The soul is not some metaphysical construct, not separate from the body, mind and emotions. The soul is the same essence as, is the spark from, the Divine, and so theologians struggle to find metaphors for something that is omnipresent within each person. Ronald Rolheiser defines it: "Our soul is not something that we have, it is more something we are. It is the very life-pulse within us, that which makes us alive."(Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing, New York, NY: Doubleday, 1999, p. 12) So, keeping the soul cannot neglect the physical self, the mental self, the emotional self, or any part of one's self. Keeping the soul is central to each person's health, wholeness and well-being. Paradoxically, why then is soul keeping such a challenge, especially for ministry?
There is a certain inherent arrogance, yet vulnerability in many of the helping professions. Feeling the call to ministry, to teaching, or to service says on one hand that one knows that she has something worthwhile to give, while on the other, when facing burnout, fearing that there's really nothing worth giving inside. This echoes the dynamic in the soul as the desire to give, and give—pouring out energy, is balanced against our need to seek union and communion with the divine, with the still small voice in ourselves. Rolheiser explains that the soul has two functions: it must keep us energized and vibrant, full of desire, and it must keep us glued together or integrated, in oneness, and that "these two functions of the soul are always in a creative tension." (Rolheiser, p. 13-14.) If these two functions are out of balance, then going to the extreme of either can lead to one's end: a wild dissipation of energy or a slow stultification or turning completely inward and stagnant. Soul keeping then must include the practices that provide energy, the practices that encourage oneness, and the practices that bring those two into balance. Through life's demands, as ministers and as people, we lose touch with either our desires or our integration, or sometimes both. As we seek recovery in our spiritual selves, we then have to recognize our default soul patterns, and have to find compensating practices, and incentivizing and motivating practices to restore balance. Soul keeping is about finding and owning the spiritual practices that both fill the energy well, and sustain the integrated self: mind, body, spirit. It is not just about the reflective and quiet; it must also be about the vibrant and exciting. Soul keeping may be alone or within community or sometimes, too often, in spite of the community.
Where to start then, with those practices? "This is the first, wildest, and wisest thing I know," says Mary Oliver, "that the soul exists, and that it is built entirely out of attentiveness." (Quoted in Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness, San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass, 2004, p. 34.) Thus out of the tension of the soul's creative functions must come attention, and also intention, a stretching toward (from the Latin tendere) that is both readiness and resolve. (Webster's 9th Collegiate dictionary) Webster's Dictionary alternatively defines attention as notice or observation. First, then, in soul keeping, especially as ministers, we need to open our eyes, our ears, our selves to what is around us. Especially in things that don't nurture our souls we are barraged with what's going on, and that is much of the problem, because it leads to inattention. "Two streams in our culture contribute to our inattention. One is secularism, which regards the human self as a social construct with no created core; the other is moralism, which regards all concern for self as "selfish." (Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness, p. 35.) To pay attention, we must know or discover the love of God the creator for each of us, and we must reflect that love for and in ourselves and in everything else as part of God's creation. We are unique souls, loving, loved and lovable. We must tend ourselves, and love ourselves.
All of the practices that we have discussed, have done, and continue to do link together, and as well link to that great commandment of love present in all of the great faith traditions. It is, in summary, to love ourselves, our neighbors and our God. I define spirituality as being in relationship with yourself, others, the Other--as you experience or express that which is greater than you, and with all of creation/the universe. We are all spiritual beings, and it is my hope that in sharing these practices with you that you and I are becoming more spiritually, mentally and emotionally healthy and whole and able to be in loving relationship with ourselves and with others and with God, the Divine and Whole Other. Perhaps we are not yet Olympic caliber in our emotional, mental and spiritual health, but we have practices that point the way.
Thank you for sharing yourselves, your stories, your sacred time and for listening attentively to my stories as well. My thanks also to those classmates, colleagues, teachers and spiritual leaders who companion me and have guided and are guiding my own work and journey on this path for spiritual wholeness. I hope that they see the fruit of their work and of the Spirit reflected here. I suspect this will be my final posting on this blog for a while, as I must focus on other projects for a while. I welcome your comments both here and directly.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Monday, October 8, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Grieving: fear as part of loss
Read this famous scripture about fear: Luke 1: 28-31
--What works to banish your fears or anxieties? What convinces you to "fear not?"
Practices:
Too often we mistake material gifts as a substitute for being present with ourselves, for our loved ones and with God. We make idols of many things rather than turning to God. One definition of spiritual health considers our ability to turn to God in love, rather than to idols in fear as a key to spiritual health.
