Lenten Journey: Surprised? Or, an invitation to blessing?

February 24, 2013 by

This entry is part 3 of 8 in the series Lenten Journeys

MILLIONS around the world are making the pilgrimage of Lent.
For Lent 2013, ReadTheSpirit has two offerings for you:

1.) DAVID CRUMM’S ‘OUR LENT’ Thousands of readers have enjoyed ReadTheSpirit Editor David Crumm’s day-by-day book of Lenten stories, called Our Lent: Things We Carry.

2.) OUR INTIMATE LENTEN JOURNEY The Rev. Dr. Benjamin Pratt has written books on wrestling with temptations (Ian Fleming’s Seven Deadlier Sins) and on helping others (Guide for Caregivers).
For Lent, we are publishing Dr. Pratt’s once-a-week series …
Part 1: Introduction and ‘Deep Calls to Deep’
Part 2: ‘Rituals & Practices (and Flowing Water)’

3: Surprised? Of course.
Or, is this an invitation to blessing?

By the Rev. Dr. Benjamin Pratt

IT WAS 7 A.M. I had just taken the first sip of coffee when the phone rang. She said, “My father died during the night. The hospice nurse called me about an hour ago. My rabbi has very young children and I don’t want to disturb them by calling his house this early. I knew you would be up. Will you say the Lord’s Prayer with me and the 23rd Psalm?”

Surprised! But, I understood what she was asking. I knew that Jewish and Muslim prayer both have parallels to what we Christians call the Lord’s Prayer. She was graciously asking for prayer in my terms. I managed to say, “I am sorry to hear that your father died. I am honored that you have asked me to pray with you.”

I wasn’t fully awake; I stumbled more than she did. But, we prayed the prayer and recited the Psalm together. Then we were quiet for a few moments.

“I am very grateful,” she said. “I feel much quieter now—comforted. Thank you.”

I learned much in my training as a hospital chaplain, then in my years as a pastor and pastoral counselor. I learned that each of us yearns for respectful presence and hospitality from another person. We deeply hunger to be seen and valued with dignity. When a person is in need, their race, gender, ethnicity and religious creed are not foremost—he or she wants person-to-person caring presence.

The truth for all of us: We may be called upon at any time, especially at times we least expect it. We should aspire to be ready to welcome people as they are—wherever we are—and then to find the blessing in that encounter.

Once, in a foreign country, my wife and I were dining in a sidewalk café. The food was excellent and each table was filled. Judith commented on her delicious dish when the woman next to her, having overheard, chimed in with similar enthusiasm for her tasty dinner. Before long Judith and the woman were chatting and comparing recipes while the man and I were talking. He is a long haul trucker who was visiting his girl friend. We talked about the differences in our countries, and I was inquisitive about the life of a trucker. He was quite willing to share the hardships and pleasures of his work. He asked about my work. I told him I am a retired minister and he looked startled.

Then he asked: “Will you please bless me?”

Startled—but I said, “Yes.” He closed his eyes and I crafted a brief blessing based on what he had shared about his life over the last half hour. When finished, I looked in his face. He kept his eyes shut and he was quiet. A tear suddenly formed and ran down his cheek.

“Thank you,” he said as he opened his eyes. “I really needed that. I think I must have been lead to meet you tonight.”

I said, “You have blessed me also. Thank you.”

We may be surprised anywhere. One day, my wife and I were grocery shopping. She had the list, and we were checking it twice. At one point, she said, “I need olives,” and I responded that I would go find them. I turned.

“I need olives, too,” said a nicely dressed older gentleman who had overheard us. We stepped off in the same direction and searched for the right aisle.

Then, yes, he surprised me. “You take good care of that woman, young man,” he said. “My wife of 56 years died two weeks ago and I’m shopping here for the first time alone.”

Ten minutes later we still hadn’t found the olives when my wife found us. But that didn’t matter because I had learned all about his wonderful wife and him. He needed someone to listen and be present. I was the one who found an unexpected blessing that day.

This week, my prayer for you is simple:

May God surprise you, too.

.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.

This column also has been posted via the website for the Day1 radio network.

