An Altar in the World, Chapter 4: The Practice of Walking on the Earth
Reflections and Discussion
Groundedness
MaryAnn McKibben Dana
Focus Scripture: Luke 24:13-35
I. Reflection
I write this reflection during the Great Blizzard of 2010. With three small children, the last few days have been all about logistics—finding lost mittens, making sure there is enough milk in the fridge, clearing a path from door to driveway. This afternoon, while walking back down the street after dropping off the girls to play with a neighbor, I finally took a moment to look around, to feel the slippery crunchiness under my feet, to smell the air. It really is gorgeous, I thought, and said a prayer of praise to a God who could somehow create a scene of pure breathtaking beauty, yet with the raw power to bring to a halt one of the most prominent cities in this country. In walking, I drew closer to God.
This chapter in BBT’s book reminded me of the story of the two men walking to Emmaus. We don’t know why those two men were walking that road; our only clue is that they walked on the day of Jesus’ resurrection. It may be the only clue we need. The shock and confusion must have been so overwhelming that the four walls of the upper room could not contain it all anymore. The two disciples had to get up, to move, to pray with their feet. So they headed out, just to get some distance and perspective. And as they walked, they talked about what they’d experienced and what it all meant.
There are many kinds of walks, many kinds of pilgrimages. In fact, the very act of living is a pilgrimage. Most of us do not spend our lives sitting on a prayer mat, contemplating the mysteries of the universe. We engage the questions of faith in the midst of living. As Barbara Brown Taylor put it in a lecture while writing this book, “So often we think we’ve got to get our ideas about Jesus and Christianity straight before we can respond in faith, when it’s entirely possible it’s meant to work the other way around.” By practicing in the way of Jesus, by journeying in the way of Jesus, we come to a greater understanding of what we believe about him. We do this by serving others and living alongside them but also by literally walking on the earth.
Countless individuals have re-discovered the labyrinth, an ancient tool of prayer and walking meditation. A labyrinth is a path laid out in canvas, stone, sand, or other material. People are invited to walk the labyrinth in a spirit of quiet and prayer. Some bring a question with them on the labyrinth, turning over and over its many possibilities—not unlike the two men did on the road to Emmaus. BBT invites us to walk with the same open inquisitiveness.
II. Application
Quotes from the chapter that warrant further thought:
Most of us spend so much time thinking about where we have been or where we are supposed to be going that we have a hard time recognizing where we actually are. When someone asks us where we want to be in our lives the last thing that occurs to us is to look down at our feet and say, “Here, I guess, since this is where I am.” p. 56
The beauty of physical practices like this one is that you do not have to know what you are doing in order to begin. You just begin, and the doing teaches you what you need to know. p. 58
My treadmill is no respecter of persons. It delivers reliable results to anyone who uses it on a regular basis. It makes promises it can keep, at least to those who us it the way they are supposed to. Spiritual practices are not like this. p. 59
…Christian tradition clings to the reality of resurrection, even when no one can explain it to anyone else’s satisfaction. The immortality of the soul is much easier to conceive than the resurrection of the body. What? You mean a stopped heart suddenly starts again? You mean a dead body gets up with a growling stomach? No, I mean God loves bodies. …The resurrection of the dead is the radical insistence that matter matters to God. p. 62
Jesus was the destination. Whether he was going somewhere or nowhere at all, going with him was the point. …While many of his present-day admirers pay close attention to what he said and did, they pay less attention to the pace at which he did it. …He took his sweet time. p. 66
III. Questions for Discussion
Have you ever taken part in the act of walking as a spiritual discipline? BBT discusses some of the more ascetic practices of walking and cautions against “mortification of the flesh” (p. 64). How do we help our spiritual practices be life-giving rather than punishing?
How do you respond to BBT’s ideas about the resurrection as an affirmation that “God loves bodies”? How has our Reformed heritage traditionally viewed the body? How does that heritage match or contradict your own beliefs?
If practical in the context of your meeting, engage in this practice of walking, individually or together as a group. Go barefoot, if you can. Even a walk around the church building or the home where you are meeting might have something to offer. See what you notice and report back at the end of your walk.
