New Beginnings

The one who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.”–Revelations 21:5

Click to enlarge--Butterfly near fountain at Eagan's Central Park--photo by Julie McCarty, 2011 All rights reserved.

The other day I was walking at Eagan’s Central Park and stopped to take pictures of this butterfly in front of the fountain. We had a little dance going: she would move her wings, I would, quick-snap-the-picture, while in the meantime she moved before the picture was complete. After awhile I tried to predict her next move, but I was mostly one step behind the lovely flying creature. 

Butterflies always remind me of new life, new opportunities, new chances to try to be something different or become a better person. How the caterpillar goes from one stage to the next inside its cocoon is certainly mysterious–and so it is with us humans, although we often miss the many ways we grow and change, even as adults.

In the book of Revelations, John has a vision of a new heavens and earth. He is told by God, “Behold, I make all things new.” Although this passage is about the coming kingdom at the end of time, it is also true that God brings about newness in our own lives, our own time–if only we let him. When we say “thy kingdom come,” we mean not only in some distant future in heaven, but also in the sense of bringing God’s will and compassion to life in the here and now.

School will be starting soon–or has already begun–in many places throughout the country. Sometimes I think that the starting of a new school year is more of a “new year” than January 1. New teachers, new books, new clothes, new classes–a new start on life. Even if you are not in school, many activities that were set aside for summer come to life once again in September.

What newness of life does God want for me, for you, at this particular point in our lives? What concrete steps might we take to cooperate with God’s desire for our lives? What single choice might I make this day to bring about a better world, at least in my little corner of it, just for today?

Click to enlarge--Open Butterfly--photo by Julie McCarty, 2011. All rights reserved.

New Sharing Features on the Spiritual Drawing Board

Sharing a meal at the Minnesota Zoo -- photo by Julie McCarty

See something here at the Spiritual Drawing Board you would like to share with someone you know? At the end of each post there is now a “Share This” section. You can email the post to a friend, print a copy off to share with your small faith group, or send a message on your social network.

(At the moment, I’m having trouble using the new print feature using Internet Explorer 9, but I was able to print it using Google Chrome or Mozilla Firefox. Perhaps your computer will sail through the process. Hopefully WordPress will be fixing that soon.)

By the way, it’s fine with me if you print a copy for your own personal growth, or share with others in your bible study group, college course, or similar setting. If you would like to reprint material found here in other publications or online,  please contact me for permission before printing or republishing in any format, including the web. (It’s okay to quote small portions or place links from other sites.) See the “about” page for more details. When in doubt, please contact me with your questions.

For quick feedback, there is also a “like this” button at the end of each post.

Happy sharing–and God bless you! 
  –Julie McCarty, author of the Spiritual Drawing Board

Jesus, Saint Clare, and the Gospel of Prosperity

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.  —Mark 10:21-22.

Today is the feast of Saint Clare of Assisi (1194-1253), a Christian who fully embraced these words of Jesus. A young woman from a wealthy family, Clare gave up a luxurious lifestyle at age 18 in response to the preaching of the now-famous Francis of Assisi. Like Francis, her goal was to embody the gospel message completely, to imitate Christ so much that her life might become a sort of mirror image of the Savior.

In founding the Poor Clares, a religious order of women who follow Franciscan ideals, Clare made living a life of utter simplicity or “holy poverty,” a foundational principle. Clare wanted to be free of all that might keep her from experiencing the fullness of Christ in her life.

That is not to say that poverty is a glorious thing. It is not glamorous or desirable to be forced into poverty. The Lord does not want people to starve. The key thing here is that those with much wealth and many material things (and most Americans fit into this category) can become so attached to these things that they focus their lives on obtaining more and more things or money rather than focusing their hearts on God.

The man in the gospel reading above goes away “shocked and grieving”–he can’t  believe his ears. He’s kept all the commandments and now Jesus wants him to get rid of his treasured possessions. This man probably spent his whole life amassing those possessions, maintaining them with repair and upkeep, and protecting them from thieves. His “things” were probably his main focus–and Jesus encourages him to get rid of them.

In her time, Clare took these words of Christ very seriously. I’m trying to imagine what this teaching means in our lives today. Certainly Christ desires that we have basic food and shelter. After all, he taught us to pray, “give us this day, our daily bread.” But I rather doubt Christ would want many of us (if any) to pray “give us this day, increased stock dividends,” or “save me from higher taxes.”

Yet, some Christian speakers of today give the impression that following Christ is a recipe for wealth, success, and earthly power. If you pray the right way, or donate to the right ministry, money will come back to you in return. This is known as the “gospel of prosperity.”

