Book Review: Nature as Spiritual Practice - by Steven Chase

Hi all - I wrote a book review of Nature as Spiritual Practice by Steven Chase for the Presbyterian Outlook. Copying the review here too.

Monday, 09 January 2012 04:09

Nature as Spiritual Practice by Steven Chase Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmanns. 286 pages reviewed by SARAH SCHERSCHLIGT On a morning walk, I caught sight of a bird circling over a pond. I was awestruck to witness it plummet into the pond and emerge with a catch. My awe quickly turned to horror as I realized that the catch of the day was a red plastic cup, stuck on its feet. The bird was clearly in distress as it flew away low to the ground, crying. I said a prayer of lament for the polluted pond and asked God to help the bird shake free. I am a nature lover. In this instance, however, the spiritual connection I felt to that bird was stronger than normal. It’s no coincidence that I was reading Steven Chase’s “Nature as Spiritual Practice.” He is convinced (and he convinces) that relationship with nature nurtured through spiritual practice can interrupt the downward cycle of ecological destruction. Chase connects the recent reemphasis on Christian practices with the ecological crisis unique to our time. By describing specific practices, Chase invites the reader through cycles of contemplation and action: “Nature as practice shapes attention and wonder; it also shapes activism.” Culling sources ranging from the Desert Fathers to Julian of Norwich to Paul in Romans to Paul Tillich, he teases out creation-oriented themes, creating an overall fabric for appreciating nature as an integral part of our spiritual heritage. The wealth of quotes and references is worth the price of the book. Chase knows Scripture and is clearly rooted in Christian sources, but he downplays the specificity of the Christian tradition, often using terms like “divine” instead of God. This creates a possibility for dialogue between contemplative aspects of many religions, especially between Buddhism and Christianity. It also creates the opportunity to connect with people who find God in nature but not in church. The title itself underscores the approach; nature is spiritual practice. Thus a heron not only teaches us about prayer, it prays; a tree not only teaches us to listen, it listens. Moreover, nature is more than a metaphor or a model for human spirituality; it has a spiritual life of its own. I wrestled with this approach because of the inherent anthropomorphism (how does a tree listen without ears?). Ultimately, however, Chase’s approach leads to a deeper respect for nature’s spirituality and the inherent good of the natural world. A field guide with 64 practices accompanies the main book. When attempting these practices, I found that I needed to interrupt the practice in order to keep referencing the field guide. It would take some, uh, practice, to use the field guide smoothly, but that’s part of the point. Chase intends readers to become acquainted with the field guide over regular use and to grow in their spiritual practice. Chase has included well-designed sample retreats for leaders. These are a bonus and a gift to those interested in spiritual retreats. Rarely is a set of books so theologically rich also so practical. For anyone concerned with how people can connect with nature to change the way we relate to this precious world, “Nature as Spiritual Practice” is a uniquely valuable resource.

Follow-up from last Sunday - Stop and hear the music

Hi all - last Sunday I used a few video/visual elements in church. I'm thankful for people like Gordon who take time to make things work! We had no tech problems - a wonderful feat given the fact that this was our first attempt. Aaron did an amazing job with the visual offertory. When we have it linked to the music I'll post it.

The bulk of my sermon centered on this clip from a concert that violinist Joshua Bell gave in a DC metro station a few years ago during rush hour. This article gave background information




I drew a metaphor between Bell showing up in an unexpected place/time to give a free, beautiful concert and God, showing up in unexpected places/times to give us peace, joy, inspiration and love.

I noted that in contrast to the obviousness of the Angel Gabriel's visit to Mary, most of us, most of the time, encounter God in less direct ways. God comes to us more like a busker in the metro than an angel who tells us our future.

Key points:
5) God's presence sometimes captures people's attention by surprise (one man who had never appreciated classical music found himself transformed by just 3 minutes of listening).
4) God's presence is often ignored (most people (over 1000) passed by without pausing. Understandably, they all had to get to work and they didn't know they were in the presence of greatness).
3) When people start to notice God's presence, they inspire others. (One woman stopped because she recognized Bell. As she stood and watched, others naturally joined).

I first heard of this Bell concert at a conference. The speaker used it to point out that people no longer know how to recognize beauty. While that might be true, it strikes me as an unfair judgment. I think most people are just busy and stressed and too tired to notice the grace all around. We're a people in need of sabbath. So here are two final points:

2) Even in the craze of the days before Christmas, you do have time to stop and rest in God's presence.
1) Even if you don't take time to stop or notice, God is still there, playing on.

Wishing you peace and joy and a moment of obvious grace in these last days of Advent
- Pr Sarah

What's Advent smell like? (When are you most aware of God's presence?)

