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The nature of spiritual writingWednesday, December 27, 2017
From 1 John 1 Healthy! At least I am trying to recover from Christmas's garbage in, garbage out candy day. Enough said. I remember what Russ Hudson, in Understanding the Enneagram, wrote for me to remember last week: "In this week before Christmas, reflect on your spiritual gifts of enthusiasm, resilience, gratitude, practicality, joyousness, and productivity." Six geese a-laying for the Enneagram Seven. Mr. Hudson continued, "Share your gifts with others, not by talking about them, but through your example." But when I read this text of John, perhaps written from a cave on Patmos or a prison cell somewhere, I think John was happy to have words to share, and a chance to share them. Like all good spiritual writing, his words reflect enthusiasm (en-theus, in-God), resilence, gratitude, practicality, joy, and productivity. Since seventh grade (I was 11 years old) I've been writing stories, usually about me, in the first person. Back then, in the deep daily despairs of puberty, I mostly died at the end. Sometimes my pen just trailed a line off the page, "I'm g ... o ... n ... e ..." Fade to black. And now, hundreds of years later, I still notice how much I'm thinking about myself, although with less drama and less fear. For me, the gift I receive from my own spiritual writing is the chance to sift through those thoughts for something to share with you, something that reflects "resilience, gratitude, practicality and joy." Words that reflect the Light Enthusiastic. A story or even just a sentence that we can sing to God together. My lazy side resists. Like any good Ambivalent, I get up on both sides of the bed almost every day, and it's what happens next that sets the tone. So I cherish some quiet, slow-takes-time activity like centering prayer or just walking slowly to the bathroom. Here in Austin, with young man Miles, I can sit with his 13-month old self while we watch each other. He still talks mostly with his eyes. I think John had lots of quiet time later in his life. With much to remember, much to cherish, and much to offer us, he chose words that call us to deeds of mercy, grace, love and power. John knows that we are all God's kids. If he can help it, we will never forget that. Jesus, on this foggy, blue, post-Christmas day, bring me out of anticipation into reflection and peace. Your birth buoys me up and burns the clouds away. Your name is like honey on my lips, and your spirit is like water to my soul. |
Most mornings I break open an 8-pill-pack of Vitalive, a very comprehensive vitamin package that generally makes me feel better. They are sitting on the table in front of me, along with a smoothie made from grapes, carrots, yogurt, a tangerine and pineapple juice with ice. The sky outside in Austin is foggy and gray, but it's 52 degrees. And in Chicago on Christmas, it was two. Degrees!