tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64225664430795957072024-03-21T13:46:59.408-07:00Good Enough TogetherJonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-39080041934115255902015-06-11T17:30:00.000-07:002015-06-11T17:30:16.876-07:00Home-Coming<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMUtF4X8rD_2czSVsvo1TgFBld_pFTEDtTkby-6YEg7qHSwYGzy_7C3Bjg7dPz4vSnKfHIoc9EaMuHZ1HY1DSm9NJ2DWETFS_pa__yYB1Bw6ygiT_L6ifdZLWUN-kn36Qr8c0miGSFbM/s1600/ASA_Nashville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMUtF4X8rD_2czSVsvo1TgFBld_pFTEDtTkby-6YEg7qHSwYGzy_7C3Bjg7dPz4vSnKfHIoc9EaMuHZ1HY1DSm9NJ2DWETFS_pa__yYB1Bw6ygiT_L6ifdZLWUN-kn36Qr8c0miGSFbM/s200/ASA_Nashville.jpg" width="142" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It has become a familiar refrain. As a parent helping two young boys
process difficult and often overwhelming emotions it has proven invaluable. “Use
your words,”<i> </i>I say often in response
to the whining, amidst the stomping and screaming. I’ve seen the results – not
immediately - but over time and with practice and patience, they are indeed finding
their words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And it can be easy to forget how truly difficult that can be – not just
for children but for adults as well - to comply with this seemingly simple
request. How often do I fail to use my words to express how I’m feeling, to ask
for help, even when I have a pretty clear handle on what is troubling me? And,
of course, many times still I, too, can’t actually find the words. This last few
months has been one of those times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We recently decided to move from Nashville to Charleston. And while
Jill and I have both moved many times, this decision has been more challenging
in a number of ways. Jill has commented that it’s the first time she’s decided
to leave somewhere before it felt time to go – to which I’ve often quipped, “Yeah,
I guess we’re ‘Seinfelding.’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I think it’s been hard because it feels like an actual uprooting. We
have grown to love this place. It is Nashville where we bought our first home
together. It is Vanderbilt where we became a family of three and then four. It
is East Nashville where family and friends helped us stumble into this new role
of parent. It is 401 N. 16<sup>th</sup> St. – our “baker’s bungalow” - where we
played “tickle-monster;” these Lockeland Springs sidewalks where we went on
“super-hero patrol.” It is here where I found myself living out a great turn of
phrase from a Rockwell Church song - I “stopped growing up and started growing
in.” It is here where we together began in earnest to <i>make a home</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It’s been hard because the dynamics have changed. Decisions are now
made <i>with</i> someone and, at least for
the time being, <i>for</i> our two little
ones. I have been rather adventurous through the years but there is a new level
of responsibility and accountability that I’m learning to balance along with
self-interest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It’s been hard because there is so much that I do not know. I do not
know if I’ll be able to find another employer like Gilda’s Club Nashville; a special
place that offers rewarding work and an all-too-rare work/life balance that
allows me to be the husband and father I aspire to be. I do not yet know what
house we will live in, if our neighborhood will have the same feeling of
community, if the boys will make the transition to a whole-new-everything
smoothly. And yet it is here, fortunately, that I have grown – through the
exploration of theological education as well as the demands of parenting – to
be more comfortable with uncertainty; more willing to release the illusion of
control; more at peace with the unknown. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Of course, amidst the unknown, here is what I <i>do</i> know. I know that I want my sons to know their grandparents <i>well</i>. I want to spend time with family
and friends while the getting-is-good and be a go-to person when time is
running short. I want to be planted firmly and deeply wherever I am. I want to know
a place intimately, be able to recognize the subtle changes and appreciate the
beauty that is only recognizable from deep familiarity. I want to contribute to
a broader community beyond my personal network. I want to know and be known
more fully. I want to be more at home in this world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I do not know how long we will be in this new place despite our
expectations that it will indeed be awhile. But I do know that I plan to be <i>all in</i>. We will unpack <i>all</i> the boxes and finally hang those
pictures on the wall. We will meet our neighbors and invest in making our
community a better place not just for our two sons but for those around us –
particularly the less fortunate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And I know, too, that I am good enough, that we have enough; that we
will receive enough; not in some perfect-as-we-planned-it way but rather in a
pretty-as-graffiti/this is our unique journey/make a mosaic out of our
fragments sort of way. And I sense, somewhere deep down below the anxieties and
uncertainties, that this move is the next important step in <i>making a home</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And so, for us, this process of <i>making
a home</i> involves replanting ourselves closer to family; it includes a
renewed commitment to cultivating the meaningful relationships that have
supported us along the way – that have been the water and soil and light we
needed at each moment – and to nourishing some fledgling relationships that we
hope will blossom further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But this next step of <i>making a home</i>
has been hard because it is drawing us away from a place that already feels so
much like home. And so, for months it seems, it has been difficult to find my
words. Instead, I’ve been grumpy and sullen, restless and impatient, leaving
