Rhythms of Life

The beginning to this sabbath time has been about rhythm.The normal structures of our days and weeks have been removed and as a result we are trying to figure out what to do, how to do it, and when it should happen. This initial sense of being off-kilter shouldn’t come as a surprise to me, as the same was true when we were on sabbatical in Oxford. Knowing that we were able to find stability then gives me some hope now as we make camp, household, spend time time together and do our work. (the boys have independent study while I have my own study)

Part of my reading on vital practices for congregations has been ordered by our ongoing work as part of the College for Congregational Development. Five folks from All Souls took part in the first year of this two year program last year and three more will join us this year for the week in mid-June. Between the first and second years, each congregational team is asked to undertake a project in our home congregation––ours has been to study the patterns and understandings around giving at All Souls. Along with that project, the College assigns several books to read in order to prepare ourselves for the next year and the work that we are to do together. This list is as follows:

In the Grip: Understanding Type, Stress and in the Inferior Function by Naomi Quick
Seeking God: The Way of St. Benedict by Esther de Waal
one of two books on facilitation, I chose Great Meeting, Great Results by Dee Kelsey and Pam Plumb
The Character of Organizations by William Bridges
Organizational Development and Change by Cummings and Worley
one of three books on congregational systems by Peter Steinke, I chose Healthy Congregations: A Systems Approach
A People Called Episcopalians by John Westerhoff

Alongside these excellent books about best practices––whether practices for businesses, governmental agencies or university departments––the College has found it important to ground these practices in the ways that Christians have gathered for centuries. To do this, they have recommended a powerful book about the Rule of St. Benedict by Esther de Waal, an Anglican laywoman. What makes de Waal’s exploration of the millennia-old set of practices so compelling is that she isn’t a monk or a nun. She is living out this way of being in the midst of the chaos that life can bring. For her, the heart of the rule is the ways that we can live towards God, rather than what we cannot do. She writes, “…seeking God does not demand the unusual, the spectacular, the heroic. It asks of me…that I do the most ordinary, often dreary and humdrum things that face me each day, with a loving openness that will allow them to become my own immediate way to God.” (page 105)

In Benedictine spirituality, the daily tasks and chores, the householding, the details that occupy so much of our existence, can actually become entrances into a life of living with God. Benedict saw stability as essential in part because some ascetics in the early centuries of Christianity would leave communities as they grew weary of the ordinary, of the friction and the challenge of living in community with the people who annoy or frustrate us. It’s my experience that this has not changed. We leave jobs, schools, marriages, often looking for the next opportunity to be better than the one we are currently frustrated by. And yet, without real work, little substantial change comes from these transitions. We are still the same people, just in different surroundings. So what, then, are we to do when feeling besieged by the tide of demands that rise up around us? For Benedict and for de Waal the response is to actually enter more fully into the spaces and relationships where we are. It is remember that the grass is growing, here.

Again, though separated by thousands of years, the Rule developed by Benedict sounds a clarion call to us in the hyper-active 21st century. In her chapter on balance, de Waal reminds us that, “We are essentially rhythmic creatures, life needs this rhythm and balance if it is to be consistently good and not drain us from the precious possibility of being or becoming our whole selves. Unless we take this seriously we are going to reduce the amount of ourselves that is actually there and available to us. We will live with less and less of our whole selves.” (page 93)

For Benedict, alongside the core concepts of obedience, stability, and conversion of life came the foundational practices of work, study and prayer. For many of us, this focus on work is duly given, though often in ways largely removed from the manual labor that Benedict’s Rule supposed. But more often than not, it is wildly out of proportion to the other two practices that undergird the Benedictine life: study and prayer. Study, or learning to come closer to the an understanding of the world around us, can happen but we must make time for it. It is not seen as a necessity in our product-driven culture, and yet real, deep study serves as the fount of our creativity, our collaboration with God. And prayer...well, if we are not proactive, days can pass before we remember to create space in our selves and in our lives to give our attention to God. Again, while the Daily Office has been the rhythm for monastics and others for centuries, there can be other fruitful ways to come close to God. But we must create the space for them.

In Seeking God, Esther de Waal uses an evocative metaphor of what it is like when a Rule, when the Word of God finds space in us. She writes, “(we are to) establish a life that can be lived after the Gospel, and that for St. Benedict means, above anything else, a life that is earthed in Christ.” (emphasis mine) Perhaps it is because of the physical spaces that I write this in, but this understanding of “earthing” our beliefs rings truly for me. For if we do not earth them, or ground them in our regular living, then our beliefs become like all of the good intentions of our lives––wished for but not actually lived by. So one of the questions that de Waal’s Seeking God has made me consider is this:

    How do I incorporate (make into being), or earth, these three elements of work, study and prayer into my daily, weekly, and yearly life?

