Have you ever gone on a God Hunt? A God Hunt begins when you teach yourself to look for God’s hand at work in the everyday occurrences of your life. Here’s one of my personal God Hunt Sightings:
Cathie Clark is a friend who helps out in the Global Bag Project room and stretches her income, like we are all doing, by pinching pennies and surveying the sales at resale shops. But I don’t know anyone who has the spiritual gift of helps more than Cathie does.
So every so often, when David and I need a ride to the airport, we’ll give Cathie a call and if she can help, she cheerily provides rides to and pickups from O’Hare or Midway.
I am the type of person who hates to take this willingness of people for granted, so I am reluctant to overdo my requests. Yet there are times when we don’t want to take the money to hire a limo, or when none of our adult children can fit in another airport trip, when David has a conflict on his calendar or when our one family car is going in another direction than east toward the city.
I had to ask Cathie to pick me up early one Wednesday morning and then be ready to come past for me the next Saturday as I flew in from California arriving at O’Hare at midnight. This was a little hard for me to do, although Cathie never gives me the feeling that she is reluctant to provide this service. And David and I always try to cover her gas expenses.
As we were driving to O’Hare she actually said to me, “I love these airport rides.” Why in the world?, I wondered. “Oh it gives me an uninterrupted hour to chat with you,” she said.
Some of the best gifts in the world are really, really small, almost unnoticeable. Cathie is right. Instead of feeling hesitant about asking for a favor, I should be thinking, I will get to spend an uninterrupted hour with this friend. What a great gift!
Sometimes when people ask me to do certain things for them that I love to do, it affirms the gifts God has given to me to share. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are given to the body to be used for the body.
Next time I ask Cathie for a favor to drive me to the airport, I’ll try to think: This will give me an uninterrupted hour with this friend. Certainly this is one of God’s gifts to us all—time for friendship.
I spy God!
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Listening With Your Fingertips
Have you ever gone on a God Hunt? A God Hunt begins when you teach yourself to look for God’s hand at work in the everyday occurrences of your life. Here’s one of my personal God Hunt Sightings:
After participated in some 250 listening groups, most of which I have facilitated, I am absolutely convinced that it is time to write a book about the profound experience this has been in my life (and in the lives of the many who have also participated in the small-group process). However, I simply could not get the project started.
I have plenty to say, have a bibliography, have conducted interviews with many of the participants, have written white papers to send to those who are also intrigued by either learning more or starting listening groups, but I simply have not been able to capture that intriguing approach that draws the reader into the first chapter and through the pages, chapter by chapter, until the last words draw conclude so satisfactorily that the reader closes the book and puts it aside with a sigh, wishing there was just a little more.
I’ve had friends chide me that I’m not writing any books and publishing them—but I tell you—until those first sentences come as a gift, something wonderful that you the writer yourself would like to read—it’s a little like pushing a shovel into dry clay. The creative earth is just not ready no matter how many attempts you make to force the steel into the compacted cement-like soil.
Last week I took a handful of paperback books with me to read on the airplane and in the airports in the literal hours that it takes to travel from Illinois to California, then back again. One book by Brother David Steindl-Rast, A Listening Heart: The Spirituality of Sacred Sensuousness, had just bogged me down. I’d loved other works by this Catholic writer, but somehow, just did not get into the reading groove with this one. Perhaps that was because Steindl-Rast is a monk and makes a point of addressing the rational for the monastic experience to other monks in this book.
But determined not to leave half-read books lying around, I took it along with me as I traveled and found (surprisingly) that I was loving what I was reading. This must fit into some sort of principle: Give every dull book a second chance. It may not be the book’s fault. Listen to this:
“Once our heart is anchored in silence, we will be able to listen even while we are speaking. … Silence will make us hear appeals which noise drowns out: the sighs of devastated forests, the groans of lab monkeys with wired skulls, the sobs of mothers with babies at their emaciated breasts. We will begin to hear the truth that sets us free. As long as one creature in this world is oppressed and exploited, oppressor and victim alike lack freedom. Yet, ‘None so deaf as one who will not listen,’ as the proverb says.”
Somewhere in my re-reading of this book, I noted down the phrase listen with your fingertips, indicating a total absorption in the process of hearing something or someone, in which the whole body leans forward in rapt attention in order to fully hear.
Several mornings I realized that could be a wonderful title for a book on listening: I tried it out, Listen With Your Fingertips. It would also make a great opening paragraph and a first chapter.
And so in this way, from what seems like nowhere, the gift is given, “Some people feel like we listen with our ears; others insist that we listen even with our fingertips.” In a week, after months of struggle to begin a book, my creative self is aimed and pointed. I am ready to go.
But that is the point of Steindl-Rast’s writing: All the world around us is gift-given. It is we who must learn to listen.
It is we who must learn to see. “Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look…!” declares Gerard Manley Hopkins breathlessly in his poem The Starlit Night.
It is we who must make a practice of being alive in the world. “Most people’s glorious gates of perception creak on rusty hinges. How much of the splendor of life is wasted on us because we plod along half-blind, half-deaf, with all our senses throttled, and numbed by habituation. How much joy is lost on us. How many surprises we miss. It is as if Easter eggs had been hidden under every bush and we were too lazy to look for them.”
It is we who must hear the whisper of the title in our hearts and realize that at last, it is time to start.
