(co-)Mingling with God

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

The quote from Hamlet is generally taken to mean that one’s perspective determines everything. But could it also mean that we can cultivate either good or bad with our thinking? Bellaruth Naparstek is a psychotherapist who over the past 3 decades has developed and popularized a mind-body therapy called guided-imagery, which is akin to self-hypnosis. Guided imagery involves intentional, self-directed daydreaming to conjure pleasant sensory experiences in the mind’s eye.

There are over 200 studies in peer-reviewed medical journals reporting positive outcomes for guided imagery in a variety of fields ranging from pain management, stroke recovery, orthopedic surgery, oncology, psychiatry, and sports medicine. For instance, patients who use guided imagery before receiving chemotherapy have more robust white blood cells. A guided imagery practice before surgery results in less post-operative nausea and reduced blood loss. As Naparstek writes in her book, “Staying Well With Guided Imagery” (Grand Central Life & Style, copyright 1994) “images of the mind are real events to the body.” Just as a painful memory can raise blood pressure and accelerate one’s heart rate, so can the remembered smell of a grandparent, or scenes from a childhood home, or the feel of the sun on skin result is a calmer, more resilient nervous system.

The corollary is worry, which is like un-guided imagery, or a bad trip. When we worry, we are - after all - casting our mind’s eye into the future and conjuring images of negative outcomes. The human mind is a powerful thing. Maybe in prayer we step beyond the spatial and temporal limitations of our own minds to co-mingle with God’s consciousness. We allow God to transform the worry into peace. We let God hear our wishes and weave them into a grander plan whose scope we cannot see or understand. We ask for forgiveness and our hearts are changed. This is a co-mingling worth cultivating.

-Frances Baxley

This Is Our Time

Luke 13:1-9

13 Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.” Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree growing in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’ “‘Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.’”

“….Sister, there are people who went to sleep all over the world last night, poor and rich and white and black, but they will never wake again. Sister, those who expected to rise did not, their beds became their cooling boards, and their blankets became their winding sheets. And those dead folks would give anything, anything at all for just five minutes of this….” Maya Angelou, retelling a teachable moment from her childhood, delivered by her grandmother.

“We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love…and then we return home.” Queen Elizabeth II, quoting an Aboriginal proverb in the 59th year of her reign

This is our time and life is short. We’re reminded of this as we look around and remember some who were with us last Easter but aren’t with us this season.

In Luke we hear of two groups, really three.

The first group’s life was cut short in a gruesome and terrible way as the secular power of the day tried to exert their dominance. The act was meant to shock and it did…how could God let good people be killed as they were worshipping him?

The second died in a senseless accident when a tower fell on them…so random, why them and not me?

The third group is the rest of us, still here but perplexed…trying to draw lessons from tragedy….wondering why…what it all means. Why do the good die young?…Was he wearing his seatbelt?

Different circumstances, but all three groups from the story are now gone. Gone with them is their ability to make amends or change directions. Christ reminds us that our time, this life, is temporary for everyone. We need to refocus on the eternal, adjust and be fruitful with the time we have - a strange mix of peaceful calm perspective and urgency.

A fig tree takes 3-5 years after it’s planted to bear fruit. After that many can be productive for 100-200 years… long after the landowner and the gardener are gone. A fig tree can bear fruit for 200 years but no one knows how much time it has been given in this particular case. Maybe more than 200, but maybe only 1.

Time to be fruitful.

-Joel Staffilino

Go Among Trees and Sit Still by Wendell Berry

I go among trees and sit still.

All my stirring becomes quiet

Around me like circles on water.

My tasks lie in their places

Where I left them, asleep like cattle…

Then what I am afraid of comes.

I live for a while in its sight.

What I fear in it leaves it,

And the fear of it leaves me.

It sings, and I hear its song.

