of their ancestors' deliverance from slavery in Egypt, as well as ongoing struggles against tyranny - both external and internal. They'll hear the story and remember freedom need not be a mere dream.
These are big stories, meaningful. Stories that have been at the heart of Western cultures for centuries. They inspire us. Confuse us. Won't leave us alone - often, even when we're intentionally trying to leave them behind. They're a part of our histories, families, secular and sacred rituals, literature and movies. They are stories in which people all over the world have faith.
Yet, they are stories about which our beliefs differ. Outside the traditions, and within them, we hear these stories and interpret them differently, allow them different places of meaning in our lives. What are we to make of this? Are we to assume some of us have it "right" and others "wrong"? Namely, me, I have it right, and you, you have it wrong. Or, can we imagine a different way? Can we allow each other different versions of the s/Story, different meanings, as long as those meanings soak in love? As long as they move us to live deeper and love better than we did yesterday. Can we begin to define faithfulness this way?
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
It's been two months since I last alluded to depression in this blog, and five months before that I spoke about it for the first time. So, honestly, I was due - depression may stay away now for longer stretches but it's hell-bent on staying in touch. I hesitate admitting this. Doing so still delivers pricks of shame, though the needles have shrunk. I'm also not sure I'm ready to admit depression as a theme in my writing - too honest, too cliche. Of course, it makes sense: our lessons, our wisdom loves to lie in the shadow side of our personality.
This week was no different. As I pushed against depression's weight, I found myself wondering about hope versus useless desire. When do we name wanting to change a personality trait, a situation, a relationship, as one or the other? And, therefore, keep trying or begin to let go, accept?
The answer is rarely simple. It depends on a myriad of factors, uneasy answers to complicated questions: Which is kind? To who? Which is safe? Brave? Sane? Am I self-aware enough to know the difference? How long have I been trying? How long is too long? How set is she in her ways? How set am I? Is my hope enabling him? Is this institution, this dynamic, dysfunctional beyond repair? Perhaps only if I stay? Or, go? Maybe it's just not my fight? Which is loving? Which, if anything, will work?
I think these are good questions, however seldom we know the answers. I also think there may be a better one.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
In the Kurt Vonnegut version of the biblical Genesis story, man politely asks God, "What is the purpose of all of this?" God's response is perhaps less than satisfactory; essentially, God replies, "You decide." God's response is not the part of the story I find most interesting, though. It's man's question, or rather according to this story, man's first assumption: that there is one purpose and it applies to everything.
Now, I like this idea. I like believing, underneath all the micro purposes, there exists one - one purpose that if comprehensively integrated would bring not universal peace but much, much more of it. I don't know this to be true, of course. And, I don't know what it is. I simply - or most days, incredibly not simply - have faith in it.
What I do know to be true, though, is how necessary the presence, stories, ideas, questions of others has been on the journey to finding the one. Just when I think I've got it figured out, a new story shatters my confidence. Right when I feel solid in humanity's purpose, nature reminds me to think bigger, less anthropocentric. I know I've got a clear picture now until an unexpected question turns and blurs my lens just enough.
Is this frustrating? Sure. But, mostly, its grace. It's not up to me to determine the purpose of all of this. It's up to us. We need each other to find our purpose. Without a multitude of voices - strange and familiar - we become echoes who don't realize it. We settle into our perspective, and often, sometimes violently, force it on others.
This is one of the reasons we do what we do every week in WAYfinding. We create spaces where people with diverse ideas, beliefs, stories, gather to wonder aloud and honestly about "g/God" and how to live deeper and love better. Do we do this perfectly? No. Are we as diverse as we'd like to be? Absolutely not. But, it's our intention, our heart. Because we know we need each other. If there is a purpose to all of this; if "g/God," some sort of connective pulse to life exists, and we can know something about i/It; if we're going to live deeper and love better; we're not going to do so in silos, only hearing from voices like our own. We're going to do so together.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
Do this, and you will live. Jesus spoke these words in The Story of the Good Samaritan. It comes after the lawyer, "to test" him, asks, "Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" We are told upon Jesus' prompting, the lawyer offers an answer to his own question: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." Jesus tells him he has given the right answer, and then adds, "Do this, and you will live."