How do you understand Jesus’ pace of living with our modern need for efficiency? Is there a way to reconcile these two perspectives? Is it desirable to do so?
IV. Closing
sing “O for a Closer Walk with God”
An Altar in the World, Chapter 5: The Practice of Getting Lost
Reflections and Discussion
Wilderness
Leslie A. Klingensmith
Focus Scripture: Exodus 16:1-8
I. Reflection:
When I was an Associate Pastor working in youth ministry, I was notorious among kids in the 6th through 12th grades for my poor sense of direction. Almost invariably, when we were driving to a mission site, a youth conference, or a retreat, I would lose my way and eventually have to stop. Amid much hilarity, I would either get out a map or pull into a convenience store to ask directions. I was so often frustrated by getting lost that I took to driving to places where I would be taking the youth before the youth event occurred, to save time and headaches when I was driving a vanload of hormone charged adolescents. When I left that church that I had served for nine years, the youth group made up a song to commemorate our years together. The opening line of the song was “We hope you learn to drive now that you’re a pastor...”
These several year later, I have come a long way in learning to compensate for the sad truth that I cannot tell east from west, or north from south. I frequently use a Global Positioning System (GPS), and I have become adept at Mapquest. Both of these resources have saved me many moments of angst over being late and disgust at myself. I still am often late getting to places, but not as late as I used to be. In spite of the technological tools at my disposal, I think the biggest change that has happened is that I have learned not to panic when I lose my way. At some point, I realized that getting all bent out of shape only made me even less attentive to the landmarks around me - I would be going in circles or missing perfectly obvious signs that could show me the way to my destination. Now, I am quicker to ask for help when I sense that I have missed a key turn, or that my surroundings do not look remotely like the destination that has been described for me. I also am more open to learning a new way to get somewhere that may emerge from having drifted away from the proscribed route. I have learned to practice getting lost, and I got better at it! Paradoxically, I feel “lost” much less often now.
I also have experienced a few wilderness times that were more serious than losing the way to a retreat center. I struggled with my vocation in my early 20s. I had a bout with depression in my late 20s that, although I was never hospitalized or suicidal, I required medical assistance to move past. I would never have chosen either of those experiences, or the more private sorrows that temporarily led me into the wilderness. I have come to understand, though, that God’s presence is often most evident when we are at our most vulnerable point. As life goes on, I am learning to trust God to see me through the times when I am lost. I have come to recognize that, by the infinite grace and mercy of God, even before I am lost, I am found.
II. Application
Quotes from the chapter that warrant further thought:
“Because once you leave the cow path, the unpredictable territory is full of life. True, you cannot always see where you are putting your feet. This means you can no longer afford to stay unconscious (p. 70).”
“If you do not start choosing to get lost in some fairly low-risk ways, then how will you ever manage when one of life’s big winds knocks you clean off your course (p. 72).”
“Those who follow Jesus are meant to follow him into the wilderness, where they too may be tested (p. 77).”
“To receive the hospitality of strangers changed me far more than providing it ever did (p. 79).”
“The advanced practice of getting lost consists of consenting to be lost, since you have no other choice. The consenting itself becomes your choice, as you explore the possibility that life is for you and not against you, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary (p. 80).”
“Anything can become a spiritual practice once you are willing to approach it that way-once you let it bring you to your knees and show you what is real, including who you really are, who other people are, and how near God can be when you have lost your way (p. 83).”
III). Questions for Discussion
When were some times that you felt lost?
What are some places nearby that would be considered “out of our comfort zone?” How often do we venture into those places?
Can you recall a time when you had to rely on the hospitality and care of strangers? What was that experience like?
Is “consenting” to being lost something like surrendering? What changes in our lives or outlook show us that we have surrendered?
How is being lost a spiritual practice?