I spy God!
After participated in some 250 listening groups, most of which I have facilitated, I am absolutely convinced that it is time to write a book about the profound experience this has been in my life (and in the lives of the many who have also participated in the small-group process). However, I simply could not get the project started.
I have plenty to say, have a bibliography, have conducted interviews with many of the participants, have written white papers to send to those who are also intrigued by either learning more or starting listening groups, but I simply have not been able to capture that intriguing approach that draws the reader into the first chapter and through the pages, chapter by chapter, until the last words draw conclude so satisfactorily that the reader closes the book and puts it aside with a sigh, wishing there was just a little more.
I’ve had friends chide me that I’m not writing any books and publishing them—but I tell you—until those first sentences come as a gift, something wonderful that you the writer yourself would like to read—it’s a little like pushing a shovel into dry clay. The creative earth is just not ready no matter how many attempts you make to force the steel into the compacted cement-like soil.
Last week I took a handful of paperback books with me to read on the airplane and in the airports in the literal hours that it takes to travel from Illinois to California, then back again. One book by Brother David Steindl-Rast, A Listening Heart: The Spirituality of Sacred Sensuousness, had just bogged me down. I’d loved other works by this Catholic writer, but somehow, just did not get into the reading groove with this one. Perhaps that was because Steindl-Rast is a monk and makes a point of addressing the rational for the monastic experience to other monks in this book.
But determined not to leave half-read books lying around, I took it along with me as I traveled and found (surprisingly) that I was loving what I was reading. This must fit into some sort of principle: Give every dull book a second chance. It may not be the book’s fault. Listen to this:
“Once our heart is anchored in silence, we will be able to listen even while we are speaking. … Silence will make us hear appeals which noise drowns out: the sighs of devastated forests, the groans of lab monkeys with wired skulls, the sobs of mothers with babies at their emaciated breasts. We will begin to hear the truth that sets us free. As long as one creature in this world is oppressed and exploited, oppressor and victim alike lack freedom. Yet, ‘None so deaf as one who will not listen,’ as the proverb says.”
Somewhere in my re-reading of this book, I noted down the phrase listen with your fingertips, indicating a total absorption in the process of hearing something or someone, in which the whole body leans forward in rapt attention in order to fully hear.
Several mornings I realized that could be a wonderful title for a book on listening: I tried it out, Listen With Your Fingertips. It would also make a great opening paragraph and a first chapter.
And so in this way, from what seems like nowhere, the gift is given, “Some people feel like we listen with our ears; others insist that we listen even with our fingertips.” In a week, after months of struggle to begin a book, my creative self is aimed and pointed. I am ready to go.
But that is the point of Steindl-Rast’s writing: All the world around us is gift-given. It is we who must learn to listen.
It is we who must learn to see. “Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look…!” declares Gerard Manley Hopkins breathlessly in his poem The Starlit Night.
It is we who must make a practice of being alive in the world. “Most people’s glorious gates of perception creak on rusty hinges. How much of the splendor of life is wasted on us because we plod along half-blind, half-deaf, with all our senses throttled, and numbed by habituation. How much joy is lost on us. How many surprises we miss. It is as if Easter eggs had been hidden under every bush and we were too lazy to look for them.”
It is we who must hear the whisper of the title in our hearts and realize that at last, it is time to start.
I spy God!
Monday, March 26, 2012
The Dining Room Table Is Always Set (At Our House)
I got in the habit of setting our dining-room table so it was ready whenever company stops past. Whenever we eat at the table, we wash the dishes, and instead of storing them in a kitchen cupboard, we simply place them on the table. If David an I are eating alone, we sit at the far end, where I can look out on the yard and where drivers in passing cars can look through our un-curtained window and see the two of us (or the six to eight of us) sharing a meal together, breaking bread.
“Don’t your dishes get dusty sitting there?” someone asked me recently. I suppose I should consider the dust factor. “Not real dusty,” I answered my friend. We do turn the plates over frequently with guests coming and going. And if they get a little glazed on top, I take a damp rag to them and that takes care of the problem—much simpler than putting dishes into the cupboard, taking them out again and setting a table.
The table gets changed whenever we head into a new season. And just so I don’t have to construct a centerpiece cold as well as find the appropriate clothes, napkins and place settings, I have started to take photo shots with my new cell phone. (I don’t know how to access the Internet, but I know how to text my grandchildren and use my camera.)
This is important to me because I think the set table always says, “We are waiting for you. You are welcome here in our home at any time. You can never come and surprise us. All is at the readiness. Sit and commune and dine with us.”
Actually, these are the same invitations God repeats into the world, over and over and over again. I’m just doing what He does—setting the table—and saying what He says—come on in; be with Us.”
I spy God!
“Don’t your dishes get dusty sitting there?” someone asked me recently. I suppose I should consider the dust factor. “Not real dusty,” I answered my friend. We do turn the plates over frequently with guests coming and going. And if they get a little glazed on top, I take a damp rag to them and that takes care of the problem—much simpler than putting dishes into the cupboard, taking them out again and setting a table.
The table gets changed whenever we head into a new season. And just so I don’t have to construct a centerpiece cold as well as find the appropriate clothes, napkins and place settings, I have started to take photo shots with my new cell phone. (I don’t know how to access the Internet, but I know how to text my grandchildren and use my camera.)