It's an ambiguous response. Given the context, we might assume Jesus meant the lawyer would have eternal life. And yet, in Jesus' final response - after he tells the Good Samaritan story - he says, "Go and do likewise," cutting offer any reference to life after death.
Is it possible Jesus, once again, hoped to shift perspectives? Just as a neighbor, through the story, becomes not who we serve but who we are, "life" is not some eternal destination, but here, now, today. We live not by multiplying our number of breaths but by multiplying, opening, this moment through love. Of course, we may want more literal breaths - especially for our loved ones - but it's not really the life in and of itself we want, it's the living.
It's the love. The love of this world's pulse; Jesus called it God, call it whatever you like: the music, spring air, her laughter, his warmth, that "Oh, my God" view, taste, smell, touch. This is the love we receive - as gift, grace, ordinary miracle. Living is also the love you give - increasingly, better, braver. It's being open to and moving into the spaces you are uniquely called to love - at home and along the roadside, for the sake of your friends and the bruised and beaten stranger, world.
It's up to you. No one will force your hand. But, do this, and you will not just have life, you will live.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
What a beautiful day in Indianapolis! Cold but sunny and snow-covered. Today reminds me I am always just one snowfall, one experience, away from seeing the world anew. What grace!
So, in lieu of my traditional blog post, I want to share with you a few exciting, upcoming experiences. Whether you've attended many WAYfinding events, or not a one, you are welcome! I hope you'll add your voice.
This Wednesday, March 4. Doors open 6:30p. Begins 7:00p.
Table Conversations With A... Millennial, Black Man
We all possess biases - good and bad. Hearing another person's story is one of the best ways to widen our perspectives. We love better when we draw near.
This is the idea behind WAYfinding's new speaker series, "Table Conversations." We're thrilled to welcome James C. Wilson as our first story-teller. Details below. RSVP here.
Thursday, March 19, 7:00p - 9:00p
Sample WAYfinding Night
Come experience what WAYfinding is all about by taking part in a sample group experience with other new people and current participants. The next round of groups starts mid-April. If you're curious about WAYfinding, but you've never been (or haven't been in awhile), this is a great way to check it out!
WAYfinding meets in homes, so our Sample Nights do too. March 19 is in SoBro. Email me with questions, interest, etc.
Saturday, April 4, 6:30p - 8:00p
Can We Talk Honestly About Jesus?
Whether we skip to church Easter morning or stay far away, many of us wonder about the man behind the holiday. Who was Jesus? And, for some, who is he still? Can we talk honestly?
This is WAYfinding's plan. Add your voice to this special Easter weekend learning and conversation. Email me with questions, interest, etc.
Einstein said, "Truth is what stands the test of experience." I'll add, "So, experience, experience, experience!" Likely, perhaps even hopefully, we'll still end up in different places. But, this time, our posture will have changed. Having let the experiences wash through our truths, we'll feel content, peaceful in what remains. No longer will we have to defend because no longer will our beliefs depend on the fierceness of our attachment to them.
May it be so. Let's make it so! Check out one of the above events and see what comes!
| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
Loving well. Some days it seems easy. My heart feels open, light, and the problems, straightforward enough. Other days loving well is crazy hard. My stories, my hurts and fears catch up with me, and I close up, pop my head into my shell and greet any softness encountered with rough, hard edges. And, that's just my stuff. Some days loving well is crazy hard because the problems are crazy, complicated messes.
Where are we to begin, when loving well is hard?
One of the best love stories I've heard was told by Jesus. We call it, "The Good Samaritan." For many of us, we know this text, or at least, think we know it. We’ve heard the gist of it: Go out. Be kind. Do good. Essentially, be a good Samaritan. The term, and thus the story, have been so watered down we've stopped noticing its provocative plot, its exceptional loving well wisdom, including how it says to begin.
