Would you find it helpful?

I have two questions for you. 

So far I've written some short posts that are essentially a prompt for a spiritual practice you might try.  I've also written slightly longer pieces that are reflections of some issue related to spirituality. 

Do you find one or the more helpful to you?

I'm also wondering about the medium of communication.  Not everyone accesses information most readily through the written word.  I made an animated video a while back to explain the process of using the prayer beads I describe in my book Simply Pray: a modern spiritual practice to deepen your life.  Several years ago I made a series of short videos addressing questions related to spirituality and, of course, today podcasts are all the rage.

Would you find one of these other media (that are not dependent on the written word) helpful?

 I'd love to hear what you think!  My goal for this site is to make it meaningful whether or not you decide to invite me to join your spiritual journey as a spiritual director.

Pax tecum,

RevWik

Of Cages & Keys

Imagine a drawing done in pastel chalk, very impressionistic, showing a person sitting on a bench inside a jail cell.  The cell door is open, and there are shackles lying on the floor that are also open.  The person is free to leave, yet is still there -- as effectively imprisoned as if the door was barred and the chains were on. I drew that picture several years ago.  It was during one of the 9-day residencies that were part of the Shalem Institute's 2-year Spiritual Guidance program.  We'd been given a sheet that had several passages of scripture on it, and were asked to read through them all, slowly, and then to read through them again until one seemed to be calling out to us.  Then we were to read that passage over and over, slowly, and see where it took us. I found myself drawn to Isaiah 453: 1-3:

But now thus says the Lord,    he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel:  Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;    I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

As I read these words I found myself being drawn closer and closer to one sentence:  "Do not fear, for I have redeemed you."  Eventually it was just the last four words that became a mantra for me, "I have redeemed you."

The image that came to my mind along with those words is the one I described above.  A person -- me, actually -- sitting in a cell, believing myself to be imprisoned, completely oblivious that I have already been "redeemed," that I've already been set free.  Like the narrator of the U2 song, "Love Rescue Me" the truth of my situation is that, "No man is my enemy; my own hands imprison me."  I just didn't realize it.

I don't think I'm alone in this, either.  It's actually extremely common for us humans to be held back by, essentially, ourselves -- our self-judgement, our internalized condemnations, our expectations of not being enough.  Even when we are told repeatedly that we're free to go out and live our lives fully and richly, authentically being our true selves, we so often stay in our cells because we believe that that's where we belong.  Or, at least, because that's where we think we're stuck and we don't see any way out.  Yet the spiritual teachings of all of the great religious traditions I know anything about is that the way *out* of our experience of imprisonment is to recognize that we've always been free.

In the movie The Greatest Showman there is a song called "The Other Side."  Hugh Jackson's "P.T. Barnum" is trying to convince Zac Ephron's character "Phillip Carlyle" to join him, subsidizing Barnum's show.  The metaphor of cages & keys runs throughout the song. Barnum tells Carlyle that the later can break free of the life of drudgery in which he's trapped.  Barnum sees Carlyle as imprisoned by his conventional lifestyle, and offers him a key to freedom.

"[Y]ou can do like you do, or you can do like me, stay in the cage, or you'll finally take the key.  Oh damn!  Suddenly you're free to fly ..."

For his part, though, Carlyle doesn't see himself (or, at least, doesn't want to see himself) as trapped, arguing that he "quite enjoys" the life Barnum sees as a cage.  He doesn't want what Barnum's selling because he doesn't think he needs it.

"[Y]ou go and do like you do, I'm good to do like me.  Ain't in a cage so I don't need to take the key.  Oh damn!  Can't you see I'm doing fine ..."

Whether or not you've seen the movie you can probably guess that the two do end up striking a deal because they come to realize that each has something to offer to the other, each is something that the other needs.  In doing so, they find a third way to use the cage & key metaphor. "So if you do like you do, and if you do like me, forget the cage 'cause we know how to make the key." Good news, isn't it?  That cell you feel you're imprisoned in?  The door's already opened, the shackles are lying open on the floor, the ransom been payed, and the deep reality is that you're not really imprisoned at all.  If we listen to the wisdom of that "voice of quiet stillness" within, we'll realize that they cage is no danger to us, because our spirit knows how to make the key.

 Pax tecum,

 RevWik

Where is God IN This?

Jacob Wrestling the Angel, 1876
by Léon-Joseph-Florentin Bonnat

Sometimes we find ourselves in a very challenging place -- a place where fear, pain, and despair grow like weeds.  It is natural to want to find a way to "the other side" of whatever problem(s) we're dealing with.  We want to "heal" as quickly as possible.  We want to find our way out of the darkness, or return to cool shade after being too-long in the harsh light.

It's not always a good idea, though.  We can skip too quickly from pain to relief, from struggle to succor.  Douglas John Hall has written, 

“It is the propensity of religion to avoid, precisely, suffering:  to have light without darkness, vision without trust and risk, hope without an ongoing dialog with despair—in short, Easter without Good Friday.”  

To continue using the Christian metaphor -- between Good Friday and Easter morning there's a day in which Jesus's body is in the tomb, and his companions were scattered and afraid.  On that day no one yet knew (at least not for sure) that there would be a resurrection.  More than a few, and maybe even most, must have believed that Jesus's death on the cross was it.  The end.

In the Hebrew scriptures there is a story told about Jacob and how he wrestled one night with an angel by the Jabbock River.  All night the two struggled.  As dawn approached, the angle begged Jacob to let them go, but Jacob refused, saying, "I will not let you go until you bless me."

If we move too quickly from the first snowflake to the first crocus, bypassing the cold hard winter; from the cross to the resurrection, jumping over the time in the tomb; from our problem to its resolution, without spending enough time in the problem; we can lose out on whatever blessing our struggle might contain.

This is not as simple, or simplistic, as the idea that "every cloud has a silver lining."  That phrase is often used to dismiss the real pain, or confusion, or fear we're feeling.  Don't worry; be happy.  Nor is it quite the idea that "everything happens for a reason."  It's more like saying, "because things happen, we have the chance to learn something."

A spiritual director may well ask you, "Where is God in the midst of this problem?  What is its blessing?"  They aren't encouraging you to ignore your current struggle, thinking instead of better things to come.  Instead, we're encouraging you to embrace it.

Pax tecum,

RevWik