This is important to me because I think the set table always says, “We are waiting for you. You are welcome here in our home at any time. You can never come and surprise us. All is at the readiness. Sit and commune and dine with us.”
Actually, these are the same invitations God repeats into the world, over and over and over again. I’m just doing what He does—setting the table—and saying what He says—come on in; be with Us.”
I spy God!
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Love
“Love is a circle that stretches from an ancient past into a modern present. It is our evidence of things unseen. It is the love of a husband for a wife, and of a mother for a child. It is the love of a friend for a friend, and of a mother-in-law for her daughter-in-law. It is the kindness of a stranger for a stranger, of a teacher for a student, of the warm enfolding embrace of a neighbor for a neighbor. It is the love of a teenager for a parent. Love is what we know in our best moments, holding an infant in our arms or watching in the dark hours as a relative recovers from a fever, or seeing our family gathered in the candlelight of a Christmas meal. This is what makes the world understand that there is a reason for the season and it isn’t reason. It is love. ”
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Proceed With Caution: Prayer Work Ahead
David and I have volunteered to organize the prayer time before each Sunday morning service. So far, for the most part, he and I have been the only ones praying. We belong to a small church, which meets in a local school gymnasium, and the people who have the time to come 45 minutes early are generally setting up sound equipment, organizing childcare, unfolding chairs, mounting the cloths on the communion table—well, you get the idea. We have lots of young couples in our church with small children and David and I well remember what it was like getting everyone ready on Sunday morning. (A lot of work!)
So, David and I have prayed together (in the teacher’s lounge) for months—mostly just the two of us. We are at the stage in life where this is no longer a boring task, and we also love to have time to pray together. We feel that this work is as crucial as everything that is mentioned above. We are also grateful when, from time to time, someone else joins us.
However, because we believe that the work of prayer is the work of the whole church, I began to organize a schedule in which types of prayer could be highlighted for 15 minutes each Sunday morning, then we would spend the next 20 minutes in intercession for the worship, the people, the children’s programs, our members, and the school and neighborhood in which we serve.
February 26: Who feels strongly about prayer stations during Eucharist? Would you like to be on prayer teams? Have you had a journey into healing prayer? Are you someone who finds yourself praying for the world and the people in it (you may have the gift of intercession.) Can we set up prayer teams? Let’s respond to last Sunday’s challenge to pray for miracles.
March 6: Who feels strongly about a burden, or a need, or a personal crisis? Let’s make a list of our prayer concerns, date them, and see if a praying community (two or three gathered together) has better results than people just praying alone? What have you learned about making requests of God? Of course, we will pray about these concerns.
March 11: What do you know about prayers of confession? Since Lent is a time for self-examination, repentance and confession, let’s make sure we are building this spiritual practice into our journey. So what do you know? What has happened when you have confessed and repented? What does Scripture teach us?
March 18: What do you know about journaling your prayers? There are probably as many different ways of prayer journaling as there are people. What has worked for you?
Bring a journal and share this with those of us who get started and stop, who want to begin but don’t know how.
Let’s gather together in the teacher’s lounge and delight in the many different ways different people keep a record of their daily (weekly? monthly? yearly?) prayers.
March 25: What kind of prayer reminders have you discovered help you to develop and keep the habit of prayer? Rubber bands on your wrist? Coins in the pocket? A daily prayer guide? If something is working for you, let the rest of us know.
Let’s gather together in the teacher’s lounge for a show-and-tell of practical helps.
April 1: Have you developed an attitude of gratitude? Studies show that grateful people are actually physically and emotionally more healthy than ungrateful people. So let’s go at this spiritual practice! Do any of you keep a gratitude journal? How has this worked and what has it done for you?
Let’s gather together in the teacher’s lounge for an initial plunge into healthy spiritual practice.
April 8: How do you define worship prayer? And how is this different from Thanksgiving? What helps you know when you are really worshipping? Is it just an emotional feeling or is it something all together different than that?
Help! Today is Easter—an ultimate day of worship on the church calendar—let’s make sure our hearts are ready for worship. What do you know about worship that the rest of us need to know?
April 15: Who among us has fasted spiritually and with success? How long have you fasted? What did you learn? What if someone has health problems? How can they fast?
This one is hard.
April 22: Who has had prayers answered? Let’s look at the prayer request list we have
been gathering and see what God has done for us as a people of faith over the last nine weeks.
One of the elders of the church joined us this Sunday, and we were glad to have her. Seeing the handwriting on the wall—that I was going to have to take the initiative—I began asking people who I believe have the gifts of discernment and compassion if they would join us on our prayer teams.
Last Sunday morning early after a busy, busy week, I finally pulled a small whiteboard, the wreath stand I use by the front door during seasonal changes and found a nearly dried-up marker and made a sign. Most of the 100 or so people who come on Sunday mornings don’t even know where the teacher’s lounge is. My sign read:
PROCEED WITH CAUTION!
PRAYER WORK AHEAD
Join us in the Teacher’s Lounge
9:45-10:20
I drew a primitive arrow, filled it in with the evaporating felt marker as much as I was able, that hopefully, this scratchy sign conveyed the teacher’s lounge was down the hall.