In the story, a man from Jerusalem falls into "the hands of robbers" and is stripped, beaten and left half dead. Two other men, who see the bruised and beaten man on the roadside, "pass by on the other side." Then, a third man, a Samaritan, passes by and chooses differently: he decides to "come near." The Samaritan starts by drawing near. (Read the whole story here.)
This may seem simple, boring even. But, drawing near can be, often is, crazy hard. Cultural and ideological barriers, not to mention geography, time, energy, our personal wounds, keep us at arms length. And to love well, proximity is a must. We must draw close enough to see another's face, to hear her story, to feel his spirit.
This is the idea behind WAYfinding's new speaker series called "Table Conversations With A...." In it, we'll hear from individuals whose stories are in some way unfamiliar to our own. We'll listen, reflect and ask questions, practice empathy, and hopefully, walk away having been changed from drawing near.
This week I invite you to love by drawing near. I invite you to mark your calendars for "Table Conversations With A... Millennial, Black Man" on Wednesday, March 4 at Flat 12 Brewery (414 N. Dorman St.). Doors open, libations at 6:30p; story-telling at 7:00p. James C. Wilson will be our guest. James is a native of the Martindale Brightwood area on Indianapolis' east side. His was a childhood consumed with loss, drugs and violence, eventually landing him in prison. While there, mentors helped him change his outlook, and he began preparing for a new life once released. Today, James is a father, and President and CEO of Circle Up Indy, an organization helping youth - and whole communities - resist violence through mentorship, law enforcement dialogues, job training, peace festivals, and more! We are honored to have James as our first Table Conversations story-teller. Please RSVP here, or on Facebook.
If you cannot make it next week, consider how else you can draw near to another's story. Articles, books and documentaries are good places to start, but eventually, you'll need to take it "live." Maybe there's a similar event happening in your city? An organization with which you can become involved? A person to whom you can take a few extra minutes listening? Be brave, draw near, love well.
| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
I remember my Ethics professor in seminary saying, "The worst thing Mr. Rogers did for you kids is convince you of your specialness." Intentionally provocative, he also believed it. In an academic field that plays so often in absolutes and the consequences of conduct, catering to the individual can be a dangerous game.
I understand this perspective. Too often in our society, the world, we over emphasize the unique, special individual. This leads to myopic points of view. I fail to see - or choose to ignore - how my choices impact others, and consequently, others suffer. It also leads to some nauseatingly terrible commercials. Two words: perfumes, cars.
We can also under emphasize our specialness, though. Religions have certainly stumbled here. Whether extinguished in the non-dualism of eastern religions or contained in the rulebooks of western religions, the individual personality has often been denigrated.
Can there exist a happy middle ground? Can we be both special and One? I hope so. I think so. LEARN. LISTEN. LOVE.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
I spend a lot of my life thinking about time: I really need to go to bed. Is it time to wake-up already? Shoot, I'm not going to get my daughter on time! Do I have time to grab Starbucks? I need to take more time to prayer. I need more time to listen. Do you value my time? Am I demonstrating I value yours? I have to go! What time can you talk? What day can we get together? It's dinner time; it's time to pick up your toys; TV time is up; it's time for a bath; it's potty time; it's bed time!
I know you get it. Whatever our season of life, whatever our circumstances, time is elusive. We cannot catch it. We can only learn to ride it, to breath into it, to feel its current and float without drowning.
Easier said than done. Especially in a world where the setting of the sun and dial-up modems no longer delineate our time for us. So how can we?
I think ritual is a great place to start. Once exclusively associated with the expression of religious belief, more and more we're breaking rituals open, allowing them to help us set apart time and space whatever our beliefs. Anthropologist T.M. Luhrmann says, "Rituals change the way we pay attention." I, for one, need more of this. I need something to metaphorically slap me across the face, saying, "It's time now. Now, you must put the phone down, let go of your to-do list, and pay attention. It's time to practice being here, just here, miraculously here." LOVE. LEARN. LISTEN.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
I had been in seminary a year when I found myself in an hotel room, alone, and feeling incredibly sad. It was the start of vacation, no papers were due, nothing to distract. So, I had to listen, listen to a truth I'd been pushing down for months: my beliefs about God did not make sense to me anymore. There, I'd said it. And the truth kept rolling: maybe they had always not made sense to me. Maybe this is why I went to seminary.