those around me to wonder what is wrong, what is brewing underneath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, now it seems high time that I use my words. I am sad to leave a
community that embodies many of the values that I hold dear. I am anxious that
we may not find a fit that feels so comfortable, so natural. I am uncertain if
the boys will remember this place and just how special and formative it was for
them. I am frustrated that doors have not opened as easily or quickly as I
would have liked. I am grateful for the kindness shown our family; for
neighbors who housed us during a renovation debacle; for classmates and colleagues
who fed us to help ease the transition into parenthood; for child care
providers and teachers who nurtured and challenged our boys to grow. I am eager
to get a kayak to explore my new surroundings. I am excited about the wide-open
possibilities of a fresh start. I am buoyed by the boys’ enthusiastic
anticipation of being much closer to their cousins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidE3iBv_BSNW6DlQc4hASMSndddriExf3vkKsHaO0Fg7VQAszskuXKm4E6guZLd3UqSrw1W2FCrUPURgQMijWIwRUjBv38yIqbSjB1i4y8WEBaFuyrkdWRjunbDlF4UQw_H-WTeHTaiKM/s1600/ASA_Charleston1002_RGB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidE3iBv_BSNW6DlQc4hASMSndddriExf3vkKsHaO0Fg7VQAszskuXKm4E6guZLd3UqSrw1W2FCrUPURgQMijWIwRUjBv38yIqbSjB1i4y8WEBaFuyrkdWRjunbDlF4UQw_H-WTeHTaiKM/s200/ASA_Charleston1002_RGB.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Anderson and Nathan, this move has been undertaken largely with you two
in mind. It is a commitment to building a family, it is another step in <i>making a home</i>. Wherever life will take
you, will take us, we want you to be deeply grounded in where and from whom you
have come – with all that that encompasses. This is a gift we want to give you;
and also a gift we know we need, too. Poet Mary Oliver asks, “what is it you
plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” As for me, I will endeavor to
live intentionally, give generously, experience fully, love wastefully. I will make
a home. Thank you Music City for the song; we will be singing along for many
years to come. And thanks to each of you – neighbors, friends, colleagues -
that have made it special; have made it home. This is home, and yet we are now
home-<i>coming</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">* Images courtesy of <a href="https://www.andersondesigngroupstore.com/index.html" target="_blank">Anderson Design Group</a> - in Nashville of course</span></div>
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Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-27715898606441455722015-02-08T19:09:00.002-08:002015-02-08T19:24:58.005-08:00Pointing Back to Coach Dean Smith<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIoYGpj3WPonu1Lnz-mm-CFOWbwfHCvt-Q-63J9uWkF1GqbqtXZjQaHVQKFzmDu9QCv6cM9VkumoQkSOEelZVjzZZ4cOYmhRQ_0sY1_Z0NjLkod1jKleSQPosLmme7oM-AHX8QHoZtuU/s1600/DeanSmith_CharlieScott.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIoYGpj3WPonu1Lnz-mm-CFOWbwfHCvt-Q-63J9uWkF1GqbqtXZjQaHVQKFzmDu9QCv6cM9VkumoQkSOEelZVjzZZ4cOYmhRQ_0sY1_Z0NjLkod1jKleSQPosLmme7oM-AHX8QHoZtuU/s1600/DeanSmith_CharlieScott.jpeg" height="220" width="320" /></a></div>
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Late in his coaching tenure at UNC there was some hushed
speculation regarding whether the game might be passing Coach Dean Smith by. I’m
ashamed to admit that I occasionally entertained that possibility. Now I know
differently.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As UNC and Tar Heel nation work to recover from a painful chapter in our storied history; as we reflect on the
professionalization of college athletics and the rampant self-aggrandizement inherent
in the “brand of me” & “an army of one;” it seems clear to me now. <i>The game wasn’t passing him by, we were
losing our way.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Now, I know we can’t go back to some naively idealized version
of the good ‘ole days. But it is certainly possible to reclaim & recommit
to values & virtues that have always served us well beyond the court or
field. Let’s remember that sports are a powerful means to an end; not the end
of wealth or fame although that comes for a very elite few. It is the means to
the end of teamwork, determination, hustle, learning to celebrate with humility
and deal with disappointment & failure with grace. It is a means for
developing perseverance and resilience and a means for camaraderie &
connection. It is a means for learning to be coachable while also honing your
leadership skills.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sports are indeed a great laboratory for learning how to win…in
life. And Dean Smith kept his eye on that ball; that winning in life is more
important than winning on the court and that winning in life is about so much
more than money or immediate success. Winning in life is about relationships –
about making a difference; whatever difference one can make…and then pointing
back to whoever helped you score.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Despite our frequent desire to claim otherwise, there are no
self-made people. Dean Smith understood, taught & modelled that so much
better than most. Whether you are a Tar Heel or not, you’re part of a team. You
have a role to play. And, like it or not, we need each other. </div>
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My coaching will likely never take place on anything bigger
than a little league field. But I hope that the way I coach and parent and
mentor and live will reflect much of how Dean Smith coached; will reflect the
Carolina Way which at its core is simply a way that leads to humility, growth, the
intimate connections of community, generosity, and meaning from
this precious gift we call life.</div>
