The first insight I've had as a Canadian Forces Chaplain has come to me by virtue of the transient nature of the CF workplace.
In a typical job, you begin work knowing you're going to have time to bond with your coworkers, so you become more casual in terms of getting to know them. The time spent together say at lunch or walking to a meeting together is often taken for granted because you anticipate this sort of thing to be routine over the course of your worklife.
But I've discovered at CFB Stadacona that Chaplains here have many work locations, and I have moved into my second office in just 6 short weeks. Plus, because its a Navy base Chaplains are often deployed to sea for months on end, and my office has been a revolving door of co-workers (co-Padres) coming and going. Furthermore, we are ready to recieve two new Chaplains, while others are leaving for courses, postings etc. all the time.
So far the only consistency has been inconsistency.
And here's the thing; I really like my co-workers and have become friends with many of them... So I've really been trying to be more deliberate about making the most of our time together, given the ever-shifting nature of our workplace. I really want to make every encounter count; to have the ears to hear what needs to be heard, and
to have the grace to know what needs to be said.
But then I took a step back and realized that this was really no different than any other situation in life; we truly never know what life will bring, or how and when we will be separated from those we love. What was happening in my workplace was really just a heightening my appreciation for the transient nature of reality, period.
This being said, I must remain attentive to slipping back into autopilot mode where encounters with others slip through the filters of appreciation. A wonderful teacher I've recently discovered along this path has been Evelyn Underhill, through a book of guided meditations called: "Grace through Simplicity: The Practical Spirituality of Evelyn Underhill." Here's a reflection that's been a great help:
Reality is with us
inviting our comtemplation pertpetually
but we are, to be honest,
more often than not too frightened,
lazy, and suspicious to respond.
We are too arrogant to still our thought
and let Reality in,
to let God have his way.
Our vision is hung
with the cobwebs of the mind;
prejudice, cowardice, sloth.
Our souls need a spring cleaning
a turning out, a rearrangement
of our mental furniture;
a wide opening of closed windows
so that the notes of the wild birds
beyond our garden
come to us
fully charged with wonder and freshness
and drown with their music
the noise of the gramophone within.
Opening our souls to reality
requires faith and hard work.
But work at it and we will discover
we have been living in a stuffy world
while our inheritance
is a world of morning glory
where every field mouse
is a celestial messenger
and every thrusting bud
is charged with the full significance of life.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Reflection for the 2nd Week of Lent
***delivered at CFB Shearwater Chapel, March 9 09, Dartmouth NS
The story of Abraham’s willingness to kill his own son is a story that continues to fascinate, and to some extent, horrify us.
God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. Abraham agrees, and takes him up the hill to prepare an altar for human sacrifice. But just when he is about to cut his son’s throat, God brings the Horror Show to a halt and says, “Enough already – I was just testing you! …But congrats you passed the test, and now I will greatly reward you in return with innumerable descendants and protection from enemies etc.”
We find it scandalous and thats the point. Its meant to shock us.
But the thing that we forget about the story is how scandalous it would be for an elderly man 5000 yrs ago to sacrifice a child, especially a son. Back then they had no pension funds, no money in the bank; and like many 3rd world countries today, having offspring was their way of ensuring they were cared for in their twilight years. But Abraham throws even THIS into the wind as he brings Issac up the hill for slaughter, passionatley following the will of God.
But the shock in this story is to drive home a point. The story of Abraham—when you get down to its bare bones—is a story of God’s goodness. But it is a goodness that comes only after Abraham is stripped of his attachments and places himself whole-heartedly in the hands of God.
But how far have we come from this principle. Rather than letting go and trusting in God, we live in a world that attempts to eliminate every possible contingency of human life.
We live in a world of Life Insurance, Health Insurance, Unemployment Insurance, Car Insurance, House Insurance, RRSPs, GICs, Investment Portfolios. The list goes on and on.
We tend to construct our reality to resemble a giant barricade against the unknown;
a shield against the Big Bad Whatif.
This is not a bad thing; it’s obviously very responsible.
But we can easily get caught up in it. If we focus only on building that fortress around our selves and our immediate interests, it will not be long before we discover that our fortress actually resembles a prison. This fortress mentality can turn us completely inwards and cut us off from our call to be present to the other. And this seriously impedes our relationship with God.
A good counterpoint to this can be found in one of my favorite Bruce Coburn lyrics: “Some will run, some will stand, everything is empty but the open hand.” The point is, How can we live with an open hand when we’re using those hands only to build our private fortresses?
I’m thinking about these questions because I am entering a phase in my life where I am discerning marriage, and am thinking about how my decisions and what happens to me is going to deeply, deeply impact other people in my life.
And to be honest, there’s an anxiety creeping in. I too am finding myself seduced into fortress building mode, and recognize that I have to be vigilant against it.
So I asked my good friend about this; he’s a wise man with 9 children and many more grandchildren. He said to me, “You know Stephen, life is about doing your best but then letting go. The more you try to impose expectations on people or situations, the more you will be disappointed. This notion of any kind of profound ‘control’ over life is absurd.”
