When Two Plus Two Equals Five: The Spirit in Community

Well, I got my second chance at a sermon, preached on May 19, 2013 at First Baptist Church in Edmonton, AB. Here it is:

Acts 2:1-4 When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.

***

Today we conclude our 37-week narrative lectionary with the story of Pentecost – the long-awaited outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the holy Wind which blew new life into the people of God. Over the past few Sundays, we’ve jumped ahead to see what grew out of that first amazing wind-and-fire experience: we’ve watched the clueless disciples grow into spirit-filled leaders of the early church.

And it all started with Pentecost. I wonder what images or ideas come to mind for you with the word “Pentecost?”

Perhaps you or someone you know has had a “Pentecostal” experience – a supernatural outpouring of some kind. Perhaps it brought you joy. Or perhaps it made you uncomfortable. Maybe the word ‘Pentecost’ awakens your own discomfort with anything that feels too mystical or touchy-feely in the spirituality department. For some of us in the Baptist tradition who have trouble knowing just what to do with mystery, perhaps we’ve simply skipped over Pentecost rather quickly to the more tangible aspects of our faith. Or, maybe it’s a word you don’t even really understand.

My strongest association with the word is one of discomfort and it comes from my Bible College years, when I volunteered for a weekend with a Christian prison ministry. What I witnessed that weekend was a manufactured event that used spiritual themes to manipulate broken people. My disillusionment turned to indignation when I received a follow-up letter in the mail, declaring the event a rousing success. In fact, the letter stated: whereas only 3000 people were saved on the day of Pentecost, over 5000 were saved this weekend alone at the Weekend of Champions!!!

Unfortunately, this is what often comes to mind when I hear the word “Pentecost” – the way a Christian organization boiled down this climactic moment in history where God fulfilled his ancient promise to pour out his own Spirit on his people – to a success story about numbers.

And this is how some people think about the Spirit – that “it” is a powerful force which can be harnessed by people to manufacture results – numbers saved, miracles performed, power demonstrated – all of which are more about the product than the people. Or even worse, some have seen such demonstrations and declared the whole business to be phony, a sham.

The Gospel of the Holy Spirit

This is not the Holy Spirit as revealed in the Book of Acts, which has sometimes been referred to as the Gospel of the Holy Spirit. Whereas the traditional four gospels tell the story of Jesus as he walked this earth, this “fifth gospel,” if you will, tells the story of the adventures of the Holy Spirit – arriving on the scene to shape a ragtag band of confused followers into the New People of God. This relationship of Spirit and people would become the means by which God’s purposes in the world were, and are still, being accomplished.

In order to appreciate just how shocking such an idea must have been to the early Jewish believers, keep in mind that all they would have known of the presence of the Holy Spirit was vicarious, through the occasional and individual experiences of the prophets, judges and other leaders. And, at this point in their history, it’s been 400 years since even that happened.

And yet – they had heard the words of the prophet Joel, spoken so long ago, and which --- read earlier in the service:

“I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days.”

“I will pour out my Spirit on all people.” It must’ve been such a strange and wonderful idea. What would it be like for everyone to be filled with God’s Spirit?

The Disciples Are On Their Own

Eight hundred years after Joel wrote those words of God’s generous and inclusive gifting of his Spirit, we find the disciples at the beginning of the Book of Acts, probably wondering the very same thing. These men and women had walked with Jesus – they prayed and cried and ate with him. And Jesus taught them – about the Father and the kingdom of God, and about the Spirit that was to come. Jesus shared some pretty big dreams with them – bigger than Israel, even! – and they’re routinely left reeling and trying to make sense of it all.

There was a generosity, an expansiveness, to what Jesus was saying – he was constantly and tenderly stretching the disciples’ minds and imaginations about just how big God’s purposes of redemption really are.

And then, he was gone – ascended on the clouds to heaven. Despite the promise that Jesus would indeed come back to complete his mysterious restoration-mission – in the meantime they are left alone. Jesus, the resurrected God-man who is the driving force of this still-fragile movement, has left the planet. How brutal was that?

The disciples are on their own now, 120 men and women, with a pretty fuzzy picture of what happens next. They were inspired to dream big with Jesus, but without him – well, What now?, they wondered, and How?

This is one of the reasons that the book of Acts was written – to address the (failed) expectation of the first Christians that Jesus would return imminently – like, within weeks or months. It’s Luke’s attempt to show the early believers what it meant and what it looked like to be God’s people – to be the Church – in the meantime. And the key to that puzzle is that they were not alone for long – the Holy Spirit would love and lead them every bit as intimately as Jesus had.