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Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-79819787324544640972013-12-13T14:15:00.002-08:002013-12-13T14:15:55.124-08:00All the Little Lights<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OBWYkQ9KFJ-WB_oeEqnHX4gecm_q_CKwZMCuLEVZLsboCLiBuwfq-8Q2Vvk2WK_TMHCd2BpZsVsnOi2rPNahaAEpVNGsK-f5SHOsbnYLcnWNhAbquItQlck4B6qDcSZmCFXuOSGmOGc/s1600/Candles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OBWYkQ9KFJ-WB_oeEqnHX4gecm_q_CKwZMCuLEVZLsboCLiBuwfq-8Q2Vvk2WK_TMHCd2BpZsVsnOi2rPNahaAEpVNGsK-f5SHOsbnYLcnWNhAbquItQlck4B6qDcSZmCFXuOSGmOGc/s1600/Candles.jpg" height="200" width="143" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 14pt;">Just so
you know - our holiday cards are not yet on the way. In fact, they haven't even
been ordered yet. But this post contains a lot more than I could include in a
card anyway. It's my humble contribution to the holiday spirit that surrounds
us - the feel good videos on facebook; the glow of decorated homes in the
neighborhood. Now, a piece on grief & darkness that I recently shared at a
candlelight remembrance service might not be your primary idea of holiday cheer
but I hope you'll read it anyway. Because, most gatherings of family &
friends usually have at least a minor bittersweet element, right? Each year
brings change - much of it welcome. But each year, too, brings absence,
unwelcome change. An uncle too ill to travel this year; a friend with whom we
are no longer on speaking terms; a parent or child that has died. And holidays
have a way of accentuating those voids in our lives. So, as we gather to break
bread, tell stories, reconnect & laugh - let us cry together, too. Because
all of it - the good & the bad, the pretty & the ugly, the joy &
the sorrow - are what bind us together. </span><span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 14pt;">All The Little Lights</span></i><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 14pt;">Gilda's Club Nashville<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 14pt;">2013 Night of Remembrance<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">And so we gather together to contemplate the darkness – by sharing the light.
Just as the glow of the candles now illuminates our space & your faces, so
the lives of our loved ones are reflected in who each of us is. Of course,
there are sentimental recollections of good memories – of poignant & tender
encounters – of infectious joy. And yet, we must acknowledge, too, that it has
not always been easy – or pretty – and yet it has been real. As Leonard Cohen
reminds us, “Love is not a victory march. It is a cold & it is a <a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/leonardcohen/hallelujah.html">broken hallelujah</a>.” It is our shared experience.
It is your story. It is a flame that will not be extinguished.<br />
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“Light & Dark” as a metaphor permeates our culture, our process of
meaning-making, our faith traditions. Perhaps you recall as a child singing,
“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” And there is the lovely
concept of <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/practices/Ethics/Caring_For_Others/Tikkun_Olam_Repairing_the_World_.shtml"><i>Tikkun olam</i></a> which calls for humanity to
work together to “heal the world” by “gathering shards of divine light.” And
many of you are likely familiar with the Sanskrit salutation, <i>Namaste</i>,
which has many interpretations - one of which is “the light in me honors the
light in you.”<br />
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Recently, I heard theologian & Princeton professor, <a href="http://religion.princeton.edu/main/people/all-people/core-faculty/elaine-pagels/">Dr. Elaine Pagels</a>, speak at Vanderbilt. As she
talked about the shared creation story of the world’s three Abrahamic faith
traditions she caught my attention with the observation, “Darkness <b><i>is</i></b>,
light must be created.” Darkness <b><i>is</i></b>, light must be created. <b><i>We</i></b> are
that light. Of course, all the faith traditions have their brightest of lights
- a messiah, a prophet, a guru - but, I believe we, too, contain & create
that light. Our loved ones have created that light for us. And so we gather
tonight to create, gather & reflect the light - the love - that we need.<br />
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I heard a song recently called “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2gr0XQxbi4">All
the Little Lights</a>” that describes this process of creating light
this way:<br />
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<i>“We’re born with millions of little lights shining in the dark<br />
And they show us the way<br />
One lights up, every time we feel love in our hearts<br />
One dies when it moves away”</i><br />
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“Darkness Is.” Thankfully, for most of us, Darkness is not <b><i>all</i></b> of
our reality but it surely is a prevalent component of this strange &
difficult & beautiful thing we call life. And it is a part of life that we,
too often, are tempted & encouraged to avoid, ignore, even deny. I heard an <a href="http://v-e-n-u-e.com/In-Search-of-Darkness-An-Interview-with-Paul-Bogard">interview recently with Paul Bogard</a> – an
English professor at James Madison – about his book, “The End of Night:
Searching for Natural Darkness in an Age of Artificial Light.” Now, he speaks
of our literal “fear of the dark”; how we are illuminating every room, every
stoop, every street corner of our planet to the point that stars are rarely
seen in the night sky of our urban areas. Our fear of the dark is driving us to
the delusion that we may be able to eliminate it. And it seems we are
encouraged to approach emotional darkness in much the same way. But in Bogard’s
book he talks about how two English poets of the Romantic Movement, Samuel
Taylor Coleridge & William Wordsworth, would meet in the middle of the
night to walk the streets together – talking, taking in the sky & stars.<br />
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<i>Night Walking</i> – what an interesting metaphor for what we are doing
here. And if we allow ourselves to enter a dark space we are quickly reminded,