Grounded

Soil stories are God’s stories. This was the key message for us this week, delivered by Nathan Stucky, head of the Farminary at Princeton Theological Seminary. In a Lenten season in which our church is focused on cultivation, Stucky wanted us not to miss the central role that the ground, dirt, and soil play in Biblical text. To understand God, he seemed to say, we need to start with the earth under our feet.

This was the perfect week for John and me to receive this message. A home renovation project required what our contractor euphemistically described as the need to “trench” out to the sewer line at the street. I left one morning for coffee and a series of meetings, front yard still intact, and I returned later that day to find a large canyon where my front yard had been. A hole, twelve feet deep, had been dug to reach the line, and our yard was filled with massive mounds of dirt. The piles of earth were beautiful in their way – variegated browns and tans, and shaggy with upturned roots. But they were also unsettling. That night, as we were getting into bed, John admitted he found the whole thing weirdly depressing. I had to agree. We felt, in both the literal and figurative sense, ungrounded.

All that sustains our life – from the food we eat, to the place we make our home – depends upon the generous productivity and stability of the earth. It took only one day of having our yard overturned and destroyed to make clear to us how much we take for granted the literal grounded reality that makes our daily lives possible. Unfortunately, so it is with God’s goodness – a goodness that can, in my own life, be too easily taken for granted. Though I hate to admit it, it is often only in times of fear or disruption that I realize how much I rely on my faith to give shape and meaning to my days. I forget that God is there, day in and day out, foundational to all I do.

Lent begins with the reminder that from dust we have come and to dust we shall return. We are, through the grace of God, a grounded people. In this season of cultivation, may we start first with renewed gratitude for the earth beneath our feet – for its constancy, its generosity and its unassuming presence in our life.

-Susie Pratt

Nature, Nurture, and Gratitude by Foster Pratt

The first thing you learn in psychology is that our development is guided by two things, the genes we’re born with, and the environment we exist in. Our nature, the genes, and our nurture, the environment. This debate of Nature v.s. Nurture has been an unresolved discussion for many years in the field of psychology but it’s pretty widely accepted that it’s not cut and dry. We are not dedicated by our genes or our environment, but rather it is factors of both that create the people we are/we become.

Last week, my AP Psych class spent 90 minutes discussing different aspects of identity to determine if nature or nurture plays a bigger role in our development. We were asked to think about personality, criminality, and sexuality. But almost every time, we come to the idea that nurture plays a much grander role than nature.

I suppose I should elaborate on “nurture” in this context. I should also mention that I’m no psychologist or expert in any way, but I did get a 94% on the most recent test, so I’ll let you be the judge. In psychology, nurture refers to the different aspects of one’s environment during development that contribute to the person they become. This could come from the people who raise us, the access to education, basic nutrition, health care, even down to the physical aspects of the environment, like local temperature, landscape, and wildlife. All of these factors play some aspect in the shaping of our psychological development.

When looking back at how nurture plays out in our lives both in a faithful and psychological way, there’s only one word that comes to mind, gratitude. Speaking personally here, because that’s all I can speak to, I’m extremely grateful for all the people who nurtured me, the places where I was nurtured, and the resources I had available to me. Even though I’m not a helpless toddler anymore (though my brothers may disagree) I still find that I’m nurtured everyday by the people around me. 

I’m afraid I don’t have anything profound to say about this topic, no ground breaking, life changing advice from a young perspective, but I’ll leave you with this. Do think you haven’t been nurtured since you were a child, and don’t stop nurturing those around you. Nurture your relationships, your knowledge, your health, and your faith. Thank you. 

-Foster Pratt

The Gift of Nurture

So if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation –2 Corinthians 5:17a

This week we’ve taken up the theme of nurture, the process of caring for and encouraging the growth or development of someone or something. We nurture all kinds of things, from plants to people. We spend time watering and feeding, guiding and weeding. We worry and fret. Am I watering enough? Am I guiding in the right direction? This nurturing business, it turns out, is a demanding business.

