One Way God Changes Us, Seeing Ourselves in Others

 Esther Harding: One Way God Changes Us, Seeing Ourselves in Others

Seeing Ourselves in Others

“We cannot change anyone else; we can change only ourselves, and usually only when the elements that need reform have become conscious through their reflection in someone else.”—M. Esther Harding, The ‘I’ and the ‘Not-I’: A Study in the Development of Consciousness, at InwardOutward.org.

Esther Harding was a British American and is considered the first significant Jungian analyst to practice in this country. Her first book, The Way of All Women (1975), was one of the first books I read during my early days of seeking to connect with feminine spirituality.

President Jimmy Carter wrote about reaching a point where we can give thanks for our difficulties during his final years. That seems almost impossible, but I can see his reasoning more clearly in Esther Harding’s writings. We wear our character defects and self-centeredness like an old, tattered bathrobe that is both ugly and yet comfortable and familiar. Our habitual way of life has become our familiar identity. We can only recognize these defects and behavior patterns in others, as they repulse us, and finally identify them as our own. Our behavior and reactions to the world keep us from connecting to God. 

I am continually amazed by how God uses everything to bring us back to God’s love and to connect us with the God within us and with our neighbor. We discover what blocks us from God’s love by first recognizing the barriers in others and seeing how unattractive they are. 

At some point, when the time is right, I can share Harding’s insights with spiritual friends who are also suffering. I also have spiritual friends who listen to me when suffering brings awareness, opening a crack of light into my own life.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Leading Others to Ministry, Sharing Our Call, and Honoring the Call of Others

Leading Others to Ministry, Sharing Our Call, and Honoring the Call of Others

St. Augustine Episcopal Church, Illinois

“You anoint my head with oil;

 my cup overflows.

 Surely  goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD

my whole life long.” Psalm 23: 5b-6. NRSV

Recently, I was at a meeting where I was asked to lead a healing service. Usually, I can handle almost all the parts and readings in the service, but I have been having difficulty with my voice after a long illness marked by a deep cough and hoarseness that damaged my vocal cords.

I am in speech therapy. My voice is improving, but it’s still not as strong as I’d like. I knew I had to ask others for help. In the end, I only participated in the short homily and assisted with the laying on of hands and anointing. There were two other deacons and a priest present, and I asked them to help with the anointing.

The service was beautiful, especially as we heard many other voices. After the service, the two deacons and the priest approached me and said they could not express how meaningful the anointing was. One was almost in tears. I was moved by how passionately each person spoke about how being involved in this sacramental rite of laying on hands and unction brought healing to them and to those they prayed for. 

Suddenly, I knew I was being called to do what deacons are supposed to do, namely to lead and then hand ministries over to others. This is a significant part of the deacon’s ministry. We help others become involved in a ministry and then hand it over to them.

 I am not giving up my call, but I am sharing it with others now. It is more than delegation. It sacramentally invites others to participate in a ministry to which they are now called. This is true in outreach and parish life ministries. In fact, it is a principal part of every aspect of ministry. We encourage, mentor, and lead others to become the person God created them to be.

Joanna Seibert https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Sacred Spaces Always Welcome Us Back Even In Our Memories

 Sacred Spaces Welcome Us Back

“The sea is his, and he made.”—Psalm 95:5.

 I am reliving the moment we returned to our sacred space on the Gulf after being away for months.

As I sip my morning tea, a huge welcoming party awaits us. A cool breeze keeps us from overheating. The wind carries the salty scent of the sea. Hundreds of fishing boats leave the pass early in the morning to say hello. A pelican silently flies by our balcony and tips her wings. Another comes so close that it takes our breath away. 

Gulls circle the water in front of us but decide not to stay. Their loud squawk tells us they would only stay if we fed them. The clouds above make funny little faces to make us laugh. The lone blue heron flies by but does not land. He must be visiting new friends down the beach. Dolphins have not arrived, but they may extend the welcome later in the day. I hear the Blue Angels but cannot see them. A sparrow patiently waits on our balcony for any breakfast crumbs.

I think of the men, women, and children in the fishing boats. What will they catch today? They cast their lines deep beneath the surface, sometimes to great depths. Some venture far from land in search of the unknown. The fishermen travel with guides who know where to go because they have been there before. 

It is another metaphor for our spiritual journey, in which we search beneath the surface of our lives to reach a deeper place of memories, dreams, and reflections. We go with spiritual guides who have been there before and know the territory. We share the joy of what we have found within community. We bring back into our bodies the nourishment we had forgotten and share it.

There is so much more in store for us in the deeper waters than what is found by the lone fisherman casting his line from the shore. However, this fisherman meditates while waiting for the infrequent nibbles from the sea. He also has the opportunity to go deeper into his mind. He also shares his poles with young children, teaching them the new art form. Another stands by with a cell phone to make a permanent memory of the event.

God is there, reaching out to us no matter how we search. The finding is always in the searching.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/