Aj Schwanz

So, I last left you with the question of what it would be like for a faith community to sabbath for a year:

• What would that look like?
• What could be revealed during that time?
• Where could God take a group who was willing to lay it all out on the table, let God gets His mits all over everything, and wait to receive?
• Do we really believe that all we do as a church is God’s and for God? Or is it for us and of our own power?

During December I read the book of Isaiah. While everyone else seems to be immersed in Luke, I felt called to look at the “primary resources” behind our Advent readings and meditations. Each day I would read a chapter, trying to figure out what life in Israel and the world at that time really looked like, hoping that would give me insight into how Isaiah’s words might have impacted the Israelites in their day-to-day living. Over my bowl of Bob’s Red Mills high fiber hot cereal with almonds, flaxseed, cinnamon, and blueberries, I’d read and ponder and move on with my day.

Until one day: the day I hit Isaiah 58. The title of the section was “True Worship”. I thought, ‘How applicable to my situation where I’m on a task force discerning the next steps for worship in our community!’ And I ate my gruel and moved on with my day.

Until the next day. When I sat down, gruel in front of my, along with my happy light, and I opened up to Isaiah 59. Except that my eyes went back to Isaiah 58. I tried to move them back down the page: they did not want to budge. It was like that moment in Friends when Chandler proposes to Monica the first time, simply because they had had a fight and he didn’t know how to apologize or make up: everyone was in the room and groaned and turned away except for Rachel who sat at the kitchen table with her hands pressed against the side of her face staring and muttering, “Oh, oh, I can’t not look at it!”

I couldn’t not look at it.

Same thing happened the next day. And the next. And then one of those days happened to be a Sunday, and so I read it during most of church, wondering if I was meant to share it in service.

But no: I was meant to share it during that afternoon’s Next Steps meeting, when I sat silently stewing most of the meeting until finally someone asked if I had something to say (sigh: seriously - don’t they know better?) and the floodgates opened. I can’t remember all I babbled about - it was a bit of a roundabout (shocking, I know). But I do know that at some point I read Isaiah 58 to the group. Actually, I sobbed it out, having to pause because I couldn’t read through the tears (I remember shaking my head to try and get the tears out so I could move on because, dang it, Holy Spirit, couldn’t you move me in some other way so that I’m still functional and understandable? And not quite so soggy? :)).

Isaiah 58

Fasting that Pleases God

1 “Cry aloud, spare not;
Lift up your voice like a trumpet;
Tell My people their transgression,
And the house of Jacob their sins.
2 Yet they seek Me daily,
And delight to know My ways,
As a nation that did righteousness,
And did not forsake the ordinance of their God.
They ask of Me the ordinances of justice;
They take delight in approaching God.
3 ‘ Why have we fasted,’ they say, ‘and You have not seen?
Why have we afflicted our souls, and You take no notice?’

“ In fact, in the day of your fast you find pleasure,
And exploit all your laborers.
4 Indeed you fast for strife and debate,
And to strike with the fist of wickedness.
You will not fast as you do this day,
To make your voice heard on high.
5 Is it a fast that I have chosen,
A day for a man to afflict his soul?
Is it to bow down his head like a bulrush,
And to spread out sackcloth and ashes?
Would you call this a fast,
And an acceptable day to the LORD?
6 “ Is this not the fast that I have chosen:
To loose the bonds of wickedness,
To undo the heavy burdens,
To let the oppressed go free,
And that you break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
And that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out;
When you see the naked, that you cover him,
And not hide yourself from your own flesh?
8 Then your light shall break forth like the morning,
Your healing shall spring forth speedily,
And your righteousness shall go before you;
The glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
9 Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer;
You shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.’