However, as we were driving to the school, I kept hearing that little word nudging me: If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. So I left the makeshift sign and the stand I had pulled out of the dirt by the front walk and washed hurriedly with a dish cloth. No, no, no—God’s work is always orderly, deliberate and planned. If it wasn’t ready because I wasn’t ready, then the timing for this announcement and this scheme wasn’t right either.
The sign is still in the back of my car—I’ll pull it out this morning—but it keeps greeting me with the warning: Proceed with caution! Proceed with caution!
Gentle reminder from God?—probably.
I’m paying attention.
I spy God!
So, David and I have prayed together (in the teacher’s lounge) for months—mostly just the two of us. We are at the stage in life where this is no longer a boring task, and we also love to have time to pray together. We feel that this work is as crucial as everything that is mentioned above. We are also grateful when, from time to time, someone else joins us.
However, because we believe that the work of prayer is the work of the whole church, I began to organize a schedule in which types of prayer could be highlighted for 15 minutes each Sunday morning, then we would spend the next 20 minutes in intercession for the worship, the people, the children’s programs, our members, and the school and neighborhood in which we serve.
February 26: Who feels strongly about prayer stations during Eucharist? Would you like to be on prayer teams? Have you had a journey into healing prayer? Are you someone who finds yourself praying for the world and the people in it (you may have the gift of intercession.) Can we set up prayer teams? Let’s respond to last Sunday’s challenge to pray for miracles.
March 6: Who feels strongly about a burden, or a need, or a personal crisis? Let’s make a list of our prayer concerns, date them, and see if a praying community (two or three gathered together) has better results than people just praying alone? What have you learned about making requests of God? Of course, we will pray about these concerns.
March 11: What do you know about prayers of confession? Since Lent is a time for self-examination, repentance and confession, let’s make sure we are building this spiritual practice into our journey. So what do you know? What has happened when you have confessed and repented? What does Scripture teach us?
March 18: What do you know about journaling your prayers? There are probably as many different ways of prayer journaling as there are people. What has worked for you?
Bring a journal and share this with those of us who get started and stop, who want to begin but don’t know how.
Let’s gather together in the teacher’s lounge and delight in the many different ways different people keep a record of their daily (weekly? monthly? yearly?) prayers.
March 25: What kind of prayer reminders have you discovered help you to develop and keep the habit of prayer? Rubber bands on your wrist? Coins in the pocket? A daily prayer guide? If something is working for you, let the rest of us know.
Let’s gather together in the teacher’s lounge for a show-and-tell of practical helps.
April 1: Have you developed an attitude of gratitude? Studies show that grateful people are actually physically and emotionally more healthy than ungrateful people. So let’s go at this spiritual practice! Do any of you keep a gratitude journal? How has this worked and what has it done for you?
Let’s gather together in the teacher’s lounge for an initial plunge into healthy spiritual practice.
April 8: How do you define worship prayer? And how is this different from Thanksgiving? What helps you know when you are really worshipping? Is it just an emotional feeling or is it something all together different than that?
Help! Today is Easter—an ultimate day of worship on the church calendar—let’s make sure our hearts are ready for worship. What do you know about worship that the rest of us need to know?
April 15: Who among us has fasted spiritually and with success? How long have you fasted? What did you learn? What if someone has health problems? How can they fast?
This one is hard.
April 22: Who has had prayers answered? Let’s look at the prayer request list we have
been gathering and see what God has done for us as a people of faith over the last nine weeks.
One of the elders of the church joined us this Sunday, and we were glad to have her. Seeing the handwriting on the wall—that I was going to have to take the initiative—I began asking people who I believe have the gifts of discernment and compassion if they would join us on our prayer teams.
Last Sunday morning early after a busy, busy week, I finally pulled a small whiteboard, the wreath stand I use by the front door during seasonal changes and found a nearly dried-up marker and made a sign. Most of the 100 or so people who come on Sunday mornings don’t even know where the teacher’s lounge is. My sign read:
PROCEED WITH CAUTION!
PRAYER WORK AHEAD
Join us in the Teacher’s Lounge
9:45-10:20
I drew a primitive arrow, filled it in with the evaporating felt marker as much as I was able, that hopefully, this scratchy sign conveyed the teacher’s lounge was down the hall.
However, as we were driving to the school, I kept hearing that little word nudging me: If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. So I left the makeshift sign and the stand I had pulled out of the dirt by the front walk and washed hurriedly with a dish cloth. No, no, no—God’s work is always orderly, deliberate and planned. If it wasn’t ready because I wasn’t ready, then the timing for this announcement and this scheme wasn’t right either.
The sign is still in the back of my car—I’ll pull it out this morning—but it keeps greeting me with the warning: Proceed with caution! Proceed with caution!
Gentle reminder from God?—probably.
I’m paying attention.
I spy God!
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Book of Common Prayer: Litany of Penitence
Have you ever gone on a God Hunt? A God Hunt begins when you teach yourself to look for God’s hand at work in the everyday occurrences of your life. Here’s one of my personal God Hunt Sightings:
During this season of Lent, the time of the church calendar when Christians prepare their hearts and souls for Easter, I have been personalizing the errors mentioned in the Litany of Penitence, which liturgical congregations pray on Ash Wednesday. I’ve been impressed that I have not been considering my soul as I ought, and this formal prayer of repentance was a good place to begin.
So last week, I took the first confession and began to work with it. “We confess to You, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the price, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.”
