Lisa Colón DeLay

This quote was on Doug McFall’s facebook status on July 11th.

‎”Spiritual formation isn’t like a quickly spreading fire; it’s like a tree with deeply descending roots, establishing a foundation for future growth and fruitfulness. Through the disciplines each one of us becomes a fruitful tree, a place for birds to nest, a resting place for others. So God uses our lives to bear quiet but abundant fruit.” ~Joshua Choonmin Kang

It seemed incredibly true. Like, the truth hurts, kind of true. What hits me the hardest is the season of growth mentioned. It. takes. so. long. It’s not Wifi fast and connected. It’s not even telegraph level. It’s watch the grass grow slow.

I spent almost 4 years in graduate school studying Spiritual Formation. As a theological conservative, Evangelical female, I probably couldn’t have made a more costly and career-limiting move. For instance, in half the time, I could have become a physician’s assistant and pulled in $120K a year. BOOM.

I have no aspirations to pastor a church, and paid leadership roles or positions are more rare “for my kind” than Squirrels at Bikini Bottom, under the sea. No, wait, a polkadot unicorn…under the sea…and wearing a business suit.

I’ll get my money back out of my investment…that is if I live to be 346 years old.

Besides all that $ and education stuff. Spiritual Formation is an extremely slow process. So slow, and messy, in fact, that I would venture that it is basically unAmerican. It doesn’t have a formula for quick multiplication of adherents, (so it won’t make maga-churches or bring in the greenback$) and it…get this… takes work. DOWNER!

To become a disciplined (trained) and a more mature follower of God, takes, well discipline. What is more uncool than that?

So, why bother? I must be such a fool.
But there is a great reason I sum up in one word: transformation.

Not the jackpot you thought?

God’s Holy Spirit really and truly transforms us. It’s a joy to see it, and be a part of it. I have to give up most of what I thought I could achieve to pick this path. But, it’s funny, or maybe even more foolish, but I just trust God about it. And that’s is exactly why I know a concentrated effort and a willing heart can lead to a richer love of God, and a fuller understanding of who he is. You see, I wouldn’t have felt this way 4 years ago. It’s been an active grace of God toward me. I would have been worried. I would have been more self-seeking. I have a long way to go and grow, but I see God’s amazing love. I see his work in this world, and I see it ( at least somewhat) in and through me, in ways I would have missed. I know I am more available to love others and care for them and their souls. (whole-being….care of soul)

Still, these are not cool qualities. At. All. Spiritual Formation, if it could ever be trendy, would fade out of vogue, much faster than silly bands. In a small sense, I think I can relate to the disabled community for these reasons. It makes the study of disability that much more interesting I think. There is something worthwhile in choosing “disability” so to speak (a weaker or lesser role, a susceptible path).

In this spot I think I’m set up to be more dependent and vulnerable. I don’t have clout. Few people listen to what I say. It’s a pilgrim’s way, and it can be lonely at times, because the vision I have doesn’t seem very shinny or sparkly. It doesn’t seem to have a primo payoff. It’s not glamorous. Quite the opposite. It’s not even upwardly mobile, and in plenty of suburban and rural areas, this isn’t just UNcool, it’s near-scandalous. The rewards don’t come instantly, and plenty of times they don’t come at all.

I’m getting better acquainted with my thorough uncoolness. Strangely, there is a slight but real hope that comes with that. And it feels like I’m wearing new shoes.

Have you somehow chosen the uncool, plain, or “lesser” way? (perhaps in your pursuits, your career, your role, your authority, etc)

Thoughts? Comments? Responses?

Excerpt from my Book Review Paper of – “Vulnerable Communion: A Theology of Disability and Hospitality”  -by Thomas E. Reynolds

copyright Lisa Colón DeLay © 2010

Caring Stops at Fear

To put it bluntly, the problem lies in the fact that what we hate and fear is personified in a disable person. What we grieve and pity on a grander scale about human existence can be seen in the disabled. What we dread about ourselves, or how the broken world can be, takes on fleshly form, right in front of us, in the acute helplessness of the disabled one.