“ If you take away the yoke from your midst,
The pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness,
10 If you extend your soul to the hungry
And satisfy the afflicted soul,
Then your light shall dawn in the darkness,
And your darkness shall be as the noonday.
11 The LORD will guide you continually,
And satisfy your soul in drought,
And strengthen your bones;
You shall be like a watered garden,
And like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.
12 Those from among you
Shall build the old waste places;
You shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
And you shall be called the Repairer of the Breach,
The Restorer of Streets to Dwell In.
13 “ If you turn away your foot from the Sabbath,
From doing your pleasure on My holy day,
And call the Sabbath a delight,
The holy day of the LORD honorable,
And shall honor Him, not doing your own ways,
Nor finding your own pleasure,
Nor speaking your own words,
14 Then you shall delight yourself in the LORD;
And I will cause you to ride on the high hills of the earth,
And feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father.
The mouth of the LORD has spoken.”

What I didn’t know until after I shared is that another church in our area has been praying this scripture over NFC for almost two years, specifically verse 12 (which stood out to me on my initial reading as well as another person in our group).

A member of the task force suggested we sit with this scripture as a group. We did. As we prepare for our upcoming fast, I wonder if others would be willing to think on Isaiah 58 as well, holding up Newberg Friends as well as your own faith gathering if it’s different. What stands out to you? What strikes you? What convinces you? What does true fasting mean to you?

So I’ve shared some about the process of the group.  At least, I feel as though I did:  does it make sense to you?  What are you fuzzy about?  What would be helpful to hear more about?

During this process I read a great book called Permission Granted To Do Church Differently in the 21st Century.  It’s written by Gary Goodell, a person I know not a lot about, and Graham Cooke, a person who has become key in my spiritual journey.  Graham Cooke, originally from Great Britain so he’s got a *great* accent, leads a prophetic ministry centered in Vacaville, CA.  Dad introduced me to Graham in the form of videos and audio cassettes which I listened to while going for morning walks around my neighborhood.  He is one of the kindest, to the point, challenging, loving teachers I’ve ever heard.  So when I heard about this book, I knew I’d need to read it.

Section 1:  The authors talk about the “Third Day” church God’s told them that we’re moving into (there’s lot of references in the Bible about moving into something new on the third day).  Development of people and churches; Church as a living system - organic and organizational paradox (the church is a field - flexible and changing (this is the response to our cultural context) - and a building - rigid and unchanging (these are our values) - how do we hold to both?).

Section 2:  Third-Day Worship; God-centric Worship; the Worship Feast

Section 3:  Third-Day Meetings; Embracing the Unpredictable; What’s Really Sacred?

Section 4:  Transition (Oh, my, how people would be helped if they read this - to actually understand what we’re going through.  It doesn’t make it easier necessarily, but it’s nice to understand what is actually going on).

Section 5:  Third-Day Preaching

Section 6:  Third-Day Mission.

Good stuff, eh?  One chapter really struck me:  Groups of Tens, Groups of Fifties, and Groups of Hundreds.  “It is not that we just need more than one meeting.  In fact, it doesn’t matter how many meetings you have in a week or a month.  What is important is to see the potential of different sizes of meetings that create different atmospheres or venues, and thus produce different outcomes or results” (109).  We have different sized meetings at NFC, but I don’t think we know why we do, nor do I think we always have placed the correct desired outcomes on those meetings.

The first group is groups of ten.  “These smaller groups are home-based, intergenerational meetings, where we share our lives on a regular basis, make our needs know to each other, and bear each other’s burdens.”  This seems to happen with small groups and Listening Life groups and some Sunday School classes.  “These groups are not cell groups, or even home groups; they are real churches - complete and autonomous churches.  They have leaders; the often receive offerings for missions, the poor, the needy.  They evangelize the lost, baptize converts, dedicate babies, marry the wed and bury the dead, and obviously celebrate the sacrament of communion.  These small groups are not just extensions of the ‘mother ship’ local community church that has a central campus around which all life swirls.  They are the Church” (111).  He then goes on to talk about the theological importance of having The Meal together.  “The local church does not do small groups; the local church is a small group where everyone participates” (117).

Groups of Fifties:  “This is the group where everyone worships” (117).  “These groups are not meant to replace the whole body, but rather make possible a type of meeting in which all ages, including children, can participate” (118).  There has been a concern voiced about what to do with the kids during our six-week fast:  people are concerned for their spiritual welfare if they aren’t in Sunday School.  I’m a bit concerned for their spiritual welfare if they don’t know how or get to have an opportunity to contribute to the larger body!  “This meeting is based upon the full priesthood of all believers with mutual edification and mutual up-building for the purpose of personal strengthening” (118).  And Goodall notes that this is not the entire body, but a gathering of several smaller churches or simple churches in a larger setting (even a home, a park, a backyard).