This is what I wrote in an extended time of self-examination early one morning (about 3:30 a.m.) when the house and the phone and the world outside are silent.
I confess to You my past unfaithfulness…
• Watching too much mindless television; comes from fatigue; when I sleep only five hours per night, I collapse in the afternoon and try to stay awake until 9:00, but these are wasted hours, which I fill with movies or television, captured by my physical ennui.
• Not working to keep my body strong, which sometimes helps me sleep and eliminates sleep deprivation. With good sleep I can go strong all day, and keep functioning in the evening. I know this, but don’t work on it.
• Not working @what it is You have put in my mind to do; writing, painting, design projects, etc.
I confess to You my past unfaithfulness…
• Not working out areas of spiritual obedience
- better and more regular Bible study
- Sabbath Eve. practice
- reading daily offices of prayer with David
For all these things (unfaithfulness; lack of obedience) I am truly sorry and do most humbly repent. Strength, please, to carry out my desires before You and to carry out Your desires for me.
This is work, isn’t it, and I am only on the first sin of unfaithfulness, then there are sub-sins (the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.) Oh, dear.
Today during the Eucharistic service, a young woman stood beside the cross that is at the back of the school gym where we meet to worship. “Can I pray with you?” I asked. “Oh, yes,” she answered. “How can I pray?”
“Pray for my many areas of unfaithfulness.” Well, I certainly knew what that was about. So we prayed.
I suspect that one of the reasons so many of us have a hard time discovering the work of God in our lives is that we have not done the work of self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting and self-denial. When we do that work, God is there, standing beside a young woman hugging the Cross in the back of the elementary-school gym where a certain people gather to worship.
I spy God!
During this season of Lent, the time of the church calendar when Christians prepare their hearts and souls for Easter, I have been personalizing the errors mentioned in the Litany of Penitence, which liturgical congregations pray on Ash Wednesday. I’ve been impressed that I have not been considering my soul as I ought, and this formal prayer of repentance was a good place to begin.
So last week, I took the first confession and began to work with it. “We confess to You, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the price, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.”
This is what I wrote in an extended time of self-examination early one morning (about 3:30 a.m.) when the house and the phone and the world outside are silent.
I confess to You my past unfaithfulness…
• Watching too much mindless television; comes from fatigue; when I sleep only five hours per night, I collapse in the afternoon and try to stay awake until 9:00, but these are wasted hours, which I fill with movies or television, captured by my physical ennui.
• Not working to keep my body strong, which sometimes helps me sleep and eliminates sleep deprivation. With good sleep I can go strong all day, and keep functioning in the evening. I know this, but don’t work on it.
• Not working @what it is You have put in my mind to do; writing, painting, design projects, etc.
I confess to You my past unfaithfulness…
• Not working out areas of spiritual obedience
- better and more regular Bible study
- Sabbath Eve. practice
- reading daily offices of prayer with David
For all these things (unfaithfulness; lack of obedience) I am truly sorry and do most humbly repent. Strength, please, to carry out my desires before You and to carry out Your desires for me.
This is work, isn’t it, and I am only on the first sin of unfaithfulness, then there are sub-sins (the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.) Oh, dear.
Today during the Eucharistic service, a young woman stood beside the cross that is at the back of the school gym where we meet to worship. “Can I pray with you?” I asked. “Oh, yes,” she answered. “How can I pray?”
“Pray for my many areas of unfaithfulness.” Well, I certainly knew what that was about. So we prayed.
I suspect that one of the reasons so many of us have a hard time discovering the work of God in our lives is that we have not done the work of self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting and self-denial. When we do that work, God is there, standing beside a young woman hugging the Cross in the back of the elementary-school gym where a certain people gather to worship.
I spy God!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
We See What We Want to See
In his book Shakespeare’s Religious Background, Peter Milward takes 12 chapters (and one introduction) to propose with much scholarly evidence that Will Shakespeare was profoundly religious—just the words that make up the body of his dramatic work are evidence aplenty. What is amazing about this proposition is how few Shakespeare scholars have come to the same conclusion!
In addition to the axiom proposed in the last Soulish Food, “You Find What You Look For,” we need to add its sister truth, “We See What We Want to See.” This again is potentially one of the blind spots that leads people to live in some kind of lie or to live out inner schitoma that subtly twists life-view—a scary reality if we begin to face our own inner lies.
The CBS news broadcast 60 Minutes recently reported on a case of clinical research fraud in the segment “Deception at Duke.” Their lead question to tease the viewer was, “Were some cancer patients at Duke University given experimental treatments based on fabricated data?” The conclusion reached through this investigative reporting was that, indeed, more than a hundred desperately ill people invested their last hopes in Duke’s innovation—a supposed cure that purported to discover how to match a patient’s unique DNA pattern (causing unique tumor growth) to the best chemotherapy drug.
Termed by some to be the Holy Grail of cancer research, the results of this supposed breakthrough treatment were published in the most prestigious of medical journals. However, under the scrutiny of other scientists, the work of Dr. Anil Potti was not just a failure—it may end up being one of the biggest medical-research frauds ever.
Under grueling but polite 60 Minutes questioning, Dr. Rob Califf, Duke’s vice chancellor of clinical research and mentor to Dr. Potti, examined why he had not discovered the possible fraud sooner and put a stop to the research process before it became a hugely embarrassing fiasco for the University as well as a tragic path for those cancer patients who entered the trial treatments with the understanding that this was a therapy that promised to change the face of medicine.