of course, of how our eyes adjust – opening wider to accentuate whatever light
exists. We begin to see familiar things in new ways. As priest & writer <a href="http://www.henrinouwen.org/About_Henri/About_Henri.aspx">Henri Nouwen</a> explains, “As soon as we feel
at home in our own house, discover the dark corners as well as the light spots,
the closed doors as well as the drafty rooms, our confusion will evaporate, our
anxiety will diminish, and we will be capable of creative work.”<br />
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So, given this darkness-avoidant/grief-avoidant milieu in which we find
ourselves it is particularly important to acknowledge & affirm how
courageous each & every one of you is for being here tonight. I mean this
sincerely. It can be hard to allow ourselves the room to grieve, much less find
the oh-so-critical public spaces like this to mourn. Having a safe space – to
question, to explore, to lament, to grieve, to mourn together - is what makes <a href="http://www.gildasclubnashville.org/">Gilda’s
Club</a> so special – so unique – so essential. And even as we
continue to care for so many important people in our lives, we must continue to
make time to care for ourselves.<br />
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So I invite you to consider your presence here - the grieving process - as a
spiritual practice; it is an important act of self-care; it is an expression of
gratitude & tribute; it is an important step toward meaning-making.<br />
<br />
May your presence here - to contemplate your darkness – help you see in new
ways. As we reflect on the light of the lives that have touched us deeply, as
you rekindle the light within you, as we honor the light in those around us –
may each of us find healing; may we together – heal our world.</span><span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-46232832642517778282013-05-03T12:20:00.002-07:002013-05-03T12:28:56.552-07:00Breaking Open<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7gfgtvURB9PeJGtVSqkV_aGdGkk0wZzxAZaDIRCj1nMUAKcVaf8JPxNinbyK-E5s9NFBaENL4Wwq4gDpGzyqtAV-mqGI2i59H1JebkuKQEuFgawhlyLL24YxOD00K0wqO-k1kukzCmk/s1600/DSCF2111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7gfgtvURB9PeJGtVSqkV_aGdGkk0wZzxAZaDIRCj1nMUAKcVaf8JPxNinbyK-E5s9NFBaENL4Wwq4gDpGzyqtAV-mqGI2i59H1JebkuKQEuFgawhlyLL24YxOD00K0wqO-k1kukzCmk/s1600/DSCF2111.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Each month I reflect on what life brings & allow that to lead
me to an appropriate blog entry. Usually the prompt comes from some
personal encounter or conversation. However, like most of you, over the
last few weeks I have watched the Boston bombing horror unfold. It is
remarkable how so many of us are touched - even from a distance - by such an
event. We find ourselves reflecting on how "I've walked right down
that street," or "I stood & watched someone at the finish line of
a marathon." Shocking & senseless tragedies like this remind us
of the fragility of life. As a parent I find myself with a deeper ability
to empathize as well as a heightened sense of worry & fear. We find
ourselves grieving for people that we have never met. This may seem strange
until we recognize that while we are indeed grieving for those families we are
also grieving for ourselves. Our culture is one that largely denies grief
and so many of our losses go un-grieved. We are encouraged to "be
strong," "move on," and consoled that "they are in a better
place." It is when we are profoundly affected by some seemingly
distant tragedy that we must recognize the inadequately & un-grieved losses
in our lives. We would be wise to heed these reminders to slow down, sit
with our grief, appreciate the everyday glimpses of beauty, and cultivate a
spirit of gratefulness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So now, just a few weeks later, the lights are already beginning
to fade. The country's attention is moving quickly to new stories of
tragedy & loss. This is when I imagine the long, arduous journey of
grief is really beginning for the families of those who died, for the scores
who are reconstructing their sense of self without a leg - or both. The
cameras are gone. The house is empty and quiet. The void becomes
unavoidable. And so, for the people of Boston, for all of us, for the
strength & resiliency of the human spirit I offer this reflection on grief
that I delivered last spring at a night of remembrance for a cancer
support agency.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">All That We Let In: Breaking Open with Grief<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The arrival of spring is usually welcome with its warmth, its
songs, its fragrances. And yet many of us here may find it bittersweet to
participate in the changes of spring without the physical presence of those who
have been so important to us. And so, as we gather to remember them – we
also gather to re-member ourselves. Perhaps more accurately we gather to
acknowledge the remembering & re-membering that we do every day. We
gather to name our losses, to share our suffering, to open – together – to the
overwhelming waves of grief that we so often try to hold at bay. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">You are indeed courageous for being here today. For we are
rarely encouraged to express our grief – much less embrace it. It tends
to make those around us uncomfortable, awkward, distant. And we, too, are
frightened at times that we will lose control, that we will be overcome, that
we will find ourselves in the words of poet Mary Oliver, unable to find
“foot-hold, finger-hold, mind-hold.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftnref1">[1]</a>”
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, there are appropriate times for holding our grief at
bay. There are errands to be run, work to be done, relationships that
must be tended. And also, we need a break – time for rest and
renewal. Yes, there is a time for every season – even a time for healthy
distraction – a welcome lifting of the weight that threatens to crush us.