Groups of Hundreds:  “This is the group where everyone listens and learns.”  The point of these groups is for the larger body or network of churches to consider direction.  They are generally led by teams, not an individual, embodying fivefold ministry.

The other week my husband was getting poked by God to consider the point and purpose and elements of worship.  He was questioning the focus on the sermon:  is that very worshipful?   We do need to be taught, but perhaps we have been putting the wrong function on the different group sizes.  It’s like putting a wrong car part in a car engine:  I will probably be frustrated when it does work well, but can the part change to meet my expectations?   Not so much.  When we try to wed worship and teaching, the focus is divided.  When we aren’t being church in small group ways, we’re probably not prepared to worship:  we have to play catch up in worship to get to that worshipful place.  When we try to get our individual needs met in the large group, people will fall through the cracks:  people can’t be held accountable very well in groups of hundreds.

So, as we think about where we are stepping next and who we are stepping with, perhaps we need to make sure the “parts” are serving their intended function, otherwise we’re going to get stuck on the side of the road, and I don’t think Click and Clack will be able to gufaw our way out of this one.

My dad gave me my first personality test when I was sixteen:  it was one of those Myers-Briggs type indicator things.  I’m an INFJ - one letter off from perfection, according to my father (who is an INTJ).  My brother wanted to take the test, but Dad said he didn’t have a personality to test yet. 

In college I really got into looking at personality types.  Perhaps it was the selfish side of me, or perhaps I was so confused about what to do in life that if I could figure out my self, then I could figure out the rest.  One night, probably after working too late at a coffee shop and then coming home to a household consisting of twelve other embodiments of estrogen (far above what is healthy for any human being to endure), I came up with a theory:  religious denominations are not so much about theological agreements, but personality types.  Quakers - introverted/contemplative.  Nazarenes - service-oriented.  Baptists - extroverted/social group oriented.  Pentecostal - demonstrative.  Etc., etc., etc.  With that thought in mind, each denomination would have a lot of the same strengths *and* a lot of the same weaknesses:  the lack of personality diversity leads to one-sidedness, lacking the “shadow side”.  I know:  lots of problems with the theory, but there may be some truth to it.

I’ve been thinking about that more this week as I’ve been hearing feedback regarding the Next Steps recommendations.  Yes, any change is generally perceived as loss, but I’ve been amazed (not in a good way) at the amount of difficult feedback that’s been expressed.  Some people feel in the dark about the implementation of the recommendations; understandable - hopefully something will be shared from up front once the logistics are figured out.  Education needs to happen:  what does “fasting” mean, and what will happen during this time?  Why do we think it’s important?   What was the journey of folks coming to the Two Services recommendation?  Etc.  All legitimate questions.

These things have been brought to the business meeting:  they have not been kept confidential.  And folks on the Next Steps group have been more than willing to share with those who were interested (my poor husband and small group are probably now having to feign interest:  they got to hear updates whether they wanted to or not  :)).

But hearing questions at this point in the process like:

• Well, why was this committee appointed at all?
• Who appointed them?
• Where is this coming from?
• Why do we have to change?
• How long has this been going on?

with an overtone of suspicion is really surprising (and frustrating).

What I’m recognizing is a lack of trust in authority in our faith gathering.  And I wonder where that comes from.  I don’t sense that our hired pastors have done anything to deserve a lack of trust:  they lead in very open and transparent ways.  The elders have been fair and thoughtful and intentional as far as I’ve known.  So then I start to wonder:  do Quakers have a problem with authority in general?

My husband comes from the Nazarene tradition which is much more hierarchical than Quakers (well, almost *anyone* would be more hierarchical);  I don’t sense that such a recommendation would be an issue for them (but I could be totally off). It seems that if elders (i.e. people the church has trusted in having a sense of leading and leadership for the faith gathering) felt the need to appoint a committee, and the folks on that committee spent a lot of time and work and prayer and thought and conversation and passion and tears and self working hard to discern the next steps, and then that committee made their recommendation to the elders (who are supposed to be some of the wise folks of the church), and the elders approved that recommendation — it would seem that perhaps the recommendation should be considered to be a good thing and acted upon without having to prove it’s legitimacy and win over every.single.individual.

