Day 12 -- Wilderness on This Twelfth Day of Advent

Wilderness gets a bad reputation in much of literature. Think of Hawthorne's "Young Goodman Brown" and Dante waking in the middle of a dark wilderness. Before I lose readers in my literary allusions, I'll cut this reminiscence short with the comment: the wilderness is only scary if one is lost or the woods are on fire (Bambi).

Mary and Joseph are not lost; they're simply on their journey to Bethlehem at my house and encountered a bit of "wilderness." The wilderness can be a time of paying attention, of being reverent. Barbara Brown Taylor writes in An Altar in the World: "We pay attention to the speedometer, the wristwatch, the cell phone, the list of things to do, all of which feed our illusion that life is manageable. Meanwhile, none of them meets the first criteria for reverence, which is to remind us that we are not gods" (24). The wilderness, much as Advent calls us to do, beckons us to slow down and take in the beauty.

I would say the Creator of the wilderness blessed it with an atmosphere of refreshment and wonder. For the most part, the wilderness remains so. One still has to pay attention; it is, after all, a wild place, a place we can not tame.  There are natural cycles of drought and rain, cycles of fire and growth, but there are also surges of unnatural dryness created by cement jungles and unnatural fires born out of greed -- perhaps these are our vain attempts to be in control.

However, as I wait during Advent for the celebration to come, I will wait for the days when "the beasts of the field will not be afraid, the pastures of the wilderness will spring forth, the trees will bear fruit.." (Joel 2:22).

I will practice knowing that God is present in the wilderness. I will practice slowing down and paying attention. I will practice reverence. 

God Comforts Me

Have you ever gone back to something you have written and discovered how many mistakes you have made? That's what I did this morning. I looked back over yesterday's post, and I counted at least five errors. (Yes, former students, the green ink flowed freely -- in my mind -- over the page.)Of course, the mistakes were made in a post read by more than the usual number of readers (more than my mom and best friends). I wrote: "get on on" instead of "get it on my Kindle." The whole post focuses on the compassionate life, yet I wrote "the contemplative life ascribes value"; it certainly may in other contexts, but I intended to write "the compassionate life ascribes value to everything the Creator has created." I did not even copy the psalm down correctly. It makes more sense for "grain" to go to the eater instead of "great." And, heavens oh heavens, I lacked enough transition between the "trees of the field clapped their hands" and Jesus caring for the least of these. He does care for the trees but the least of these are people who society undervalues.  

Can I blame it on listening to the thud of pieces of my beautiful tree falling to the ground as I typed yesterday? Each time the house rattled, my dog sitting inside with me would start howling.I felt like joining her. I do realize this situation pales in comparison to tragic situations going on throughout the world. It even pales in comparison to some circumstances in my life last year, in the last five years. However, the image of this beautiful tree now cut down symbolizes fairly well changes, large and small, tragic or just disruptive.

My original plan was to practice a particular thread or stream of life one day and write about it the next. As I went about my day yesterday, I wondered how I was going to write about the spirit-filled life in a practical way. Yes, the Spirit is practical; yes, there are plenty of stories to tell; however, how to convey those stories without sounding crazy or prideful right now seems beyond my skill level. 

I decided to return to Frank Laubach's letters, and throw in some interesting passages from a new-to-me author, Trevor Hudson. I'll start with Trevor's first. 

"During the '70s and '80s some readers may recall an explosion of interest in the holy Spirit around the world. The so-called charismatic movement brought renewal to the lives of millions of Christ-followers. Many people, including myself, found themselves experiencing God in a new, fresh, and living way. Strikingly, a number of church leaders in South Africa who stood at the forefront of the struggle against apartheid at that time also participated in this wave of the Spirit. Involvement in the struggle for justice taking place on the streets required an empowerment that only the Spirit could give. This interest in God's Spirit also manifested unhelpful aspects. its focus on experiencing the Spirit led many into a search for mere spiritual thrills. We may find ourselves easily titillated by various phenomena when it comes to openness to the Spirit. Congregational division surfaced around these phenomena. One negative aspect was the casual way in which people sometimes referred to the Spirit. I still remember being asked, "Have you got it?" I never felt sure of how to answer. While I knew the person was referring to the Holy Spirit, sometimes I would jokingly say, 'Of course, I have got it. Why do you think [my wife] married me?" 

"Speaking of the Holy Spirit as an "it" suggests that the Spirit is some kind of invisible force or impersonal power or abstract influence. However, if this were really so, we would be unable to relate personally to the Spirit. Nor could the Holy Spirit guide, comfort, or lead people, which the Bible describes as activity of the Spirit. But even more sadly, regarding the Holy Spirit as an "it" encourages people to do and say some terrible things; often manipulating others to bring about desired effects" (19-20). 

