Jesus Brand Spirituality (pt 4)

Part One: Active Dimension
Ch 4: Healing Along the Way

Wilson begins the chapter with something I’ve felt for quite a while:

My father had a favorite word: bass-ackwards.  Sometimes I wonder if those of us who promote the religion of Jesus have gotten something bass-ackwards.  Have we front-loaded people with so many matters of belief that we are, in effect, asking them to swallow the whole package as a prerequisite for meaningful engagement with Jesus?

He talks about the fact that we can’t crawl into another person’s soul; we can’t know where they are, where they are coming from, etc.  But we hand them a package of belief and expect them to swallow the entire thing whole, all at once, before they can begin to engage God or have any sort of meaningful experience of spirituality.  We’ve forgotten that the Christian doctrinal system has been in development for over two thousand years, rooted in traditions that are even older.  He then speaks to four different aspects of “healing along the way”:

The Creation (a review)

I just finished and set down next to me E.O. Wilson’s The Creation: An appeal to save life on earth.  When I picked it up at a bookstore months ago (I’ve been reading it in small chunks here and there between reading other books), I was pretty excited about it as I’ve been wanting to read something by Wilson for quite a while…and this one was written under the premise that scientists and religious leaders need to work together  to preseve the Earth’s rapidly vanishing biodiversity.

I have to say, I did enjoy it…but I’m not so sure Wilson succeeded in his premise.  His thoughts and words about biodiversity and its importance were beautiful, but he seemed to head off onto various rabbit trails (I know his specialty is ants, and the near entire chapter he wrote about a certain species of ant in the Caribbean and its ethno-natural history was fascinating, but I honestly can’t figure out what it has to do with urging scientists and religious leaders to work together…or helping people in the religious community further value the creation). 

When he writes about the wonders of bacteria and the near countless species of microorganisms and SLIMES that a square meter of soil contains, he’s at his best.  But to me it almost seemed like Wilson was appealing to the worst in people when speaking of the value of earth and its biomes and biodiversity in actual monetary value or basing its value on how these organisms might benefit us directly (through possible medicines, cures, etc.).  I would have much rather he stayed on valuing organisms and biodiversity because of their intrinsic value and the beauty of the relationships and interconnectedness between them.  As Wilson writes at one point, “…ecosystems and species can be saved only by understanding the unique value of each species in turn, and by persuading the people who have dominion over them to serve as their stewards.”  If he had stayed on this path, I think the result (and his argument) would have remained strong (and in my opinion, created MUCH more common ground for scientists and religious leaders to stand on).

I really enjoyed his last section, “Teaching the Creation” and the chapters included within (How to Learn Biology and How to Teach It, How To Raise a Naturalist, Citizen Science).  Perhaps this is simply where I’m at and has to do with what I’ve been trying to exercise and encourage in others, but many of his suggestions and examples in these chapters were great.

He concludes his “letter” hoping that he has succeeded in convincing religious leaders of the value and need for saving Earth’s biodiversity.  Although I was already convinced of this before I took the book from the shelf, I hope it serves in urging others in the religious community in understanding and working toward the preservation and restoration of the creation we were called to steward.

neither bear nor…?

Today was the day of the year we hold baptisms.  We all gather in the field outside the church and sing some songs and those who want to get baptized share a bit of their stories.  The church is right next to the river (where we actually do the baptisms), and so we all walk from the church and across a footbridge to the other side where there is a calm spot in the water.  So this morning, as a bunch of people were crossing the bridge, a bear meandered across the river below and into the bushes updstream from where we do the baptisms.

I’m not sure what people in other places would have done in this situation, but out here in the country, well, we proceeded straight down to the river’s edge without so much as a concern and continued with the baptisms.

‘Cause out here, that’s just how we roll.