Lenten Journey: Rituals, practices (and flowing water)

February 17, 2013 by

This entry is part 2 of 8 in the series Lenten Journeys

CLICK THE COVER to learn more about this book and to read sample chapters.MILLIONS around the world are making the pilgrimage of Lent.
For Lent 2013, ReadTheSpirit has two offerings for you:

1.) DAVID CRUMM’S ‘OUR LENT’

Thousands of readers have enjoyed ReadTheSpirit Editor David Crumm’s day-by-day book of Lenten stories, called Our Lent: Things We Carry. Now, you can enjoy this updated second edition.

2.) JOIN OUR INTIMATE LENTEN JOURNEY

The Rev. Dr. Benjamin Pratt is the author of books on wrestling with temptations (Ian Fleming’s Seven Deadlier Sins and 007’s Moral Compass) and on helping others (Guide for Caregivers).
For Lent, we are publishing Dr. Pratt’s once-a-week series …
Part 1: Introduction and ‘Deep Calls to Deep’

Part 2, Rituals & Practices:
Because Water Always Flows …

By the Rev. Dr. Benjamin Pratt

Water Flowing West and East: The top photo today shows water flowing along a stream in southern California. This bottom photo shows water flowing through the marshes of Tangier Island in Chesapeake Bay.THEY LAUGHED AT ME. I didn’t like that at all—I didn’t think they understood. I had told the other kids at the baseball diamond that I was better as a batter and pitcher because I practiced certain rituals. I always held the bat with trade mark up, out in front of me, and stared at the mark for a moment before I tapped two corners of the plate with the bat. To prove the efficacy of this little ritual, I held a trophy for batting .500 as a switch hitter in Little League.

My rituals for pitching were even more elaborate. To ensure my accuracy with the ball, I would grasp it firmly and walk in one direction around the mound—touching my cap twice as I walked. The other kids laughed and said I was just superstitious, but I knew this was my secret to success in the game.

You may be smiling yourself, but I think we live in a ritual-starved society. As an adult, some of my carefully observed customs keep me focused, grateful, connected, pulled into the moment, hopeful for the future. They add to my capacity to be a presence to my wife, my family and friends, and, especially, to strangers. Rituals give rhythm and familiarity to an otherwise chaotic day. They help me be a better player in life.

What are your rituals?

Here are a few of mine: I cover my heart during our National Anthem. It grounds me. Every morning, I always sing a song of gratitude—regardless of the weather—as I walk down my driveway to retrieve the morning newspaper. I have expanded that ritual and now hum a tune of thanks any time I stroll down our driveway.

I begin each day with some portion of the prayer of St. Francis—expressing my heart-felt yearning that I shall be made an instrument of peace, hope, love or comfort. If I hear an emergency siren, at any point during my day, I pause in silence to ask for compassion and healing for the responder and the one in need.

Sometimes, I add to this diet of rituals and practices that enrich my life. I just picked up a new one, when my wife and I visited Turkey to tour some of the world’s most important sacred sites. I came home with a ritual so simple that many of our companions missed it.

For our last three nights in Turkey, we stayed in a glitzy boutique hotel with a modern gloss that stood in stark contrast to the sites we had traveled so far to see. But, as we departed, something happened in stark contrast to the hotel’s décor. The hour was 3:30 a.m., when most of us were not inclined to pay attention to the young man lugging our suitcases onto a bus bound for the airport—and home.

After packing the bus, the young man took a minute to draw a pitcher of water from a tap in the hotel. As we prepared to depart in many directions, he poured out the water onto our roadway. It splashed on the pavement.

Why had he done this? I learned that it was a common ritual in that part of the world, bidding us auspicious travels wherever we were destined—because water always flows where it needs to go.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.

This column has also been posted at the website for the Day1 radio network.

Join in an Intimate Lenten Journey that leads us home

February 10, 2013 by

This entry is part 1 of 8 in the series Lenten Journeys

U.S. Navy men and women participate in an Ash Wednesday service aboard the USS Wasp in the Atlantic Ocean. Electronics Technician 3rd Class Leila Tardieu receives the sacramental ashes from a chaplain. (U.S. Navy photo by Brian May released for public use.)