I wonder, how does one reconcile the gospel of prosperity with these words of Jesus telling the man to sell all he owned? To build up treasure, not in bank accounts, powerful cars or sleek electronic gadgets (confession: I just bought a Kindle), but rather “treasure in heaven”?

Saint Clare was counter-cultural when she dared to say no to her parents’ plan for her life (prestigious marriage, no doubt) and took up instead the cross of Christ in holy poverty. She even stood her ground on this issue when church officials wanted to release her from her vow of holy poverty because they thought it too strenuous for a woman. “Release me from my sins,” she said, “but never from the vow of holy poverty,” or something to that effect (I regret I can’t find where I read this).

Today we are bombarded with messages that would lead us away from the true way of Christ, some of them coming from people who call themselves “Christian.” May we have the courage of Clare, even when it means giving up wealth, power, or prestige for the sake of the gospel.

Spiritual Aerobics

Think about your possessions. Is there something you own that you could give to someone in need? Perhaps a closet filled with things you never use? Magazines? School supplies? Dishes? A table? Socks? Suitcases? Phones? Radios? Winter coats? School clothes? Books? A musical instrument or sports equipment? Blankets?

Miracles Begin with Compassion

When Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. –Matthew 14:14

While listening to Pastor Kevin Olson’s sermon at Easter Lutheran Church this past Sunday, one sentence he said particularly struck me: “Every miracle begins with compassion.”

How different Jesus is from many public figures of our time–he did not work miracles merely to show his great spiritual power, create “special effects,” or convince others he was the Messiah. Jesus was not a politician trying to drive up his approval ratings or a celebrity seeking more media exposure.

Jesus was motivated by compassion. In Matthew 14, the passage read on Sunday, Jesus has just heard about the death of his cousin John the Baptist. He responds by going off to a deserted spot to pray, and, I imagine, have a little downtime to grieve.

But people want to see Jesus so much that they go out of their way to find him. When his prayer time is interrupted, Jesus doesn’t rebuke them or send them away. Out of love, he sets aside his own agenda and calmly responds to their needs.

This is one way that Jesus and I differ. When I am interrupted in my work or prayer, I don’t always respond that well. Pastor Kevin reminded us that spiritual writer Henri Nouwen pointed out that our true mission is sometimes found in the interruptions themselves. Our real ministry is not only in the “work” we do, but in the midst of people who come our way and “interrupt” us.

Jesus’ compassion doesn’t end at the end of the work shift, either. After a long day of interacting with the crowd, which has now grown to 5,000 (not counting the women and children), the disciples remind Jesus it’s getting late and no one has eaten. They suggest Jesus punch out for the day by telling the people to go to the nearby village to get something to eat.

But Jesus’ compassion for others is so great that he doesn’t want to risk people not getting fed due to lack of money or lack of resources (would a village really have enough food for thousands of people without advance notice?). So he tells the disciples:

You give them something to eat.

The disciples, of course, objected to this impractical—no, make that completely unreasonable—idea. They have some concern for the crowd’s needs, but this idea of feeding the crowd themselves seems ridiculous.

Nevertheless, Jesus asks the disciples to bring him what they have, the now-famous five loaves and two fish. Jesus blesses it and the disciples begin to offer it to others, and, as you know, the food in some miraculous way multiplies to feed them all.

I know I am like those disciples. I sometimes see other people’s needs and feel compassion but stop short of doing anything. I want to help them, but like the disciples, part of me wants to send the suffering away to get help someplace else.

There are many people suffering in our world today who need our compassion. There are those who are unemployed or under-employed, the sick and starving, the battered and war-torn, and the list goes on and on. Each of us, by ourselves, cannot undo all the problems of the world, nor does God expect us to do so.

However, too often we use the vastness of the problems to keep us from doing anything at all. Like Jesus’ disciples who wanted to send the hungry crowd away to fend for themselves, we want to send the suffering away—let someone else deal with the problem.

But Jesus didn’t send people away empty. He filled their lives with healing, love, meaning, and yes, food for their bodies. Through the words of Scripture, Jesus tells us again today:

You give them something to eat.

 Until next time, Amen!

Spiritual Aerobics

The word “compassion” comes from roots that mean to stand with someone in their suffering. The compassionate person is willing to journey with another who is experiencing pain, agony, confusion, or other trials. Who do you know that is suffering these days? How would Jesus express compassion for this person? Is there something you could do for him or her?

Enuma Okuro’s “Reluctant Pilgrim”

 

You have made us for yourself, O God, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.– Saint Augustine, in the Confessions

Earlier this year I attended a women’s retreat led by spiritual writer Enuma Okuro. When I first signed up for the retreat, I knew almost nothing about Enuma, but I wanted to meet other women in my latest experiment with finding a church home, and the lure of meeting another spiritual writer in the flesh was more than I could resist.