Jesus Brand Spirituality (pt 3)

Part One: Active Dimension
Ch 3: Repairing the World

Wilson begins the chapter by talking about the contempt many Christians (or at least Evangelicals) often have for “environmentalists.”  He likens this to a “trademark infringement on the Jesus brand,” saying

Religious contempt toward those who care passionately about the environment has nothing to do with Jesus, but it has found a way into much of the religion that bears his name.  I hope and pray this is changing, but when an environmental scientist encounters contempt, the scientist often assumes the contemptuous person also carries the name Christian

He goes on to say (very correctly, I think) that many people who claim to follow Jesus have been taking their cues from the talking heads and personalities on radio and television (“All someone has to do is wrap himself in the flag and build a powerful enough media platform, and we hang on every word he speaks as though it were the gospel”).  All of this is to say that we should be looking for “trademark infringement” whenever and wherever it occurs.  Because religion can both reveal and obscure Jesus, we sometimes have to dig through the mess of religion to find him.  Wilson states that a good place to start is the gospels, where we find Jesus on a mission to repair to the world…and extending an invitation for us to join him.  The chapter culminates with this mission being broken down into the following three categories:

Jesus Brand Spirituality (pt 2)

Chapter 2: You Are Here

To know where we’re going, we have to know where we’ve been.  Understanding the premise of pilgrimage that Wilson introduced int he previous chapter, he begins to elaborate on the idea a bit more before jumping into the four dimensions.

Jesus Brand Spirituality (pt 1)

So I picked up a new book today, one I hadn’t intended on picking up, but saw the spine on the shelf and ended up bringing it home with me.  It’s entitled Jesus Brand Spirituality: He wants his religion back  and is authored by Ken Wilson.  The cover intrigued me, and I was about to put it back on the shelf, but then I noticed the foreward was written by Phyllis Tickle, so I gave it more of a chance and flipped through the pages and table of contents.  After reading the first lines of the first chapter, I thought it might be worth the read:

“Jesus wants his religion back.  And he wants it back from the orthodox, the Bible-believing, and the defenders of faith as much as from anyone else.  So it can be for the world again.”

Being a fairly new book to the market, I thought I would go ahead and attempt to review it as I read it…chapter by chapter would be the best, I suppose.  From the beginning, I have to admit that I am irrititated by the phrase “Jesus brand spirituality” (and evidently I’m not the only one, as Wilson communicates his reason for using the phrase here).  But, so far, the actual content of Wilson’s writing is substantial enough that I can get beyond any qualms I have about the phrase.

this stinks

Up here in the mountains the few cherry trees on people’s properties are finally in bloom.  So is the serviceberry and balsamroot.  And the grass is coming up.

We have a patch of lawn here at the cottage the church provides for us–approximately 75 feet by 40 feet (I measured today).  The property is right next to the river.  Not only have I become more and more ‘organic’ in my view of how we treat and tend the environment we find ourselves in, I am even more aware of it now that we live right next to a water source and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking as to what it means to be a member of the watershed I live in (a sort of watershed examen, I guess).  The church is having the lawns and field on the church property sprayed this week (fertilized and sprayed for dandelions).  I asked the groundskeeper if we could prevent our lawn from being sprayed, and he said yes.  It was just hydroseeded last summer before we moved in, and as far as I know has never been treated with chemicals, so we’re starting with a good base.

I’ve spent the last couple week reading about organic lawn care (to be honest, my preference would be to actually remove the vast majority of the 75×40 ft. chunk of monocultured lawn grass, but, you know…).  So I guess one of the best things I can spray on the lawn is compost tea, which is the product of soaking a porous bag of compost in some water for a week, and all the good micro organisms and nutrients that leach into the water get sprayed onto the lawn, percolate into the soil and get it healthy and breaking things down and converting it to useable energy for the grass, etc.  But I can’t find a siphon attachment for our hose, and every place I go looking for one…no one knows what I’m talking about. 

So instead, today I went and bought 12 bags of steer manure at the hardware store.  I dumped 6 out over various areas of the lawn and raked it in.  It stunk.  And it didn’t go nearly as far as I thought (and really hoped) it would.  One bag is recommended for every 100 sq. feet…but it didn’t spread well at all.  I don’t know how many it will take.

Did I mention that I smell like crap?

I think the groundskeeper things I’m going overboard, but he’s a nice guy and he doesn’t say anything.  Just let me do my thing.

After I get the lawn covered in bull shite, my next project is to hang a clothesline.

And find a siphon attachment for the hose.

on stewardship

Wow…has it actually been almost two months since my last post?

