New Thoughts on Sabbath

I'm listening to a fascinating interview by Terry Gross about Sabbath on NPR. I also read something about this author (Judith Shulevitz) in this past week's NY Times Sunday Book Review. (Random trivia: during the weekend my brother told me that Shulevitz used to live 3 doors down from he and his family. I've even referenced Shulevitz in an article I once wrote about Sabbath several years ago. What a strangely small world we live in.)

There are some things she says that I don't connect with -- this woman, Judith Shulevitz, is not very strict in her spiritual practice (in this case, Judaism) in many ways. She says she doesn't pray, and she's not very consistent in going to temple. She even acknowledges that while she practices Sabbath, she's also ambivalent about it. And her husband isn't observant.

Regardless, she finds herself irresistibly drawn to the idea, reasons, and many of the habits of Sabbath. She found herself wanting more out of life. So it's a quizzical interview in some ways, but lovely in many others. Perhaps I also enjoy hearing two people spend time talking about the appeal of knowing God, without fully knowing him. It's so enlightening and fresh... Good reminders to people who maybe spend the majority (or all?) of their time with others with whom they share the same beliefs.

I've always understood Sabbath to simply mean "stop" -- a time to remember that we are human beings, not human doings. More importantly, it is to be a time to practice what we are going to do forever: to enjoy the presence and worship of the Lord unhindered.

I don't want to give too much away, but two things that Ms. Shulevitz said really struck me, and enlarged my understanding -- and hopefully, my practice. Her latest book is a result of extensive research into the history of Jewish Sabbatical practice. She says that Sabbath is intended to be a collective rest. Not only a time set aside for spiritual devotion, but a time where that worship is to be shared. People are to enjoy restful meals and conversation and leisure together. I did not know this. I've usually used Sabbath to get time alone, to reflect, to turn off -- and use that time to read and be quiet, often outside. But she says that Sabbath is not intended to be a time of "personal liberty and unfettered leisure." Hmm.

Furthermore, she says that the goal of Sabbath is that "you as a human should not be exerting mastery over the world." That is why the Jews have so many prescriptions to not do any work. She points out that during the other six days of the week, we exert great effort to conquer the world and have dominion over it. We seek to harness resources, to make our own mark, to maximize our efforts. But one day a week, Shulevitz states, "let the world be as it is, and you be in it." Wow.

These both feel much bigger than what I have understood Sabbath to be. Like Shulevitz (though for entirely different reasons), I am ambivalent about them. In a small, almost two year old sort of way, I want to stomp my foot and just say that I like my Sabbath keeping the way it is. They are life-giving for me, and I look forward to them every week. So her challenges sort of bug me. But I cannot deny that there is a remote, faraway appeal that I can't ignore. I've been so focused on getting Sabbath to be "less of me and more of Thee" that I have neglected the larger community focus (both personal and global) that her statements point to.

See what you think. It's about 40 minutes. Well worth the time.

March 31, 2010 Fresh Air with Terry Gross

United Nations

I went on a tour of the United Nations today. And honestly, it was pretty darn spectacular. Their were no amazing displays, and the main room, the General Assembly, was closed for roof repairs. (I guess the big January snows did a number on the roof). But I saw two things there that reminded me of Right Things in the World.

Check out The Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Thirty profoundly stirring statements.

I also was moved by the Millenium Goals, 8 tremendously important things they are working to have accomplished by 2015. Eeesh -- only five years to go, and when you read the list, you'll see we have a L-O-N-G way to go.

Both of these documents fall under the title of "social justice," which has gotten a bad rap of late, thanks to dear old Glenn Beck. He seems to have a rather convoluted notion that to be for social justice as a Christian means that you think the government needs to giving everyone a handout. I think something much different; I think that the government is surprisingly inefficient and wasteful machine, though I will say in the same breath that I am very thankful to live in the US with the governmental systems that we have.

I just don't put much hope in the government accomplishing societal change on a grand scale. I want the government to support those changes, but I also know that governmental bodies of all stripes get stymied by dissent and political shenanigans and boondoggles and pork and all that yada yada. I believe in something far more constant than government -- the church.

I only wish the church would take our job seriously. We are called to give water to the thirsty, food to the poor, to speak up for those who cannot speak up for themselves, to bind up the wounds of the broken-hearted, to set the prisoner free. Look it up -- all those things are in the Bible. So when I saw these great documents at the UN today, I rejoiced in the truth they contained. And I was reminded that none of them will be remotely possible without the aid and power of the God of Justice. How I pray that God's people will get serious about being God's hand and feet in the world, and live out our calling. I see it happening in fits and starts -- church groups pouring into Haiti, Christians leading the way in fighting HIV/AIDS in Africa, Christian aid groups maintaining presence in the extremely poor regions of the world. We must sustain such life-giving service around the world, leading the way in justice and compassion.