"Repeatedly, humans create false Gods to worship. Even when we have formally pledged our allegiance to the living God, we still can't stop ourselves from this tendency to create and cling to false gods. … Idol making is fueled by our innate insecurity with human existence itself, with our creatureliness, with our perceived powerlessness over the forces that control us. Fueled by this anxiety, we are driven to idolize.
Anything, even good things, can be made into a god, especially in the context of bereavement. … Idolatry occurs when something that is less than God is set up as a god. Nearly anything can be made into a god. In ancient times it was the attributes of nature—there were sun gods and gods of thunder and gods that dwelt in the ocean depths. … Caesar was treated like a god, as were the pharaohs of Egypt. … In more modern times, we find people who worship success, fame, power, status and wealth. They live for their gods just as surely as the ancients did for theirs.
Whether ancient or modern, however, idols are always essentially temporary, not eternal. … The fact that false gods are essentially temporary in nature, in contrast to the living God who is eternal, is a helpful distinction to keep in mind as we approach a discussion of loss in later life. We grieve over "attachments" in life that are temporary.
Another central feature of idolatry is that these lesser gods are almost always concrete or visible entities. … Normally, we see only God's trace after God has passed by: God's work and God's action after the fact. Worshiping this kind of God requires great trust. It is much easier for humans to worship the false gods, who are more concrete and whose benefits are more tangible.
The false god's appeal is always to something we need or feel we need to survive. Most of these needs, in proper perspective, are normal human needs. We need food, safety, self-esteem, love, and a sense of transcendence. [The paradox of idols is that] they are human creations, products of our own anxieties, and therefore, temporary, limited, finite, and concrete. Their promises are short-sighted." (R. Scott Sullender, Losses in Later Life: A New Way of Walking with God, 2nd edition, New York: Haworth Press, 1999, excerpts from p. 17-22.)
It is recognizing and accepting our own finiteness as a part of creation that we come to terms with our fears. It is through love that we grow in faith to do so. Even our ability to grieve and let go and go on in later years is a sign of our spiritual health and faith, as we are freed from our fears through faith in God's love. Where love is, God is there, and we can let go of fear.
--What works to banish your fears or anxieties? What convinces you to "fear not?"
Practices:
Too often we mistake material gifts as a substitute for being present with ourselves, for our loved ones and with God. We make idols of many things rather than turning to God. One definition of spiritual health considers our ability to turn to God in love, rather than to idols in fear as a key to spiritual health.
"Repeatedly, humans create false Gods to worship. Even when we have formally pledged our allegiance to the living God, we still can't stop ourselves from this tendency to create and cling to false gods. … Idol making is fueled by our innate insecurity with human existence itself, with our creatureliness, with our perceived powerlessness over the forces that control us. Fueled by this anxiety, we are driven to idolize.
Anything, even good things, can be made into a god, especially in the context of bereavement. … Idolatry occurs when something that is less than God is set up as a god. Nearly anything can be made into a god. In ancient times it was the attributes of nature—there were sun gods and gods of thunder and gods that dwelt in the ocean depths. … Caesar was treated like a god, as were the pharaohs of Egypt. … In more modern times, we find people who worship success, fame, power, status and wealth. They live for their gods just as surely as the ancients did for theirs.
Whether ancient or modern, however, idols are always essentially temporary, not eternal. … The fact that false gods are essentially temporary in nature, in contrast to the living God who is eternal, is a helpful distinction to keep in mind as we approach a discussion of loss in later life. We grieve over "attachments" in life that are temporary.
Another central feature of idolatry is that these lesser gods are almost always concrete or visible entities. … Normally, we see only God's trace after God has passed by: God's work and God's action after the fact. Worshiping this kind of God requires great trust. It is much easier for humans to worship the false gods, who are more concrete and whose benefits are more tangible.
The false god's appeal is always to something we need or feel we need to survive. Most of these needs, in proper perspective, are normal human needs. We need food, safety, self-esteem, love, and a sense of transcendence. [The paradox of idols is that] they are human creations, products of our own anxieties, and therefore, temporary, limited, finite, and concrete. Their promises are short-sighted." (R. Scott Sullender, Losses in Later Life: A New Way of Walking with God, 2nd edition, New York: Haworth Press, 1999, excerpts from p. 17-22.)
It is recognizing and accepting our own finiteness as a part of creation that we come to terms with our fears. It is through love that we grow in faith to do so. Even our ability to grieve and let go and go on in later years is a sign of our spiritual health and faith, as we are freed from our fears through faith in God's love. Where love is, God is there, and we can let go of fear.
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