Journey Center Blog

I haven’t written a post in a while. I figured it’s time again. Like the rest of you, I’ve had a busy summer- running around, taking vacations, visiting with friends and family, having barbecues, soaking up every possible moment of sunshine before the clouds and cold set back in. (I live in Seattle.) This has been a wonderful time of refreshment for my soul.

I have been experiencing God’s presence like the sun lately- a warm, relaxing, encouraging, peaceful presence deep in my soul. I’ve had a lot of changes in my life and heartaches over the last year (a lot of “rain”). But I find that no matter how cloudy it is on the inside, I can always return to God’s presence and find the peace and comfort and hope I need. When I feel like the storm will last forever, He is there reminding me of the internal sunshine and warmth He brings. His love and presence is like a bright, shining light radiating out of my heart and reminding me of all the joys and blessings in my life.

As the fall approaches, I am thinking about how my routine will settle down a bit. I’m returning to school and starting to think through the activities I will participate in each week and how I’ll schedule my time. For those of you in Sonoma County, as you are planning your fall schedules, check out the Journey Center website. It has been recently updated with all the events for this Fall. Make plans now to take advantage of all those gatherings and events that allow you to slow down and return your focus to the presence of the Holy within you. Wish I could join you!

The first Friday of August, Dan and I offered an evening on poetry of the Christian mystics as our monthly Meeting the Mystics gathering. We focused on 4 aspects of the Christ-centered mystical path– nature mysticism, bridal/love mysticism, the journey of kenosis/emptying, and entering the Silence. Dan and I read most of the poems back and forth, so folks could hear them two different times, and in two different voices and styles– how often does that happen? So often we hear something once and then are dashing off to the next thing. We also decided to limit the number of poems so we could SAVOR them– also a great and rare pleasure. At one point I looked up and saw folks with their eyes closed, listening so deeply– no wonder a couple of people have asked us to do this again. Part of the pleasure for me, too, was having people come who don’t usually think of themselves as poetry lovers–and yet they could hear how each one of the writers had experienced God and then had– in words that are always limited and imperfect-attempted to share that experience with us–so that we,too, could enter into that moment when the Holy was a felt and experienced Presence-
I wanted to share a couple of the poems we read and invite all those of you who read our staff blogs to take a few moments, and read these slowly– maybe a couple of times — and enter into the God-blessed time these poet-mystics are describing- is there something that Spirit might be saying to you in this poems–perhaps something you are being asked to remember, or celebrate, or reflect upon, or pray over—-

The first is by R.S. Thomas, a Welsh Anglican priest who lived from 1913-2000. He was an amazing nature mystic-

The Moor
It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours,
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.

There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart’s passions-that was praise
Enough; and the mind’s cessation
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.

This next one is by Carrol Houselander, who died in the 1950’s. It’s my personal favorite “emptying poem’.

Reeds of God

We are emptiness like the hollow in the reed,
the narrow riftless emptiness
which can have only one destiny:
to receive the piper’s breath and
to utter the song that is in the piper’s heart.

We are emptiness like the hollow in the cup,
shaped to receive water.
We are emptiness like that of a bird’s est.

The reed grows by the stream.
It is the simplest of things, but
it must be cut by a sharp knife,
hollowed out, stops put in it.
It must be shaped and pierced before
it can utter the shepherd’s song.
it is the narrowest emptiness in the world,
but the little reed utters God’s infinite music.

We are lifted up and carved out,
formed and shaped and filled with
all the music of the earth.