CLICK THE COVER to learn more about this book and to read sample chapters.MILLIONS OF MEN and WOMEN around the world begin the journey of Lent this week with Ash Wednesday. When Eastern Orthodox Christians begin their Great Lent, starting a few weeks later this year, a total of more than 2 billion souls will share this journey toward new life.
THIS YEAR, ReadTheSpirit has two, inspiring offerings for Lent:

1.) DAVID CRUMM’S UPDATED
‘OUR LENT: THINGS WE CARRY’

Thousands of readers around the world have enjoyed ReadTheSpirit Editor David Crumm’s day-by-day book of Lenten stories, called Our Lent: Things We Carry. Small groups and even entire congregations have enjoyed “group reads” of the book, discussing it week by week. Now, you can enjoy this updated second edition. CLICK on the book cover, at right, to learn more about the stories in this book. On that book page, links in the left margin invite you to read the book’s Preface, Table of Contents, and Sample Chapter. Purchasing a copy of OurLent helps to support ReadTheSpirit’s ongoing work.

2.) COME ALONG! JOIN US IN THIS INTIMATE LENTEN JOURNEY …

One of our most popular columnists and authors is the Rev. Dr. Benjamin Pratt, a retired pastoral counselor who published books on wrestling with temptations (Ian Fleming’s Seven Deadlier Sins and 007’s Moral Compass) as well as helping others (Guide for Caregivers). His online columns are free for you to share with others (if you credit Dr. Pratt and readthespirit.com as the source). In addition, many of his columns are shared with the website of the Day1 radio network.
For Lent 2013, we are proud to publish Dr. Pratt’s once-a-week series …

Intimate Lenten Journey: Introduction …

By the Rev. Dr. Benjamin Pratt

One of the earliest portraits of Jesus Christ still in existence. A Roman-era mosaic now in the British Museum. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.HOLIDAYS ARE HISTORY. That’s the way most of us approach the ancient traditions and family customs that we love to repeat each year. But, the year-long cycle of Christian holidays are much more than that. These seasons are timeless, yet they also are very clear invitations to affirm our personal journey as God’s people.

In Advent, we start the yearly cycle by preparing to receive the Lord, coming into this world to accompany us. Jesus is born at Christmas, but it is also the season to celebrate our own birth into the faith. Epiphany is more than just a historical memory of three Magi bringing gifts to honor this babe. Epiphany is an invitation for each of us to affirm the gifts we bring to the table shared by all of God’s people. By the time we reach Lent each year, we have jumped through more than three decades of Jesus’ life and the world’s two billion Christians recall Jesus’ last journey to Jerusalem.

Lent is history, but it also is the most intimate invitation to men and women to journey in the Way of Jesus—the way of compassion, love, peace, hope, joy and forgiveness.

There is enormous loss and spectacular hope in Lent. And, each year, we all are invited to share our own losses and hopes as we journey together with each other and with Jesus toward the crescendo of Easter. That’s why these annual holidays and festivals have lasted for 2,000 years. That’s why, today, 1 in 3 people walking the Earth claims to be Christian and will in some way mark the Lenten journey. This is history, yes—but it also is an intimate invitation every year. “Intimacy is our capacity for closeness and tenderness in moments of risky self-disclosure,” says Father Richard Rohr, whom we just welcomed into the pages of this online magazine.

Each week during Lent, I will share some intimate stories—with an emphasis on that word “share.” I want you to feel free to share my stories with others. And I hope that my stories will prompt you to remember and share your own stories that are part of this journey. Perhaps you might carry these columns into your small group and invite people to discuss them. You will discover that the hallowed places I plan to take you in these six weeks are well-trod ground for many people. Perhaps they are hallowed ground you recognize.

This year, proclaim to the world that Lent and Easter are history, sure enough—but they also are personal invitations to journey together. Come along with me?

An Intimate Lenten Journey, Part 1:
Generation Calls to Generation; Deep Calls to Deep

THIS ROMAN-ERA CREMATORY URN, uncovered by archaeologists and dated to about 2,000 years ago was accompanied by a second smaller container to its right, apparently a vessel containing a gift of something precious to accompany the departed. Photo by Robert Valette, released for public use.‘TWAS A GRACIOUS OFFER we extended to the family—as so many grandparents do. We thought about it carefully, then waited for an appropriate gathering of the whole gang and announced: “We are getting old and will soon leave our home of many years. We want each of you grandchildren to choose some things to remind you of life with us.”