The weekend retreat was a good experience, and one of the many blessings was seeing Enuma in action. She has what I would call a genuine spiritual presence in an honest, creative, and faithful-to-God way. I couldn’t get over the way she got all of us engaged in creative activities and sharing despite the fact that hardly any of us would normally think of ourselves as very “creative” or “artistic.” 

More recently, I finally had the chance to read Enuma’s book Reluctant Pilgrim–and, frankly, all I can say is, wow.

I don’t want to tell you too much about the book because I think it’s better to read it without a lot of preconceived ideas. However, the subtitle gives the main focus of the book: A Moody, Somewhat Self-Indulgent Introvert’s Search for Spiritual Community. Enuma hungers for God, but calls herself “half-graced” because, although she was baptised Catholic, she was never confirmed and feels she is missing something, the adult faith commitment and the feeling of belonging to a community of believers. But, to what church should she go? Where will she find a spiritual home, a faith community? To say her background is varied is an understatement. Although her first years of memory were spent in Queens, New York, she is never quite sure how to explain where she is “from”:

Once we moved back to West Africa, I was introduced to my first mosque, and the rest of my early childhood was lost in a whirling dervish of Hail Marys and muezzin cries to holy prayer. I was raised by a Catholic father, an Anglican, somewhat evangelical mother, and endless Muslim aunts, who called on both Jesus and Allah within the same breath, depending on the circumstances. I ran into God beneath the billowing skirts of Catholicism and Islam while learning the cultural steps of being a foreigner in my native country. When people ask me where I’m from, I fumble for answers, take a deep breath, and exhale with, “I was born in the States, but my parents are Nigerian, and I grew up in four different countries. But currently I live in (insert current city of residence) so that’s where I’m from, I guess. (page 17)

Reluctant Pilgrim is a fresh look at the Christian journey in the midst of today’s multicultural, multi-religious, multi-spiritual and even doubting world. It taps into the human hunger for God with the frank admission that we often resist this hunger, and our spiritual communities often seem–at least on the surface–lacking this hunger for union with the divine. 

To get a small taste of this book and Enuma’s honest, creative style, view the YouTube trailer below. I found myself pondering the spiritual mystery of God and God’s presence in others just watching the preview!

(If this YouTube video does not print in your email subscription, just google “Reluctant Pilgrim” and “YouTube” and look for the trailer.)

Until next time, Amen!

Prayer of Saint Francis

In our broken and hurting world, the Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi reminds me what is really important in life. The words of the prayer have the attitude and mind of Christ, who did not seek fame or glory, but rather sought to love and serve others.

The Prayer of Saint Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.
 
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
 
There is a beautiful visual mediation of this prayer on YouTube using the music of Christian musician John Michael Talbot (video by heywaldojr). The photos that accompany this 4 minute song make a wonderful prayer meditation, a good break from the work of the day (if commercials appear, just click on the X to get rid of them):
 
If you cannot see the above video, click on the following link or copy and paste the link into your browser:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXyYm1yIL-g  — or google “Prayer of Saint Francis” and “John Michael Talbot”

Hope this video brings a smile to your heart–I know it did mine.

Until next time,

Amen! 

Book Winner Announcement

We have a winner for the e-mail subscription contest (see May 4 post). Congratuations to Barbara Keffer, of Roseville, Minnesota, who is the winner of the book Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals. Happy praying!    –Julie

The Jesus Prayer

“Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

As I mentioned last time, I’m  involved in a small faith group this summer which is exploring various ways to pray. We are using the book Creating a Life with God: The Call of Ancient Prayer Practices by Daniel Wolpert (Upper Room Books).

"Christ the Pantocrator--Jesus Creator of All" --Icon by Marian Zidaru 2002--photo by JAMThis week I finished reading the chapter that focuses on the Jesus Prayer.  This ancient way of praying reminds us of God’s presence through praying the words the blind man shouted out to Jesus as he passed by: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Mark 10:47)

The exact wording of this prayer can vary. Some pray, “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner” or other similar words. I once met a nun who simply prays two words in a slow, meditative fashion, sometimes in rhythm with her breath, “Jesus, mercy.”

This way of praying is not done in order to earn salvation or win God’s favor by repetitive prayer. The short prayer is used to draw one’s attention to God’s love, mercy, and presence in our lives, whether we are eating, sleeping, working, or sitting in church praying. Praying in this way draws our hearts and minds away from trivial, passing things, and into the realm of God’s presence, seeking to follow the instruction of First Thessalonians to “pray without ceasing” (5:17).

