This year, our theme is "the road to renewal." A spiral journey, deepening with each round. The first stage of the journey is action. Good work that grows out of our gifts and vision for society. Extending ourselves in the workplace. Giving to others. Sharing what we have. Paying attention to public issues. Note Bob Slocum's story of staying in the stream of the spirit.
The second stage is nourishment. Recognition that we are famished for real and satisfying enounters. Books. Retreats. Journaling. Soul-food. The invitation to slow down, notice details, pay attention. See Peter Bankson's "Ten Lessons from the Meadow."
This issue is on reflection. Turning inward. Entering invisible realms of thought and intuition, creativity and making connections. Meditate. Pray. Dream. Walk in the woods. Let the love of God flow through you. Let your grief rise, your heart open. Let yourself be changed. Read Kathy Cochrane's article "Thrush Music."
Everything in our culture conspires against reflection: noise, speed, getting and spending. Programs tell us what to think, what to buy, how to act. Even church programs come packaged to compete with other forms of entertainment. Moments of silence are hard to find and when we do, we don't know how to reflect. Instead we blame and accuse. Donna Schaper names the dilemma.
Thirty years ago, I read Elizabeth O'Connor's Journey Inward, Journey Outward, in which she showed me the narrow gate that leads to life. I knew the wide road of unconscious behavior, moving with the crowd and out of touch with my true self. I assumed that because I knew about the narrow way, I was on it. But when I read her book, I knew I was not.
O'Connor spoke of three engagements on the inward journey. The first is with oneself. Asking questions. Wondering why. Digging below the surface. In many ways, we have consigned this realm to therapists and made the church a place to be good instead of real. Sam Shoemaker, founder of FAW, preached the value of confession. Self-examination. Becoming conscious of how and why we act the way we do so we are not constantly seeking validation from others. Susan Gregg-Schroeder speaks to that.
The second engagement is with God. O'Connor notes that we may confuse knowing self with knowing God but that would make "our God" too small. Meditation on the majesty of God may seem impossible today--unless we ask science about the mysteries of the cosmos and let prayer become a conduit for love that passes understanding. Entering scripture with imagination and prayer is a sure way to develop our relationship with God as Frank Butler writes.
And the third engagement is with others. If we seriously believe that Christ does the calling into a Christian community, then we do not get to be selective about who is there to be loved--and to love us. As we grow in depth relationship with people unlike ourselves, O'Connor writes, "the horizons of our little worlds are enlarged."
Today, Elizabeth O'Connor has survived major surgeries, chemo and radiation, and is writing about the mysterious road to renewal that our dying can be. Though she must guard her energy, she is centered and well. The horizons of her world are large and the generosity of her spirit, deep. In this Jubilee Year at Church of the Saviour, nine vital churches have claimed their independent identities and Gordon Cosby continues to call forth new little groups, each dedicated to a particular mission.
As I prepare to take my sabbatical from Faith at Work this fall, I look forward to co-leading the continuing education program at Virginia (Episcopal) Seminary and having more time for reflection. I think of it as a chance to clear debris from the wellspring of living water that is Christ.
While I am away from the office, Bill Johnson will be running the day-to-day operations here and Suzanne Schmidt (see her article on page 23) will be the Acting President. Please keep the staff and ministry of Faith at Work in your prayers in this season of reflection.