Been reading a lot lately.  I had some time to kill while in Seattle the other day and, after getting my obligatory bag of donuts from Pike Place Market, wandered up and into Left Bank Books.  I didn’t have near as much time as I wanted to spend in there…but I did leave with The Creation: an appeal to save live on earth by E. O. Wilson.  A naturalist, entymologist, and expert on ants, he begins the book with: “Dear Pastor…”  The entire book is written as a letter/conversation with a pastor, and is a call for scientists and religious leaders to work together in getting people to understand the importance of biodiversity and environmental conservation.

“…ecosystems and species can be saved only by understanding the unique value of each species in turn, and by persuading the people who have dominion over them to serve as their stewards.”

from the land of ice and snjoa

I’ve been thinking a lot about this season of Advent.  In a previous post I talked about how a prolonged winter affected me during Lent last spring.  And this fall, I found myself dreading the soon-to-come snow, especially in an area that receives more snow than where I had previously been.

Many of the things that fascinate me like moss and ferns and water pouring over dark rocks, well, they’re all covered up by snow during winter.  EVERYTHING is covered by the snow in winter.  Which leaves me staring out at the ‘great white death’ that blankets the landscape.  Last week we had 34″ of snow fall in a 24 hour period.  The killing came and it came fast.  And I’ve found my soul entering into a brooding period similar to Lent.  It’s lying fallow, just beneath the surface, waiting in hope and expectation for the thaw.  My Advent doesn’t last one month…but three (okay, maybe four or even five some years…depending on how slow the thaw is). 

The Norse and Germanic peoples believed that ‘the killing’ that came each fall when the plants and shrubs lost their leaves was caused by evil spirits in the forest.  Everything seemed to die…except for the evergreens.  They believed that good spirits must then dwell within and among the evergreens, so the people would cut boughs and branches from them and bring them inside, hoping that the good spirits would protect them from the evil ones in the forest.  So during the long, dark nordic winters they brought into their homes and surrounded themselves with vestiges of life in the midst of the bleak death that seemed to envelope them.

I’ve been thinking about this as we’ve been decorating our house this past week for Christmas, hanging bits of evergreen over doorways.  Life, lying fallow, waiting for rebirth.  Yesterday I went out into the surrounding mountains, trudging through the snow, and cut down a small fir tree.  I brough it into the house and we dressed it with strings of small white lights. 

A small reminder of Life and Light in the middle of a cold, deep sleep.

That’s where I’m at right now, lying dormant and mulling over things and brooding and waiting for green and color and sounds and standing shin-deep in a mountain stream.  But before we wake we have to slumber.  Before we walk we have to rest.  So I sit here, acknowledging the importance of the present, but looking forward to the tangible hope of the future.

Sigur Ros on vinyl is the perfect soundtrack for times like these.

sacred space

Space and atmosphere have always been a big thing for me…just something I always notice, I guess.  A few years ago I picked up a book, a table in the desert (making space holy).  I never actually made it further than page 5, so I don’t actually know what the book is specifically about, but just the title served as a launching pad of inspiration for me.  It opens with a quote from Pope John Paul II, from his letter “Concerning Pilgrimages…”:

“The spatial dimension is no less decisive than the temporal in the concrete accomplishment of the mystery of the Incarnation.  My meditation turns to the ‘places’ in which God has chosen to ‘pitch his tent’ among us.  God is equally present in every corner of the earth, so that the whole world may by considered the ‘temple’ of God’s presence.  Yet this does not take away from the fact that, just as time can be marked by kairoi, by special movements of grace, space too may by analogy bear the stamp of particular saving actions of God.  This is an intuition present in all religions, that sacred times and sacred spaces are where the encounter with the divine may be experience more intensely than it would normally be in the vastness of the cosmos.”

So this begs the question: how do we define and decorate our spaces?  Are they conducive to us being more aware of the direct presence of God around us?  Do they draw us into his Story and constant work of restoration and new creation? 

I try to surround myself with objects and symbols of this so that I am constantly being drawn in.  I have live plants mixed with bones and shells in a conjunctive display: life springing forth from death; newness from the old.  I like playing with light, and have found that a yellowish light seems to have a calming effect and give the idea of warmth, and since I hold youth meetings in the office and it often becomes a time for dialogue and discussion, I try to use lamps that give this effect and provide this sort of atmosphere.

I had the camera with me at the office today, and I was thinking about some of these things today as I messed around and took pictures of my office space:

I would be interested in hearing about or seeing images from your spaces and how you try to make them more conducive to ‘an encounter with the divine.’