Life still requires much of us – even the bereaved – and yet our grief requires
much of us, too. It needs attention, it needs intention. It needs
to be named, opened, explored. And so we gather today to create a safe,
sacred space to let the waves wash over us. We learn when swimming in the
ocean that we must lean into – even dive into – the waves so that we are not
knocked down & sent tumbling out of control. And so we must
periodically – in times like this – lean into – dive into our waves of grief.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As a chaplain I encounter suffering daily – physical, emotional,
spiritual pain, grief in so many forms. I hear the questions – the really
big questions. I used to think I was supposed to respond with answers, to
offer certainty and reassurance. Now, I know better – I imagine each of
you here, as you grieve and have supported others in their grief, has learned
that most answers offered by others ring hollow, that we can’t give another
person hope. And yet we can still do something of tremendous
meaning. We can sit with each other in silence, walk beside each other
along the journey, we can listen as others ask the questions, and we can “live
the questions<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftnref2">[2]</a>” together. In the words of
singer/songwriter Emily Saliers, “I don’t know where it all begins, I don’t
know where it all will end, but we’re better off for all that we let in.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftnref3">[3]</a>” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Better off for <i>all</i> that we let in you may
ask? We are often tempted or even taught to close ourselves off from the
bad stuff. And yet it is only by remaining open – yes, open even to the
grief of loss - that we then also remain open to healing. After all,
Kahlil Gibran reminds us that our joy and our sorrow are inextricably
intertwined. “When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you
shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftnref4">[4]</a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So, your experience of grief, your questions of loss, may be quite
distinct from others around you depending on what season you find yourself
in. Perhaps your grief looks like the <i>fall</i> with her
leaves scattered on the ground around you resembling a room in your home left
untouched/unchanged; memories still so colorful that it may not yet feel like
an ending. Or you might find yourself in <i>winter</i> – where
it’s barren, cold, all seems lifeless, you are closed off, zipped up, and
hunkered down. Maybe you would name your grief now as <i>spring</i> –
with glimpses of beauty returning but there remains a chill in the air, an
uncertainty lingering regarding whether or not the new buds will indeed bloom
or be victims of a returning frost. It might even look like <i>summer</i> –
there’s a new intensity to your days, activity and life are bustling again, and
yet there’s a dryness in the air, and those violent afternoon storms keep
interrupting your sunny days. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Whatever the season, may you continue to find the courage – like
you have by being here today – to be open to what your grief is saying,
offering, demanding of you. Kate Braestrup, a wilderness chaplain with
the Maine Park Service, offers this wish. “If your heart must break – may
it break open.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftnref5">[5]</a>” And so I offer these wishes for
you: Now that your heart is broken, may it break open rather than apart…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…a hand on your shoulder from a person too wise to speak<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the condolence card from a friend too scared to call<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the song that brings tears rushing back<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the music that washes you clean<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…doors that need closing<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…relationships that need mending<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…granting forgiveness<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…receiving grace<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…questions that have no answers<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…answers that you do not want to hear<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…feeling - something, anything to get beyond the numbness<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…change, small steps forward, to get beyond the stuck-ness<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the anguish in the face of a stranger<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the joy of a holiday season<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the fall leaves that signal endings<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Open to…the spring blossoms that declare new beginnings<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don’t have many answers but this, I believe with all my heart,
is true: We are indeed better off for all that we let in. May it be so.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br clear="all" />
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftn1"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[1]</span></a><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;"> <i>The Swamp</i>, A poem by <a href="http://maryoliver.beacon.org/"><span style="color: blue;">Mary Oliver </span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftn2"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[2]</span></a><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;"> <i>Letters to a Young Poet, </i>a book by <a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/295"><span style="color: blue;">Rainer
Maria Rilke</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftn3"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[3]</span></a><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;"> <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAfBLV7HMzk"><span style="color: blue;">All That We Let In</span></a></i>, A song by Emily Saliers
of The Indigo Girls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftn4"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[4]</span></a><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;"> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhcxyTHTA1w"><span style="color: blue;">On Joy & Sorrow</span></a>, A Poem by Kahlil Gibran<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6422566443079595707" name="_ftn5"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[5]</span></a><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif; font-size: 8pt;"> <i>Marriage & Other Acts of Charity</i>, A book by <a href="http://www.katebraestrup.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Kate Braestrup</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-55623343144421674922013-03-29T08:37:00.000-07:002013-03-29T08:43:50.841-07:00Hope Springs Eternal<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88QZeG2Nl40Ahwq96Za9cwXAmBYyyoBuO-V852trjR0mQ817wgTnQmf170jziF0jT0-qxNrFEWtWnn5A2Py2GxrbXP7WGxphlGANFGsrqZ-CGfTgcqyZXXSTim7cO5XXuYFpX3m6_6QY/s1600/sun_tree.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88QZeG2Nl40Ahwq96Za9cwXAmBYyyoBuO-V852trjR0mQ817wgTnQmf170jziF0jT0-qxNrFEWtWnn5A2Py2GxrbXP7WGxphlGANFGsrqZ-CGfTgcqyZXXSTim7cO5XXuYFpX3m6_6QY/s1600/sun_tree.bmp" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">It