And so, as the disciples ponder what they are to do next, they realise there is nothing they can do…except what Jesus told them to do: wait. Wait for the promised Spirit – this wild, untameable Wind which blows wherever it pleases. Wait, for God’s own presence cannot be summoned, contained, controlled or directed.

So these ones who love Jesus wait, and they pray – constantly, Luke tell us. It couldn’t have been easy to wait for God to act. It never is.

The Day of Pentecost

And then, the day of Pentecost comes. This ancient Jewish holiday began as a great celebration of God’s provision, when the firstfruits of the harvest were returned to him with thankfulness. It later expanded to include a commemoration of the giving of the law on Mt Sinai. It was an important day in the life of devout Jews, who gathered in Jerusalem from across the known world.

A perfect storm was gathering, out of which the Church would be birthed. The first followers of Jesus and a great multinational crowd of dispersed Jews were converging in this time and place to celebrate the generous provision of God, when something like a mighty wind swept among them. Something like fire – for metaphors are as close as Luke can get to describing the experience – came and settled upon the heads of the believers. And in the midst of the whirlwind and the tongues of flame, God’s Spirit came to rest, once and for all, upon the people – women and men, young and old, servants and masters. The same Spirit who, in the very beginning, had hovered over the void and filled the earth with divine creativity was now filling the hearts of the people gathered in this place.

And the Spirit’s first work was to create relationships where there had been none. The Spirit spoke words into the mouths of those astonished believers, familiar words in the road-weary travellers’ own languages, words that sounded like home – the language of loved ones left behind. And those familiar words told of something utterly new. They spoke of “the wonders of God” – not only what God had done and was doing, even now. God was on the move!

Despite their common heritage, the local and dispersed Jews were strangers amongst each other. Their languages and adopted cultures had divided them. What they left with was a new sense of community, a shared identity as the New People of God.

And there was more…

In the space of a few moments, Peter, who had not so very long ago denied even knowing Jesus, was now eloquently proclaiming the great God-story to an audience of thousands. He was painting the big picture of God on the move. And all this by God’s Spirit!

And so began the adventures of the Holy Spirit. I like the way Barbara Brown Taylor describes what happened. She says:

“Shy people had become bold, scared people had become gutsy, and lost people had found a sure sense of direction. Disciples who had not believed themselves capable of tying their own sandals without Jesus, discovered abilities within themselves they had not known they had…In short order, they were doing things they had never seen anyone but him do. And there was no explanation for it except that they dared to inhale on the day of Pentecost. They had sucked in God’s own breath and they had been transformed by it... The book of Acts is the story of their adventures.”

Gutsy, capable, gifted, transformed: these were the signs of the Spirit in the lives of the first believers. By the Spirit, Stephen the martyr was able to die with grace and with words of forgiveness, even as he fell at the hands of violent men.  By the Spirit, Saul the murderer became Paul the evangelist. And by the Spirit, Peter had a vision that resulted in Jews and Gentiles finding more common ground than they ever thought possible.

Recognizing the Spirit

One thing is clear about this mysterious Third Person of the trinity: The Holy Spirit is full of surprises!

Do we recognize this same Spirit, living and working in us?

My experience of the Holy Spirit seems a lot more mundane than that of the folks in Acts. It’s hazy, subtle – I don’t always know what is the Spirit and what is my own will or wishful thinking, or simple coincidence. I don’t tend to think of my experiences as epic or heroic.

Once again, Barbara Brown Taylor proved helpful to me as I struggled to recognize the presence of the Holy Spirit in my own life. Here’s what she says:

“Once you get the hang of it, the evidence is easy to find. Whenever 2+2 does not equal 4 but 5, whenever you begin to speak with eloquence you know you do not have, or find yourself offering forgiveness you had not meant to offer, whenever you find yourself taking risks you know you do not have the courage to take, or when you find yourself walking toward someone you meant to walk away from, then you can be pretty sure that you are experiencing the gospel of the Holy Spirit.”

Last week, as Anne described the spiritual practice of clothing ourselves with Christ, she mentioned putting on the “glasses of attentiveness.” What stands out when we peer through these new Spirit-lenses?