In so many words, Dr. Rob Califf explained just why this intervention hadnot happened, but I, a lowly, non-scientific television viewer, wanted to shout, “It’s because you all saw what you wanted to see!” Scientific controls are established to prevent this sort of fiasco, but the human element being what it is, wanting the fame of breakthrough discovery, wanting the certainty of a waiting Nobel Prize, wanting to discover the “Holy Grail” for cancer cure, just did not allow the primary players the objectivity about the evidence that more hard-nosed scientific investigators did see.
So it is with literary scholars—they often overlook the most obvious evidence. How could Shakespeare, the literary genius of the centuries, possibly be essentially, primarily Christian in his worldview? Not acceptable. Not intellectual. Not the ordinary path of genius. HAH!
David and I watched the growing notoriety of Tim Tebow, the quarterback of the Denver Broncos, who has been so outspoken about his faith in Christ. (Thank God the season has ended, giving this remarkable young man a chance to recover from the glaring spotlight of the broadcast and social media. We pray for him that his faith may be continually strengthened.) So much of the negative reporting on his lack of athletic ability, or about his inadequate quarterbacking capabilities, was based in the bias of unbelief on the part of the sports commentators (i.e., no guy who kneeled on the field—“Tebowing” as it became known around the world—could be a decent athlete, or at least decent enough to lead a football team into the playoff season). We humans see what we want to see; proof in point.
(By the way: A wonderful essay on this whole phenomenon titled “When Tim Tebow loses, does God, too?” was written in USA TODAY by Tom Krattenmaker in the January 16, 2012 issue; a voice of theological and rational reason in this see-what-we-want-to-see world!)
Peter Milward, chapter by chapter, quote by quote, character by character, play by play, builds his premise that Shakespeare was a man of faith. This scholar highlights the Scripture the playwright either quotes or paraphrases. He discovers the current theological writings and issues of the time that the Bard references. “We also find that he (Shakespeare) observes an inner consistency both within his plays as a whole and with the theological tradition of Christianity—parallel to that which we have noticed in his moral viewpoint. This consistency is not necessarily the outcome of original thought or profound speculation. Rather, it may be seen as the expression of a deep personal faith, enriched by the theological inheritance of the Middle Ages, and stimulated by the continuing concern of medieval theologians and Renaissance thinkers for a synthesis between reason and revelation, between the Book of Nature and the Book of Scripture.”
Then Milward takes the whole last chapter of his book to confirm this premise. It is titled "Theology."
I personally consider it a tragedy in ignorance that so few evangelical Christians have any knowledge of Shakespeare or of his profoundly religious worldview. It used to be that every home (even non-practicing Christian homes) had at least three volumes on their shelves—a Bible, a hymnal, and Shakespeare’s complete works. And the times—well, they do change. Now we have multitude of Bibles—most of which we never read. Hymns, once carefully sung for their theological content, particularly the Psalms, have been replaced by praise and worship songs, which often lean into a more experiential expression of faith. And the Compiled Works of Shakespeare—well, many major Ivy League colleges no longer offer the Bard in their class syllabi.
This lack, and the loss of the elevating tone of beautiful words, is certainly part of the whole degeneration of language that our culture is propagating. “F…” this and “f…” that. On and on and on. Gruesome! Hellish! Degrading!
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
They are polluted offerings, more abhorr’d
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
—Cassandra, Troilus and Cressida
Then this uttered by Antony in Julius Caesar:
When we in our viciousness grow hard,--
O misery on’t!—the wise gods seel our eyes;
In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
Adore our errors; laugh at’s while we strut
To our confusion. (III.xiii)
Karen Mains’ paraphrase: We see what we want to see.
David and I invite you to accompany us to the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Canada (about a 9-hour drive from Chicago). We have made this trip up (and back, yes!) for the last 38 years. It is the finest repertory theatre company in North America, with a mix of Broadway musicals, grand-staged and small-staged theatre offerings, a chance to dialog with the actors, feed the swans on the River Avon, attend four operating theatres, participate in planned breakfast-table discussions, and enjoy the privilege of listening to the rich language, not to mention an unremittingly brilliant view of the world that is decidedly Christian (according to both scholar Peter Milward and common everyday folk like David and Karen Mains). Follow this link to the brochure on the Stratford Festival, dates and costs and how to register.
“I commend my soul into the hands of God my Creator, hoping and assuredly believing through the only merits of Jesus Christ my Saviour to be made partaker of life everlasting, and my body to the earth whereof it is made.”
―from the will of Shakespeare to which his signature is attached
In addition to the axiom proposed in the last Soulish Food, “You Find What You Look For,” we need to add its sister truth, “We See What We Want to See.” This again is potentially one of the blind spots that leads people to live in some kind of lie or to live out inner schitoma that subtly twists life-view—a scary reality if we begin to face our own inner lies.
The CBS news broadcast 60 Minutes recently reported on a case of clinical research fraud in the segment “Deception at Duke.” Their lead question to tease the viewer was, “Were some cancer patients at Duke University given experimental treatments based on fabricated data?” The conclusion reached through this investigative reporting was that, indeed, more than a hundred desperately ill people invested their last hopes in Duke’s innovation—a supposed cure that purported to discover how to match a patient’s unique DNA pattern (causing unique tumor growth) to the best chemotherapy drug.