It felt like a kind of death. The God I knew was no more. And, I was sad. Sad and worried: what would become of my faith? A grief, and its process, that I realized then had already begun months earlier, swept over me. I let myself cry.
I also remember, though, experiencing a kind of lightening of the air around me. I think now I'd call it hope. I hoped in that moment there would be another way to imagine God. I chose to continue trusting the spirit-filled reality I knew, even though I now no longer had words to explain it.
In the years that followed, words came. I was introduced to new images, metaphors, ideas, theologies. They made sense to me. I found God again without abandoning myself.
Interestingly, translating these new images into my daily, personal relationship with God was much harder. Intellectually things made sense but my ability to be present with God suffered. I could think and talk about God all day long, but ask me to practice the presence of God, to pray, and nothing. I would sit there like a novice trying desperately to repeat a necessary technique she'd only ever lucked into the first time.
The problem, of course, was my understanding of prayer hadn't yet caught up to my new ideas about God. What was prayer to look like now? How should I begin? Do I still say "Dear God"? Or, "Dear Sacred Spirit, Energy, the One Who is Both Us and Greater Than Us"? Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. How did prayer work now? Does God still intervene? Does prayer work at all?
These are the questions we'll be wondering about together in group this week. Consider adding your voice. If not, read on and LEARN : LISTEN : LOVE.
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
Pray without ceasing. That's what the Bible says. I used to interpret this as some sort of pious challenge reserved for monks, nuns and those kids who memorized Bible verses. (Okay, I was one of those kids, but only briefly, and secretly.) It was impractical. How many "now I lay me"s and "dear god"s can one say in a day and get anything else done?
Because, of course, that's what prayer was: talking to God. Talking to God with rules. Do be honest, but not if your issue is with God. It's strange to bow but perfectly normal to close your eyes and clasp your hands. Before making any requests, praise and give thanks. For a long while, despite all these rules, prayer as talking to God worked well for me; I loved sharing my heart.
Eventually, things changed. I got angry, and God was not exempt. I saw hundreds of people bow in unison and found it beautiful. My image of God changed, and with it, I found more peace and movement in silence than praise. I could not pray the way I once did, and honestly, I felt both relief and a deep ache.
Theologian Kent Ira Groff says prayer is "... to practice the presence, to go to God by any means, by any means to let God come to you." Reading this definition was like a welcomed fissure in a dam. The new waters knock me down occasionally but before, my spirit was parched.
Pray without ceasing. I realize now it wasn't a challenge. It was permission. Permission to practice the presence and by any means; because, this is the only way we could possibly do it without ceasing.
Of course, this still isn't easy. For me, it's a way of being that feels very far away some days. But, I hope in it, and I practice. I walk and breathe. I fall and get up. I meditate. I’m here. I open myself up to new ways of practicing, of prayer. I listen. Oh, and I talk. I still talk to God.
| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
I'm sitting here listening to my husband try to teach our daughter how to calm down through breathing. The source of her exasperation: bread. She loves it and usually has to wait for it to toast and get smeared with peanut butter. This lapse in time often proves too much, and she begins to meltdown. Of course, her response is disproportionate - as her parents, at least one of our jobs is to make sure, as an adult, she doesn't erupt in tears at the bagel shop; but, I do relate to her passion, even admire it a little.
This struggle echoes in my spiritual journey: I want peace, wholeness, the "undistracted state" as Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön calls it, but I also fear this state will tamper my passion. I love bread too... er, I mean life and justice. Can we be both passionate about life and "zen"? It's confusing because both eastern and western spiritual philosophies have taught life itself is the distraction. But, isn't life also the joy? Isn't it the people and environments, the food and good fights that offer us meaning, that offer purpose?
