Last Sunday, we talked about contemplative spirituality as a necessary antidote for our souls [If you missed it you can check out the sermon podcast]. For it is the portal to the direct life-giving presence of God. When we are rooted in contemplative spirituality, we are more receptive and malleable in the hands of God, and the life of Christ flows more freely through us.

So Chris Heuertz in his book, The Sacred Enneagram, asserts that solitude, silence and stillness are the lifesaving corrections to the absurdity we've fallen into - the addictions, the coping mechanisms or whatever is out of control in our lives. And he insists that contemplative practice is crucial to living into transformation and wholeness in our lives.

That said, it's unfortunate that we tend to resist solitude, silence and stillness because some aspects of our awakening, growth and development cannot be realized without them. Each is a work of grace, a work only God can do in us. We need practices that open us to this grace, this work of God. God is love and therefore God can be trusted.

In silence, God will do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.This is easier said than done. First, we must being to recognize our inherent addictions and compulsions that we use to cope with our sense of inner dread. We all have them. When life goes sideways, these are the primary ways we seek to regain a sense of being okay.

[And by the way, these are the same temptations of Jesus recorded in the gospels: the need for power and control, the need for affirmation and esteem and the need for security. Curious? See blog post and sermon podcast.]

Stillness as the antidote to our need for Control
Some of us are obsessed with control. (According to the Enneagram, these would be types 8,9 and 1 in the Gut Center.) When life comes at us, we seek to gain equilibrium by funneling all of our drive and energy into some illusion of control. But according to Heuertz, stillness is crucial for us. Because for those of us with drive, whether we are fighting for justice or mediating peace or fixing what is broken in the world, what happens when we stop? Who are we without the good we do? And so when we are forced to stop, we may realize how over-identified are with our drive to do. Stillness then becomes a necessary counterpoint to our need to control and brings us into freedom.

Solitude as the corrective to our need for Affirmation
Some of us are obsessed with the affirmation and approval of others. (According to the Enneagram, these would be types 2,3,and 4 in the Heart Center.) And so for us feeling types who are addicted to the affirmation and opinion of others, solitude is crucial. Solitude functions as a corrective to the dependency on connection and comparison to somehow validate ourselves. So then, who are we when we are alone? When we can't meet the needs of another? When we can't read a room to get what we want? When there is no one around to see and appreciate us? And so often when we are disconnected from ourselves, we never fully feel embraced by others and we can feel lonely; and yet if we can connect to our true essence we can bring our true self into relationship. And so solitude is key in this recovery. Because in solitude, we allow space for our true essence, our soul, to emerge. Solitude teaches us how to be present - present to God, to ourselves and to others with no strings attached.

Silence as the counter to our need for Security
Some of us are obsessed with security and survival (These are the thinking types 5, 6 and 7 in the Head Center). And for those of us who cope by anxious thought processes in our heads, silence is crucial. Is it possible for us to turn down the inner noise - everything that serves as a distraction - to be able to really listen? Can we stop searching for answers long enough to hear the answer within? Can we stop worrying long enough to hear the quiet voice inside assuring us that everything will be okay? Can we dial down our anxious addiction to adventure and opportunity to hear that everything we need is already present? Silence helps us learn how to listen to the voice of God in our lives, a voice we may have been unable to recognize before. Silence helps us listen to the people in our lives who speak loving words of truth or affirmation over us. And silence helps us to listen to ourselves, both our desires and our fears.

When we give ourselves to contemplative practices marked by solitude, silence and stillness, our souls are nurtured, our gifts blossom and our true selves emerge. Contemplative spirituality calms the body, stills the emotions and quiets the mind. And in so doing, it liberates us from ego addictions, giving us the freedom to make major corrections to our behaviors informed by our True Self.

In other words, contemplative practice brings transformation.
So that we can become more like Christ as we follow the Way.

And so I hope you will begin to experience the richness of contemplative spirituality as you try some new practices this week! I have included some resources below to spark your imagination and curiosity.