And to what end do we take up this business of nurturing? For a flower to blossom? A boy to become a man?

The birth of our first child was like a scene from a movie. It was the middle of the night when Heather announced that she thought her water had broke. The walk to the hospital from our apartment would take three minutes, but it seemed a little much to ask a 9-month pregnant woman, whose water had just broke, to walk through the neighborhood at 3am. Better take the car!

I was so focused on getting us to the hospital that I almost forgot the ‘us’! Thankfully, Heather kept up and we made the short drive to the hospital. We arrived and I expected to be holding our first child in a matter of minutes. Owen, as we would come to discover, would arrive in their own time. So, we waited. And waited. And waited.

Owen didn’t make much noise when they arrived. They didn’t need to. Their beautiful presence was enough for me to realize my world had changed forever.

So, we got busy with the business of nurturing. We’ve fed and guided. Worried and wondered. And through it all, I’ve learned at least one lesson. Nurturing is about giving of one’s self so that another self can become what God intended it to be.

As a parent, I had hopes and dreams of what life for my children might be, who they might become. Nurturing, it seems, allows them to become who they’re truly meant to be – something way beyond my imagination. God is clever and creative that way!

The gift of nurturing is to participate in that thing God has been doing since the dawn of creation – creating space for new life to flourish. Nurturing, it turns out, is an end unto itself.

I pray you find meaning in the gift of nurture this Lent season.

-Pastor Ken

Fearless Living

Razi and I enjoyed the rare treat last weekend of getting to watch Josie celebrate her fifth birthday at the Jambin’ Jungle indoor playroom in Highland Park. It had been many years since I watched young children at play. Exuberant is the best word I can find to describe the energy in the room. There was much shouting and leaping and dancing. Josie led way. “Now we‘ll hammer! Everyone hammer!“ At her words, the children each grabbed a tonka tool and started hammering for the sake of hammering. “Now we‘ll go down the slide BACKWARDS!“ and so it was. They all lined up to scootch down the slide rear-first. Razi looked at me at one point and observed, “Little kids talk with such authority!“

I had been wondering what to write about for this week‘s scripture passage and it came to me with his observation. These kids have such confidence because their parents do everything in their power to create an environment where they can play without fear. Heads will get bonked, and knees will get skinned. The world is not, after all, a safe place. But with kisses and bandaids on hand to ease the hurt, kids play without feeling afraid. Imagine if adolescents and adults were able to preserve this confidence and to treat life like play. “Now I will quit my job!” “Now I will start my own business!“ “Now I will get married!“ There’s no question that the circumspection and caution that come with maturity are good things, but the image of Jesus as mother hen is a reminder that God wants us to live without fear. With faith that we are sheltered by something immovable and constant, we can take risks and make commitments without knowing where they will lead. Jesus didn’t run from that fox Herod, but instead stayed and completed his mission on God‘s terms. Nor should we run from experiences that could bring physical and emotional wounds. With the mother hen metaphor, Jesus offers us freedom to inhabit the present moment. "Be here now. Walk the curving path of this precious life. The fox is there, but I am with you.“

-Frances Baxley

He's Here for You

As a boy, I spent a week each Summer on the Barker’s farm. For breakfast, the other boys and I would try to snatch eggs from under the hens as they sat on their perches.

As you reached in, the hens would peck so fast that you never saw it coming. After a while this turned into a bit of a timing/skill/bravery game. We’d keep count of the strikes and compare our scabs and battle wounds.

We were never a match against the hens. Maybe they had more to loose than we had to gain. Maybe the chickens had more timing/skill/bravery(brains??) than a bunch of nine year old boys.

The Pharisees say, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.” I hear: ‘You better do what we want or our big brother is going to come and beat you up’. We know the threat was real. Jesus and the people listening at the time knew it was real.