This is where I love when Pema Chödrön, in the below video, talks about being wide-awake. Yes, life can distract; this is undeniable. But, detoxing from these distractions doesn't mean the end of joy, passion, purpose. Instead, the undistracted state means we're wide-awake to experience life more deeply, to taste more acutely, to fight fairer, to love better. It's life #nofilter.
LEARN, LISTEN, LOVE...
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
Confession: It's been a tough week. Of course, I know full well, relatively speaking, it hasn't really been that tough; my family has the necessities: food, water, heat, Frozen on DVD. But, regardless, I've been stumbling this week, trying and failing to push beyond circumstances and the wonky way my mind sometimes works.
I believe these weeks find me occasionally for a purpose: they bring me to my knees, remind me life is not about control but surrender... in the best possible way. My heart feels small so I must break it open with a prayer of "help." I stop managing it all well enough, long enough to see grace again... to really need grace again.
Beginnings can look like this. They often do. And, not just in early January. All year long we find ourselves slid back into old patterns, thoughts, distractions that then propel us to choose, once again, to begin again.
For me, this is one of the main reasons I crave deep, thoughtful, spiritual community. It often gives me more grace than I give myself, while at the same time, holds me accountable to the kind of life I want to lead. It's kind faces with whom I share my story, and wise perspectives I never would have heard on my own. It's the space to practice, to begin something new or for the umpteenth time. It's time set apart to c/Connect.
This is what WAYfinding is for me and for many of you. I am so glad, and I look forward to kicking off another round of groups - of blessed discussions, experiences, sharing - this week! You'll find our topics schedule below or here.
We're welcoming many new faces this round, and there is always more room at the table. If you're curious, please consider signing-up or checking-out a group this week - or in the weeks to come. You may email me or fill out this form. Groups this round meet:
Tuesday evenings, 7:00p - 9:00p
Wednesday evenings, 7:00p - 9:00p
Wednesday evenings, 7:00p - 9:00p (Mom's Group)
Thursday lunches, 12:00p - 1:15p
Groups are hosted in rotating homes, but generally, they'll be held in the SoBro area.
| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
In lieu of my usual blog post, this week I offer you my sermon from WAYfinding's Community Christmas Service. I hope it sparks your imagination, helping you imagine a more peaceful, joy-filled and compassionate life and world.
I also wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, as I'll be taking a two-week hiatus from posting.
Out of what's stirring in you, imagine... What is the thing you most need to imagine for yourself this Christmas and beyond? And, what is the thing you think the world most needs you to imagine on it's behalf? Write down your imaginings. Share them with s/Someone. Pray for guidance and the courage to begin the hard work of making your imaginings realities.
| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
It's that time of year again! The season in general may claim to be the "most wonderful," but here at WAYfinding, we're also joyfully anticipating the start of our winter round of WAYgroups. They kick off the week of January 11! This 10-week round we'll wonder together what the spiritual - heck, life - journey is all about, consider the many faces of prayer, practice opening our hearts to unfamiliar stories, and more!
If you're interested, or curious to learn more, please fill out this interest form. Please do so by one week from today, Monday, December 15. This gives me time to organize groups and get yours on your calendar before January.
Thank you! I hope you'll add your voice this winter!
| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
We all want a more joyful Christmas. This doesn't mean it comes easy. The season carries with it a hefty dose of "have-tos," "shoulds," and "we've always done it this way." Some of this is unavoidable and thus acceptance is the sanest response. Much of it, though, is a choice. We can choose to celebrate the season in ways that bring real joy.
Why don't we, then? Experience has shown me two big stumbling blocks. First, tradition. Traditions can be lovely. I imagine all of us participate in cherished traditions each year. They also can be stifling - metaphorical elephants on the chest rather than practices that open our heart. The trick is knowing the difference. You'd think this would be obvious, but it's not. Lousy traditions successfully hide, even from ourselves, all the time. The reason why is the second stumbling block: we don't take the time to listen for what really brings us joy. Thus, culture, habit, guilt, fear, decide for us, and we find ourselves simply repeating last year.