CONTEMPLATIVE PRACTICE

• Centering Prayer
• Centering Prayer App
• Lectio Divina
• The Prayer of Examen
• Welcoming Prayer
• Fixed Hour Prayer
• Daily Prayers - Sacred Space
• Daily Prayers - Pray As You Go App
• Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton
• Strengthening the Soul of your Leadership by Ruth Haley Barton

by Jessica Ketola

​This week, we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. Day and this beautiful dream he had of the beloved community. Dr. King worked tirelessly for the day when men and women everywhere, regardless of color or creed, would be equal members of the human family as children of God. Not only did he die for this dream, but his life was tragically snuffed out before he ever tasted of it. And sadly, this dream still alludes us.

I believe this dream is the dream pictured in Revelations where the great multitude is gathered, every nation, every tribe, every people and every language worshipping together. And I believe that this message of reconciliation is THE MESSAGE of the gospel.

"For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ, and through him God reconciled everything to himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of Christ’s blood on the cross." [Colossians 1:19-20]

And yet we are living in divisive times where hate, fear, greed and violence often feel like they are winning. Where war and genocide still occur, where racism and oppression are rampant, where walls are built to keep the "other" out and children are separated from their parents. There is a collective groan, one articulated by the Psalmists long ago.

O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? 
How long will you look the other way? 
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, 
with sorrow in my heart every day? 
How long will my enemy have the upper hand? [Psalm 13:1-2]

This was the prayer we uttered in Turkish and then English at the Peace Feast on Sunday as we shared a meal with Turkish Muslim Refugees. A fitting prayer in response to the stories of oppression, incarceration, and harsh treatment the Turkish refugees experienced and are still experiencing by being a part of the wrong social group. They fled from forced poverty and inhumane conditions in prison as everyday teachers, civil servants and journalists were locked away on unsubstantiated "terrorist" charges. Not unlike so many in the world today persecuted because they are the wrong race, culture, affiliation, religion or political party.

It was hard to believe that these kind and gracious people I sat across the table from were a threat to their government. But then again, our own government was founded upon these same racist, prejudiced principles.

“Our nation was born in genocide when it embraced the doctrine that the original American, the Indian, was an inferior race. Even before there were large numbers of Negroes on our shore, the scar of racial hatred had already disfigured colonial society. From the sixteenth century forward, blood flowed in battles over racial supremacy. We are perhaps the only nation which tried as a matter of national policy to wipe out its indigenous population. Moreover, we elevated that tragic experience into a noble crusade. Indeed, even today we have not permitted ourselves to reject or feel remorse for this shameful episode. Our literature, our films, our drama, our folklore all exalt it. Our children are still taught to respect the violence which reduced a red-skinned people of an earlier culture into a few fragmented groups herded into impoverished reservations.” Dr. King.

Hagar and her husband Nazim were beautiful people, explaining to us how Hagar's name is derived from the Abraham story, a story we both share as Muslims and Christians. Yes, indeed, we are brothers and sisters. And God's work is one of reconciliation and peace. I could tell this resonated between us as we exchanged contact details, promising to continue the conversation before we said our goodbyes.

This beloved community is the community that I want to work towards building. Far more than a nice ideal and a nod to justice that I as a white, privileged woman can feel good about for a day, I am committed to join in and support this work over the long haul as I learn from and follow those who have gone before.

The world doesn't need our niceness, white folks. Neither does it need our mediocrity. Instead, we are invited to follow the radical teachings of Jesus.

As the civil rights activist and author, Dominique Gilliard has challenged us, "Pastors please stop domesticating the radical teachings and example found in the Christ!"

And as a church, this is the work. God's work of renewal, healing and reconciliation in the world. And we get to be a part of it.

▪ As we share meals with Turkish Muslim refugees and extend warm welcome and solidarity for the suffering of their people.

▪ As we show up in our places to join the work with our neighbors at The Beloved Community event in Edmonds, the MLK event at Casa Latina, the Edwin Pratt Living the Dream event at Shoreline City Hall, and the Shoreline Social Justice Book Club.