(I’m not going to comment on these poems–so you, if you want, can just be with your own experience without my interpretations interfering with your own response–but I will just say–WOW! WOW!:>)

Finally, a poem by contemporary poet, Episcopalian , Mary Oliver. She is usually in the nature section of mystical poetry, but Dan and I used this in the silence portion to lead people into a silent prayer time– you’ll hear why-

Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together, and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

This month I am carrying a poetry journal with me– I am writing poems in response to whatever catches my attention– so far my dog, Molly, sneezing;my husband fast asleep in his chair when I got home late one night;a lady who loves Christ but can’t relate to Jesus; the 50th anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird; pomegranate salad dressing; and that poor fig tree Jesus blasted– all of which brought me just a bit more deeply, and more humbly and with more of my body, and heart, and crazy over-active mind, into what in Christianity we call ‘the sacrament of the present moment’.
That to me is the gift of poetry– if I can enter so fully into another’s experience–and most especially if that experience is of God–than my own capacity of being more fully present is encouraged,expanded. I think the Holy Spirit inspires these poems–and speaks to us through them– as if the poets were the hollowed out reeds and the poems the Shepherd’s breath– that gives life.

I hope you enjoy these -

Ruah

Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith by Mary Oliver

Every summer
I listen and look 
under the sun’s brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can’t hear

anything, I can’t see anything – 
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,

the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker – 
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.

And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing – 
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,

the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet – 
all of it happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.

Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt

swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?

One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn’s beautiful body
is sure to be there.

This past week I ate two ears of pure summer: golden corn-on-the-cob complete with melted butter and a touch of salt.  It was sooo good as everything is when in season.  The poet Mary Oliver is a midwesterner as am I.  We both love to walk and in walking, are immersed in the natural world and feel very comfortable there.  One might say we both possess the same indefatigable interest in all things created.  

Poetry can speak to our hearts in a way that normative speech cannot.  Prose is poignant and powerful and can aid the listener in experiencing a topic with a new perspective.  Dan Beach and Ruah Bull are Journey Center staff members with a fondness for poetry and their workshop is coming up on August 6 as part of the Meeting the Mystics series. For more information, see our website: http://www.journeycenter.org/hapMystics.php.

I’ve been on a health food diet for the last 2 weeks. I’m paying more attention to what I put into my body, as I know it has a huge effect on how I feel and how well I enjoy life. To my surprise, in several of the health food books I was reading, they were referencing Bible scriptures. I’ve also noticed that some of the whole grain foods I was purchasing had Bible references on them. I thought it would be fun to look up the verses and see what the Bible has to say about food.

References found on food:

• Ezekial 4:9: “Take wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and spelt; put them in a storage jar and use them to make bread for yourself…” In this passage, God was directing a prophet to eat only this for 390 days. These ingredients are staples in any health food diet. Guess he needed optimal nutrition for 390 days!
• Genesis 1:29: “Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.” This passage comes right after God created the first humans – Adam and Eve. Interesting that they were vegetarians at first – only ate fruits and vegetables.

Reference found in health food books:

• Daniel 1: This is a story about ancient Hebrew people that were taken captive by another kingdom and were going to be trained for the king’s service. They were given “choice” food to eat (probably lots of fatty meats) and wine to drink. Instead, some of the Hebrews asked to be fed only vegetables and water. “At the end of the ten days they looked healthier and better nourished than any of the young men who ate the royal food.” (Daniel 1:15). Guess vegetables are good for you.
• 2 Samuel 17:28-29: “…They also brought wheat and barley, flour and roasted grain, beans and lentils, honey and curds, sheep, and cheese from cows’ milk…” Mmmm, I like honey. One website said “curds” may refer to yogurt. I’ve been eating a lot of that too.

What about meat?

• I don’t think there are any references to when people started eating meat, but it was sometime after Adam and Eve were kicked out of the garden. There are lists in the Bible of what meats are okay to eat and which ones are “unclean”. I’m not a Bible scholar, nutritionist or historian, but I’m guessing the unclean ones were really not healthy.

Anyway, I could go on and on. I’ve even discovered websites that had “Bible diets” based on references to scriptures. But whether you take the Bible literally or as a nice set of myths, these passages give us insight into what ancient people ate (before all the processed foods came along). What I’ve learned from all this is that it’s probably best to eat things that look the same way on your plate as they did when coming from the earth. And perhaps there is an intelligent creator who had all the advanced nutritional knowledge that’s taken us centuries of science to uncover and knew what to recommend to people to eat! 