While reading Wolpert’s book, I was touched by the way he described praying the Jesus Prayer in the wee hours of the night:

One of the best times for me to pray the Jesus Prayer is at night when I cannot sleep. Rather than tossing and turning and getting upset that I am still awake, I simply begin to pray the Jesus Prayer. Remember that the pilgrim was told to pray the prayer even in his sleep! Often I do fall asleep right away. The times when sleep comes more slowly are wonderful periods of prayer. In the deep silence of the night, I can lift my heart and mind to my Creator—a soft voice ringing out into the infinite.

“Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.” 

I, too, on occasion have prayed this prayer in the middle of the night. I like to do the short form, in time with gentle, slow breathing: “Jesus” (while gently inhaling) and “mercy” (while gently exhaling).  It’s like inhaling the presence of God and asking for God’s love and mercy all at once…mercy for my sins, mercy for the one who has hurt me, mercy for the sick and suffering, mercy for the broken and hurting world all around us.

If you think that this prayer practice is nothing but sweetness and light, think again: it is not always so. During an interview I did one time for an article on the Jesus Prayer, an Orthodox priest told me the this prayer form “is no picnic.” He explained that if one is serious about the Jesus Prayer, practicing it in the context of truly following Christ, Christ the Pantocrator -- Jesus Creator of All -- Detail --2002 Icon by Marian Zidaru -- photo by JAMthe prayer gradually leads a person to recognize his or her own impurities of word, thought, and deed that previously went unnoticed. This awareness of our own sins and imperfections leads us into a gradually deepening conversion process.

The Jesus Prayer, this priest observed, “is an effective tool in the very difficult work of gaining control of one’s mind in order to center it on the constant remembrance of divine beauty and awakening it to the eternal realities of the Spirit.” The process makes it possible for us to become “servants of divine Compassion, students of the Lord, studying how to die to ego, so that we might be reborn as children of the Spirit.”

“Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

Until next time, Amen!

Invitation: Contemplative Spiritual Practices Group

Sunrise beach walk--photo by Julie McCarty--click to enlarge

Every now and then, I find I have to do something to spice up my relationship with God. Like any relationship, God and I can get stuck in a rut, take things for granted, or let things go a little stale. Of course, it’s not really God who is letting things flounder, but rather I am the one who gets a little lazy or distracted.   (Sometimes the feeling of boredom or being stuck in a rut in prayer can really be God calling one to a deeper way of prayer—but that is the subject of another article.)

One way I hope to put a little pizazz into my prayer life this summer is by meeting with a small faith group to explore various contemplative spiritual practices. For six sessions, meeting every other week, we will be exploring different ways from the Christian tradition to pray and relate to God.

We will be meeting every other Wednesday beginning on June 29th, from 7:00 to 8:30 at a member’s home. Because of my background and training in this area, I will be facilitating the first few meetings. This group is part of the small group ministry at Easter Lutheran Church (ELCA) here in Eagan, Minnesota, but one does not have to be a member in order to join us. So you are welcome to attend if you are interested.

To begin with, the book we will be using is called Creating a Life with God: The Call of Ancient Prayer Practices by Daniel Wolpert. The author lives up in the area of Crookston, MN, and is a church pastor with many  credentials and experience in teaching Christian prayer. We’ll be looking at only 2 chapters per meeting so as to allow time between sessions to experiment with prayer on your own. The book is available from Amazon, Border’s, and Barnes and Noble for about $11. Local stores would probably order it for you. Topics include how to pray using short passages from Scripture, journaling, praying in nature, integrating prayer and life experience, finding God in silence, and other topics. The book is very helpful, but you do not have to obtain it before the first meeting.

Creating a Life with God explains how to pray with Scripture using the ancient Christian method called lectio divina (sacred reading), the Jesus Prayer, entering into silence and solitude, finding God in day-to-day experiences, journaling, the role of body in prayer, praying in nature, etc.  It looks at how various Christians of the past used these different ways to build their spiritual lives. You can read more about this book at the publisher’s site here  and a review of it here.

As I mentioned, if you live close enough to join us, we would love to have you come. Just contact me for more info and directions to our first meeting location at a member’s home. (Click on contact page above.)

And if you are interested but cannot attend, think about reading the book yourself. Feel free to send questions to be discussed on this blog if you like.

Until next time, God be with you,  Amen! 

Accessing the video–Solitude at Iowa Stream

If you receive my blog via e-mail subscription and the link to today’s video of flowing water doesn’t work (I couldn’t make it work in my email!), here are other ways to view it:

1) Here’s the perma-link to the article with the video: https://spiritualdrawingboard.wordpress.com/2011/06/15/living-water-holy-spirit-and-solitude-at-an-iowa-stream/    –OR–

2) google “spiritual drawing board” and you’ll see the blog post for June 15  –OR–

3) go directly to the video on YouTube, called “Solitude at Iowa Stream”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rrS1e33HHPA  (googling the title also works)

Hope that helps. Blesings!–Julie