It has now been several weeks since the inhumane murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd, which re-ignited not only national but global attention to the Black Lives Matter movement. Social media posts expressing lament and outrage and detailing calls for action through protests, donations, policy changes, and institutional reform have flooded our news feeds. As these conversations slowly revert to our ego-centered lives, I have been reflecting on how we as people of faith can keep ourselves accountable to continue combating anti-black racism in the United States. What does sustainable allyship look like?
COVID Kavod
God’s grace is with us, we trust, even in a strange time of pandemic which has prevented us from gathering together in person with anyone outside of our own households. The crisis time fell within our seasons of Lent and Eastertide, bringing us through Ascension Day (when, some people are saying, Jesus began “working from home”). Now following Pentecost, we’ve entered what Christian liturgical calendars call “Ordinary Time,” days of trusting that Jesus is with us, sometimes noticing him and many times not being sure if we do.
The Companionship of Candlelight
“When near the end of day, life has drained out of light, and it is too soon for the mind of night to have darkened things, no place looks like itself, loss of outline makes everything look strangely in between, unsure of what has been, or what might come.”
– John O’Donohue, “For The Interim Time” from The Bless the Space Between Us
“Prayer is a matter of relationship. Intimacy is the basic issue, not answers to problems or resolutions ‘to be better.’ Many of life’s problems and challenges have no answers; we can only live with and through them. Problems and challenges, however, can be faced and lived through with more peace and resilience if people know that they are not alone.”
-William J. Barry, SJ from Letting God Come Close: An Approach to The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises
As I write this piece, well after midnight, I am awaiting another text or phone call from my sister or brother-in-law to update us about her condition. I wonder if it will be yet another sleepless night of enduring radiating pain down her left side, her leg, her left arm, as well as pain within her chest. Seemingly around midnight the pain had migrated to her face. If this sounds alarming enough to warrant a visit to the ER, or a call to 911, or at the very least phoning in to the advice nurse on duty – you are thinking as we all have. It has been a week-long stretch of being in constant contact with the hospital and her doctor. Still, she has not been able to qualify for a test for coronavirus despite her obvious presentation. These neuromuscular and neuralgic symptoms along with strange bouts of overwhelming fatigue, stomach distress, elevated liver levels, headaches, and nausea seem to be the lingering after-effects of what we (“we” includes several doctors within the family) all suspect is COVID-19. It has been two months now of a strange and frightening ebb and flow in and out of sickness. And for those of us who love her, it has been an agonizingly painful time of remaining vigilant with her from afar as best we can.
And so I sit in my office trying to write by the same candlelight I use for my directees and clients each day. I pray desperately for God’s grace to remain in a palpable way for my sister and her family. I sit and wait, and I cry. Staying awake, waiting for another fearful text in the dark of night is the only thing I can do for her now. She has asked if I can be with her in this way as she knows I am a night owl, but also, I’m her older sister…and some things just don’t change with time.
I restlessly make tea and re-arrange meaningless things in my kitchen and then I come back to my computer and stare at the screen. The paralysis feels thick as the hour-hand hits two, then three hours past midnight. No word from her so I pray that she was able to sleep. I get lost momentarily in a YouTube spiral as one is prone to do when attempting to dissociate from the stress of it all. But eventually I come back to a place where I can handle the silence, save for the clacking of my fingers upon the keys. I come back to the candle and attempt to find some focus. And it is in this coping loop that I am reminded of a universal truth that has struck so many of my clients in this time—that it is imperative to not rush through lament.
In fact, perhaps many of us find ourselves still lingering in Good Friday even though eighteen days have passed since Easter Sunday. I so appreciate the gospels for offering the very real and very human responses with which the disciples dealt with traumatic grief. Some (namely the women) stayed vigilant and remained. The day after Sabbath they were back at the tomb ready to tend to Jesus’s body, again. Some fled the scene altogether. At least one railed in his grief and needed to see the proof in order to believe. So many of us can relate to at least one of these responses, I’m sure. And yet, in all of this I observe and I am drawn to how Jesus was with them. It doesn’t appear that he rushes them through the process of their grief. At times his way is mysterious and even feels too slow for my liking. Nonetheless, he remains where they are. He lingers long enough to wait out their veils of confusion and disorientation. He walks with them, cooks for them, allows them to touch his wounds…and he rehearses life with them until they can see the familiar signs that intimate true and long-suffering companionship.
I am not sure I am offering anything new, but perhaps it is enough to reinforce things we already know at a time like this. As a trauma care practitioner and spiritual director, so often these days I find myself ruminating over healthy coping skills and resiliency patterns with clients, friends, and family. My invitation is less about how to build and discover resilience in this moment than it is about remembering and recalling what your body already knows. We can too quickly move toward the recovery process when it is enough to simply remain present to our response. The world is still enduring the pandemic and recovery from a collective trauma such as this is a slow, graduated process that can only happen if we move through the experience one moment at a time, both on an individual and communal level.