•  Perhaps some of us have experienced our own 2+2=5 phenomenon…
• Or shocked ourselves and others with unexpected eloquence, or unplanned forgiveness….
• Maybe we’ve shown courage or kindness when what we really wanted was to run away….

These images offer a window into the Spirit’s work that I can identify with in my own life. They bring to mind another experience from my Bible College years, in which each student was assigned a volunteer placement for each semester. My assignment was to visit AIDS patients and other terminally ill people at a dark and dingy little four-storey nursing home in downtown Chicago. Every week, I dreaded going to this sad and depressing place. Every week, I considered taking one of my few allotted cuts.

But, I went, and sat and visited with these sick and lonely people – most of whom had long since been abandoned or forgotten by family and loved ones. And every single time I went, I was filled with the most incredible sense of joy. I knew God’s Spirit had been there with me. I continued visiting on my own for another year and a half after my assignment was completed, and it never got easier to go, but it also never ceased to bring me great joy when I did. I have since learned to recognize this unexpected and intense joy as one of the clearest signposts of the Holy Spirit’s presence in my life.

What is your signpost? How do you most clearly sense the Spirit’s presence?

Joy, fellowship, forgiveness, or risky, courageous love – what it boils down to is our relationships with each other. The Spirit is most readily seen and experienced in the context of community. It was true on that first day of Pentecost and it is true today.

A Spirit-Filled People

And this is something that we must not miss: there’s an awful lot of togetherness going on in this passage, and indeed, the entire Book of Acts. Luke repeatedly makes a point of telling us that the first believers did what they did together. Though there is most certainly an individual element as well as a communal one to this Pentecost-story, we must not forget that the Holy Spirit was poured out on a people who would not have comprehended the individualism by which we define ourselves today.

This great inaugural Spirit-filling happened in the context of community. Or more precisely, the Spirit was creating – birthing–  a people  through whom God’s purposes would be accomplished in the world. We have been preaching about the NPOG – the New People of God and about God’s great work of providence, transformation and restoration….Here’s where it all starts. On the day of Pentecost, God chose to pour out his Spirit, forever, on a whole community of people.

A Spirit-Filled First Baptist Church

So on Pentecost Sunday, let’s not limit our awareness of what the Spirit is doing to our own personal, interior experiences. Let’s take a look at the bigger picture as well. What is the Spirit doing amongst us as a people at First Baptist Church? What does it look like to experience our own Spirit-filling in relationship with others?

Let’s take a moment to think about that.

How are we enabled to be a community through whom God’s purposes are being accomplished in the world”? How do we live out of this story 2000 years later?

Just like those first believers at Pentecost, we too are empowered by the Spirit with gifts and abilities we did not know we had. By God’s Spirit, we are specially enabled to help transform our world in this time and in this place. The next question is, How?

Well, as a new member here, I can tell you that the diversity of this community is what stands out to me. We are a mixed group, and you know what? – It works. We work. We may disagree, we may argue and hurt each other once in awhile, but we also hear each other. We grow. We love. We press into God’s story and find ourselves there, together. We are empowered by the Holy Spirit to journey with each other, in all the richness of our diversity.

We are also a people who care a lot about stories – our own, others’, and most of all, God’s Great Story. Just like those first believers at Pentecost, we too have a Story to tell. We are a community that is actively learning how to live into and out of God’s story, and how to speak that Story into others’ lives. Today, we got to hear a piece of ---’s story, and to celebrate the journey she’s been on to discover her own place within God’s story.

And this, I believe, is what it means to be Jesus’ witnesses: yes, we are to heartily proclaim the risen Christ, but even more so we are to live out the reality that Christ has made for us – that God is breaking down walls, mending relationships and healing our world. By God’s Spirit, we are the gospel made flesh – loving, forgiving, restoring, and building relationships where there were none.

So, today on Pentecost Sunday, and as we enter the season that follows, let’s be attentive to what the Spirit is doing in this place, in and through this people. How is the Spirit inviting us to grow over these next 26 weeks?

Let’s take a moment now to sit with the Spirit, who lives in us, and gives life to this community. Take a deep breath and breathe in of the Spirit, who sets us aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant love (1). Let’s take a moment to put on those Glasses of Attentiveness and take a peek at just what manner of adventures the Spirit is up to in this place. And then I’ll close with a prayer (2).

***

O Holy Spirit, by whose breath

Life rises vibrant out of death;

Come to create, renew, inspire;

Come, kindle in our hearts your fire.

In you God’s energy is shown,

To us your varied gifts make known.