I'm excited and nervous for our worship service at 8:30 on Sunday.

The service will focus on the annunciation: the angel Gabriel appearing to Mary. The sermon and offertory will incorporate the congregation's responses to the question

"When are you most aware of God's presence?"

I've been collecting answers for a couple of weeks. Feel free to respond if you haven't already!

The answers have been varied and surprising. Each time I read a new one I feel as if I've just been given a precious gift.

We're going to use video clips during the sermon (including a clip from Angels in America, pictured here).

The offertory will include visual elements along with the music. We're using projection, but not as a replacement for the bulletin or just to project a power point slideshow.

We're doing it to give people a different way to engage in worship. A few artists in the congregation from the Savannah College of Art and Design are helping.

Our musician will play some music under some of the prayers in order to tie together the overall service. I'm not sure how these changes will be received but I am excited. I love this stuff.

I've been trying to figure out when I first got excited about innovation in worship. I trace it back to the influence of Siobhan Garrigan, the Dean of our Chapel in Divinity School. Daily worship was something of worship laboratory. We got to experiment with forms and language; song and silence. I learned about the multi-sensory tradition of worship. I also saw how tradition and innovation could go hand in hand.

So, what's with the orange slices?

One worship service that has never left me was an advent service that was creative and traditional. I recall nearly everything about it: rich purple and orange colors draped throughout the sanctuary; intimate lighting; music in minor keys; a sermon by John Hare about making the place you are a home.

I also remember the smell: orange. Orange oil and orange slices filled the air with a citrus scent. Is that why I can recall the rest of service so well?

When a variety of senses are engaged, you remember things better. If nothing else, I hope this Sunday's 8:30 service will help people remember that God appears in all sorts of ways - often right under our noses. I'm not sure we can pull off a scent this weekend. Maybe for epiphany? What scent would go with epiphany?

The orange slice painting is from artist Patti Mollica, found online using a search for "orange slices." I was really drawn to the painting and hope she doesn't mind the promo.

Creativity, courage and a confession

Here's a theme I keep noticing: the link between creativity and courage. Steve Jobs had it, yes. But he's not the most remarkable person who's been in the news lately.

Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah Gbowee, and Tawakkul Karman - the trinity of women who just won the Nobel Peace Prize - are much more interesting to me.

If you don't know their backgrounds, read them here. Gbowee encountered harsh opposition to the peace movement she began in Liberia. Sirleaf, and Karman each spent time in prison for following the courage of their convictions. Wangari Maathi, who until this year was the only African woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize, was also imprisoned. Sadly, she died weeks before this round of prize winners was announced. They all have remarkable courage. You don't get the Nobel Peace Prize without it.

They are also all creative people, and I don't mean creative in the limited meaning of being good at painting or singing, though they may be that as well.

They are creative in that they can imagine something different than what exists now. They imagined a different Liberia, a different Yemen, a different world. They are creative in the way that each of us, when we sense that things could be different, daydreams about a better world.

They are creative, but also courageous enough to make their visions a reality. The link between courage and creativity is apparent in the headscarf that Karman wears. She abandoned the full niqab for a variety of pink scarves so her face could show. Yes, I get tired of people commenting on powerful women's clothing, but so many people comment on her headscarves because they symbolize the change brought about by her courage and creativity.


A few years ago, Wangari Maathai was interviewed on Krista Tippet's Speaking of Faith. At the end of the interview, she sang a song. Listen to it here. The song was simple and powerful. The reason the song was powerful wasn't that her voice was trained, it was that she had courage to sing. She wasn't performing. She was creating with courage.

So here's a confession. When I graduated from Divinity School Wangari Maathai got an honorary doctorate from the same University. I hadn't heard of her and I am embarrassed about that. I didn't take a class with her. She'd been a visiting professor that year and I could have, but I had no idea. That's something I'll always regret. But those aren't my confession.

I happened to have a front row seat which meant that thousands of people were sitting behind me. As I read her biography in the program, I realized she was amazing and she dedicated her life to working on things that I care about deeply - justice for women and global environmentalism.

As she was introduced I felt somewhere inside me a call to stand up to applaud. We'd stood for Willie Mays as he got his honorary doctorate; surely this remarkable woman deserved the honor too.

I nearly stood, and because I was in the front row I think others would have followed. But I was chicken. I stayed seated. The moment passed. And we didn't give Wangari Maathai the standing ovation that she deserved. I didn't create a brief moment of honor because I didn't have the courage. Only a short while later, she received the Nobel Peace Prize and you can bet we would have all stood for her then.