▪ As we gather around tables with neighbors and strangers alike as we did last night. I had the gift of meeting Massoud, an Iranian American, and hearing the heartbreak of his story as he shared about the loss of his beloved wife. Yes, we are brothers and sisters, all of us, longing for connection, aching to be heard, yearning for home.

▪ As we lament and create songs, poems and art that express our prayers and our dreams for all of us to flourish. Check out Cecelia Romero Like's poem this week.

▪ And as I prepare to attend our Turning Point community meal tonight in honor of Martin Luther King Jr., I look forward to taking in the beautiful diversity that at times takes my breath away. A reminder that heaven is near. A vision of the beloved community -- where Christian and Muslim, Eritrian and Ethiopian, Filipino and Mexican, indigenous and immigrant, those with homes and those without, those with parents and those aching for their loved ones -- will all come together and experience the power of community.

"The cross is the eternal expression of the length to which God will go in order to restore broken community. The resurrection is a symbol of God’s triumph over all the forces that seek to block community. The Holy Spirit is the continuing community creating reality that moves through history. He who works against community is working against the whole of creation." Dr. King

May you follow the radical teachings of Jesus. May you include those who others shun. May you listen to stories and experiences that are foreign to you. May you give up power, privilege and preference so that the voices of others can be heard. May you break bread with those whose ideology offends yours. May you learn to love your enemies.

by Jessica Ketola

​This last Sunday, we continued our conversation about Soulful Living. Many of you are familiar with the classic comedy film, What About Bob?. In it, Bill Murray plays this neurotic, phobic, obsessive-compulsive personality with innumerable needs who follows his exasperated therapist, played by Richard Dreyfuss, on vacation.

But Bob has needs.

He has terrible anxiety leaving his house. And I quote, “I get weird. I get dizzy spells, nausea, cold sweats/hot sweats, fever blisters, involuntary trembling, blurred vision, dead hands, numb lips, fingernail sensitivity, pelvic discomfort, difficulty breathing, difficulty swallowing... What if my heart stops beating? What if I’m looking for a bathroom and I can’t find one and my bladder explodes?” Yes, Bob has needs. And yet in this analogy.

Your soul is Bob; and you are Richard Dreyfuss.*

[*Stolen from the book by John Ortberg, Soul Keeping.]

It is the nature of the soul to need.

Thomas Aquinas wrote that the neediness of our souls is what points us to God. For we are limited creatures, virtually in every way; in our intelligence, our strength, our energy, our morality. But as Kent Dunnington puts it,

“We are limited in every way but one: we have unlimited desire.”

We always want more: more time, more wisdom, more beauty, more chocolate, more Netflix. This is the soul crying out. In a sense, we never have enough. And yet the truth is that the soul’s infinite capacity to desire is the mirror image of God’s infinite capacity to give.

The unlimited neediness of the soul matches the unlimited grace of God.

Which is great for those of us who are afraid of our need. That somehow it is too much, shameful, or despicable. Afraid that we may be overwhelmed by the abyss of our need. But God’s grace is boundless. And surely, if God’s grace is enough for Bob, it is enough for us.

So the soul is needy. The soul desires. What the soul truly desires is God.

We may try to fill that need with other things. Which is in fact at the root of our sin, our idolatry, or what we would call addiction. This is simply the soul meeting its need with anything that disrupts our communion with God.

And so while we may try to fill that need with other things, the soul will never be satisfied without God. The psalmist speaks of this in Psalm 84, “My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.”

The soul needs to be with God.

And throughout the Scriptures, we see that the soul was designed to desire, to search, to thirst for God. Our souls thirst for God as parched land thirsts for water. Our souls desire to be with God, to be seen and to be known and to be held. Our souls are clingy the Psalmists say. Our souls cling to God. Our souls wait for God. Our souls stalk God (like Bob). For we are meant to live in the very presence of God.

Our souls will never find rest until they rest in God.

And this is the way we are created. To be in abiding communion with God even as Adam and Eve walked with God in the cool of the day.