A few contemplative questions come to mind to close this piece. My hope is that something may rise to the surface or linger from these next reflections (maybe just a word, phrase or image), but certainly it is okay if does not. What do you need to remain present to in this time? Are there things that have remained hidden or that you have set aside for the sake of coping? Who might witness you in your journey and remind you that you are seen and heard? How may remaining present to yourself invite you to notice how Jesus/Holy/Divine/Spirit may remain with you? And how may this allow you to slowly increase your capacity to hold space for others as well?
Whatever your experience, my prayer and my hope is that grace does not feel far removed from you and that, somehow, the presence of the Holy remains with you in exactly the way that you need – if even just by candlelight.
Naisa Wong, Mdiv, DASD, New College Berkeley faculty in spiritual direction
A Journey from Ego to True Self in the Spiritual Exercises Group
“What brings you into this Spiritual Exercise meeting?” When I asked the participants this question, most of them answered, “I want to deepen my relationship with God.” We were a group of eight, engaged in our busy lives, and yet we wanted to come together through the Spiritual Exercises.
The Spiritual Exercises are a set of Christian contemplations and prayers written by Ignatius of Loyola, who lived from 1491 to 1556. This practice helps deepen our relationship with God and make important life decisions through seeking God’s will in our daily life. We have committed to 30 weeks of daily prayer and reflection and supporting one another through a weekly meeting.
When we meet, we share our experience of using Ignatius’s method of contemplating the Scriptures over the past week. The group facilitators offer material for the coming week and facilitate the group to help members pay attention to God’s movements. The group facilitators help members live out the consequences of their relationship with God.
During our time together so far, I lived through a season of frustration and mild depression. The frustration was propelled by the rejection of my applications to two full-time Christian spirituality faculty positions. When I meditated on Jesus’ temptations, I learned more about myself. I was trying to acquire power, status, and possessions through these jobs.
When I contemplated Jesus’ Gethsemane prayer and facing of his own death, I saw Jesus’ sorrow, agony, and need: “Stay with me!” In his prayer, even though he expressed his desire, he finally accepted God’s will from his heart. Jesus was able to suffer and die for the love of his disciples, other people, and us because he surrendered to God’s will.
In contrast, his disciples, especially Peter, denied knowing Jesus and ran from him. Many religious leaders were trying to lead Jesus to his death at the hands of the Roman Empire in order to keep their power. I sensed Jesus’ voice, the disciples’ wounds, and religious leaders’ nefarious agendas.
Gradually, Jesus Christ revealed why my ego wanted these faculty positions. I wanted to hide my issues within the power of a position, for example, my low-self-esteem, my fear of being rejected, and my inadequateness. However, Jesus kept inviting me to come to his heart and see myself as I am, as he sees me. I practiced facing my darkest wounds, pain, and the fear that can take me over. In my contemplative prayer, I was able to name these and see them as they were and embrace them. As I continued my comtemplative practice, I started feeling gratitude and joy as I got to see myself as Christ sees me. I could accept myself for the small things that I can do in the service of God even though I don’t have a powerful position. This process of accepting myself as I am was liberating. This journey took me from my ego dominating my self-image to being able to see myself truly and in the eyes of the Lord.
I became more naked before God and the group members as I shed my ego, which was trying to grasp power, fame, and security for itself. The more naked I became, the more my authentic self could embrace who I truly am. I became more seeking of God’s wisdom, will, and presence so that, now, I may bring God’s love to those I meet. The whole process gave me spiritual freedom. I became much more true to myself, engaging in small acts with God’s loving heart rather than doing work that feeds my ego from praise and status.
How did this happen? My answer is that it happened by God’s grace. I appreciate that I can deeply engage in Ignatian contemplative prayer with the other group members. And whenever I share my experiences with them, they hold me as I am, without judgment. The group’s support creates a space where the Spirit leads me to spiritual freedom. I am grateful that the group members are accompanying me on this journey.
In this season of the coronavirus crisis, we are still gathering to share via a Zoom call. Even though we prefer to meet in person, gathering virtually is an excellent way of joining together. Despite the physical distance, we can sense our spiritual closeness through God. Each member has their own crisis, health issues, or relationships; we have been sharing our concerns and emotions and are holding each other together in God. This solidarity with one another gives us space toward others during this crisis. If we have a community where Jesus Christ is at the center, we can have faith, hope, and love no matter how severe the problems are that we face, and we can get through this crisis as we expand our solidarity and compassion to others in the world.
The Reverend Dr. Daeseop Yi is pastor and a scholar of Christian spirituality with a Ph.D. from the GTU. He is a NCB Visiting Professor of Spirituality and a Spiritual Director.
Praying with Ignatius During Lent
St. Ignatius, who started the Society of Jesus (Jesuits), was a 16th Century saint who had a major conversion experience while recovering from surgery. He wrote about his experiences of prayer, and called them "Spiritual Exercises." He designed the prayers as a 30-day "retreat," but added a 19th annotation at the end, saying, "If for reasons of business or family obligations, you can't go away for 30 days, you can do this retreat in 30 weeks."