Yes, I know there are exceptions to the rule; yes, I know it’s wonderful that an individual’s voice is considered in the Quaker business meetings.  But good Lord:  how ever will we get anything done if we don’t trust?!!  What’s the point of having elders if we don’t believe they have our good in mind?  Why bother listening to the leaders for a Sunday morning message if they don’t have a sense of where we’re going in the first place?  Is that why Quakerism is dwindling down?  I hear that the message our denomination contains is refreshing and freeing and life-giving:  so why are our meetings dying?  Is it because we can’t submit - to one another, to leadership, to the Spirit, to God?

I told Jason I felt uneasy bringing this up because I know I have a problem with submission.  My parents didn’t call me “No Nap Gerick” for no reason.  :)  But perhaps my inability to lay down my preferences for others enables me to see it more clearly in other places in the world.  I’m telling myself that I don’t have to prove my experience or my belief in what I hear God calling us to to anyone:  if I feel manipulated to have to prove myself, I am choosing to feel manipulated (hurrah for CBT).

Initially I felt that Next Steps was about discerning where NFC is called to go.  Now I wonder if it was more about dealing with embedded sins and dysfunctional dynamics that must be named and repented of before we can even think of stepping into a new revelation that God has in store for our faith community — and denomination.  That’s not easy work.  But I’m excited to do it, and I hope and pray that others might engage on the journey as well.

Spirit:  unite and ignite us.

Today at Women’s Bible Fellowship we began a series with Pam Lau titled “Vital Unity with Christ in a Culture of Distraction.”  Right off the bat she asked what takes away our attention from Christ:  my answer - “managing consumption“.  Not a lot of response to that - started making me think that I’m too heady of a thinker - which got me a bit distracted - so maybe it’s a bit more.

Today on Oprah she asked a family to give up eating out, watching TV, buying items, using cell phones, and wasting energy (turning off lights, not having the thermostat set to 75+).  I know the topic of the show was about consumption, but I also wondered how much of it was about distraction:  not paying attention, numbing oneself from reality.  When the wife couldn’t fall asleep without watching TV, I wondered why:  I know I’ve done that in the past, but usually when I didn’t want to hear the voices in my head or didn’t know how to cope with painful void of silence.  I didn’t finish watching the show, seeing as how the act of watching it was distracting me from my life and engaging in a behavior she was asking the family to give up.

Dan Kimball wrote an excellent piece about the importance of theological thinking in today’s worship bodies.  What I noticed was the miscommunication that can occur within our culture of distraction:  either we don’t know what to communicate or aren’t in a posture to receive communication because we’re not fully focused on the issue at hand - we’re distracted.  Being theologically grounded refines that focus.  In my own denominational gatherings I’ve heard so much misinterpretation regarding consensus and the “priesthood of all believers”:  basically the idea that any individual can stop a business item from proceeding forward, whether they’ve sat with the item and prayed over it for a considerable amount of time or not or if they have a relationship with the Lord or not or their life is bearing fruit or not.  I wonder if we were more committed to creating space in our lives to focus on balancing the praxy with the doxy if things would sort themselves out instead of splitting off over and over and over.  [And I think attending a Quaker seminary, even if it's mostly nominal, is wearing off on Kimball:  did ya notice how many questions he asked?  Hello:  queries.  :D].

I meant to go to bed half an hour ago.  But I got . . . distracted.

A friend and I were chatting a while back about life:  folks’ business, people’s brokenness, the church’s  anemic faith and action.  The idea of corporate confession has been percolating in my mind for a while.  In my experience, if confession is discussed, it’s in regards to an individual aspect:  confess your private, individual sins; repent and turn your Self.  But the Hebrew culture didn’t seem to have this focus on the individual; they seemed to be more community-oriented.  If a person sinned, it didn’t just affect them:  the whole group could/would be smoted (I’m sure that’s a word).  So what would it look like to have a corporate confession?