Something about courage and creativity requires that we stick our necks out and take on the work of God in the world before it is recognized as popular. It's another reason why I am grateful to follow Jesus who models the combination of courage and creativity, showing us that it temporarily lands us in the worst places in the world - Yemeni prisons, exile, crosses - but also leads to peace.

Ramadan, Iftar and meeting our neighbors.

In early August, nine members of Prince of Peace took the Islamic Center of Maryland up on their offer to take part in an Iftar - the evening meal to break the daily Ramadan fast. We experienced generous hospitality. From the samoosas we were handed as we walked in, to guidance after the prayers, to the conversation during the meals, we were graciously made to feel at home. We wondered aloud if visitors feel this welcome when they come to Prince of Peace. We hope they do.

When we arrived, I had thrilling the sense of being somewhere foreign. The women spoke a variety of languages and were draped in richly woven silks and scarves. Though we were only ten miles from church, I felt like I was in a different country. We were surrounded by women from all over the world, brought together because of a common religious tradition. Some spoke no English; others spoke English as I do - the only language they really know. I couldn't assess the background of the individual women I met until we talked. That meant each encounter was new and surprising.

At mealtime, a couple of us from Prince of Peace sat down with two young adult women. Not sure of what kind of conversation would follow, I was delighted to find that these sisters were neighbors to our church and had gone to the high school down the block. One was a law student; the other a PhD student. We discovered a common interest in the meaning of fasting across religious traditions. I felt at ease asking questions about Muslim women and religious leadership. Our conversation was natural. The experience quickly morphed from feeling foreign to feeling familiar.

The very next day I was out walking with a college student catching up before she headed back to school. We passed one of the sisters on her jog. I hardly recognized her in the transformation from worship clothes to running clothes. We all stopped for a moment and chatted like neighbors. She is so...normal.

I sometimes get taken by surprise when I realize that I am among the religious. I mean, of course I know I am religious. But people unfamiliar with my tradition - and even those who are familiar - probably see me as different from them in a way I never think of myself.

I dress up in a fancy white robe and special clothes and lead rituals that must feel as foreign to some as the Iftar is to me. Yet I think of myself as normal, not as the odd one or the outsider. But of course in this neighborhood it is I - not those sisters - who is the foreigner. They've lived here for much longer.

Since we visited, so much has happened to change the world. Libyan rebels have gained power; the US economy has gone on free fall; The earth shifted under my feet in a historic east coast quake. And still, faithful Muslims around the world and in our neighborhoods are fasting and praying. I admire the faithfulness of that tradition. I have learned from it. And I am grateful to have been welcomed by my neighbors.

Food

Has it really been almost 2 months since I last posted? I have 4 half-written blogs: more about salvation; heaven and hell; canoeing& backpacking; and of course, Addie (my dog).

But today I'm going to write about food. I forgot to pick up a CSA (community supported agriculture) share for some parishioners on vacation. I felt sorry to have dropped my responsibility and more sorry to miss the veggies and fruits. But, I'm not going to lose sleep over it. Reason? I've got a full fridge. I'm in no danger of going hungry.

I love summer food and I've been cooking up a storm. Pork, corn and peaches on the grill; blueberry buttermilk pancakes; grilled squash, eggplant and red pepper; spinach-shrimp-basil pasta; BLTs with slices of tomato so thick you hardly need the bacon (except, of course, you need the bacon!).

So here's a disquieting experience: savoring a veggie breakfast omelet with melon and berries on the side while looking at online news pictures of starvation in Somalia.

My heartstrings are pulled by visions of people dying - 2000 a day is the current estimate. Moments later I am distracted: orange juice or lemonade to drink on a hot summer day? I have both at the ready. It is hard to square my abundance with the desperation of others.

The tomato picture is from our church's garden. I took it today. The garden is thriving.

Compare that to the picture of the meager food in the hands below. It comes from the ELCA website about the drought and famine. Here's the caption:


“This is the last of my food, a few beans. I used to grow food myself but there has been no rainfall in eight years, so now I have to buy all my food from the market. The prices keep going up. We only have enough food for one meal a day now, and that goes for all people in this area,” says Lucia Muvili Ngotho (pictured left) from the Kalimbui village in Mwingi, Kenya.Comparing the realities in the two pictures is disquieting. Something is not right.

Part of why I haven't written is that I've been in a general slump of life. Slumps happen. I generally don't think it's helpful to compare your problems to other people with "real problems" in an effort to feel better. Problems aren't proportional and you can get yourself into a dither of guilt by comparing.

But a little perspective can be sobering. As the old saying goes: I complained about not having shoes until I met a man with no feet.

