From the Dean
Dear Friends in Christ,
I have been thinking about spiritual method for the past couple of years. This train of thought has been stimulated by those I know who have been helped immensely, indeed healed, through 12-Step programs. As you may or may not know, Alcoholics Anonymous was originally influenced by the Oxford Movement, an earlier Anglican attempt to create structures and pathways for spiritual growth. I am persuaded that a large part of the healing that people in recovery experience has to do with having twelve distinct and particular steps to follow: they find a meeting, find a sponsor, and, with their sponsor, begin to work the steps one at a time. There is a marked path, well traveled, and there are guides to help one walk that path. These guides, when they are worth their salt, know that the method works if the person seeking help is willing to work the method.
So what, I’ve been asking myself, is our method? What are the specific practices that advance us as individuals, congregations, and denominations? What do we need to do to go down more deeply into the mystery of God’s love and grow in faith, trust, and wisdom? My conclusion, hardly original and not sequentially bound, is this: Worship weekly; Pray daily; Learn constantly; Serve freely; Live generously.
Now, when I rehearse this list with people, I notice that most are generally with me until I get to the end, to the fifth and final practice. We all want to be nurtured and fed through worship, prayer, and learning. Many are moved to express their concern for others through active service. But when preachers start talking about giving as a spiritual practice, many in the congregation instinctively cover up and shut down - - for good reason. There has been more than a little homiletical manipulation by folks such as me in our history. And, in spite of this, I still believe that generous giving is a critical spiritual practice, central to our method, a practice that I am called to preach and teach. I do so unabashedly, without apology, as a “beggar for Christ”, and in this spirit:
A friend goes on a tour of Israel. He is overcome by the beauty of the Sea of Galilee. It is full of life: people fishing and swimming; the shore ringed by families and friends enjoying God’s sacred creation; restaurants, stores, and cafes open for business. The tour then moves south and arrives at the Dead Sea: sterile, empty, devoid of community, hostile to life. The difference? The Jordan River flows into the Sea of Galilee in the north and flows out again in the south. That same river flows into the Dead Sea from the north but never exits: there is nowhere for the water to go. It simply pools up and evaporates.
Our friend decides that this geographical oddity will serve as an important metaphor for life, both his and ours. We are fully alive, he comes to understand, when we receive and give in a balanced manner. Conversely, we die when we don’t, when we simply receive and forsake generosity. Receiving and giving, obtaining and releasing, letting in and letting go are all essential practices for our spiritual survival and growth.
One of my primary beliefs, a core commitment, concerns the abundance of God’s creation. I believe that there is more than enough for everybody: enough space, enough time, enough food and clothing and shelter and attention and affection and love. I believe that God has provided for every creature under heaven and that we are simply charged to live in and share the creation in a way that is wise, compassionate, equitable, and humane. Furthermore, I believe that God has done God’s part, God has provided us with all that we need to prosper as a local and global community, and it is now up to us to do our part; to nurture, steward, and share the rich abundance that is our common spiritual birthright.
Let me close with a memorable and prophetic image, a cartoon I once saw that impacted me deeply and that drives home the point that I am hoping to make today. Two people are talking and one of them says, “When I get to heaven, I have half a mind to ask God why he allows so much suffering in the world – so much poverty, so much hunger, so much injustice.” The other says, “You said you have half a mind to ask that of God, what’s holding you back?” The first person replies, “I’m just afraid that God is going to ask the same question of me.”
The Very Rev. Scott Richardson is away for the month of July; however, he gave permission for this reflection to be reprinted in this special, summer issue of the eClarion. Ed.