When I heard this it struck a chord deep inside me that resonated with my faith.
I thought: Isn't this true? Doesn’t it so often feel like we’re at the mercy of mysterious forces, coincidences and events? Isn’t it true that no matter what barriers we try to throw up to protect ourselves, we are perpetually vulnerable? What good is it then to cling to illusions of control in such a universe?
However this is where the Gospel comes into the picture. That’s the good news that releases us from this anxiety. If we truly ‘live and dwell and have our being in God,’ what can trouble us? Or again, from our Second reading from Romans 8: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?”
Faith itself is an invitation to surrender our burdens at the feet of Him who loves us so much he would give up even his beloved Son.
And this is what Lent is really about, because after all, why did Jesus retreat into the desert in the first place? Because the desert is a place of solitude, a place to strip away all those distractions and illusions that hold us back from what is truly important in life, those things that keep us from realizing ‘that everything is empty but the open hand.”
And so we pray;
Gracious and loving God, Help us truly meditate upon our profound vulnerability; strip away all our distractions, attachments, and fantasies of invincibility. And we ask that you free us from anxiety by helping us to ‘let go’, drawing us deeper into your Holy Mystery, and thereby making space in our hearts for the other.
The story of Abraham’s willingness to kill his own son is a story that continues to fascinate, and to some extent, horrify us.
God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. Abraham agrees, and takes him up the hill to prepare an altar for human sacrifice. But just when he is about to cut his son’s throat, God brings the Horror Show to a halt and says, “Enough already – I was just testing you! …But congrats you passed the test, and now I will greatly reward you in return with innumerable descendants and protection from enemies etc.”
We find it scandalous and thats the point. Its meant to shock us.
But the thing that we forget about the story is how scandalous it would be for an elderly man 5000 yrs ago to sacrifice a child, especially a son. Back then they had no pension funds, no money in the bank; and like many 3rd world countries today, having offspring was their way of ensuring they were cared for in their twilight years. But Abraham throws even THIS into the wind as he brings Issac up the hill for slaughter, passionatley following the will of God.
But the shock in this story is to drive home a point. The story of Abraham—when you get down to its bare bones—is a story of God’s goodness. But it is a goodness that comes only after Abraham is stripped of his attachments and places himself whole-heartedly in the hands of God.
But how far have we come from this principle. Rather than letting go and trusting in God, we live in a world that attempts to eliminate every possible contingency of human life.
We live in a world of Life Insurance, Health Insurance, Unemployment Insurance, Car Insurance, House Insurance, RRSPs, GICs, Investment Portfolios. The list goes on and on.
We tend to construct our reality to resemble a giant barricade against the unknown;
a shield against the Big Bad Whatif.
This is not a bad thing; it’s obviously very responsible.
But we can easily get caught up in it. If we focus only on building that fortress around our selves and our immediate interests, it will not be long before we discover that our fortress actually resembles a prison. This fortress mentality can turn us completely inwards and cut us off from our call to be present to the other. And this seriously impedes our relationship with God.
A good counterpoint to this can be found in one of my favorite Bruce Coburn lyrics: “Some will run, some will stand, everything is empty but the open hand.” The point is, How can we live with an open hand when we’re using those hands only to build our private fortresses?
I’m thinking about these questions because I am entering a phase in my life where I am discerning marriage, and am thinking about how my decisions and what happens to me is going to deeply, deeply impact other people in my life.
And to be honest, there’s an anxiety creeping in. I too am finding myself seduced into fortress building mode, and recognize that I have to be vigilant against it.
So I asked my good friend about this; he’s a wise man with 9 children and many more grandchildren. He said to me, “You know Stephen, life is about doing your best but then letting go. The more you try to impose expectations on people or situations, the more you will be disappointed. This notion of any kind of profound ‘control’ over life is absurd.”
When I heard this it struck a chord deep inside me that resonated with my faith.
I thought: Isn't this true? Doesn’t it so often feel like we’re at the mercy of mysterious forces, coincidences and events? Isn’t it true that no matter what barriers we try to throw up to protect ourselves, we are perpetually vulnerable? What good is it then to cling to illusions of control in such a universe?
However this is where the Gospel comes into the picture. That’s the good news that releases us from this anxiety. If we truly ‘live and dwell and have our being in God,’ what can trouble us? Or again, from our Second reading from Romans 8: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?”
Faith itself is an invitation to surrender our burdens at the feet of Him who loves us so much he would give up even his beloved Son.
And this is what Lent is really about, because after all, why did Jesus retreat into the desert in the first place? Because the desert is a place of solitude, a place to strip away all those distractions and illusions that hold us back from what is truly important in life, those things that keep us from realizing ‘that everything is empty but the open hand.”
And so we pray;
Gracious and loving God, Help us truly meditate upon our profound vulnerability; strip away all our distractions, attachments, and fantasies of invincibility. And we ask that you free us from anxiety by helping us to ‘let go’, drawing us deeper into your Holy Mystery, and thereby making space in our hearts for the other.
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