is no wonder that Easter is the highest of high holidays for Christianity. It’s a remarkable story. And beyond the miraculous it is a very human
story of hope and healing. Christians
celebrate that God has come to be in solidarity with humanity & so the
story of Jesus’ birth, life, death, & resurrection is one that inspires many
to strive to reflect in some small, imperfect way the image of God in whom we
have all been created. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif"; font-size: large;">In
particular, Jesus’ journey from Palm Sunday to Easter includes so many familiar
aspects of the human experience – the praise & acclaim from riding high on
Palm Sunday to the lowest of lows soon thereafter – rejection, denial,
abandonment. There is betrayal &
forgiveness, uncertainty & reassurance, suffering & simple acts of kindness. There is grief & joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";">So,
it is with our journeys as well. Every
day, right now, not just in hospital rooms but also in our homes, our
communities, & throughout our world there is uncertainty & anxiety. Those
who were riding high that now find themselves in a valley of fear from a
shocking diagnosis, a sudden surprising turn of events; there are broken
bodies, broken lives all around us. Yes,
we must admit that we, too, are broken. </span><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text', serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif"; font-size: large;">And
yet there is hope all around us, too – hope for healing. Yes, miraculous hope for cancer to disappear,
for heart disease to be cured. But also,
if we have the eyes to see it, we learn that even when cure is not possible,
healing is always within grasp. And that
healing takes many forms – healing of fractured family relationships, healing
of spiritual distress & despair. And
this healing arrives in so many ways. A
prayer, the tender care of a nurse, a walk in the woods, a listening ear of a social worker, by
saying “thank you”, “I’m sorry,” & “I forgive you”, in the smile of a
stranger, a gentle touch, the simple presence of our loved ones around us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">And
so during this miraculous time of Easter let us rekindle our hope for healing
in all its forms, our vision of life abundant for all, the promise of new beginnings, and
the reassurance that hope springs eternal.
May it be so. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<i>Note: I wrote this reflection in April 2012 as part of an Easter sunrise service that I led at a local hospital where I served as chaplain.</i></div>
Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-7105404307064751342013-02-26T12:14:00.000-08:002013-02-26T12:14:13.347-08:00Standing in the Gap<br />
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">He had a
smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye as I entered the room and introduced
myself. Mr. Cook (not his real name, of
course) was preparing for surgery that he hoped would give him a new lease on
life so I encountered him in a reflective state of mind. He confessed that he was a former pastor who
had “given up a great church and left the ministry many years ago to tend to an
ailing parent.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">Through
the years he had continued to reflect on his pastoral experiences and now they
seemed to provide a sense of purpose for his upcoming surgery. “I’m not sure I’ve done much with my life
these last few years. It’s mostly been
about me. This may sound strange but
only after it all did I realize what a privilege it was to share the darkest
and most challenging times with people.
I guess I really didn’t do much.
I would just show up – and listen…and, you know, stand in the gap with
‘em. I think I’d like to do that again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Standing
in the gap</i> is a great way to describe much of what is done here at the
hospital. As clinical professionals you
stand in the gap between pain and comfort.
As behind-the-scenes support staff, you stand in the gap between
frustration and peace of mind. As a
chaplain I stand in the gap between busy treatment plans and a patient’s
longing to be seen and heard more fully.
Regardless of our job titles we find ourselves standing in the gaps
between isolation & community, shock & acceptance, and hopelessness
& meaning. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"> It takes real courage to enter these
uncomfortable in-between spaces with patients, their families, and our
colleagues but as we do, we come to realize that holistic healing requires more
than medical expertise – it requires compassion and generous listening. The simplest of gestures – just being there
and being you – can make a difference, maybe even be enough. I hope you find it reassuring to know that
while your expertise may be what helps mitigate pain, it is your presence, your
willingness to stand and serve in the gap that reduces suffering. Thank you for all that you do to make this a
place of healing no matter the prognosis or outcome. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">This brief
reflection was originally printed in the staff newsletter at the hospital where
I completed a 12-month chaplain residency.
Fortunately, my divinity school experience offered a complementary
balance of classroom education & field learning - thinking & doing -
which required me to use, & begin to integrate, my head & my heart. A core requirement in most divinity school/seminary
curriculum is called systematic or constructive theology. The title suggests a lofty aim. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Calvin" target="_blank">John Calvin</a> spent more than 1600 pages outlining his best articulation of “an orderly,
rational, & coherent account of Christian faith & belief.” And there have been many great minds
throughout the centuries from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustine_of_Hippo" target="_blank">Augustine</a> to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Aquinas" target="_blank">Aquinas</a> to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friedrich_Schleiermacher" target="_blank">Schleiermacher</a> who tried their hand at this formidable task. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">So, as you might guess I did not produce a theological magnum opus
during my four brief years of professional studies. And, in many ways my time at the bedside revealed,
for me, the futility of such an ambition.