Herod the Great, who ruled at Jesus’ birth, had died. His sons and sister split the kingdom up with Rome’s approval. Herod Antipas was given this region as a “client king” and was proving to be more paranoid and unbalanced than his father.

Herod was suppressing various tribal and religious rebellions. He was also dealing with maneuvering by his extended family to gain more of dad’s territory for themselves. Herod made things worse by marrying his sister in-law, adding a personal vendetta to his family strife. Jesus’ cousin had criticized this marriage, was imprisoned and later executed.

Herod would do whatever it took to retain his position. The Pharisees knew this and exploited the fear to retain control. Jesus understood the danger, the struggle and significance of what is to come. The fox is real and he might not escape its jaws.

Jesus doesn’t waver. He doesn’t try to find a negotiated solution. He doesn’t play politics and try to balance all the factions off each other. He doesn’t lighten up the message and save the heavy stuff for later.

He knows why he is here.

He says why he is here

He’s brave and is committed to his mission.

He’s here for us.

A hen will defend her chicks against all sorts of dangers…..foxes, snakes, hawks, nine year old city kids. The displays of bravery are amazing. Many times they work and keep the flock together.

But at some point if the danger is too great, she is outnumbered, or the benefit isn’t worth the cost……the hen will retreat and save herself.

She’s her own mission, the eggs and chicks only a part. She can always lay another egg. If she saves most of the chicks, she’s done pretty well all things considered.

In his mission, Christ is quite different. He’s here to give his life for each of us. Later in Luke we see that if he has 100 sheep, he’ll leave the 99 to rescue the 1 that is missing.

He’s here for you.

-Joel Staffilino

Invitation by Shel Silverstein

Invitation

If you are a dreamer, come in

If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,

A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...

If you're a pretender, come sit by the fire

For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.

Come in!

Come in!

Nurture: The Art of Seeing Beyond

In writing about a difficult graduate school experience, the poet Tracy K. Smith tells the following story, “Once…this elder poet came close to actually nurturing something in me. After the relentless dissecting and dismembering of a poem I’d submitted…this woman, the great poet professor, had said, ‘One day it’s going to be a good poem.’…which by that time did almost feel like something.”

Nurturing people are gifted with a different kind of sight, an ability to see beyond what is to what could be. The best example of I know of this is Kathy, a beloved teacher from my children’s preschool. Much to my continued amazement, each day in her classroom Kathy would greet every child with what only could be described as unconditional love. From those tearfully clinging to their mothers to those who threw down their backpacks to jump into the fray, Kathy welcomed them all. On days (and there were some) when I felt like barely slowing down the car to unload a surly child, there stood Kathy, open-armed and welcoming, filled with joy to see him.

Not only did she see and love each child for simply showing up, Kathy saw the specific good in each of our kids. Pick-up would come with detailed stories about our children – their small kindnesses, their budding interests. It was as though Kathy had on some magic set of glasses that allowed her to see past our children’s snotty noses and yelling voices, and instead see the people they had the potential to be. Like the elder poet in the opening story, Kathy was reassuring us: “One day he’s going to be great.”

The central image of this week’s text, as Ken referenced in his sermon, is a nurturing one - a mother hen. Despite their outright rejection of him, Jesus tells us here how he longs to take the children of Jerusalem “under his wing.” Seeing their goodness and potential, he expresses a hope to protect them, to heal them. Like Kathy, he is waiting to greet them with open arms. He is not met with kindness in return.

Moving through the world can be a lot like dealing with a room full of critics or preschoolers, or – for that matter – Pharisees. Hard and hurtful. The easier route would be to meet rejection with rejection, to take our ball and go home. Alas, this is not the behavior Jesus models for us. Instead, seeing past the anger and scorn, he insists on continuing his healing work. I believe God is asking the same of us. To see past the problem of the other and to dwell instead in their potential. To enter into our relationships with open-armed love. This is not easy work, but it is the work of nurture. And it is work our world desperately needs.

-Susie Pratt