This has also left me amazed at how interconnected with the earth we are – dependent on it, caretakers of it, formed from it, going back to it… We are not isolated individuals floating through space, but intricately connected with all life and matter around us. And how amazing that our Creator continues to provide all we need for life to continue to flourish.

There is an event coming up at the Journey Center next week I wish I could attend – a Summer Solstice Gathering. This should be a great way to celebrate one of our most precious gifts and sources of health and life – the sun!

Last Saturday, May 22nd, my colleague, Vincent Pizzuto, a Celtic Christian priest and theology professor, taught a workshop for me and a group of 20 friends at my home. He is writing a book during his sabattical on a contemplative approach to the Gospel of Matthew. I have been wanting to find a way into scripture– as I envy my Evangelical friends deep love for and engagement with the Bible, and I have found lectio to be a great gift, but I keep avoiding it. I have a Bible in my office, one in the living room, and two in the bedroom–one on the bedstand under my Contemplative Reader. Some part of me is wanting to enter in, but I have been deeply resistant too– whenever I would imagine opening it, a wave of boredom and exhaustion would come over me. I would remember the years in religion class in Catholic school with the dreary and boring old stories that seemed much less engaging and relevant than Shakespeare and Emily Dickenson. And then there is my current image of Bible-toters as red-faced with rage and hatefullness, spluttering verses like curses. Boredom and repulsion– no wonder I have been hesitant.
And yet–there were all those Bibles in my house, so something was pulling me–but I couldn’t get through the dullness of the past and the fear/resistance of the present. So of course:>)-I invite a theologian and a bunch of friends to my house to spend a day with Matthew–and see if I could find a way into the story.
The morning after the class, I woke up with an image of a bumpy, round rock, ugly brown and dusty. As I journelled, I sensed a small crack in the rock–closing my eyes and watching, I saw this crack begin to open up– and some soft lavendar light come out. Holding it in my hands, the rock broke open, to reveal a gorgeous lavender geode, glowing. It was like find a star inside an old box!

Writing about the image, wondering about what it was–I suddenly realized that this was the Bible! I can hear Spirit laughter– ok, I asked for this. Now what? I don’t know– but maybe I will actually pick up one of those Bibles.
Say a prayer,ok?

Today was one of those days… the ones where you feel like everything you choose is wrong. You start out with the best of intentions, but along the way, unforeseen things (like traffic accidents) derail all your best plans. And no matter which path (route home) you choose, you end up deciding something else would have been better and you just get more stuck and further behind.

Do you ever wish, like I do, that you could look into the future and really see the various outcomes of different choices you have? Do you ever wish you could call up God and get His Google Maps perspective of where your life’s red and black traffic lines are and where it’s green all the way? What if we could know the future, would it change the choices we make today?

One of my favorite current TV shows is “Flash Forward”. (I know, there’s probably only 3 of us out there watching this show. SciFi never seems to make it long on TV.) At the beginning of this series, the whole world loses consciousness for a few minutes and their minds shift forward in time by several months. Everyone gets to see a few minutes of what will be happening in their life in the near future. For some, it’s a wonderful vision – marriage, having a baby, being in love, becoming famous. For others, it’s a terrible vision – unfaithfulness to their spouse that they love, being killed, accidentally killing others.

After these characters wake up, knowing their future has an interesting impact on their present life and choices. We get to see how they either try to change their future, make it happen, or do nothing. We’re about to see if the decisions they’ve made and their actions will lead to the future they saw or if the characters who wanted to, were able to change the outcomes. Interesting premise… I think.