I don’t wish to disparage the great theologians as I benefitted greatly
from reflecting on their methodical consideration of critical elements of
religious faith. Instead, what I find
myself mulling over now are a seemingly random hodge-podge of important
insights & poignant experiences that require further reflection. I’ll call them “fragments of light.” And <i>standing in the gap</i> is the first of
these I offer for your consideration. It
is my hope that as I ruminate on these “a-ha” moments, these glimpses of the
divine, these momentary connections to a “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Tillich" target="_blank">ground of all being</a>”, I may begin to assemble these pieces into something resembling a theological
mosaic. And I’ve learned that this messy
process qualifies as “doing theology.”
We can all claim the title of theologian when theology is rightly
understood as “<a href="http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=theology" target="_blank">God-talk</a>,” as a consideration of ultimate concern.
Simply put – God is love – and <i>standing in the gap</i> is an act of love. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "High Tower Text","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;">And
so I walked away from this encounter with Mr. Cook with the commitment to recognize
the gaps that present themselves and to stand in them with those I
encounter. We all have gaps in our
lives. We all have opportunities to
stand in the gap with others – yes, family & friends but also neighbors and
total strangers. Singer-songwriter Lori
McKenna, in her song “<a href="http://www.myspace.com/lorimckenna/music/songs/falter-album-version-33060540" target="_blank">Falter</a>,” implores us to stand in the gaps upon which we stumble. “Why don’t we open up? Knowing that we all falter. When will we learn, when will we learn, to
reach out for each other?”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: High Tower Text, serif; font-size: large;">Indeed, when will we learn that we are only good enough...<b style="font-style: italic;">together</b>?</span></div>
Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-8002351405773402202013-01-18T09:40:00.001-08:002013-01-18T13:02:47.427-08:00Capable of Creative Work<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">I’m back and promise – well hope – to keep the entries coming a bit more regularly from now on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, this blog is called “good enough” for a reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anywho, I launched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://goodenoughtogether.blogspot.com/2012/10/good-enough-together.html" target="_blank">Good Enough Together</a></i> in October with a very brief overview of my intentions and some highlights of my insights and aspirations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I’d like to explain further my purpose for this blog.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">In some ways it feels vain to implicitly suggest that you all – the public or at least my extended network of friends & acquaintances – might need to hear something that I have to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, I have an ego & I won’t deny the secret hope/delusion that this blog will become followed by millions leading to a publishing deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am confident that my desire to blog and my decision to post publicly is grounded in a deeper & ultimately more beneficial motivation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is about my desire to flourish - not in some competitive manner but in a way that honors what I have been given & those from whom I have received so much – my parents, my wife, my family, my friends, my mentors, my critics, my Creator.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">So, let’s start at the beginning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do I write?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I write because it serves me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Writing is a process of discernment and discovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><a href="http://www.henrinouwen.org/About_Henri/About_Henri.aspx" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Henri Nouwen</span></a><span style="font-size: large;"> describes the value of writing this way:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';">“Writing is a process in which we discover what lives in us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The writing reveals to us what is alive in us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The deepest satisfaction of writing is precisely that it opens up new spaces within us of which we were not aware before we started to write.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To write is to embark on a journey of which we do not know the final destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus writing requires a great act of trust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have to say to ourselves: ‘I do not yet know what I carry in my heart, but I trust that it will emerge as I write.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Writing is like giving away the few loaves and fishes one has, trusting that they will multiply in the giving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once we are to ‘give away’ on paper the few thoughts that come to us, we start discovering how much is hidden underneath these thoughts, and thus we gradually come in touch with our own riches.”</span></i><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yeah, what he said. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">And it is not just about me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also write because it offers the opportunity to say things that I might not normally have the time or courage to say in a face-to-face conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It offers a depth of exchange that so few of our interpersonal communications allow for amidst the hustle & bustle of life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">So, why post some of my most personal thoughts and fragile insights?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I share because I long to be more fully known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I share because I want to take a stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I share because occasionally it creates a unique opportunity for others to open up – or at least recognize that they are not alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sharing cultivates connection and intimacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, it’s risky but I have found it to be incalculably rewarding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My time as a chaplain brought this into focus for me in palpable & transformative ways. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I have to remind myself that my writing is “good enough.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For so long I have not written & shared because I was waiting until I could articulate perfectly or at least achieve that high standard of “publishability”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been protecting myself from criticism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have played it safe at the expense of my learning and growth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I am acknowledging that I am an amateur writer that will only improve by sharing my words and receiving feedback.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And whether speaking, writing or singing, this is my voice. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This voice will be so many things at once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be poignant & it is sure to be cheesy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be cowardly & courageous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be confident & it will be tentative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be liberating & oppressive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will be in-tune & out-of-key.