In the weeks and months to come, I am looking forward to having initial answers to this question, not just in ways that are in rhythm for this time of Sabbath, but in ways that will sustain as we re-enter the intensity of school and work come September. After our last sabbatical, in addition to the study around intentional Christian communities I also developed some practices around rest. What the Rule of St. Benedict is opening up for me now is a real desire to create practices around study and prayer that create the downbeats and pauses needed to be earthed in Christ that I may come closer and closer to my whole self. What might this "earthing" look like for you?

Peace,

Phil+

Space to Reflect

For as long as I’ve been a leader in Christian ministry (12 years ordained, another 8 years before that), I’ve been interested in what makes Christian communities strong, vital and transformational. What is it that makes some communities radiate a sense of being alive, while other communities, which could be only a few miles away, struggle and often give off the sense of decline?

No matter the community that I was a part of: youth ministry, young adult ministry, camp and conference, diocesan, small parish, medium parish, large parish, I’ve always been curious about what makes it go, and go well. My experience is that most of us have been in a Christian community and been able to have a sense that, to paraphrase Oakland native Gertrude Stein, “there’s a there there.”

This interest in congregational vitality grew exponentially when I arrived at All Souls in 2008. Though I had been a priest for five years, I hadn’t served as the primary leader of a congregation yet and immediately felt the steepness of that learning curve. I quickly reached out to some colleagues in the area, all priests in new calls who were part of interesting, vital parishes. We began a study group that used books on leadership, church dynamics, and change as lenses to the work we were engaged with in our congregations. It has been a phenomenal, grounding, and inspiring experience that I look to continue as long as I am in ministry.

After a few years at All Souls, when the growth of the parish began to significantly effect our structures and practices, I began to look for ways to not only develop my leadership but also the wider leadership in the congregation. It was this search that led us to the College of Congregational Development in the Diocese of Olympia in the Seattle area. The work that we began nearly a year ago has transformed the way that I lead and practice as a priest, both in depth and in breadth.

Along the way, I have been asked to share some of our experience with seminary classes at CDSP (the Episcopal seminary up the hill) and PSR (the inter-denominational seminary also up the hill). This process of reflection and teaching has also deepened my ongoing study and affirmed in me this sense that not only is “there a there there,” but that there are principles and practices that can be learned in order to create the space for life-giving Christian community to exist.

When I was called to be the Rector of All Souls, the Vestry offered what was at the time a unique way to spend sabbatical time. The standard approach has been to take six months in the seventh year of a call. All Souls, though, offered a practice more in line with the academic approach more common in this community: to take three or four months every three or four years. It is a practice now being adopted by more congregations in our diocese for a few reasons: parishes and priests often found that six months was too long, priests weren’t lasting until the seventh year to take sabbaticals, and this regular time for reflection for both the parish and the priest can be fruitful.

As you may remember, in the fall of 2011, Sarah, the boys and I travelled to Oxford, England on sabbatical. There I studied intentional Christian community using the Wesleys of the 18^th century and the Oxford Movement of the 19^th century as lenses. When I returned I felt able to preach and teach from a space of greater depth and wider perspective.

For this sabbath time, in keeping with the work I’ve begun in the Rector study group and the teaching I’ve offered at CDSP, I will be studying congregational vitality. Part of this time will be spent as part of our eight person team returning to the College for Congregational Development in Seattle. And a good deal more will be reading, reflecting and writing. So far the books that I’ve set aside for this time are about: congregational dynamics, broad-scale cultural changes and the church, corporate and personal spiritual practices, theology, and leadership. The challenge hasn’t been, “what books will I bring during this time,” instead it has been, “what will I leave behind?”

When I realized that the practices of congregational vitality are what I wanted to spend time studying, it became clear that I can read, reflect and write from nearly anywhere in the world. And so after conversation with Sarah and the boys, I will be spending this time on the road and in the wild, from Arizona to Montana and back.

I will be posting my reflections regularly (as regularly as cell phone signal and wifi allows), so that anyone at All Souls and in our wider community who is interested can follow along. You will be able to subscribe directly or follow the posts when they are linked in the Pathfinder.

In all, please know that I will be keeping All Souls in my thoughts and prayers daily. I feel incredibly fortunate to experience the trust and faith of this parish––it is a humbling privilege to serve All Souls. I am looking forward to what comes of this time for the parish as a whole and for me as a leader. And I really cannot wait to see what will be on the other side when I return after Labor Day to this vital and engaging Christian community.

Peace,

Phil+