Songs and Lessons from the Wood
August 16, 2009
Like Thoreau, I go to the woods to find myself. I go to remember – to remember who I am called to be and to remember who I was long ago.
We live in a culture that dismembers the best of us, thus to re-member is counter cultural in a profound way. The church is a house of memory, and thus we remain, at our best, a profoundly counter-cultural site.
I am increasingly convinced that each of us needs a place or a practice of remembering and of recentering ourselves.
But such remembering and recentering practices – spiritual practices, as we call them – are not an end unto themselves. As much as we might like to go away to places of particular significance to us and simply not come back, we cannot nor should we. For spiritual practices without social action are self-indulgent sentimentality.
On the other hand, social action untethered to spiritual foundations too often slips from righteous faithfulness to self-righteous cynicism. While we are called to faith in body, spirit and mind – and thus called to sharp and critical assessment of the social order – cynicism – as easy and sometimes downright fun as it is – is not a faithful response to God’s world.
But that sounds pretty heavy and serious, and I go to the woods also to remind myself that faithful living can be full of laughter and play. After all, as the great Westminster catechism reminds us, the chief end of humankind is to praise and revel joyously in God, or, as the Westminster divines put it, “to praise God and enjoy God forever.” It is impossible to be cynical when you are praising and enjoying God, when you are singing and laughing together.
A-A-Alleluia!
Like Jesus, I go to the wilderness to rediscover or rekindle my sense of call. Everyone should have a place like that – what I like to call a thin place. Much of the time we live out our lives in places that are dense – not people who are dense, places! Places and situations where it is difficult to feel the presence of God, where God feels hidden, sometimes absent and often shrouded by layers of stuff, silenced by other voices beckoning us to follow false gods of affluence or appearance or individual achievement.
But there are thin places where God feels as close as the air that we breathe, where the voice of God rings clearly. For some the mountains are a thin place, for others it is the beach or some other water. Some find thin places in gardens or fields. Some find the sanctuary a thin place. Others discover a thin place in song or dance. Where is your thin place? Wherever it is, do not neglect it.
For me, the sandy paths of camp, that I know so well I rarely turn on a flashlight even on dark nights; the woods thick with sounds of birds and bugs broken up by laughter of small groups; the lake whose ripples are disturbed by the path of a canoe – those are thin places where I hear God speak and renew my sense of call.
It’s not merely the beauty of nature – although touching foot to ground is incredibly important in an age where we breathe conditioned air, walk a few steps on concrete to get into cars that move our bodies around. In addition to feeling the earth, and feeling part of creation, I go to the woods to learn the lessons of leadership.
I’ve learned more about leading from 10-year-olds at camp than from all the gurus whose books I’ve read or whose conferences I’ve attended. Watch a group of a dozen 10-year-olds trying to get into one canoe without tipping it over and you know how crucial effective communication is to leadership. Watch that same group, having learned that water weighs eight pounds per gallon and that a canoe holds 100 gallons of water when it tips, and you know that the lessons of ineffective communication carry a cost. Watch that same group, having tipped said canoe twice and emptied it twice, discovering that a quiet little girl has a good idea but that they have to listen to each other to hear the idea and act on it, and then watch them triumphantly get in the canoe and, sans paddles, move it across the water, and you know that effective leadership often emerges from unexpected places.
I’ve been thinking about that lesson in particular as I’ve thought about the fall season here, and the list of opportunities to lead and serve in this community. Each of us has gifts for leadership in different aspects of life and ministry. Is God calling you to use your God-given leadership gifts in a new and unexpected way here this fall?
As noted in the August newsletter, we are stepping out in faith and trusting that you will provide leadership here in such areas as coordinating our ministry of hospitality – making sure that people are signed up to host coffee hour, coordinating outreach to visitors, scheduling Wii Kirk, planning third Sunday brunch. We trust that you will step up and lead in such capacities as elders on session, of which we need a class of three for 2010. We trust that you will step up and lead our Christian education efforts in teaching Sunday school.
You have been given remarkable gifts, and have tremendous capacity for leadership. Where are you called to lead now?
The most remarkable aspect of leadership in the community of Christ is that the first step in leadership is simply to follow where Christ calls.