They stared at us for a moment, pondering this strange invitation. We could see them thinking through the meaning of what they had just heard. But, after questions, hugs, consoling grins and sighs—they took us at our word.

Finally, the respectful question came back to us: “What should we pick?” So, the walk began—all around our old house. What fun for my wife and me! I am known as “PopPop,” the patriarch over this gang of grandchildren. And soon PopPop was happily explaining the connections and personal history that oozes from every picture, pot, post and table—the collage of memories that drapes our home.

As the tales flowed, their pencils moved, making lists that included antique pictures where no one smiles back, a page from a 1611 Bible, Civil War bullet castings, pie-top and drop-leaf tables, rope beds—and even modern art. Clearly, they were excited by all of these offerings. We assured them that no request was out of bounds.

That is when a 9-year-old boy surprised us. He said: “I want PopPop’s ashes. That’s my first choice. That way, I can always have him close and talk with him.”

Nervous chuckles erupted from the others—uncertain what to say—and then gentle teasing and flat-out joking about how and where my ashes should, one day, be stored.

Soon, I could see that 9-year-old boy needed a hug to reassure him that his sincere question wasn’t being dismissed. I whispered in his ear: “I like your choice.”

I heard his question as he meant it: I don’t want to be without him; he doesn’t want to be without me. As in families around the world, we had cared for each other, laughed with each other, shared stories, comforted each other when sick. We had giggled, danced, read, laughed, played, wrestled, snuggled, talked about God and girls. He knows my love. I know his love.

And so this request: “I want PopPop’s ashes.”

And in that request was the truth so unvarnished and hard-edged: I shall leave him before he leaves me. It is in the nature of families. It is in the nature of relationships when the circle of friends realizes that one—perhaps even the leader of the whole big gang—is destined to leave first.

Just a 9-year-old boy, but the question was crystal clear.

Across the generations, his deep was calling to my deep.

…

AND FROM PSALM 42 …

AS A DEER longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.

 

When shall I come and behold
the face of God?

…

My soul is cast down within me …
Deep calls to deep
at the thunder of your cataracts;
all your waves and your billows
have gone over me.

 

By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.

…

Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.

Lenten Voices: Bending with Spring Winds

March 27, 2012 by

LENTEN VOICES is an occasional series reflecting on our journey through this season.
TODAY, we introduce blogger Lyda K. Hawes, the creator of See Lyda Run, who describes herself as an every-woman athlete sharing her adventures in running. She loves participating in endurance events and has learned, by ignoring the naysayers, that your age, weight, size, and speed do not have to get in the way of chasing your dreams. She also believes the path to God can be found in many places, including both the running path and being in community with fellow seekers in a more traditional church setting.

Bending with
Spring Winds

By Lyda K. Hawes

In my early years of observing Lent, I was extremely strict with myself in regards to whatever sacrifice I happened to be making. There were no excuses, no loop holes, no skipping out on Sundays, no forgiveness, NO MERCY!  It was go big or go home, all or nothing, perfection or despair. Although I was always very clear that I never expected anyone else to follow suit or live by my Lenten restrictions, what I have learned over time is being around that version of me is incredibly annoying for everyone else. Others were constantly having to adjust their lives to meet my needs. I found that by marching around and trumpeting my “look at me and my Lenten goodness” others felt compelled to accommodate me. Even if I didn’t ask or want them to, some simply did it because they wanted to be supportive in the way that friends and family often give their support to whatever whack-o thing you’re up to at any given moment. (Forget Lent for a minute, I have quite a track record in taking up whack-o things.)

I like to think I have improved on this front, but I also know it’s an area where I still need work. Last year (where I gave up going out to eat), I thought I was being super clever for a work-related offsite event by offering to bring lunch and happy hour fixins. I learned later that the sandwiches that I brought were not on a colleague’s low carb diet, not to mention he had to make special arrangements with the location for me to bring my food, but he was gracious enough not to stand in my way. And I believe an element of this discipline is not to make a big fuss about what you are doing, so writing blog posts about the whole business probably doesn’t help my cause either.

Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.
Matthew 6, verse 1

This year I decided to be more conscientious about not taking those around me through my personal journey of Lenten sacrifice. Okay, obviously writing this post invites people to go along the journey with me in some respects; so to clarify, I mean I am working hard not to inflict my offline, “real life,” Lenten choices on others. As far as my online presence goes, people can choose whether or not to read this post, or whether they even agree with my sentiments. Perhaps I really shouldn’t be writing about my experience with Lent—at least not on a blog, but that will have to be a struggle for another season.

What this really means is that I have to make a conscious choice to set aside perfect devotion to my sacrifice. Sometimes I have to live with my own inability to fulfill the commitment I have made. This past Friday we got together with friends we hadn’t seen in some months. Our usual tradition involves getting together for a meal and then watching a movie or catching up on the reality shows they know I like that are on cable, which we don’t have. I was very conflicted about how to handle this situation since I gave up TV for Lent. I initially suggested we get together on Sunday because there is a bit of a loophole with Lent on Sundays, but I actually keep to my discipline on Sundays, so I still would have felt like I was cheating in my heart. (As an aside, I do this because when I think of Jesus out in the wilderness for 40 days being tempted by Satan, I’m guessing he wasn’t taking Sundays off.) I considered telling them I had given up TV and movies for Lent, but it just felt like I would have been making them suffer for my choices which was exactly what I did not want to do. I also considered that perhaps I could have waited to see them until after Easter. In the end we did get together and we did watch TV—and, yes, I “inhaled”—and, yes, I had mixed feelings about that. But one of the things I also learned was the reason why we hadn’t heard from them in so long. They had been experiencing some personal challenges on a couple of different fronts and we were able to listen to them, give them our empathy and show that we cared about what was going on in their life by our presence.

Does that excuse my breaking my commitment not to watch TV?
Honestly, no, and I have to live with my own disappointment about that.
Am I glad we made the choice to go see them and not burden them with my TV-free life?
Absolutely.

The green reed that bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm.
Confucius 

Care to read other Lenten Voices?

HEATHER JOSE: Why We Need Meals Together This Year
BENJAMIN PRATT: Charcoal, Cuba and Compassion
BETH MILLER: How Ash Wednesday Found Us in Kenya

Please help us to reach a wider audience

We welcome your Emails at [email protected]
We’re also reachable on Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, Huffington Post, YouTube and other social-networking sites. You also can Subscribe to our articles via Email or RSS feed.
Plus, there’s a free Monday morning Planner newsletter you may enjoy.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.

Lenten Voices: Heather Jose on Why I’m Not Fasting

March 4, 2012 by

A table set for a meal evokes many spiritual associations. This is a Shaker table, still set in a visitor’s center. Photo by David Crumm.Lenten Voices is an occasional series of stories by men and women reflecting on their Lenten journey. Beth Miller’s story was our first. Also today, read Benjamin Pratt’s story.

Why We Need
Meals Together
This Year

By HEATHER JOSE

Ahhhh, here it is again—the time for me to feel guilty because I don’t follow through. In other words: It’s Lent.

In my defense, I wasn’t raised participating in Lent. My Baptist church was much more focused on the fact that Jesus was going to rise again than any ritual of deprivation. However, over time and a few different congregations that we have called home, I am much more familiar with the Lenten season. This year, my church began a bit early. In February we were asked to consider one day of fasting  and prayer each week. For a mere 24 hours could we (if we were healthy enough to do so) refrain from solid food and consider the needs of our church, our community and our world in prayer.

Yes, I thought, I am in! I can’t wait! This will be so good for me. When Wednesday rolled around I was ready. I ate breakfast and admittedly, an early lunch, since the fast was to start at noon. I rolled through the day feeling good about myself. I pulled up the Bible on my iPad and spent some time reading and reflecting that night. By the time noon came on Thursday, I decided that was so easy that I would continue to add items to fast from as the month progressed. Maybe next week it would be TV, and after that computers as well. In fact if I kept it up I would be living a perfectly monkish life by Easter.

Then it happened. My mother-in-law passed away that Friday after a short illness. We were in the midst of grief and tears. Over the course of the next week, we were amazed by the kindness of so many people as they reached out to our family. We spent more time together as an extended family than we had in years. We planned the funeral, spent time looking at pictures, took care of the little things that still had to be done, and finally made it through the visitation and funeral.