But I don't have to tell you that modern life today is a hostile environment for the soul. There is no time for rest, let alone resting in God. And yet our souls are hungry. Our souls are weary.

A Beautiful Invitation

Jesus said this, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” [Matthew 11:28-30 MSG]

This is such a beautiful invitation from Jesus to us. That we could come to him and recover our lives and learn the unforced rhythms of grace.

Join us this Sunday as we continue our conversation about Soulful Living and examine how to practice the presence of God in our everyday, chaotic lives, learning from Brother Lawrence, Saint Ignatius and many mystics and monastics who have gone before us.

For our souls need. Our souls need God. And our souls need rest.In fact, they crave it. The soul knows only borrowed strength. The soul is meant to rest in God like a tree rests in the soil, like a branch rests in the vine.
​
May you answer this beautiful invitation of Jesus to come and find rest.


by Jessica Ketola

Happy New Year! I hope your holidays were full of meaningful connections and at least a little bit of rest and relaxation in the midst of the hubbub. I know I always enjoy the freshness of the new year and the opportunity to reflect and to discern what the Spirit is inviting us to. And so as I write to you this morning, I am full of hope as we embark on a new year together as a community. God's faithfulness to us this far has been absolutely stunning, and I am fully confident in God's goodness to lead us forward.

When we relaunched The Practicing Church just two years ago, we had a dream. Of being a community that was actively seeking to live into the way of Jesus together. Of being the church, not simply going to church. Of becoming incarnational, the-presence-of-God-in-human-form kind of people in our neighborhoods, schools and workplaces. Joining in God's work of reconciliation, peace, healing and renewal. And while, we are a people in process, this is happening! So many of you are on the ground in your classrooms, in your counseling offices, in your nonprofits, in your homes, workplaces, and neighborhoods. You are present. You are listening. You are engaging in the work of Jesus.

We had a dream that we would be a community. That church wouldn't look like consumption but contribution. That every member could offer their gifts to create a beautiful mosaic. And that every person would be saying yes to their unique call and vocation, moving on the contemplative journey inward, the activist journey outward and the communal journey together. And this too is happening! We are regularly inspired by the musicians, poets, writers, contemplatives, activists, engineers, teachers and artists among us. I love Sundays, especially the ones where multiple and diverse voices and gifts are offered. And I love that you all are committed to being on the transformational journey. I get the sacred privilege of hearing many of your stories of courage, healing and growth in your lives, and you inspire me.

We had a dream that we would begin to embed in our neighborhoods to practice the simple mandate to love our neighbor. We had a dream of living in proximity and intentionally building community in a way that was sustainable and rich. And while the scale has been smaller and the pace slower than we had imagined, we are also beginning to see some beautiful things emerge! Our neighborhood dinners every Wednesday now include 12-15 of our surrounding neighbors and we look forward to connecting each week. And life in our neighborhood is sweet. The daily rhythms are rich, from seeing our housemates everyday, impromptu dinners, football games watched together, movie nights, and missing ingredients borrowed to early morning walks with neighbors, tamale making parties, shared gardens, and neighborhood murals. We are beginning to hear the deeper stories of our neighbors, and a robust community is forming.

We had a dream of participating in the flourishing of our community. Of participating in equity, justice and renewal. And while we have so many burgeoning dreams, we are becoming a part of the fabric of care in Shoreline. Through Turning Point's work of equity, inclusion, empowerment and education, we are bringing neighbors together to care for one another. Through the Shoreline Social Justice Book Club, community meals, the Community Resource Team for Shoreline youth, Richmond Highlands Neighborhood Association, Coffee and Breakfast on Aurora, and peacemaking events, we have the privilege of being a part of what the Spirit is up to in this community.

And I am so grateful. Overwhelmingly grateful. As I call each of your faces to mind; as I remember all the promises of God to me personally and to us as a community; as I meditate on the faithfulness of God to us over and over again; I am filled with hope.

Happy New Year! May 2019 be a year of deep connection, soulful living, and wild adventure!

by Jessica Ketola