Why would such a thing be necessary?  A while ago I was reading books by Leanne Payne, and she talked about confessing the sins of ancestors:  that the sins of our parents/grandparents/great-grandparents get passed down from generation to generation, and even though the younger generations didn’t directly participate in the sin, the effects are still present.  I thought that was CrazyTalk, until one day I realized I had derogatory thoughts in my head in regards to race.  My family is from the South, and I know I heard my grandparents make hurtful, racial remarks.  I was raised up North:  I wasn’t in that environment and shouldn’t have those thoughts!  And yet . . . Suddenly the idea of repenting made a lot more sense.

The Church has committed some horrid sins - intentionally or unintentionally.  And whether we were physically present or participating, that history is our history - my history.  It needs to stop:  I want to turn - I hope we want to turn.  But what would that look like?

Reading Leviticus (because I’m weird like that) has revealed just how much of a rhythm of life the Israelites followed.  The Israelites had a time of corporate confession, a season when they would realize just how unholy they were, how holy God was, and how wonderful it was that God provided a way that they could be in a redeeming relationship.  But they didn’t live always in this period of confessing.  This season was part of their rhythm of life:  it wasn’t just a sermon series thrown in randomly when the Levites felt like it, nor did they get stuck in repenting all the time.

A book I read for my class talked about how liturgy is a spiritual tool to fight the infestation of consumerism in the church:  instead of taking to meet my desires, I participate with others in times of feasting, repenting, and living in the ordinary life.

Some evangelical churches are more intentional or vocal about living in a rhythm of life.  Have you seen examples?  Do you have any book recommendations (or books you could loan) for further exploration (cause I have to read some good ones for class and I’d rather read something other people dug than find a flop on my own)?  Do you find yourself living into the season - individually or corporately?

Tomorrow my friend Gregg is speaking about communion.  To our faith community.  That happen to be Quaker.

. . . . .

For those of you who aren’t squirming uncomfortably in your seats, you probably don’t know that Quakers don’t “do” communion.  Why don’t they?  Well, to tell you the truth, a lot of folks probably don’t know.  “It’s just something that isn’t done.”  I recently heard a story about a woman who always cut off the end of a roast before putting it in the oven.  Her daughter asked her why she did that, and the mother said because her mother before her had always done it, but the mother never asked why.  So she did, to which she got the response, “Because my mother did!”  They asked the great-grandmother who said, “Because our pan was too small to fit a whole roast.”  The ladies had been engaging in a tradition that a) meant nothing to them because they didn’t know the reasoning behind it and 2) wasn’t necessary anymore - they had big enough pans now.

So, Quakes don’t “do” communion.  Some would say it is a reaction against resting too heavily on the belief that taking communion ensures salvation:  people abused the practice, so Friends’ reaction was to swing to the other side - abstinence (the best method of birth control, perhaps, but not necessarily the best spiritual-practice reaction).  Others would say it’s because it pales in comparison to the true reality of living in daily, moment-to-moment communion  with the Spirit (Elton Trueblood had some quote about that in one of his pamphlet-thingies I think).  And others?  “Well, we just don’t do communion” can be a very valid explanation to their way of thinking.  Anybody got a knife to cut off the end of this here roast?

I’m auditing a class at the Seminary and this week we were looking at consumerism and the church.  Oy, it makes my head hurt how much the commodification has happened in church culture.  It’s like thinking about the best environmental action/reaction:  either seems to do damage and there is no right answer!

One interesting observation brought up:  since the “Fordism” of America (when people starting working in a factory to create goods for others rather than engaging in the art of craftsmanship to meet their personal needs), people have become more and more dissected - segmented - taken apart.  Just as the work place was analyzed and changed into a manufacturing line, human beings have been analyzed and taken apart into having certain “needs” that must be met by products they can purchase.  Which we all know doesn’t work:  the fires of consumption only grow with each offering, and yet I know I keep piling it on.