By the time we returned home to our house late Tuesday night we were exhausted. We wanted nothing more than to sleep in our own beds and find our routine again. As I turned down the lights and passed through the kitchen I opened the refrigerator door. There on the middle shelf sat a beautifully made lasagna, a loaf of rustic bread, and a note that read: “350 degrees for 30-45 minutes.”

The next morning, as I left for work, I psyched myself up for fasting. I was prepared to do it. However, as the day went on I found that all I could think about was making that lasagna for dinner. By the end of the day I called my husband and said, “I’m making dinner tonight.”

I needed that dinner. I needed to sit at my table with my family. To hold hands and pray before eating and to hear the incidentals of the day. By the time dinner was over it felt as though things might be okay.

I haven’t fasted since. I am not opposed to the idea, I just haven’t gotten back there yet. I have seen and felt God in a million other ways through others. I think He would be okay with that this Lenten season.

And there’s always next year.

Care to read more from Heather Jose?

Heather Jose is the author of the book Letters to Sydney: Every Day I am Killing Cancer, co-author of The Healing Agreement—and a contributing writer for the Breast Cancer Wellness Magazine, Coping Magazine and Thrive. Not long ago, she wrote a week-long series about the challenges of caregiving in America. This link takes you to the first of her five stories in that series.

Want more inspirational reading for Lent?

Lent is booming across the U.S. as a spiritual practice.
Learn what’s happening and consider getting a copy of the new 2nd Edition of Our Lent: Things We Carry.

Please help us at ReadTheSpirit
to reach a wider audience

We welcome your Emails at [email protected]
We’re also reachable on Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, Huffington Post, YouTube and other social-networking sites. You also can Subscribe to our articles via Email or RSS feed.
Plus, there’s a free Monday morning Planner newsletter you may enjoy.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.

Lenten Voices: Benjamin Pratt near a fire in Cuba

March 4, 2012 by

A fire along a shoreline calls to all of our senses, wherever we encounter this sight around the world. Photo from Wikimedia Commons.Lenten Voices is an occasional series of stories by men and women reflecting on their Lenten journey. Beth Miller’s story was our first. Also today, read Heather Jose’s story.

Charcoal,
Cuba and
Compassion

By Benjamin Pratt

Every year, as I walk the Lenten pilgrimage I am reminded of breakfasts prepared over charcoal in a remote farm community in Cuba where our United Methodist Volunteers in Mission Team was working along side our Cuban brothers and sisters to build a retreat facility for the emerging Cuban Methodist Church. It was in that setting that my hungry, empty soul was filled as if by Jesus who also prepared a breakfast over a charcoal fire for his despairing disciples. I am deeply grateful for the compassion from a community filled with Grace who fed my soul.
Gracias Senor!

In the early 1990s, Jesse Jackson personally confronted Fidel Castro with his abuse of Christians. Castro publicly apologized opening the doors for suppressed faith groups to come out of hiding and grow. By 1998, the time of my first trip, the Cuban Methodist Church had grown from 2,000 to more than30,000. Other Christian denominations and Jewish communities have grown at great speed. Within the last year, the Cuban government has asked our UMVIM teams, which have averaged one team a month, to come more often.

Perhaps the rapid growth is because their faith was a light the darkness could not overcome, an underground light much like a smoldering fire that lingers unnoticed until the firefighters have left the scene, whereupon it erupts into flames.

It is a strange irony that Genesis begins with darkness and the last of the four Gospels, John, ends in darkness—Genesis1: 1-5 and John 21: 1-14. Genesis tells us that before darkness there had never been anything other than darkness; it covered the face of the deep. At the end of the Gospel of John, the disciples go out fishing on the sea of Tiberias in the dark night! They have no luck. Their nets are empty. Then they spot somebody standing on the beach. They don’t see who it is in the darkness. It is Jesus.

All it took to break the darkness of Genesis was God’s word, “Let there be Light!” Amazing—beyond our imagination! But the darkness of John is broken by the flicker of a charcoal fire in the sand. Jesus has built a charcoal fire and he is cooking fish for his old friends. Breakfast! The sun is rising. All that we need to know about overcoming our own darkness may be found in those two scenes.