IV) Group sing together the hymn “Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah” (#281, Presbyterian Hymnal)
An Altar in the World, Chapter 6: The Practice of Encountering Others
Reflections and Discussion
Community
Leslie A. Klingensmith
Focus Scripture: Luke 10:25 - 37
I) Reflection
Shortly after the tragedy of 9/11, with the permission of the Session of the congregation I was serving at the time, I wrote a letter on their behalf to the leadership and congregation of Dar-Al Hijrah, the nearest local mosque. It was a letter of condolence about 9/11, as we recognized that most of our Muslim neighbors were as shocked and horrified by what had happened as we were. We also expressed concern about the vitriol that had sprung up in our community (and across the country) against Muslims, the hate speech and the widespread assumption that all Muslims are lunatic terrorists. We pledged to stand with our neighbors, and asked if there was anything we could do to show our solidarity with them.
The mosque responded positively to our contact. They initially invited our whole congregation to an open house, where we were warmly welcomed and treated to a delicious Middle Eastern feast. The imam hosted a question and answer period about Islam, and he emphasized the common Abrahamic roots that Christians, Jews, and Muslims share. A few weeks later, during Ramadan) several of our congregation members (and I) were invited to come to the mosque one evening for an iftar, a breaking of the fast. We watched the evening prayers while a member of their congregation explained what was happening and interpreted the words for us. Afterwards, again we were the guests of honor at a bountiful banquet. We were made to feel so welcome, it was clear that we were honored guests. It was a meal I will never forget.
Shortly before we started eating, to my surprise “Nancy” and her family walked in. Nancy and I had been close friends in college, but had lost track of each other in the ensuing years. Last I knew, Nancy was a Lutheran. Yet here she came in with her husband, who shook the hand of a local rabbi, also a friend of mine. It turned out that Nancy’s husband was a member of the neighborhood synagogue. They were carrying their young son, whom they had adopted from Vietnam a couple of years before. “I love where I live,” I remember thinking to myself. “Where else could I run into my Lutheran friend, her Jewish husband, and their Vietnamese son, in a mosque?” The encounters were unexpected, but it seemed somehow that God wants us to come together in these ways. I felt that night like I had glimpsed the kingdom of God.
II ) Application
Quotes from the chapter that warrant further thought:
“The deeper reason the monks needed one another was to save them from the temptation of believing in their own self-sufficiency (p. 90).”
“At the very least, most of us need someone to tell our stories to. At a deeper level, most of us need someone to help us forget ourselves, a little or a lot. The great wisdom traditions of the world all recognize that the main impediment to living a life of meaning is being self-absorbed (p. 91).”
“All you have to do is recognize another you “out there”-your other self in the world-for whom you may care as instinctively as you care for yourself. To become that person, even for a moment, is to understand what it means to die to yourself. This can be as frightening as it is liberating. It may be the only real spiritual discipline there is (p. 93).”
“At its most basic level, the everyday practice of being with other people is the practice of loving the neighbor as the self. More intricately, it is the practice of coming face-to-face with another human being, preferably someone different enough to qualify as a capital ‘O’ other-and at least entertaining the possibility that this is one of the faces of God (p. 94).”
“Here is a law as reliable as gravity: the degree to which we believe our faith makes us human is the same degree to which we will question the humanity of those who do not share our faith (p. 99).”
“The point is to see the person standing right in front of me, who has no substitute, who can never be replaced, whose heart holds things for which there is no language, whose life is an unsolved mystery (p. 102).”
“I did not want to be loved in general. I wanted to be loved in particular, as I was convinced God loved. Plus, I am not sure it is possible to see the face of God in other people if you cannot see the faces they already have (p. 103).”
III) Questions for Discussion
Have you ever had an encounter with someone very different from you that made a lasting impression? What was that like?
At what local place would you be out of your comfort zone? Have you ever gone there?
How do we fall into the trap of believing in our own self-sufficiency?
Do we believe that faith is what makes us human? Our faith specifically or any faith? What about people who have no faith?
The last line of the musical Les Miserables is “to love another person is to see the face of God.” Do you believe this to be true? Why or why not?
IV) Closing. The group sings “They’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love” (also known as “We Are One in the Spirit”)