Teach us to speak, teach us to hear;

Yours is the tongue and yours the ear.

***

Benediction

Dearly loved people of God, may you find yourselves swept off your feet and into the adventure to which you have been called by God’s own Spirit – a great journey full of divine surprises and holy intrigue – and may you find here in this place companions for the journey, and encouragement for the path ahead.

***

(1) from a quote by Brennan Manning, which I initially included but had to cut: “The gospel is absurd and the life of Jesus is meaningless unless we believe that He lived, died, and rose again with but one purpose in mind: to make brand-new creation. Not to make people with better morals but to create a community of prophets and professional lovers, men and women who would surrender to the mystery of the fire of the Spirit that burns within, who would live in ever greater fidelity to the omnipresent Word of God, who would enter into the center of it all, the very heart and mystery of Christ, into the center of the flame that consumes, purifies, and sets everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant, furious love. This, my friend, is what it really means to be a Christian.” – Brennan Manning

(2) from the hymn, Oh Holy Spirit, By Whose Breath
(3) Please note that I've borrowed the title of this post ("When 2+2=5") from Barbara Brown Taylor, whom I've quoted within this sermon.

Accidental Agents and the Texture of the Kingdom

"And there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain."

So says God himself in the Book of Revelation: Here is what my redeemed, restored world will NOT look like. All of this crap will be gone – forever! It’s a comforting thought, a verse that has encouraged me in some of my darker days.

But I've only been getting half the point. These things - death, mourning, crying, pain - won't be there. What will be there in their absence? A recent rereading of this verse caught my imagination.

Not death, but...life! 

Not mourning, but...rejoicing! 

Not crying, but...laughing! 

Not pain, but...pleasure!

Not death, but life! Not only will we not die, but we will live – we will experience life in all its fullness and richness. What was broken when Adam and Eve sinned will be mended, redeemed – we will recover the full-bodied experience of life in harmony with God, each other and all of creation.

Not mourning, but rejoicing! All that once caused us to mourn will be gone: death, injustice, unkindness, un-fulfillment, greed, hunger, infertility, homelessness, disease, pollution, hypocrisy, deception, abuse, loneliness, selfishness, popularity contests. In place of all these things we’ll be able to rejoice in the shalom of God: life that is characterised by equity, kindness, fulfillment, generosity, feasting, truth, and community, to name just a few examples of what God thinks is worth rejoicing over.

Not crying, but laughing! As I tried to tease out a nuance of meaning for the opposite of crying as opposed to mourning, I came up with laughing. I’m pretty sure some kind of good belly-laughter will be going on in God’s redeemed world. I think there will be good jokes, and an ability to laugh at ourselves and with others in a way that evokes joy, not derision.

Not pain, but pleasure! And again, what is the opposite of pain – health? Yes, but I wondered if that’s aiming a bit too low – how about pleasure? Apart from pain and the brokenness that too often attaches itself to our experience of pleasure in the present, imagine the pleasure we’ll enjoy when there is only joy to be had – not guilt or condemnation or the risk of being rejected or hurt?

Life, rejoicing, laughing, pleasure: these are what life with God will look like. This is the texture of the kingdom. And this kingdom is not far off, but near. Here. We are kingdom-makers in the here and now, subversively turning the world on its head: what is broken is being mended, what is impure is being made pure, what is high is being brought low, and what is low is being lifted up.

And this leads to the question:

How are we agents of life, rejoicing, laughing and pleasure in our lives right now? 

And that might lead to the question:

Are we? 

Are we, who proclaim Christ, agents of life, rejoicing, laughing and pleasure, or are we accidental agents of something else, something that does not reflect God's deep love and good plan for the world?

Are we as the Church known for speaking words of life or for sucking it away 

through endless posturing and debate? 

Do our choices and actions bring life, or do they wound and injure and tear down? 

Do our imaginations make room for God’s amazing ability to redeem what is broken, 

or do they assume that large parts of this world are hopeless and doomed for destruction? 

Are we known as ones who rejoice in the knowledge that all are made in the image of God 

and loved by God, or as ones who choose instead to criticize, judge and condemn? 

Are we known for our sense of humour, as ones who find laughter and joy to be closely intertwined, 

or are we known more for our furrowed brows and disapproving glares? 

Are we known for our enjoyment of pleasure - as ones who experience God through good food, 

good art, good sex, and good work - or are we known as ones who fear pleasure 

and view it as being at odds with our spirituality? 