Well, of course, none of us can really know our futures or entirely predict how our choices will affect our lives, but it’s good to be aware of the choices we’re making each day and what path they’re leading us down. I’ve been thinking a lot about my own choices lately… how my life really adds up to a long (hopefully) series of choices. I think I’m going through a sort of mid-life crisis. (Yes, at age 34.) I’ve been looking back at all the choices I’ve made since graduating high school – colleges, jobs, friends, boyfriends, activities, beliefs, dreams, plans… And I see how each decision I’ve made along the way, some small and some large, has brought me to where I am now, and not only that, has really affected the type of person I’ve become and my position in life.

Did I intend for those choices to bring me to this point? Not all of them. If I could have “flashed forward” and seen my current life, would I have chosen some things differently? Probably. But by observing my past choices, I’ve realized what awesome freedom and responsibility I have to really create my own life, meaning and purpose. Understanding this has made me want to try harder to make sure the small and large choices I make every day are leading down the path I want so that I will end up at the destination I have in mind.

It’s amazing that the Creator has given me this awesome power to shape my life. I get to be a creator too – make things happen, determine outcomes, bring more good or evil into the world. My actions are not entirely pre-determined, not controlled. There is much I can decide for my life, even whether to seek out and acknowledge the Creator or not. It’s entirely up to me whether I make the choices that move me closer to aligning my life with what I was created for or not. I’m not forced into obedience or belief. It’s really up to me… what do I choose?

Do I pursue life or death? Do I spread love or resentment? Do I bring more light into the world or more darkness? I have the freedom to decide… My mid-life crisis is bringing me to a place of trying to live deliberately. I’ve wasted a lot of time on auto-pilot and fear of the future. I’ve spent a lot of years as a slave to making choices based on past experiences or unhealthy beliefs and feelings. I’m trying to break out of that and determine what I really want in life and make the choices that will bring me closer to those things.

I can’t “flash forward” to see my future and all possible outcomes, but I can envision what I want and do my best to make the choices that will lead me there. I need to write down my preferred future, post it on my wall, remember it and think of it every day so this vision can guide me and the little choices I make every day that eventually add up to my life. There will always be unexpected things happening, bends in the road I didn’t see coming, choices I’m forced to make that I don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try really hard to determine as much as possible of my future by making more deliberate choices each day.

Some out in the sun. Some in the water. Some resting. Some playing. Some coming into the sanctuary and some returning to the open sea. The gift of being at the coast with very few other humans and being a part of the scene. Noticing what is going on and what is being left alone. Watching the pups watching their moms while they carefully watch the people. Looking at the tide coming back in again today. These Harbor Seals have found the officially designated Marine Mammal Preserve. Not like the one who had found a solitary place down the coast. This one had been found by the clean up crew of the air upon passing. All the others had found their way to the place humans have appointed a “no harassing the wild life zone.”
Where do we find these places for our kind?
It occurs to me that we have a place like this here on Fourth Street. A safe zone. A place where there are no harassing the humans. An invitational place where there is space to come and be. There is space to sit. Sometimes there is a spot of sun for a few minutes. Sometimes there is movement and play as there are times of rest and reflection. A “no harassing the human zone.”
Drawn back to the coast: Watching the waves, each with their own unique moment in time. We see from one point on land one perspective. Yet, there are countless moments in each splash of water. Divinity notices it all. The Creator watching the creation. A safe place.

One of the beautiful wisdom tales I am so often reminded of at The Journey Center is the Sufi teaching that each person is a colorful reflection of the Holy–for example the passionate person shines with the red light of God, and the scholar with yellow; the healer with green, the peacemaker with blue–and together we reflect the white light of God. When I look around the groups I go to at the Center, I am always delighted to meet the scientists who speak of God in the language of quarks and black holes and other quantum mysteries. I love the passionate social activists, and the sometimes quiet/sometimes flamboyant  mystics, the ones who bring a Bible to every meeting,  the healers whose language is the body and movement, the storytellers and comics and the ones who have the gift of tears. Some of the moments I most cherish are when I actually get to experience how a person different from me comes to know the Divine. It was amazing for me to finally realize that a man who has been coming to a Jesus conversation group at my house for close to 3 years is not ’stuck in his head’ but in fact truly experiences the Holy through his mind and craft…I had always assumed there had to be some sort of emotional–maybe even cathartic- event– but he knows God while fixing a car for his grandaughter and seeing with pleasure how the engine works, and knowing he is giving this young woman a meaningful gift. Who knew??

