Forest Spirituality

Forest Spirituality

Wandering around the forest as I am wont to do these days, my spirituality has evolved into much more of a forest spirituality. I cling to the Tree of Life - to Christ, and am firmly rooted in Christianity. Yet I find shelter, nourishment, oxygen, beauty, the breath of the Holy Spirit, and more in the great forest of spiritual traditions. For now, I am grateful for the grounding and rootedness I find in Christ, and for the grace to be able to wander in the forest and breathe deeply of the life-giving nourishment and connection it provides.

The Simply Being of Nature

The Simply Being of Nature

Earlier this week I spent time staying in a hermitage at the Portiuncula Center for Prayer in Frankfort, IL, and walking in the nearby woods. While I was there I wrote in my journal something that connected with my experience at the Anderson Japanese Gardens:

When I spend time in the woods or at the Anderson Japanese Gardens, I find myself marveling at the simplicity of creation. How it sings out with joy and wonder simply by existing. The trees, flowers, and plants aren't trying to "make their mark." They aren't trying to change anything. They simply exist - beautiful, gentle, and good.

Sing of Grief, Sing of Rejoicing

Sing of Grief, Sing of Rejoicing

God is able, my friends. God is able to breathe life into the dry bones of our world’s current situation. God is able to bring life out of death.

We grieve death after death after death. Yet even at the grave we make our song.

We weep at Jesus’ death on the cross on Good Friday and we also sing “Holy God, holy and living one, life that never ends, you show your love by dying, dying for your friends, and we behold you living.” (Susan Briehl)

Death and resurrection are inextricably bound. Weeping may spend the night, but joy comes in the morning. We will weep and we will rejoice.

The death cries of “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” may seem the loudest right now, but the sweet alleluias of Easter are the distant triumph song that will never let us go.

, ,

Sermon: Mothers of God

, ,
Sermon: Mothers of God

The 13th century mystic Meister Eckhart said that “we are all meant to be mothers of God, for God is always needing to be born.”

Indeed we live in a world desperate for God to be born anew. Will we echo Mary’s yes and become mothers of God’s new creation? The good news is that we don’t have to do this work of birthing God’s new creation alone. No, it is God who will do the work through us. And we will do the work together.

This very evening God’s word will take flesh in us as we gather around this table and partake of the holy meal of thanksgiving. And nourished by God’s very body, we will be sent forth to be mothers of God in the world.

,

Broken, but still good.

,
Broken, but still good.

One of the metaphors for the church is the “family of God.” In baptism we are adopted into this family, this Body of Christ. At baptism we promise to care for others and the world God made and to work for justice and peace. You might say these are our “family values” (to use a very loaded phrase). Yet we often fail to live up to these promises. In big and small ways we, each of us and together) often dismiss others instead of caring for them, we damage the world God made instead of repairing it, and we look away when the most vulnerable among us cry out for justice.

, ,

Houses of God, Each of Us

, ,
Houses of God, Each of Us

Here in this holy house where we worship and praise, where we come to rest and to pray, where we come away to receive nourishment…here in this holy house, as beautiful and wonderful as it is, as much as we desperately need what we find here, this holy house is not where we’re meant to stay.

No, like God, we are called to move about in tent and tabernacle, a nomadic…a pilgrim people called to go out to dwell with God’s people in the world, to feed, to teach, to heal.