On a gut level, we realize at some point we too may be helpless and dependent. It seems frightening. We feel weak, inferior, and can be dreadfully aware of our imperfections. We resent being reminded of it. We also fear that grace will not abound for us in these cases. Consequently, we hope the subject does not come up, or that the disabled stay a bit out of view. Disabilities are variations of the vulnerable life that God has given us. They are too, the life he lived out, in human form. It seems a most basic dilemma of human existence is whether there is welcome when it is most needed. Can we can find a safe place to abide, and be with others who recognize us, value us, and empower us to become our best selves. We remain insecure.

Interdependence

Reynolds asserts that the Christian story is, and has been, one of strength coming from weakness, of wholeness emerging from brokenness, and of growth budding from vulnerability. This comes by the grace and almighty power of God. As able-bodied people, we underestimate our need. We admire, idolize, and pursue independence, on all levels.

In contrast, the common good is not achieved unilaterally (individually), or selfishly. The disabled understand experientially what the able-bodied can only know partially, and, by in large, theoretically: we need relationships in order to exist. As we embrace our vulnerability and mature to depend on other, we become more fully human. Weakness, in the interdependence played out as servant host and guest, gives us the privilege of reliance, vulnerability, and the opportunity to pursue abundant life together. It is part of how we develop in trust and faith.

Reynolds delves into theological issues, related to Trinitarian theology. They are discussed in terms of God and his creation, Jesus’ redemption and interaction with humanity, and the Spirit in the context of the Spirit-filled church living as a vulnerable inclusive communion in the redemptive kingdom of God.

Your comments and ideas are encouraged. Please post them.

Nathan, like many who experience Autism, often doesn't like having his picture taken. (Later, he saw this photo, and thought it was funny.)

Currently I am taking a rather fascinating class delving into the topic of God and Suffering, called “The Theology of Suffering.” For my final project, I am taking on a specific topic under that category–Disability.

I’m endeavoring to uncover questions like, “Why does God allow children, and adults, to suffer with disabilities?” “Is disability part of God’s plan, or part of what’s broken and wrong in the world?” “What place do the “disabled” have in “God’s Story”?” “How can care-givers of those with disabilities view this type of suffering in light of what God has done, what he is doing, and what he will do?” And some other questions.

In 2001, when my son started to struggle with a rather severe case of regressive autism, I wondered not just what was going on with him, but why? What was the point? I have to say, it all seemed like a mistake. My faith was shaken; not because I thought I should be able to have the child of my dreams, (this was a sad part of it too,) but because seeing my child suffer so badly made me question what God was really like. After a period of grieving, I had to find out more.

Nathan made a paper Nativity set at Christmas

Our son went from meeting all his developmental milestones ahead of time (rolling over, sitting, walking, talking), to not even answering to his own name for days on end, not reacting to pain in any normal way, not speaking to us, and not even calling us “Mommy” and “Daddy” any longer. I didn’t know where to turn, on many levels, and I wondered why God would want to kill me by breaking my heart, day-by-day, as my son sank into frustration, fear, pain, and despair. At times I felt hopeless.

We don’t live near family, and I’d like to say our church, and other Christians, were helpful, but almost no one reached out in any way that was truly or consistently supportive, or meaningful. Experiencing disability and struggle has a way of isolating us, and creating more hopelessness to wade through.

Instead, the opposite can be true. The disabled have much to teach us about hospitality, a characteristic of God, both individually and as a community.

The primary text I’m reading for my research is Vulnerable Communion: A Theology of Disability and Hospitality by Thomas E. Reynolds. What an interesting book!

Vulnerable Communion: A Theology of Disability and Hospitality -Thomas E. Reynolds

Here are a few nuggets I’ve gathered:

• The “disabled” are a picture of human weakness and vulnerability, from which we can learn about the human condition, and God himself. They teach us about the goal of Reliance, versus our misguided and typical goal of “independence.”

• These people are at the center of God’s love, and made in God’s image, they display attributes of God. They help us to see the true nature of God–One who made himself weaker and vulnerable, and still is vulnerable to us. (This vulnerability is epitomized in the historical event, and saving action of Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross at Calvary.)

• The “disabled” give us the opportunity to learn, practice, and experience hospitality, and “do for God” (Matt: 25:40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!”)

This is a topic close to my heart. Uncovering more about it has helped me to not just understand my son, and his struggles better, but to understand God, his character, and his intentions.

Now I’m wondering, “Is it time to write a book on this?”

Please leave your thoughts on this topic, or comment in any way.

May God bless your heart,

Lisa