The original creation of light is so extraordinary that most of us cannot fathom it. Breakfast cooking on the beach is the opposite. It is so ordinary that we are prone to ignore it.

God’s creation of Light to overcome the darkness is not what pulls most of us to faith. It is too exceptional. So, a small spark was lit to draw us. Jesus sheltered a spark with his cupped hands and blew on it to make enough fire for a breakfast. Very few of us will come to God because of our interest in creation. We are much more likely to come because of the empty feeling in our hearts and stomachs.

Nearly every morning while working in Camp Canaan in Miller, Cuba, I was reminded of these scriptures. We awoke in the pale early morning light before the sun arose. Then, like the dawn of creation, the rising sun filled the sky with a golden ball of fire. As we watched the sunrise, the smell of breakfast being cooked over an open charcoal fire drew us toward the morning table.

I wasn’t sure why I went to Cuba. I felt called to go but it was a call I resisted. It scared me. It was out of my comfort zone. I couldn’t even speak Spanish! I responded to a pilgrimage I needed to take. I went to attempt to heal something in my hungry, empty soul. I hoped and prayed that if I loved and served in a new way my hungry, empty soul might be filled. Every morning two women cupped their hands and blew on a spark to start a charcoal fire for preparing breakfast. It was the love and compassion of colleagues in a grace filled community, eating breakfast together, working for others who loved us in return that filled the dark empty place in my soul. They loved me. I loved them. We worked in community, and Jesus brought light into the darkness of our lives and the lives of those we served. God healed my hungry, empty soul through the ones I went to serve—with charcoal, a compassionate community filled with Grace, in Cuba.

GRACIAS SENOR!

Want more from Dr. Pratt?

Across America, 65 million men and women are caregivers. You’ll enjoy Dr. Pratt’s book, A Guide for Caregivers: Keeping Your Spirit Healthy When Your Caregiver Duties and Responsibilities Are Dragging You Down.

Please help us to reach a wider audience

We welcome your Emails at [email protected]
We’re also reachable on Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, Huffington Post, YouTube and other social-networking sites. You also can Subscribe to our articles via Email or RSS feed.
Plus, there’s a free Monday morning Planner newsletter you may enjoy.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.

Neither Wolf’s Kent Nerburn invites us on a new pilgrimage

February 26, 2012 by

Kent Nerburn ranks among America’s beloved storytellers and spiritual guides. His specialties in past books include the natural world, Native American wisdom, the relationships between parents and their children—and the many ways that fine arts are a catalyst to insight. He began his career as a theologian and sculptor. But, he is most famous, today, for Neither Wolf nor Dog, required reading on Native Americans’ relationships with non-Indians (along with its more recent sequel The Wolf at Twilight). Inspirational quotations from Nerburn’s many published works, especially his book on fatherhood Letters to My Son and his Wolf books, are sprinkled liberally across the Internet these days. Even the celebrated guru Eckhart Tolle sings praises for Nerburn’s newest volume.

In Ordinary Sacred: The Simple Beauty of Everyday Life, Nerburn gives us a handy companion for a personal pilgrimage wherever we find ourselves living today. Even this book’s cover with its barn-wood imagery, compact size and comfortable-to-the-fingers matte finish makes it a perfect book for a long walk or a quiet afternoon in a favorite corner.

At first, the vivid vignettes in Ordinary Sacred may seem like disconnected gems. The book opens with Kent inviting us to travel across the northern prairies, an echo of the Wolf adventures. Then, we drop South for a brief detour along a stretch of legendary Route 66. But, wait a minute! We’re also stopping by Oxford University and, suddenly, we’re in Florence contemplating the works of great masters. Around that point in the book, we discover that these aren’t random gems. Rather, this is a string of beads. This is a pilgrimage. And, in the end, when we stand with the author in “The Circle,” one of this slim book’s final stops, the wisdom of this journey comes home to us like a lump in the throat.