Termed by some to be the Holy Grail of cancer research, the results of this supposed breakthrough treatment were published in the most prestigious of medical journals. However, under the scrutiny of other scientists, the work of Dr. Anil Potti was not just a failure—it may end up being one of the biggest medical-research frauds ever.
Under grueling but polite 60 Minutes questioning, Dr. Rob Califf, Duke’s vice chancellor of clinical research and mentor to Dr. Potti, examined why he had not discovered the possible fraud sooner and put a stop to the research process before it became a hugely embarrassing fiasco for the University as well as a tragic path for those cancer patients who entered the trial treatments with the understanding that this was a therapy that promised to change the face of medicine.
In so many words, Dr. Rob Califf explained just why this intervention hadnot happened, but I, a lowly, non-scientific television viewer, wanted to shout, “It’s because you all saw what you wanted to see!” Scientific controls are established to prevent this sort of fiasco, but the human element being what it is, wanting the fame of breakthrough discovery, wanting the certainty of a waiting Nobel Prize, wanting to discover the “Holy Grail” for cancer cure, just did not allow the primary players the objectivity about the evidence that more hard-nosed scientific investigators did see.
So it is with literary scholars—they often overlook the most obvious evidence. How could Shakespeare, the literary genius of the centuries, possibly be essentially, primarily Christian in his worldview? Not acceptable. Not intellectual. Not the ordinary path of genius. HAH!
David and I watched the growing notoriety of Tim Tebow, the quarterback of the Denver Broncos, who has been so outspoken about his faith in Christ. (Thank God the season has ended, giving this remarkable young man a chance to recover from the glaring spotlight of the broadcast and social media. We pray for him that his faith may be continually strengthened.) So much of the negative reporting on his lack of athletic ability, or about his inadequate quarterbacking capabilities, was based in the bias of unbelief on the part of the sports commentators (i.e., no guy who kneeled on the field—“Tebowing” as it became known around the world—could be a decent athlete, or at least decent enough to lead a football team into the playoff season). We humans see what we want to see; proof in point.
(By the way: A wonderful essay on this whole phenomenon titled “When Tim Tebow loses, does God, too?” was written in USA TODAY by Tom Krattenmaker in the January 16, 2012 issue; a voice of theological and rational reason in this see-what-we-want-to-see world!)
Peter Milward, chapter by chapter, quote by quote, character by character, play by play, builds his premise that Shakespeare was a man of faith. This scholar highlights the Scripture the playwright either quotes or paraphrases. He discovers the current theological writings and issues of the time that the Bard references. “We also find that he (Shakespeare) observes an inner consistency both within his plays as a whole and with the theological tradition of Christianity—parallel to that which we have noticed in his moral viewpoint. This consistency is not necessarily the outcome of original thought or profound speculation. Rather, it may be seen as the expression of a deep personal faith, enriched by the theological inheritance of the Middle Ages, and stimulated by the continuing concern of medieval theologians and Renaissance thinkers for a synthesis between reason and revelation, between the Book of Nature and the Book of Scripture.”
Then Milward takes the whole last chapter of his book to confirm this premise. It is titled "Theology."
I personally consider it a tragedy in ignorance that so few evangelical Christians have any knowledge of Shakespeare or of his profoundly religious worldview. It used to be that every home (even non-practicing Christian homes) had at least three volumes on their shelves—a Bible, a hymnal, and Shakespeare’s complete works. And the times—well, they do change. Now we have multitude of Bibles—most of which we never read. Hymns, once carefully sung for their theological content, particularly the Psalms, have been replaced by praise and worship songs, which often lean into a more experiential expression of faith. And the Compiled Works of Shakespeare—well, many major Ivy League colleges no longer offer the Bard in their class syllabi.
This lack, and the loss of the elevating tone of beautiful words, is certainly part of the whole degeneration of language that our culture is propagating. “F…” this and “f…” that. On and on and on. Gruesome! Hellish! Degrading!
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows;
They are polluted offerings, more abhorr’d
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
—Cassandra, Troilus and Cressida
Then this uttered by Antony in Julius Caesar:
When we in our viciousness grow hard,--
O misery on’t!—the wise gods seel our eyes;
In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
Adore our errors; laugh at’s while we strut
To our confusion. (III.xiii)
Karen Mains’ paraphrase: We see what we want to see.
David and I invite you to accompany us to the Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Canada (about a 9-hour drive from Chicago). We have made this trip up (and back, yes!) for the last 38 years. It is the finest repertory theatre company in North America, with a mix of Broadway musicals, grand-staged and small-staged theatre offerings, a chance to dialog with the actors, feed the swans on the River Avon, attend four operating theatres, participate in planned breakfast-table discussions, and enjoy the privilege of listening to the rich language, not to mention an unremittingly brilliant view of the world that is decidedly Christian (according to both scholar Peter Milward and common everyday folk like David and Karen Mains). Follow this link to the brochure on the Stratford Festival, dates and costs and how to register.
“I commend my soul into the hands of God my Creator, hoping and assuredly believing through the only merits of Jesus Christ my Saviour to be made partaker of life everlasting, and my body to the earth whereof it is made.”
