The Spiritual Practice of Stability

This summer, I have been spending a lot of time reading books by Benedictine nun Joan Chittister. In the midst of social distancing and sheltering at home, it seemed like a wise thing to spend time with a monastic! Currently, I am reading “Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today.” In this book, she breaks down the Rule of St. Benedict, which were a set of guidelines for monastic living, which included ordering the day into hours for prayer, study, work, fellowship, and attending to the needs and health of the community, to show how it can inform contemporary life.

I have been reflecting on her chapter “Stability: Revelation of the Many Faces of God”.

We are currently in the midst of a time of great social instability. It feels as if all that we once rested on—the good and the bad—are now up for grabs and the very institutions we found comfort in are in the midst of tremendous change. What does “stability” look like in our current climate? How is finding and committing to stability a spiritual practice for us?

Even before COVID-19, Chittister critiqued our engagement with stability: “The problem is that perseverance and persistence are aspects of stability which the present word counts little. If our children don’t learn, we blame the teachers rather than expect the students to study harder. If the book is difficult, we don’t read it even if the intellectual struggle would be worth it. If the show is too long, we leave early even if that wastes the price of the ticker. If the work is hard, we quit.”

Ouch. This hit close to home!

She goes on to explain why stability is necessary: “Stability, however, says that we have an obligation to see things through until we have done for them what can be done and, no less important, until they have done for us what can be done as well.” (p. 151). Stability, with its aspects of perseverance and persistence, impacts not only others, but ourselves as well: “We stay with a thing in order to grow, not in order not to grow…I will certainly fail to learn a great deal about myself if I leave a thing before it’s finished. I will fail to learn the strengths that give me quality. And I will fail to face the weaknesses that call for change. I will end up being less than I can be.”(p. 152-153)

In the Rule of Benedict, stability’s first task is remaining steadfast in our relationship with God. In this way, stability centers “us in something greater than ourselves so that nothing lesser than ourselves can possibly sweep us away…Stability says that where I am is where God is for me.”

Chittister turned my understanding of stability upside down: stability isn’t the place where everything stays the same. It is an engagement that invites sticking with something long enough to be changed by it. And for this reason, stability is a spiritual practice: by committing to stability, we are opening ourselves up to growth, change, and conversion.

How are you creating and maintaining stability in these days we are living? What are you learning about yourself? Where are you committing yourself to growth even when the going gets hard? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Get Out of the Boat!

 This week’s lectionary is the story of Jesus walking on water as he came to the disciples, whom he had sent off on a boat. You will recall that when the disciples first saw Jesus walking on the water, they assumed it was some sort of specter and were afraid. But then Jesus told them, “Fear not! It is I!” Peter responded, “If it is you, then, let me come to you.” Jesus beckoned for Peter to come. Peter jumped out of the boat and began to walk on the water! It was only when he took his eyes off Jesus and realized there was a storm around him that he began to flounder and sink. Jesus reaches for him and asks why he had so little faith and they return to the boat.

As I reflected on this scripture this week, I am seeing so much more than I did before (I love how God does that!). The first thing that nudged me, which I hadn’t caught before, was that Peter actually did walk on water at first! It was only when he took his eyes off Jesus that the divine power that flowed through him because he was connected to Jesus was broken, overcome by his fear. How often do I, do we, start to do great things but get overwhelmed because we stop keeping the main thing (God) the main thing? When we are one with God, we are empowered to do things beyond our wildest imaginations. What is Christ beckoning you to do, that defies all reason? How has your fear prevented you from moving forward?

The second thing that I learned has to do with a part of the church: the nave. That is what the part of the church where the congregation sits. Nave originates from the Latin word “navis” which means…(wait for it!) “ship”.

It got me thinking: Jesus told the disciples to get into the boat, but he also says, “Come out!” Faith is not meant to be lived just in the boat. In fact, it would be hard to do all the things God asks of us if we stayed in the boat! Likewise, we can’t be the hands of Christ in the world if we just stay in the nave.  Christ asks us to leave the safety of the nave for a world that is most unpredictable, sometimes violent and even frightening, yet in need of the hands and heart of Christ which we are called to bring into the world.

Right now, we’ve been pushed out of the boat.

COVID-19 has forced us to leave the safety of the boat (in fact, if we don’t follow very careful instructions, the church building itself is no longer safe even). Yet, isn’t this what is expected of disciples of Jesus? We are not called to live out our faith from the safety of the sanctuary. Comfort and ease is not promised to us when we agree to take up our cross and follow Jesus. There is much to fear. But when we keep ourselves focused on God, we can do great things. And right now, the world needs great and necessary things from us.

How is Christ calling you and your church to leave the boat? What is being asked of you? Remember, we can do the unimaginable when we remain faithful in our discipleship.

Step out and do the outrageous. There is a hurting world in need of what you can bring to it.

Be Crazy...Good Crazy

Today, Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery preached at Glide as a part of the 45th anniversary celebration of Rev. Cecil Williams' ministry at Glide.  It was awesome to have a living legend of the civil rights movement provide us with the Word.  And what a word it was!  Of the many inspiring things he said, one thing I have been pondering was what he said about how those who pour themselves out as agents of God's love and justice--the saints--are pretty crazy people. But--as Joe reminded us--just as there is such a thing as good cholestorol and bad cholestorol--there is good crazy and bad crazy.  Saints are good crazy.  Rush Limbaugh is bad crazy.  And Willie Brown, according to Lowery, is bad and good crazy.

I believe that the goal of the Christian walk is to be good crazy. After all, following Jesus is a pretty (good) crazy thing to do. It is a (good) crazy counter cultural activity which upsets the status quo as it makes the first, last and the last, first.  It is (good) crazy in the way we are called to love our enemies and offer forgiveness when we've been wronged.  It is (good) crazy to speak truth to power. It is (good) crazy to think of everyone, EVERY ONE, as our brother and sister.

So my new spiritual discipline is to be crazy...good crazy.