As work and individuals have been taken apart, so have religious practices.  Instead of knowing why we do something, engaging in the practices and symbols and liturgy because of a wholistic lifestyle of worship, we take things apart:  a little Celtic labyrinth here, a little Taize chant there, throw in some Quaker silence and postmodern couches/coffee/candles, and call it good!  The practices we choose are to try and meet our needs - but that fire keeps burning brightly.

God speaks symbolically:  I learn so much through the Bible, through the way the world works, through interactions as a parent/friend/wife/person - it’s all through symbol.  To abstain from symbol is to cut off a powerful means of communicating with and worshiping God.

But I understand how the lack of physical symbols is a symbol in itself.  While it was seemingly so meaningful to first gen Quakes, I wonder if the power dissipates with each generation:  as we follow them, we see more of their shoes than where they were headed.

Could a regular practice of discernment bring about that renewal?  A posture of receiving from God the ways He desires to be worshiped, rather than picking and choosing until it “feels right” or “meaningful” to us?  That would take a lot of work and time:  is anyone willing to do that?

My dad’s worship gathering (a Quaker one at that) has bread and juice available for folks to take communion each Sunday.  It’s not the high liturgy of the mainline churches (and I’m sure they’d shutter to know how their symbol has been “dumbed down”), but people have encountered God as they took part of the act.

Instead of asking the question “Why do/don’t we engage in the bread/wine practice of communion at our worship gatherings?” would it not be more productive to ask “What does this act mean, Lord?  What does it mean that we’re so conflicted about it?” and ultimately “What are you calling us to do?”  This wrestling hopefully brings us deeper into communion with God.

I pray that tomorrow my community will wrestle well.

A friend recently commented on my use of “**”s. They’re for emphasis. And seeing as how I write as I talk, I must emphasize things a lot. But I like to use “**”s: they shake things up and take things to a different level. You know how folks use air quotes: do you like him, or do you “like” him? Sometimes that seems so flippant. My use of “**”s is the same idea: only more meaningful (and a better stretch for the fingers on the keyboard).

Yesterday I met with a group at church who are discerning direction for worship in our faith community: how are we called to worship, and are we following through with that? We ended up discussing something that doesn’t quite related to the topic at hand but gave me some good stuff to think about. Folks shared about hearing a sense of individuals not feeling connected to the larger body: they felt that fellowship times weren’t available or weren’t satisfying. As a group we began to name places where we did feel connected in our lives, places we felt community, we felt *church* (see: deeper, non-flippant meaning - ya know what I mean?).

For me *church* takes place on Thursday mornings with the women in Bible Fellowship. We chat, we eat, we learn, we pray and cry and rejoice and support. Sunday mornings are very distracting for me, but Thursday mornings I find myself able to center down almost instantaneously.

Folks shared about small groups and Sunday schools that they’ve felt *church*, spinning groups and mens breakfast groups and mentoring relationships where they’ve felt that deep connection that goes beyond the simple surface “we live in the same vicinity so we must hang out”. But rather, something more organic and deep and *church*.

So, what do you consider your *church*? Can you name it in your life? And why aren’t we spending more time finding out what God’s doing there rather than trying to bring God into places we don’t feel that connection? Or, what is God calling us to bring from those places of connectedness to places where we feel it lacking?

*?*

We hear a lot about evangelism today and how the church must pay attention to evangelism.  But mostly evangelism is not what we tell people, unless what we tell is totally consistent with who we are.  It is who we are that is going to make the difference.  It is who we are that is going to show the love that brought us all into being, that cares for us all, now, and forever.  If we do not have love in our hearts, our words of love will have little meaning.  If we do not truly enjoy our faith, nobody is going to catch the fire of enjoyment from us.  If our lives are not totally centered on Christ, we will not be Christ-bearers for others, no matter how pious our words.

~Madeleine L’Engle

So I didn’t make it through National Blog Posting Month: the flu kinda kicked my patootie. I could beat myself up as I’m inclined to do (stinkin’ perfectionistic tendencies), but instead I’ve decided to say, “Hey. I did half of November: yay me! And November will come around again: better luck next time.” Sometimes it’s hard to look at the big picture and recognize that there will be another chance, that things come around again.