That’s what makes this book, at the start of Lent 2012, a perfect Lenten reader. Of course, ReadTheSpirit is urging readers to consider our own 40-day, 40-chapter Lenten reader, Our Lent: Things We Carry. But Nerburn’s 13-part Ordinary Sacred is another kind of Lenten pilgrimage. There’s no explicitly Christian message here, yet this cycle of stories moves through a long spiritual journey toward a death, a burial and transcendence. Truly, these are Lenten themes. At its root, this book and Nerburn’s entire body of work remind us that all journeys are sacred, all places along the way are sacred and, ultimately, all moments are sacred, if we have eyes and ears and hearts to recognize the truth.

Do you find yourself generally non-religious, but yearning for deeper daily connections between your life and the larger living world around us? Or, do you find yourself deeply religious, yet mired in the sameness of your congregation’s weekly disciplines? In either case, Ordinary Sacred is your invitation to a potent journey into a deeper and a wider world.

This week, we welcome our friend and colleague Kent Nerburn back to the pages of ReadTheSpirit, where Editor David Crumm has interviewed the author and artist at the start of this Lenten season. Later this week, we will publish our full interview, but today we share what Kent had to say about …

Ordinary Sacred by Kent Nerburn
… as a Companion for Lent

In our interview, Kent Nerburn says this about Lent …

I would love it if readers took hold of this book as a reader for Lent. When I began writing this book, I thought of it almost as a classic Book of Hours, moving through the day from Matins to Vespers. That became an underlying theme in this book, definitely a part of its spiritual arc. The sections move from Dawn’s Awakening to Night’s Embrace.

These days, I don’t practice as a Catholic anymore, but the Christian tradition will always be a part of my life. These religious traditions have a wisdom far greater than anything we could create on our own as individuals. So, this book really is an effort to touch both religious touchstones and broader spiritual touchstones, as well.

In my own days of theological training, I was guided by the Imitation of Christ and scripture and in these texts you see always see this shadow of crucifixion behind everything. As an artist, I’ve sculpted figures who are caught up in this deep spiritual experience. I came out of pre-Vatican II Catholicism and my life has been a long journey from those early heavy burdens of teachings like original sin toward my own celebration of the joy and mystery of life.

From my earliest Catholicism all the way through graduate school, I took Lent very seriously. It was the season I found that I could enter into most completely. In about 1980 or 1981, I had a chance to live in a Benedictine monastery in British Columbia so that I could do a sculpture for the monastery. I agreed that I wouldn’t sign the work. There was this medieval notion of an artist doing all to glorify God. But, when I got there, these Benedictines presented some issues that I found difficult to swallow. I didn’t like the abbot. He seemed venal to me. He talked about poverty, but I perceived him as living with a wealth like some King Henry VIII. And, I wound up crossing swords with him more than once. I thought about leaving.

Then, at one point, he said to me: “Stay in the machine, Kent. It’ll clean you out.” And, now, that’s the way I look at Lent. I lived with those Benedictines through Lent and shared their life, their rituals, the Mass. I was back to being that Catholic child, where I began life.

I wasn’t the equal of these men. Their Lenten experience, after their years together in the monastery, was intense—so intense that many of them reached Easter and I saw them finally breaking down in tears. These were quiet men, but they had entered so deeply into the cycle of Lent that they were entirely taken over by the journey. The spiritual clarification of that Lent was beyond anything I could have imagined. I was humbled.

But, if we think about it more deeply, we realize that the year’s liturgical seasons reflect the natural course of life. They work on us, if we open ourselves to it, with an almost subterranean power to reshape our lives. That’s why I’d love it if people accepted Ordinary Sacred as a pocket meditation book for Lent. I would be pleased to accompany them in this season.

REMEMBER: You can order Ordinary Sacred: The Simple Beauty of Everyday Life from Amazon now. And, please come back later this week, for our complete interview with Kenty Nerburn in which the author and artist talks about his life, his work and the inspirations behind Ordinary Sacred.

ANOTHER GREAT LENTEN COMPANION?
GET ‘OUR LENT: THINGS WE CARRY’

Of course, ReadTheSpirit is recommending our own new book, the 2nd Edition of Our Lent: Things We Carry, which now is available for all e-reading devices—as well as in a brightly colored new paperback edition as well. Click this link or click the book cover, at right, to read more about this inspiring guide to this ancient season of reflection.

Originally published at readthespirit.com, an online magazine covering religion and cultural diversity.