Like Thoreau, I go to the woods to find myself. I go to remember – to remember who I am called to be and to remember who I was long ago.
We live in a culture that dismembers the best of us, thus to re-member is counter cultural in a profound way. The church is a house of memory, and thus we remain, at our best, a profoundly counter-cultural site.
I am increasingly convinced that each of us needs a place or a practice of remembering and of recentering ourselves.
But such remembering and recentering practices – spiritual practices, as we call them – are not an end unto themselves. As much as we might like to go away to places of particular significance to us and simply not come back, we cannot nor should we. For spiritual practices without social action are self-indulgent sentimentality.
On the other hand, social action untethered to spiritual foundations too often slips from righteous faithfulness to self-righteous cynicism. While we are called to faith in body, spirit and mind – and thus called to sharp and critical assessment of the social order – cynicism – as easy and sometimes downright fun as it is – is not a faithful response to God’s world.
But that sounds pretty heavy and serious, and I go to the woods also to remind myself that faithful living can be full of laughter and play. After all, as the great Westminster catechism reminds us, the chief end of humankind is to praise and revel joyously in God, or, as the Westminster divines put it, “to praise God and enjoy God forever.” It is impossible to be cynical when you are praising and enjoying God, when you are singing and laughing together.
A-A-Alleluia!
Like Jesus, I go to the wilderness to rediscover or rekindle my sense of call. Everyone should have a place like that – what I like to call a thin place. Much of the time we live out our lives in places that are dense – not people who are dense, places! Places and situations where it is difficult to feel the presence of God, where God feels hidden, sometimes absent and often shrouded by layers of stuff, silenced by other voices beckoning us to follow false gods of affluence or appearance or individual achievement.
But there are thin places where God feels as close as the air that we breathe, where the voice of God rings clearly. For some the mountains are a thin place, for others it is the beach or some other water. Some find thin places in gardens or fields. Some find the sanctuary a thin place. Others discover a thin place in song or dance. Where is your thin place? Wherever it is, do not neglect it.
For me, the sandy paths of camp, that I know so well I rarely turn on a flashlight even on dark nights; the woods thick with sounds of birds and bugs broken up by laughter of small groups; the lake whose ripples are disturbed by the path of a canoe – those are thin places where I hear God speak and renew my sense of call.
It’s not merely the beauty of nature – although touching foot to ground is incredibly important in an age where we breathe conditioned air, walk a few steps on concrete to get into cars that move our bodies around. In addition to feeling the earth, and feeling part of creation, I go to the woods to learn the lessons of leadership.
I’ve learned more about leading from 10-year-olds at camp than from all the gurus whose books I’ve read or whose conferences I’ve attended. Watch a group of a dozen 10-year-olds trying to get into one canoe without tipping it over and you know how crucial effective communication is to leadership. Watch that same group, having learned that water weighs eight pounds per gallon and that a canoe holds 100 gallons of water when it tips, and you know that the lessons of ineffective communication carry a cost. Watch that same group, having tipped said canoe twice and emptied it twice, discovering that a quiet little girl has a good idea but that they have to listen to each other to hear the idea and act on it, and then watch them triumphantly get in the canoe and, sans paddles, move it across the water, and you know that effective leadership often emerges from unexpected places.
I’ve been thinking about that lesson in particular as I’ve thought about the fall season here, and the list of opportunities to lead and serve in this community. Each of us has gifts for leadership in different aspects of life and ministry. Is God calling you to use your God-given leadership gifts in a new and unexpected way here this fall?
As noted in the August newsletter, we are stepping out in faith and trusting that you will provide leadership here in such areas as coordinating our ministry of hospitality – making sure that people are signed up to host coffee hour, coordinating outreach to visitors, scheduling Wii Kirk, planning third Sunday brunch. We trust that you will step up and lead in such capacities as elders on session, of which we need a class of three for 2010. We trust that you will step up and lead our Christian education efforts in teaching Sunday school.
You have been given remarkable gifts, and have tremendous capacity for leadership. Where are you called to lead now?
The most remarkable aspect of leadership in the community of Christ is that the first step in leadership is simply to follow where Christ calls.
posted by David Ensign at
8:54 AM
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