The Narrow Task of Teaching Biblical Hebrew
Is Biblical Studies in conflict with faith? This was not the question I was asked at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley in a survey given to Ph.D. students. Rather, the question was: How do you handle the conflicts of biblical studies with your personal faith?
My initial thought was: What conflict? Contrary to the assumption that there was a conflict, I felt a strong harmony between biblical studies and devotional reading of scripture. Seconds after my initial reaction, a list crossed my mind of friends and acquaintances who had "lost their faith" as a result of intellectual conflicts arising from their seminary training. This was what the survey was addressing.
Eat This Scroll
The Spirit’s command to Ezekiel, “Eat this scroll,” is one of many startling moments in the history of prophecy. I think of it when I’m reflecting on reading—a thing I do often, having spent much of my life as an English professor. We eat the words we read: we take them in; we ingest them; we rely on them for spiritual nourishment, as our bodies rely on food. Eating is a powerful metaphor—and perhaps more than a metaphor—for reading. It reminds us that we do not live by bread alone.
Annunciations and Advents in Our Lives
We all wonder how we can express gratitude to God for the great gift of Jesus Christ. The shepherds in the fields received God’s announcement (annunciation) and greeted Jesus’ arrival (advent). We can do the same by opening our hearts and minds to what God is communicating to us and rejoice in the One who is always arriving in our lives.
Thanksgiving 2019
Whoever claims to abide in Him must walk as Jesus walked. 1 John 2:6
Dear Friends,
So much in the life of Jesus happens on the road while walking—teaching,
healing, sharing meals, and encountering people from all walks of life. The
passage from 1 John 2:6 instructs us to walk, even as Jesus walked, though the
text translated into English often translates the Greek walking words (periepatesen and peripatein)
with live and lived. Both words—live and walk—offer sightlines into the life of faith.
Seeking Jesus in the Gospel of John
The question, “What are you looking for?” are the first words of Jesus in the Gospel of John. The question is addressed to potential disciples, two of John the Baptist’s disciples, who ask him, “Where are you staying?”
Jesus, extending a gracious invitation, says to them, “Come and see.” And so begins the adventurous journey of the first disciples in the Gospel of John.
Jesus’ question “What are you looking for?” reverberates on many levels in the minds and hearts of people down through the centuries. It’s a question that stirs us as well. What are we looking for? What are we seeking? The gracious invitation to come and see—to investigate Jesus’ teaching, person, and hopes for humankind—fills the pages of the Fourth Gospel. When one is invited to find out where Jesus stays (abides) one is invited into the joyful, challenging adventure of discipleship. Throughout this Gospel people are invited into a journey of spiritual discovery that quenches one’s thirst and feeds one’s soul.
“What are you discussing with each other as you walk along?”: NCB and Sacred Consciousness
Jesus wants to know what’s on our minds and hearts. He wants us to pay attention, too, and helps us notice our, so often unconscious, awareness of the holy in our everyday lives and in our hearts. Jesus cultivates, as it were, our sacred consciousness.
On the Emmaus road he approached the couple fleeing Jerusalem with this question: What are you discussing with each other as you walk along? They hedged in their response—after all, he’s a stranger and they’re part of a persecuted group. But he got their attention. In response to his question, they stood still and looked sad. This may have been the first time they really paused and felt the depth of their sadness. His holy listening enabled them to do so.
Receiving the Divine on Friday Nights at the Movies
Recently, a favorite author of mine wrote (somewhere I can’t now seem to recall or find) about a man who “has had a greater impact on [his] life” than anyone he’s ever known. He bragged that this friend, among other things, hadn’t watched a film since “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” was in theatres (1988, in case you were wondering). “He’s too busy living his adventurous life” is how I remember him putting it.
Which left me feeling rather self-conscious.
Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius: Imagine Me, A Saint!
The subject header read “Summer Greetings!” and it came from a person of faith I’d admired from a distance for some time. A mutual friend had recommended me for a 30-week course called the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, a class at New College Berkeley (NCB) with which I was nominally familiar. The email writer made herself available if I wanted to chat.
Crossing the Threshold - What is really going on?
It is the second Saturday of the month. Five individuals sip morning beverages and nibble on nuts, fruit and cheese around the kitchen counter. Greetings are exchanged. There is chatter: inquiries about trips and children, complaints about traffic and parking, upcoming events. Voices are friendly. Smiles and laughter are evident.
Emmaus Notes: Luke 24:13-35
Imagine the couple fleeing Jerusalem after Jesus’ death. They’ve not experienced “Good Friday” as we do, already sending Easter cards and preparing for the celebratory feast. They’re engulfed in loss, grief, and fear.
We encounter them a few days after Jesus’ gruesome death as they’re walking to Emmaus. If Cleopas is the same person written about in John 19:25, it’s probable that the two people walking to Emmaus are Cleopas and his wife Mary, who stood at the foot of the cross with other women who loved Jesus. Remember the scene they’ve witnessed.