This need not be the case. A different way is possible. We simply need to give ourselves the space to listen for what brings us and others real joy, and the gradual permission to let the rest go.
We'll be doing just this at two upcoming Sample WAYfinding Nights: this Wednesday, December 3, and next, December 10, both 7:00p - 9:00p. It's a great opportunity to experience what WAYfinding is all about and meet folks currently involved. I hope you can join us for this laid-back, meaningful Christmas discussion. If you're interested, have questions, contact me (anne@wayfindinglife.org).
LEARN, LISTEN, LOVE...
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
Our culture increasingly skips Thanksgiving. I was in Target Monday, and it was Christmas, Christmas everywhere. Christmas on the shelves, Christmas hanging from the ceiling. When checking out, I noticed a singular "Happy Thanksgiving" sign above the cash registers. It looked depressingly out-of-place. I miss Thanksgiving. And, if the increased societal grumbling over the Halloween to Christmas leap is any indication, I'm not alone.
I think our mutual longing springs from the fact that, intuitively, we know we need Thanksgiving. Before the frenzy and the stuff, we need a day (or a couple) to sit and be grateful. To reflect on what we have already. To be present to the moment and the faces sitting around the table. Even when it's hard - when relationships are messy, precious faces present last year are missing, or we're struggling with life in general - gratefulness is still important. It's important because it reminds us of the good that already is and the good we hope will be.
Many teachers, spiritual leaders, parents, psychologists promote gratefulness. Perhaps no time during the year is their wise counsel more important than now. Every direction we look in the coming weeks, we'll see one consistent message: what we have is not enough. This is the shadow side of Christmas, among all the loveliness. And, it is lovely. I am a fan of Christmas. I simply think gratefulness, beginning with Thanksgiving, and then as a perpetual spiritual practice throughout the season, provides a necessary balance. Gratefulness reminds us of what really matters, and in so doing, shapes how we spend our time, our money, our energy; that is, gratefulness, if we let it, shapes Christmas. LISTEN, LEARN, LOVE...
Read More| ANNE WILLIAMSON |
I plan to practice Taizé for Advent. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you're not alone. Both are "churchy" words, not part of most folks' everyday lexicon. Even for people who recognize these words, they may not be able to explain them.
We frequently run into the "churchy" or spiritual word problem at WAYfinding. Anytime you bring together individuals with different beliefs and backgrounds, words can be barriers. Heck, words can be barriers for siblings raised in the same home, worshipping at the same synagogue. Spirit, God, reconciliation, calling, justice, Universe, soul, light, darkness, blessing, Jesus, consciousness, grace, love, and on and on, these words elicit different emotional responses, mean different things to different people. Real comprehension of what another person is saying is not easy. Sometimes we don't know what we're saying ourselves.
So, what do we do? Is the answer to all slowly acquire the same lexicon with the same meaning ascribed to each word? Maybe. This certainly can make community easier. Personally, though, I hope this isn't our solution. It would mean the eventual subjugation of all diversity to one dominant perspective - impossible, uninteresting, dangerous and an incorrect representation of "g/God." Personally, I hope we can be more creative than this. I hope we can learn to be more okay with ambiguity, mystery, freedom.
Once again, then, my plan: I am going to practice Taizé (an ecumenical monastic community in France, but for my purposes, the contemplative prayer services they use and are offered throughout Indianapolis each Sunday) for Advent (the four Sundays and accompanying weeks before Christmas when Christians lean into the Spirit as they wait for the incarnation of God). That is, in the weeks leading up to Christmas, I'm going to do something meaningful to me, something that reminds me to listen and be love, amidst the craziness of the season. That's all. I may say "Taizé for Advent," but what I really mean is "or something like it."
This is all the LISTENing, LEARNing and LOVEing I'm offering this week, so I'll close by asking, "What practice would remind you to listen and be love this holiday season?" Be still and open to what may come. Your answer may require breaking with tradition or living more fully into one. It will definitely require your intention; hence, why I'm asking you now. The season will be here soon. Let's lean into the Spirit, love, whatever you call it, together.
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