Most of us, I imagine, are a mixture of both - the good and the ugly, the holy and the base, the old and the new. We waffle between the reality of this world and the dream of the next, and stumble in the dissonance between the two. But God himself speaks these words to ignite the early church’s – and our – imaginations: "I am making everything new!" Here is what God is doing, and we’re a part of it! We are characters in God’s story, and we have a role to play in the unfolding of his kingdom, the realization of his dream. Start dreaming a little bigger, he says, let me stretch your imaginations to make room for all the grace and goodness I have for this world.

And so we pray: Let us be stretched! Let us make ever more room in our hearts and our minds and our world for life, rejoicing, laughing and pleasure, that the dream of God's kingdom may become reality!

The Questioners and The Comfortable: Toward a Healthy, Robust Community

There's a river, swift and raging and growing bigger every day, of people who are leaving: leaving church, leaving evangelicalism, leaving orthodoxy, leaving God altogether. They are wounded, cynical, discouraged, and angry. And more than a few of them are sad to be leaving, but feel there is no place left for them in the traditional church. The reasons are as varied as the people who make them, but there is one theme that flows like a strong undercurrent, forcefully lending speed to the waters. There is one accusation that recurs again and again, murmered, whispered, shouted, or thrown like a dagger to strike a mortal blow:

"My questions weren't welcome."

I have read so many stories of sincere and intelligent, tenderhearted people who were earnestly seeking to understand God and the Bible - people who asked honest, difficult questions - who were made to feel unwelcome by Those In Charge. Their questions, their very presence in the church, were viewed as a threat. Their struggles and doubt and openness to shades of gray were viewed as a disease, which, if given a voice, might spread and infect others in the church. Some were silenced. Others were asked or forced to leave. 

Not all of us have such scary questions. Some are content with a simple faith, one that doesn't ask much but trusts completely, and nestles into the comfort of unquestioning faith. Some have questions but have learned through trial and error which ones are safe to speak out loud, and which are better left unasked. Some have no questions left because they presume to have found all the answers. But others - a growing number in our postmodern age - are full to bursting with questions that cannot be silenced and will not be pacified with pat answers. 

The Church is full of people in the first three categories - these ones contribute to the stability of the Church. They guard orthodoxy as a treasure to be protected against contamination by impure doctrine. These faithful ones are committed to the church no matter what. 

The Church also has a smaller number of folks in the last category - they challenge the doctrines, the traditions, the assumptions, and the hypocrisies of the Church. In doing so, others may feel that they are challenging the stability of the Church. These "troublemakers" are committed to truth no matter what - whether or not it is found in a church. 

And somewhere along the way we have lost sight of the fact that we need each other. 

The Questioners need to be welcomed - fully - into the community of believers. They need friendship, authenticity, generosity, and freedom to be honest about their struggles. They need us to remember that God is bigger than our words, that God is mystery, and wrestling is one of the great verbs of the Christian life. They need us to be just a little more comfortable with doubt. They need our love and support as they journey toward faith and truth.

The Comfortable Ones need to be discomforted, to have their worlds shaken up a bit - for stability walks dangerously close to stagnation. They need to exercise gentleness and patience and humility so that they may hear from those who think differently. They need us to remember that God is working in them too, and so we must be gentle and patient with them as well - for having one's foundations shaken is very scary indeed. 

I find myself somewhere in between the two. I quite like being in the middle of these two groups. The Comfortable ground me in a faith that is ancient, that has arisen amongst of a vast community of saints. The Questioners challenge me to step beyond what is comfortable, to broaden the path a bit, and lengthen my stride, and find that perhaps God is bigger than I'd allowed him to be before. 

Let's not part ways with our brothers and sisters who think differently from us. Let's remember that we are all journeying together, and we've each something to learn from the other.

Real wisdom, God’s wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honor. - James 3:17-18 (Message)

***

PS - I was excited to find a recent post by Addie Zimmerman, who spells out in so much more compelling detail what the cynics need from the church. Please, give it a read: An Open Letter to the Church: How to Love the Cynics. 

Is There Childcare in the Desert?

I wrote up a rather passionate post last week, but in the end I decided it was a good vent, but a bad post. As Steve pointed out to me, it'll need a few more drafts. Stay tuned.