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it is my voice – a voice no more or less important than any other voice – that I have learned needs to be part of this cacophony of sound that occasionally blends together to make music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I choose to sing not because I judge myself a great singer but because I have a song, as </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lT4pWJxKHhk" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Martin Sexton</span></a><span style="font-size: large;"> croons, “burning a hole in me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe each of us does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is a premise of my emerging theology of which I’ll share more in the months to come.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">So how has divinity school contributed to this journey – this process of discovery and growth?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It humbled me by helping me to more deeply recognize the unearned privileges of being white and male.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It introduced me to the stories of the minimized, ignored, neglected & oppressed – those voices that are often silenced or misrepresented by the “winners” who write history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It emboldened me through a newfound camaraderie with historic voices of courage & dissent – like <a href="http://orthodoxwiki.org/Arius#The_Arian_controversy" target="_blank">Arius</a>, <a href="http://www.ccel.org/ccel/teresa" target="_blank">Teresa of Avila</a>, <a href="http://www25.uua.org/uuhs/duub/articles/michaelservetus.html" target="_blank">Michael Servetus</a>, <a href="http://www.pbs.org/thisfarbyfaith/people/howard_thurman.html" target="_blank">Howard Thurman</a>, <a href="http://www.dbonhoeffer.org/Biography.html" target="_blank">Dietrich Bonheoffer</a>, <a href="http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1957/camus-bio.html" target="_blank">Albert Camus</a>, <a href="http://www.catholicworker.org/dorothyday/ddbiographytext.cfm?number=72" target="_blank">Dorothy Day</a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Johnson_(theologian)" target="_blank">Elizabeth Johnson</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It inspired me through relationships with colleagues who modeled a fierce and unwavering advocacy for social justice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cultivated skills of listening, reading generously, critical thinking & writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned the importance of consulting primary sources and the responsibility to be precise in my use of language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It provided time & opportunity for reflection that enabled me to “connect the dots” of my story, weaving my experiences into a narrative of meaning & thus hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thomas Merton articulates the necessity of action that is grounded in much more than good intentions:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">“He who attempts to act or do things for others or the world, without deepening his own self-understanding, freedom, integrity, and capacity to love will…communicate to them nothing but the contagion of his own obsessions, his aggressiveness…his doctrinaire prejudices and ideas.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">So, in future posts I will share what I wrote along the way as well as compose new collections of observations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will reflect on the brilliance & eloquence I encountered in the midst of reading more than 25,000 pages of theological texts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will share stories of profound encounters with suffering people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my sincere hope that this process will indeed deepen my self-understanding and capacity to love and thus minimize the spread of my contagions. My ultimate aim is again expressed eloquently by Henri Nouwen. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;"><em>"The greatest trap in life is not success, popularity, or power but self rejection. As soon as we feel at home in our own house, discover the dark corners as well as the light spots, the closed doors as well as the drafty rooms, our confusion will evaporate, our anxiety diminish, and we will be capable of creative work." </em></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for reading, for listening, for accompanying me into my "dark corners and drafty rooms."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you, in advance, for your compliments & critiques.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for not only indulging but also affirming me as I strive to continuously emerge into a more full, more integrated, more whole self - in relationship with others, in community with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you will respond in your voice, with your stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have much to learn from each other. We are capable of creative work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are indeed good enough together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'High Tower Text','serif';">[I also learned the importance of sighting sources so I need to give props to my professor and academic advisor, Dr. Bonnie Miller-McLemore, for the mantra of “good enough” culled from her book <u>Also a Mother: Work & Family as Theological Dilemma</u>.]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6422566443079595707.post-24858715442933071402012-10-18T07:26:00.000-07:002012-10-18T07:59:09.852-07:00Good Enough TogetherI am wrapping up a transformative chapter in my life. I recently completed divinity school and a twelve month residency as a hospital chaplain. I plan to use this space to reflect on my journey - what I've learned, how I've changed, and what this might mean for where I'm headed. Thanks in advance for indulging my ruminations. I welcome your feedback & stories. As a starting point & explanation for the name of this blog here is a somewhat concise summary of much of what I've learned over the last few years.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZiH1ribfuxa1YRMa1vwD5-_2cAdRd6nS6qVyA7Ssl5v85sXlxejXfCHEeFXfOwpmPl_sYRVusrNMi4uF_GzfP1VsRkZSkMFBZAEibk7dce_DPUsztd77lmWVNlP33zZItwQXYqvFvao/s1600/SydneyCathedral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZiH1ribfuxa1YRMa1vwD5-_2cAdRd6nS6qVyA7Ssl5v85sXlxejXfCHEeFXfOwpmPl_sYRVusrNMi4uF_GzfP1VsRkZSkMFBZAEibk7dce_DPUsztd77lmWVNlP33zZItwQXYqvFvao/s320/SydneyCathedral.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I am no longer striving to be perfect – just good enough - a good enough husband, father, friend & caregiver. Afterall, the pursuit of perfection only exhausts and depletes me. I will show up and trust that I am enough. I will be strong by revealing my vulnerabilities. I will be courageous by confessing my fears. I will take others seriously & remember to laugh at myself. I will rediscover the light by embracing the darkness. I will disappoint, fail & harm and so I will admit, apologize & reconcile. The circle will indeed be broken and so I will strive to be a repairer of the breach. I will serve & also allow myself to be served. I am beginning to embrace that I, too, am the beloved in whom God is well pleased. I will continue my journey home by another way walking humbly with God and all of creation. I will keep searching, keep learning, keep changing, keep growing, keep living life fully. And in the end I trust that I will see that it has been, it is, it will be – good enough together. May it be so. Jonathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04648016667970340053noreply@blogger.com0