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Intimate Connections
by Mark Nilson
It seems to me that a “spiritual practice” is any dreaming, doing or being into which we have dared to read the sacred. (The operative word being “dared.”)
I find an Interior Design book lying open on the floor by the couch with an afghan rumpled up by it. These are not remnants of a reading like you would read a refrigerator owner’s manual trying to figure out how the icemaker can be shut off. Because I know Robin (my wife) and her love for beauty and the aesthetic, these are treasured and honed tools of a spiritual practice. In the same way, mowing the lawn, edging the garden, raking the leaves and cultivating the soil so it looks just right becomes a predictable arterial to God for my soul.
Such practices put me back into life saving rhythms where there is a pretty good chance I might meet up with the Spirit; mind cleared, soul finally un-tethered from the docks of frenzied urban life – I’m ready. The key to both these practices is “wholeness.” They each bring one’s spiritual house into “rightness”, an “at home-ness.” Frequently, for me, it causes a radical reorientation, the result of which is “wholeness.”
Courage and Energy
The trick for me and my “spiritual practices” mostly involves courage. Several years ago I was in a seminar with Walter Brueggemann, the passionate Old Testament teacher who is quoted far too often in preacher circles. Brueggemann was working up his usual sweat when he landed on these words, “We do not need more information. What we need is courage and energy.” I heard those words maybe ten years ago but they are, for me, as true today as they were in that classroom.
Frequently, when listening to others (one of the true privileges of pastoral ministry) I find people (myself included) reluctant to own our own unique spiritual practices. Somewhere along the line we bought in a harsh, critical voice that greatly narrowed the official list of approved spiritual practices. The courage comes in claiming our own means to God, our own authentic practices that bring us closer to God and the Holy. Frequently, these practices will have little “cash value” on the open market. But whose house is it anyway?
Right With God
If you are one who follows the liturgical year in all of its colors and callings, you might remember reading, not long ago, a passage from David’s life found in 2 Samuel 23. The text tells us these are some of the last words uttered from David’s mouth. Whether that is true or not I don’t know but I have images of his attendants running around carefully capturing the words and scribbling them down on note paper. At about the 5th verse, David speaks of his house and being “right” with God. Each time I read the verse a tape starts and asks me about my own house and whether or not I am “right” with God. The voice is not harsh or judgmental like that of an ill-meaning preacher but gentle and nurturing as if it has my own well being in mind. Above all it is an invitation to wholeness, a “rightness” with creation and the creator.
When asked to write about “spiritual practices” I am aware of the precarious ground around my feet. There are few places that are more intimate and protected then our own connections with the holy. So I have learned, through painful experience, to walk respectfully and gently when entering another’s spiritual yard. I have splashed and stomped on many a friend’s spiritual dirt without realizing its treasured value.
Today I’m reading new texts to a new season and a new year. Just think, a whole new year to mow the lawn, edge the gardens, rake the leaves and listen to God. I can’t wait.
For Small Group Discussion:
1. What ordinary activity puts you in touch with God?
2. What “regular practice” refuels your zest for life?
3. How do you connect with others on your spiritual path?
Mark Nilson is enjoying a second year as Sr. Pastor of First Covenant Church, Seattle WA. His wife Robin works at Seattle Design Center. Together they have two sons: Aaron, studying history in Chicago, and Chase, loving life as an eighth grader at home.