--

In the meantime, I've decided to tell you about the great new book I mentioned in my last post, titled In the Midst of Chaos by Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore. Let me begin by saying This Book is Awesome!! I've only read the first fifty-something pages, but I'm savoring it as I go, luxuriating in the feeling of releasing some of my previous ideas about what constitutes or contributes to true and meaningful spirituality. The guilt is lifting, by degrees.

Even the preface made me feel encouraged. Here's how she concludes her introduction:

Now I release this book, imperfections and all, and bless it on its way to you. Rather than additional burden or guilt, I hope it will free you to practice your faith more abundantly, loving those around you in the midst of life's craziness and letting go of failures, faults, limitations, and sorrows to live more deeply in grace. (xx)

In Chapter 1, Contemplating in Chaos, Miller-McLemore challenges the pervasive belief that spiritual transformation of the highest order happens in solitude: peaceful, prayerful, and silent. We have romanticized and idolized the stations of monk, pastor, or ascetic as the most suited to spiritual growth and development. People such as these have the necessary space to make room for God in a way that your average parent of children simply can't...or so we've often been led to believe. As a new mom and inexperienced Bible Study leader of a group of moms, I once brought up Martin Luther's comments regarding his prayer life in the midst of busyness. He wasn't too busy to pray, he said, rather his busyness was exactly why he needed to pray, on average, 2-3 hours a day. I cringe at the memory of the guilt I must've inflicted on these women (myself included).

They really do melt in your mouth,
not in your hand!

My spiritual director gave me a book once that talked about the "gremlins" that we give voice to in our heads, the distorted perspectives which can lead us astray if we pay too much attention. The one which I most identified with was called "Little Miss What The Hell". Little Miss What The Hell sets up a Grand Plan for herself, but the moment even one details goes awry, she gives it all up and goes back to the way she was before. It's the reason why I tend to have a messy house (if it can't be pristine, why bother?) and have trouble with diets (I ate that one M&M, what the hell, I'll eat the entire bag!). It's a recipe for failure, and it plays out in my spiritual life as well: If I can't get away and into nature (or the desert, as with the ascetic), or in a dimly lit room with candles and quiet, then there's just no way I can cultivate my spiritual life.

I came by my idealizations honestly. Miller-McLemore points out that "Christian perception of faith as something that happens outside ordinary time and within formal religious institutions, or within the private confines of one's individual soul, still pervades Western society...By and large...twentieth-century theologians continue to look past the sheer messiness of daily family life." (7)

If silence or solitude are required for deep soul-growth, then parenting pretty much shuts that door completely. I don't even get solitude to go to the bathroom, let alone to pray, and as Miller-McLemore points out, on those rare occasions when we do get a bit of silence, we're usually too tired to do much other than pass out on the couch in a heap.

Miller-McLemore tells the story of a Harvard Divinity School lecture on the Desert Fathers,
to which an audience member responded by asking the cheeky question,
"Is there childcare in the desert?"

And yet, despite our weariness with the basic matters of survival as parents of children who need us, we feel guilty for not doing more. For not cutting our short nights even shorter by arising early to do our devotions, for not being as intentional as we feel we ought to be about those spiritual disciplines we just can't find the time - or the desire - to do. Our obsession with extricating ourselves from all that is not explicitly "spiritual" and trying to take on that which we think is, results in our "demeaning the external, the bodily, the earthy, and the material and obscuring their actual connection to our real self and our authentic spirituality." (5)

So, what does it look like to honour "the external, the bodily, the earthy and the material"? How are these things connected to "our real self and our authentic spirituality"? How do we move beyond the idea of pursuing spiritual transformation primarily by introducing specific disciplines such as prayer and solitude into our lives (which still inherently imply that the only spirituality available to the parent occurs by way of a momentary escape from parenting)? Miller-McLemore writes,

Go, go, go, GO!!!!

One participates in these disciplines "despite" or "regardless" of the chaos. They still assume one meets God in a quiet inner space. 

What I am trying to describe, instead, is a wisdom that somehow emerges in the chaos itself, stops us dead in our tracks, and heightens our awareness. (19-20)

She concludes by pointing to a previously featured bookmeal author, Brother Lawrence, who viewed one's actions as capable of becoming a form of prayer in and of themselves. I'm looking forward to seeing how she fleshes out this idea in a twenty-first century context over the next eight chapters.

What about you? What are your perceived prerequisites for spiritual growth? Are they feasible in your life as a parent, or do they make you feel defeated or incapable? How could the "externals" in your life take on sacred meaning?