This sign is part of the Gaithersburg HELP educational materials. Last Saturday some people play I frisbee with threw their support behind Gaithersburg HELP by having a Fannie Mae mini-"walk." As I was hammering the sign into the ground, I was struck by its message. Humbled.

Having the kind of problems I have is only possible because of the kind of problems I don't have. There are people in the world who would weep with joy to have 1/10 of the food I have in my fridge and would consider their problems solved if they could turn on water from their kitchen.

That disquieting feeling? I've come to recognize it as the seeds of a calling. Though the disaster in East Africa is beyond proportions we ever face, hunger exists in my own zip code. I know I wasn't alone last Saturday in feeling good that at least I was able to do something active to respond to the disquieting reality that so many people are hungry.

If you want to find out more about Gaithersburg HELP or Fannie Mae's walks for the homeless, including how to sponsor a mini-walk/run/game/etc, let me know. And if you want to donate to the Lutheran efforts to help the famine, click here.

Also, the Gazette covered our frisbee game. Check out the article here.

Salvation, part 2

Hi - what a good conversation we started here. Thank you to all who responded to my last post either in person, email, or publicly on the blog.

At the extremes, there are two different approaches to the "who is saved" question. These approaches intersect in various forms throughout Christian doctrines and the Biblical witnesses (plural - as with most of our big questions, the Bible gives us critical guidance but doesn't give an easy, consistent answer). Different traditions have worked this out in doctrines and practices as varied as double predestination, universalism, forced baptisms or complex tracing of ancestry to save your relatives in past generations. It is a sticky, difficult question.

Here are the two poles, as I see them.

1) Something you do clinches your spot in heaven. At the extreme, this means that you must act in a way consistent with Jesus calling in order to go to heaven. This shows up all over: Be a good person, follow the way of Jesus, get yourself baptized, join a church, take communion, seek out forgiveness and absolution, have faith, serve people, give your money away. Gandhi is often lifted up as a non-Christian who it's hard to imagine in hell because he was such an exemplar of human goodness. There are a variety of actions that fall under this category and there is wide debate about what it is that you have to do to be saved. Residue of this exists in most people's faith consciousness and it can inspire fear for people who ask the question: Am I good enough to be saved?

2) God alone has power over your salvation. The extreme of this approach says it doesn't matter what you do, God will (or won't) save you. Based on this approach, people might argue that Gandhi is in heaven because God's grace would expand to include someone who grew up without the same opportunity to grow in faith as those of us marinated in Christianity. This also covers the vast numbers of people who grew up in the faith but for some reason or another couldn't, with integrity, come to believe. There are an awful lot of people out there who wish they had faith, but just don't and can't force it. The "God's grace is huge" approach doesn't hold those people responsible for not being given the gift of faith.

This is, I think, where people like Rob Bell end up. God is too loving, too gracious, too expansive in mercy to let anyone live eternally separated from God's love. God's power ultimately wins out.

The classic Lutheran (pauline) formulation is saved by grace through faith. This thread is found most clearly in Romans. Grace is the free gift from God, but faith matters because through faith you claim the grace that has already been offered.

Importantly, in Romans, Paul contrasts "faith" with Jewish heritage, not with lack of religiosity altogether. He's arguing that non-Jewish people with faith in Jesus are part of salvation history. As far as I can tell, he isn't exactly addressing the question we are. Someone who is a Biblical scholar, please correct me if I'm wrong on this.

There is always the risk of turning faith into a human work instead of a gift from God and Lutherans work hard to make sure they don't turn faith into a litmus test for salvation. But there is, as one blog comment noted, a wide gray area on this.

Luther is more nuanced on salvation many people give him credit for. Martin Marty interprets Luther in the chapter "Will non-Christians be saved" from book"Lutheran Questions, Lutheran Answers":

God is hidden. Then God is also revealed. Luther says that even when revealed, God remains hidden: who would look for God in the bread and wine of Communion, the water of baptism, smudged ink in a Bible...The startling thing confronts his readers when Luther goes on to say that God is hidden not only in revelation but behind revelation. This is a way of saying that God is God and we are not; the mind of God is other than the human mind; the treasures of wisdom of God are vast, boundless and ours are small and spare and sparse...Our decisions have to be based on the knowledge we have: to share the word of grace, to take the commands of God seriously, to relish and be joyful about the word of salvation that we have received. The rest we leave up to God.

The key concept here is humility in the face of God's grace and the mysterious mechanisms of salvation. Opening up the possibility of salvation to non-Christians doesn't need to threaten the faith of Christians who are convinced, because of our encounters with the living God, that Jesus is the saviour of the world. Could it be that God is hidden not only in bread and wine, but also the non-Christian neighbors we've come to love?

More thoughts??