―from the will of Shakespeare to which his signature is attached
Friday, March 9, 2012
Litany of Penitence
Have you ever gone on a God Hunt? A God Hunt begins when you teach yourself to look for God’s hand at work in the everyday occurrences of your life. Here’s one of my personal God Hunt Sightings:
For me, the Season of Lent is always a matter of finding it. Most people who observe these 40 days on the church calendar that lead up to Easter, head into the season with a list of things they are going to do and a list of things they are going to refrain from doing. I just seem to go into Lent groping around for its personal meaning to me. I usually land on something satisfactory around 20 days in.
This year, I’m stuck on the Litany of Penitence from the Book of Common Prayer. Each confession keeps pounding itself so heavily into my soul that I’m kind of out of breath as one by one I consider them—like I had been climbing up a steep hill.
In church, a celebrant reads the confession, to which the congregation replies: We confess to you, Lord. The Litany of Penitence begins with: “We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.”
Whoa—guilty, guilty, and guilty—guilty on all counts.
The next on the list is: “Our self-indulgent appetites and ways and our exploitation of other people.” Guilty and guilty again.
I haven’t proceeded to the six other confessions yet—these two seem to be more than I can deal with in this first week of Lent—maybe I will have worked my way through the next four by Easter.
I think I should take some time to write out all my past unfaithfulness, all the pride I can remember (so much there) and identify all the hypocrisy and impatience.
Once I’ve done this spiritual exercise, then maybe I will be able to consider what it is I am going to do to observe Lent and from what it is I am going to refrain.
I spy God!
For me, the Season of Lent is always a matter of finding it. Most people who observe these 40 days on the church calendar that lead up to Easter, head into the season with a list of things they are going to do and a list of things they are going to refrain from doing. I just seem to go into Lent groping around for its personal meaning to me. I usually land on something satisfactory around 20 days in.
This year, I’m stuck on the Litany of Penitence from the Book of Common Prayer. Each confession keeps pounding itself so heavily into my soul that I’m kind of out of breath as one by one I consider them—like I had been climbing up a steep hill.
In church, a celebrant reads the confession, to which the congregation replies: We confess to you, Lord. The Litany of Penitence begins with: “We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.”
Whoa—guilty, guilty, and guilty—guilty on all counts.
The next on the list is: “Our self-indulgent appetites and ways and our exploitation of other people.” Guilty and guilty again.
I haven’t proceeded to the six other confessions yet—these two seem to be more than I can deal with in this first week of Lent—maybe I will have worked my way through the next four by Easter.
I think I should take some time to write out all my past unfaithfulness, all the pride I can remember (so much there) and identify all the hypocrisy and impatience.
Once I’ve done this spiritual exercise, then maybe I will be able to consider what it is I am going to do to observe Lent and from what it is I am going to refrain.
I spy God!
Monday, March 5, 2012
A Leather Chair
Have you ever gone on a God Hunt? A God Hunt begins when you teach yourself to look for God’s hand at work in the everyday occurrences of your life. Here’s one of my personal God Hunt Sightings:
Yesterday I did something well. Something I have been working on and which my daughter has been coaching me to do. She will be pleased. I have been working on receiving the gifts that come my way when they come; not pausing or considering and perhaps missing the opportunity, but just taking what is given with joy and gratitude.
I bought an old worn leather reclining chair at Goodwill for $14.99. I had the money. My sister had her big Jeep SUV. I’ve never been to that Goodwill—it is in one of the northwest suburbs—and I may never be there again. So I took the gift, without knowing how or where I would put it. We loaded it into the back of her car. My poor brother-in-law will have to haul it out and store it in the garage until I have the time and the vehicle to transport it home. It has no holes or tears, simply the rich leather patina that comes from years of wear.
I know, as does my daughter Melissa, and my sister Valerie, that in a Ralph Lauren-style design shop, this chair would sell for hundreds of dollars. I will either put it in David’s home study or down in the basement spare room where whoever stays there can lounge and read or watch television.
I am feeling smug and satisfied—not that I have the chair but that I saw it as a gift, a little joyous something along the way given to me by my Father God, who says to me like my earthly father used to, Now sweet. Take the gift. It’s for you. Enjoy. I thought you might like it.
I spy God!
Yesterday I did something well. Something I have been working on and which my daughter has been coaching me to do. She will be pleased. I have been working on receiving the gifts that come my way when they come; not pausing or considering and perhaps missing the opportunity, but just taking what is given with joy and gratitude.
I bought an old worn leather reclining chair at Goodwill for $14.99. I had the money. My sister had her big Jeep SUV. I’ve never been to that Goodwill—it is in one of the northwest suburbs—and I may never be there again. So I took the gift, without knowing how or where I would put it. We loaded it into the back of her car. My poor brother-in-law will have to haul it out and store it in the garage until I have the time and the vehicle to transport it home. It has no holes or tears, simply the rich leather patina that comes from years of wear.
I know, as does my daughter Melissa, and my sister Valerie, that in a Ralph Lauren-style design shop, this chair would sell for hundreds of dollars. I will either put it in David’s home study or down in the basement spare room where whoever stays there can lounge and read or watch television.
I am feeling smug and satisfied—not that I have the chair but that I saw it as a gift, a little joyous something along the way given to me by my Father God, who says to me like my earthly father used to, Now sweet. Take the gift. It’s for you. Enjoy. I thought you might like it.
I spy God!
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