Faith

Faith

“Faith means receiving God. It means being overwhelmed by God. Faith helps us find trust again and again, even when, from a human point of view, the foundations of truth have been destroyed. It gives us eyes to see what cannot be seen and hands to grasp what cannot be touched, even though it is always and everywhere present.”—Eberhard Arnold in Why We Live in Community (Plough, 2014). 

Faith is believing in something we cannot see or understand. The mind takes us to a certain level of belief, but faith is what enables us to take the leap from there. My favorite quote about faith, attributed to many people, is: “The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty.” If we are so sure about something, we have crossed back over that line, away from the place where faith abides. 

This gives all of us doubters great comfort. In fact, we know our doubts lead us into deeper faith—across the line, down new pathways, and sometimes even onto major highways. We may take a wrong turn, run a red light, hit someone, or become completely lost.

The Supper at Emmaus. Caravaggio

Then that stranger who met us on the road to Emmaus shows up. He may remind us of a Scripture passage that was meaningful to us in the past. He may ask us whether we remember how we have been continually cared for by the God of our understanding and by God’s stand-ins, our community and our friends. He constantly feeds us precisely what we need to continue the journey, and before he disappears, he leaves a GPS on the dinner table. 

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

How to Practice What We Preach

 How to Practice What We Preach

Sunrise Steve Wright

“If mainstream Christianity has steadily lost force and credibility, I wonder how much of that might be attributed to our preaching one gospel and living another. We preach the Good Samaritan and lock our church doors. We preach the lilies of the field and allocate large portions of our monthly paychecks to pension and insurance plans.”—Cynthia Bourgeault in Mystical Hope (Cowley, 2001). 

This is the old adage of ‘practicing what we preach.’ We talk one way but act another. My experience is that much of what we do is unconscious. We consider ourselves good and caring individuals. A particular belief is part of our core values, yet our society often speaks against it or fails to value it. This gives us excuses or wiggle room, so we don’t have to follow through.

My experience is that fear and a scarcity/zero-sum mentality most often keep us from becoming the person God created us to be. As a result, we cannot act on what we know at our core is true. We fear we will not have enough money. We worry someone will break in and steal what we already have. We fear our health will fail. We experience anxiety about being left alone, abandoned, or harmed. We fear that speaking out for what we believe will cause us to lose friends or even our jobs.

Being grateful and expressing thanksgiving for what we have is one of the best ways to move beyond a fear-based life. This practice offers us a daily reminder of how much God cares for us, loves us, and is always beside us.

When I am most fearful, I rise early in the morning to watch the sunrise, acknowledging the fear within me and making a gratitude list of how I have been cared for and loved. Out of deep darkness comes overwhelming light. God gives us fresh hope and a fresh start each day. Resurrection emerges from the darkness when we have the courage to look fear in the eye and recognize the blessings and gifts we have been given. 

Living in gratitude rather than fear can help us practice what we preach.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Ignatius of Loyola Taught Us a Contemplative Way to Heal Pain and Discern Our Next Steps

Ignatius of Loyola Taught Us a Contemplative Way to Heal Pain and Discern Our Next Steps

Guest Writer Lowell Grisham

We observe the Feast Day of St. Ignatius on July 31.

No one has done more work on the discipline of discernment than the Jesuits, the monastic descendants of Ignatius of Loyola. Although I can’t recall who taught it to me, I’ve used an Ignatian discernment method from time to time for many years when I’ve faced a choice between two options. Here’s how someone gave it to me:

In a battle in the early 1500s, Ignatius was seriously wounded. (I believe an artillery shell shattered his leg.) He spent months in painful convalescence. However, he found that his pain was sometimes relieved when he entered periods of active imagination. He imagined his life after he was healed and released from the hospital. He made up stories about his future, using all his senses to place himself there. He created scenes from his imagined future and experienced them vividly—with sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell—thinking and feeling what his alternative life might be. 

Whenever Ignatius was actively imagining, his pain decreased, and time seemed to pass more quickly. He discovered that his imagination gravitated toward two narratives. In one, he would become a great, chivalrous knight, perform valiant deeds of courage, and win the hand of a noble maiden. In the other, he would become a knight for Christ, boldly taking the gospel to the most remote, challenging, or needed places. 

While in active imagination, Ignatius experienced relief with either narrative. But he noticed a significant difference in where his spirit went afterward, when he was simply taking care of business in a normal state of consciousness.

He noticed that in the hours following his narratives about becoming a noble warrior knight, he experienced turbulence, discomfort, and even desolation. But he became aware that in the hours following his imagining of becoming a knight for Christ, he experienced consolation, harmony, and peace. Ignatius interpreted the sense of peace as the presence of God, drawing him into God’s will for him and helping him discern the direction of his future. So he embraced the vision of that second narrative and became a noble knight for Christ, seeking to undertake the most outstanding service possible to the Church and the world.

The presence of peace is a sign of God’s will. In the chaos and storm of a decision, I sometimes use a form of Ignatian discernment practice when there are two potential options or directions. First, I’ll set the two options before me. Then, one day, I’ll spend time actively imagining myself living in the first option, using all five senses to create scenes from that future possibility. Then, I’ll go about my regular daily activity, keeping a bit of attention on where my spirit goes. Another day, I’ll spend time in active imagination, living with the other option. Then, I’ll pay attention to my spirit, mood, and intuition during my ordinary daily work. What aftereffect is there following each separate scenario?

If I sense consolation and peace in the ordinary time following active imagination with one narrative, and if I perceive turbulence in the ordinary time following imagination with the other narrative, I’ll accept that as a sign of God’s will. The presence of peace is the key. 

Where does the peace of Christ lead us, especially when our boat seems tossed and we’ve lost our direction? A sense of peace can guide us toward God’s will for us and toward the fullest exercise of our creativity, courage, freedom, and service. Sometimes, a little active imagination can lead us toward discernment. 

Lowell Grisham

I use this in my life to discern directions for ministry and to offer it to others who are discerning a path on this journey. It was loaned to me by Lowell Grisham, the retired Rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Fayetteville, Arkansas.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/