Sometimes whether you want them to or not. Another cyclical element in my life has been depression. It’s come and gone since I was a teenager. I’ve dabbled in things here and there to waylay it: ignoring, medication, counseling, too much tv watching or eating or working out or cleaning or organizing, etc.

Last year I took a 10 week course on Overcoming Depression by Dr. Nedley (who I affectionately refer to as simply “Nedley”. If you saw him, you’d understand - a little on the stiff side) which focused basically on healthy living, but reinforcing that for us with a chemical predisposition towards depression, the recommended activities are a *must*.

I’ve also found some healing through Theophostic Ministry as well as prayer and healing and self-identity stuff at the Journey to Wholeness.

I’ve found comfort in listening to Graham Cooke talk about how God calls folks out into wilderness periods because He wants to reveal Himself to them - to ge them alone - that He does it out of love (note: when did Jesus go into the wilderness? Right after God proclaimed his approval of Christ’s intentions). Graham’s talked about learning to abide in the wilderness: to receive and respond, which is very different from our can-do American attitude.

It’s also been helpful to understand my personality type according to the Four Temperaments. One quarter of the population is a melancholy (like me). One quarter of the population is prone towards depression. Hmm: stats lining up? Our temperament feels things very deeply and goes through a much more extensive process of grieving those losses (which looks like depression to other folks, and may be, if we’re told to “get over it” instead of getting through it).

Lately I’ve heard a number of folks talk about feeling abnormally blue/down/tired/discouraged/anxious/irritable/in a fog. Which seems to fall under the umbrella of depression. I think it’s an epidemic in Oregon: people can tell me as much as they want that the weather doesn’t affect them, but until they visit a state where there’s sun and actually happy people, I beg to differ.

I’m wondering what to do with these noticings and the information I’ve collected. Record numbers of folks in the church are experiencing spiritual bleakness: how much more is beyond the church walls?

What would be helpful to folks who are going through this time?

Education? — How to live in the day to day (proper diet, exercise, etc.)?  Education on how to think properly (cognitive behavioral therapy)?

Prayer and healing? — Praying to reveal the lies we’re believing?

Practical? — Bringing meals to folks who are too tired/blue to take care of themselves?  Finding childcare?  Household help?

Discernment? — Perhaps God is allowing depression to enter our lives as a means to gather us together to discern something bigger God’s calling us to?

I don’t know if any of this rings true with you, if any of it sounds good or right, or if you’ve even thought about something like this.  I don’t know that I’m explaining myself very well (verbalization and sleep deprivation aren’t necessarily friends); if only Steve-O was here to interpret for me - he’s great at that.

Thoughts?  Comments?  Political statements?

Two of my favorite podcasts to listen to, of very different topics, have somewhat colaborated in bring up concerns.

Speaking of Faith is participating in American Public Media’s series Consumed:

We are what we buy — a glib adage to be sure, but it prompts an interesting question: Is our consumer society sustainable? American Public Media takes on that question in this special series. We follow consumerism from its origins to its dominance in the world’s economy and, arguably, its culture. And we examine how, and if, it might be adapted to reduce its destructive consequences while keeping store shelves stocked.

SoF’s contribution is “Money and Moral Balance“:

The sales are starting, the stores are open late, and many of us are gearing up to spend more money than we actually have in a holiday season with deep roots in religion. We explore the turmoil many of us experience with money in our day-to-day lives — and how we might work towards a moral and practical balance for ourselves and the next generation.

I have yet to listen, but am eager.

And The Splendid Table is hosting a survey on listener preferences on food and sustainability:

On The Splendid Table we often talk about organic, locally-grown and seasonal foods as important factors in taste and environmental sustainability. Now we want to know: how far are you willing to go to eat sustainably? Do you have access to locally-produced and organic foods? These are just a few of the questions we raise in the first national survey of it’s kind on food sustainability.

It’s not surprising that it’s happening this time of year when the glut seems to come out to play (or get shoved in our faces - thank you Christmas songs being played at the Dollar Store starting two weeks ago).   As I hear it from the Faith-y world and the Food-y world, I can’t not pay attention and wonder if holistic living is somewhat being laid out before me . . . .