In other words, may they know we are Christians by our love.

Staying Put

I want to share an interesting article with you about a friend of mine, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. Perhaps Jonathan's greatest accomplishment is that he had the wisdom to marry a former student (and current friend!) of mine, Leah Wilson... I have appreciated Jonathan's writing. He is remarkably prolific for someone is not even 30 years old... maybe that makes me a little jealous too! Author on a Mission Finds Joy in Staying Put.

This particular article clicks with me because I moved around frequently in my growing up years: landed in 3 different kindergartens in one year, moved after 1st grade and 5th grades too. Rough waters for a shy kid (yes, believe it or not) who was a bit too much inside her head and not terribly gifted socially. Let's put it this way: I read encyclopedias for fun. By the time I graduated from high school, I had not lived anywhere more than 6 years.

I vowed that when I grew up I would stay in place. I would not move. So since arriving in Santa Barbara for college in 1979, I have remained. (Admittedly, not a difficult call on some levels. It's a lovely place to live.) But as Jonathan says in the interview, "Stability... is a commitment to face into [a] problem and grow." After stepping away from a wonderful church community and ministry last year because I just knew it was time to do so, I had to work hard to fight the urge to move and "flee" the discomfort of such deep change. But staying put has forced me to face many things, to dig in deeper to some key relationships, and be stretched in new ways. I am grateful. For me, the beauty of being in one place has given me roots that have sunk down deep. I love running into folks I knew 25 years ago, and seeing what has happened in all those years since. I am blessed by marking time in landmarks and memories and history with others.

In terms of a career of working with students, I have had to say goodbye so often. As I have said during graduation ceremonies, "My job is to watch people leave -- this is not easy." I have told them that each one of them gets a room in my heart, and when they move, I do not turn over the bedroom to someone else or redecorate. Instead, I leave the room empty, with the bed made and the light on. I am ready any time they want to visit. This has been one of the joys of staying put.

More could be said. But all for now.

P.S. I'd also highly recommend one of Jonathan's books from last year, co-written with his college pal Shane Claiborne, Becoming the Answer to Our Prayers: Prayer for Ordinary Radicals. I assigned it for Westmont Mayterm class on Summer Internships, and the students really enjoyed it. We also had a great time interviewing Jonathan via Skype during one of the class meetings. He is thinking outside the box in many ways, and I learn from him. I especially like his work related to "new monasticism."

Happy Camper

My tummy is feeling fine. Great dinner tonight -- Thank you Martha. Stewart, that is.

Before I share it though, I must share a funny story. Because for some reason, funny things happen to me on a regular basis.

I went to Eller's Donuts today to order some donuts for my church's Easter sunrise service. Full disclosure -- they know me at Eller's. I have picked up donuts there for years. Mostly for youth group activities, but there has been a few "I-need-a-donut" moments in my lifetime....

But I digress. The owners are tremendously warm, generous people. They have always gone above and beyond the call of duty. I am so impressed with their hard work and willingness to do anything to provide quality service.

They also have a limited grasp of English. I believe they are originally from Thailand. They have a great menu on the wall, one half that lists all the donuts they sell, the other half with all of the Thai dishes they offer at lunch time. It's a funny combo to look at.

I have had more than one comical conversation with these folks. I have a longer story that I won't share here about a previous encounter with them when placing a large order for Easter. ANYWAY, today I show up to place the order and there is a young woman at the counter whom I have not seen before. She starts dutifully taking my order, and halfway through, the owner who knows me comes out.

She has a big grin on her face and says, "Hah-low, Hah-low, How ah yoo?" We smile and exchange greetings.

Then she says, "Hey... You no fat no more!" and puts her hands to her throat, apparently showing that I've lost my double chin. I just DIE laughing. I mumble something about not quite being "no fat no more," and then she tells me, all 4'8" and 90 pounds of her, that SHE is fat, grasping at the skin on her arms to show how "fat" she is. It gets funnier and funnier.

We finish my order, and she shoves a bag with donuts holes into my hand. I leave, and I choose to eat 2 of those darn donut holes. Because I no fat no more :) Even though my body can't handle gluten anymore. Funny morning.

Here's the great dinner recipe. You will love it!

SWISS CHARD, MUSHROOM AND QUINOA SALAD (picture the quinoa in the photo on a bed of sauteed chard -- deeeelish!)

1 cup quinoa, rinsed

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

1 pound Swiss chard, stems and leaves cut into 1/2 inch pieces, rinsed well (about 10- 1/2 cups)

Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper

Pinch of red pepper flakes

1 garlic clove, minced

12 ounces mushrooms, sliced

1/8 inch thick

2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried

1/2 ounce Parmesan cheese

1. Cook quinoa according to package. Meanwhile, heat 1 teaspoon oil in a nonstick skillet over medium heat. Cook swiss chard, stirring occasionally, until wilted and tender, about eight minutes.

2. Sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon salt and season with pepper. Add red pepper flakes and toss. Transfer to a platter.

3. Add remaining 2 teaspoons oil and the garlic to skillet. Cook over medium heat, stirring until garlic is slightly golden, about one minute. Add mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally, until they start to release juices, about three minutes. Sprinkle with 3/4 teaspoons salt and season with pepper. Cook until mushrooms are tender, about five minutes. Stir in quinoa and heat through, about one minute. Add thyme. Serve mixture over swiss chard. Top with Parmesan.

Servings: 4

All Songs Considered, SXSW, free music, etc!

Attention music fans: Just a quick post... In case you haven't noticed or heard that there is some great stuff out there on NPR's music website:

• Free NPR music at South by Southwest (SXSW) Sampler
• "First Listen" of the entire She&Him album "Volume Two" (limited run - album comes out March 23)
• Live Concerts and interviews from SXSW

This is just scraping the surface of the musical goodness on this website, but I'm assuming you can find your way from there. Ciao.

Stillness & Motion

I feel like I heard from God this morning in a couple of nice ways...

First from Henri Nouwen quote of the day:

A Still Place in the Market

"Be still and acknowledge that I am God" (Psalm 46:10). These are words to take with us in our busy lives. We may think about stillness in contrast to our noisy world. But perhaps we can go further and keep an inner stillness even while we carry on business, teach, work in construction, make music, or organise meetings.

It is important to keep a still place in the "marketplace." This still place is where God can dwell and speak to us. It also is the place from where we can speak in a healing way to all the people we meet in our busy days. Without that still space we start spinning. We become driven people, running all over the place without much direction. But with that stillness God can be our gentle guide in everything we think, say, or do.

Then I read this in a devotional:

Spirituality is clearly rooted in living ordinary life with extraordinary awareness and commitment... it is so easy to go through life looking feverishly for special ways to find God when God is most of all to be found in doing common things with uncommon conscientiousness.

Today is my weekly Sabbath day. I got in the habit of taking Saturdays for this (rather than Sundays) years ago when I started working for a church. Today I woke up slowly, read and prayed a bit, then went into the garden and picked some green onion and swiss chard. I sauteed them in some olive oil, fried up some eggs with them and had a very nice breakfast (with a requisite cup of coffee, of course). My day will be simple -- some exercise, a little reading, some doodling around the house that helps bring some order to my personal life. I will heed the words from Nouwen and from Benedict, to revel in the ordinary with acute awareness. I thought about dear old Jack the cat and got a little wistful -- I missed his tail talk in the morning as I made my breakfast. But I enjoyed the birds as I hung laundry and noticed a large black lizard in the woodpile next to the patio. The warmth of the sun felt good on my face.

As I gather myself this Sabbath day and get my wits about me after a full week, I then want to take that stillness that can only come from the Spirit of God into another week of motion. Let's help each other do this.

Goodbye Old Man

Today was a very blue day for me. I had to put down my cat of twelve years, Jack (AKA "Jacko" and "Grandpa"). After at least a year of decline, where I paid more in vet bills than I care to admit, I had to come to the realization that it was time. After he was gone, the vet was able to really probe and confirmed he had a mass in his stomach that was untreatable.

The funny thing is that while I enjoyed this cat, I wouldn't say I was dramatically attached. He was just great to have around. Since I worked at home, he was around A LOT (notice the photo). When it came time to say goodbye, I was really sad. Lots of crying. My friend Steph consoled me later with this: "the time spent together represents a clear slice of life and the attachment defies reason sometimes." So I'm just letting go and not needing to make sense of it all as I get weepy over a darn cat. I feel like Jack Nicholson in "As Good as It Gets" when he sobs over Greg Kinnear's dog Verdell.

Then I remember that whenever I've put a cat down, I not only mourn the cat, but I think I also mourn what he represents. (Right now I'm remembering our cats Simon and Garfunkel from my childhood). I got Jack in '98, when I realized I would never have kids and I just wanted something else to think about. No no -- he wasn't my child. Please. Like I said, he was just good company and a distraction. And today I think I realized that saying goodbye to him also caused me to reflect back on the often turbulent times of these last 12 years, and far too many seasons of loss and grief.

So I allowed myself to shed many tears today and also smile at some fond memories -- he always sat in the laps of one of my students when they came to visit; he slept on my shoulder when I took a nap; he was very social with everyone who came by the house to visit; he loved shoes; he was never a snooty, aloof cat. He loved people and always wanted to be where the action was. Thanks Old Friend.