These thoughts cause me to want to be particularly cautious when discussing the Spirit-filled life. I think I can safely write that the Holy Spirit comforted me yesterday in a number of ways. For the sake of safety, my husband and I were told the redwood tree would have to be cut down in small pieces; yet, they were able to cut them down in large enough sections for us to have something of remembrance made out of the wood. My student and I had ordered her textbooks on Monday using regular delivery; yet, they arrived within two days enabling us to start studying. My daughter's box of gifts arrived yesterday. Some want to say those are all coincidences. That's okay. It is also the Holy Spirit's job to reveal Himself; I don't have to force Him on anyone. Now, for Frank Laubach's letter of 7 October 1930. 

"It is the spirit of greed which Jesus said God hated more than any other. It is so diametrically opposite to the spirit of God. For God forever lavishes His gifts upon the good and bad alike, and finds all His joy in endless giving." 

The Compassionate Life and My Redwood Tree

I failed my intended compassion "practice" yesterday. Just thought I should let you know. I went down a list of suggested ways of helping those less fortunate than I, and bypassed each one that took some previous planning. I happened upon the "read a book that discusses social issues" activity: this sounded do-able if I could get on on my Kindle. The two books suggested were The Politics of Jesus and The Upside-Down Kingdom (only the latter was available as an e-book). Don't rail on me if these are horrible books. I have not read them: I just saw them on a list of suggested books. In the middle of ordering the Kindle book, the thought came to me that I still had not sent off any cards to the three girls my husband and I support through World Vision. Being intentional about supporting these girls (in Kenya, India, and Haiti) beyond just monthly financial support is something I want to practice. 

It did not happen yesterday. Each day I just get busy with other appointments and activities (which may be all well and good), and the cards get left in a pile…somewhere. One of my "practices" that helps me to be a more loving thoughtful person is to take care of my mail the minute it comes into the house. I am serious. When we think of spiritual practices, we tend to think of praying, going to church, meditating, etc., but anything that helps us get into a habit of consciously being present to God and to people with love and kindness can be a spiritual practice. 

I ended up ordering the book. Sigh. I could have chosen something like "wash the dishes." I can imagine some eyebrows going up after reading that sentence. Washing dishes for a stay-at-home spouse shows that the one who normally washes dishes is valued. Too often when someone does not have a job, s/he feels s/he has no value. (I know, I know…all you grammarians will just have to overlook my awkward use of s/he.) My spouse does wash the dishes and also shared this duty when I was working full-time. Furthermore,  I actually enjoy washing dishes because I can wash dishes, watch the birds outside my window, and think. Not that I am implying a compassionate action has to be drudgery! Washing dishes just doesn't help me practice giving to anyone. (Maybe I can put it with my contemplation practices. :D) 

Value. Another word for me to contemplate. The contemplative life ascribes value, great value, on what and whom God values. And, God values every person, not because of what that person can do, but because that person exists. Which brings me to my redwood tree. 

As I sit here typing this post, my redwood tree is being cut down. The tree has been a part of my life and the life of my family for over twenty years. We are not taking this action lightly. We value this tree. It has provided shade for us and a home for birds and squirrels for many years. I could name other purposes this tree has served; however, it does have value beyond its purposes. It has a created beauty of its own. Often I would take naps on the living room couch and awaken to views like the ones below. You can comment and tell us how we should not be cutting down the tree (please be kind when you do so), but the roots of the tree are completely uprooting our house. Our fireplace is coming undone, and there are cracks, repairably now, if we stop the tree from invading our home. In answer to those who want to say the tree was there first, it was not. Nor were we the folks who unwisely planted the tree this close to the house. 

How often verses in the Bible tell us to be like a tree (Psalm 1 immediately comes to mind, but there are more than I can list here. ) God values trees. God values what He has created.

Isaiah 55: 10 - 12 speaks not only about trees, but also of how every word spoken by God will accomplish its purpose and "succeed in the thing for which I sent it." 

For as the rain and the snow comes down from heaven, 
And do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, 
Giving seed to the sower and great to the eater, 
So shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; 
It shall not return to me empty, 
But it shall accomplish that which I purpose, 
And succeed in the thing for which I sent it. 

For you shall go out in joy, 
And be led back in peace; 
The mountains and hills before you 
Shall burst into song, 
And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. 

Jesus tells us to do unto the least of these because it is doing it for Him. His word that will not come back empty. He values people, not for their accomplishments, but because He created each and every one. He values everything He has created. How can I do anything less? My hope is that there will be Thursdays where I write about having better days at practicing compassion, at valuing everything and everyone God has created.