We have a LOT of ‘colors’ at the center:>). Part of what I am enjoying learning– and it is not always easy or comfortable though ultimately it IS always joyful– is that when we gather together with the intention to deeply listen to one another, and to grow in love, even clashing colors can become Beauty. I give thanks to the Creator of All Color for that.

I am looking at my spring garden. We have had lots of rain this year–the resevoirs are full to overflowing, and the flowers and trees are blooming. The lavendar is full of bees, the roses are bright and soft, and plants are coming up that haven’t peeked out for a couple of years. Some mornings, when there has been a rain, the green has the soft sheen I remember from Boston. The hills around Petaluma where I live are covered with a hundred different greens– how can there be so many? I find myself some mornings going out into the garden to pull a weed or two and then find out I am out there for an hour, the dogs lolling in the grass as I wander around, clipping here/trimming there/watering and then just standing underneath the jasmine and smelling and smelling. Sometimes when things are hard, I watch clouds, or roll Molly, my 14 year old puppy, onto her back for a tickle, or think of herbs, and hundreds of kinds of green, and I remember that–despite it all– I am invited to remember that all that has been created is good. I give thanks, this Earth Day, for the beauty that surrounds and blesses and comforts and reminds me to stop/look/enjoy/love. I love the priest-poet Gerald Manley Hopkins who helped me discover the blatant love of creation at the heart of the Jewish and Christian traditions. Let me end with a favorite quotation from him- “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil”.

Back in the 70’s and 80’s when I was very involved with the womens’ movement, I discovered that I had to become cautious whenever anyone asked me if Iwas a feminist. My natural response would have been “Of course”, but I soon discovered that some folks meant very different things by those words. Some people were asking me if I hated everything male. Others were asking if I was a lesbian. Some wanted to know if I respected women as much as men–while others were looking to see if  I valued women over men. Others were inquiring about my hygeine habits–you know, the shaving legs and armpits thing:>). I could go on….but what became apparent is that I had to begin by stopping and asking the person to tell me a little bit more about what they meant by feminist–so I could respond to what they were actually asking. This led to many interesting conversations–including how it was that I was a committed feminist who was heterosexual, happily married, passionate about helping women, and the good friend of many marvellous men.

In my life now, I find myself experiencing a familiar thing when people ask me if I am Christian. I have to stop and ask them to tell me what they mean by that. Back in the 60’s, the image of Christians were Martin Luther King and the Berrigan brothers–radical social activist Christians that many more conservative Church people did not identify with. Now the cultural images are much more conservative–even fundamentalist–and so I find that if I don’t ask what people mean by Christian, I could be giving a false impression. Some more traditional Christians are thrilled if I say yes I am–and then are horrified when they hear me using the Hindu Upanishads to talk about Christian mysticm.  And my social activist Christian friends are freaked out when I speak of contemplation and miracles and the movement of the Spirit.  And then the non-Christians assume I am out bombing Planned Parenthood and condemming everyone different from me to hell…sigh…

The only good thing about this whole difficult process is that it can open up fascinating conversations. Many people have not actually asked themselves what they mean by “Christian”–so many unexamined assumptions. So I have to confess I rarely say I am Christian upfront–and if someone asks me directly I might fudge and say I follow Christ–but then if there is a bit of interest-if the conversation opens at that point rather than slams down, I get the chance to ask people what they mean–and then there is the possibility of learning and sharing,growing and even healing for us.

What do YOU mean by Christian? Does your definition open conversation, learning, relationship, or shut it down?