spiritual formation Archives - Page 14 of 28 - Lisa Colón DeLay

Spiritual Formation is NOT cool

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?

Death of Pet (Nathan encounters mortality/separation, video)

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (4.5MB)

deadfish — Engaging mortality (pet dies) 47 sec video.

Here is another (short) installment in exploring the theology of disability and the spiritual growth/development of my autistic son, Nathan (age 11) who has recently claimed that he doesn’t not believe in God (see previous posts).

Part of the spiritual formation process involves engagement with mortality; and so it does for Nathan too. The two fish Nathan caught at the lake recently died in captivity yesterday. He found this very sad. His approach to their passing was very simplistic. They stopped moving, so they are dead. As expected, he wasn’t able to delve into abstract thoughts on this, or death and life, but yet he still understood something profound had happened (see video). Something sort of normal, yet broken about the world seemed real to him. This world is a place were we can be separated from things we care about, in this case, creatures/pets.

On his own, Nathan expressed that he wanted to bury them. This seemed proper to him. The “burial at sea” choice, a.k.a. flushing his two fish friends, seemed unseemly, when I mentioned that some people bury their fish this way.

He took the jar to the garden and added the remains there himself. It was his own idea. Today he said, “[It would] provide nutrients [to the garden]”. He got a bit of a chance to learn that everything dies. I refrained from singing Elton John’s The Circle of Life song from the Lion King. But, it was a “circle of life moment” for sure. Sort of strange and sad and bewildering, yet part of regular life.

A little bit after he buried them, I told him that in heaven we can be with people who have died; people that we miss, and we won’t be separated from them forever. That’s our hope and it can help us to not be as sad. He didn’t seem to be interested, and I didn’t go into it any further. This event may soon open doors for fuller dialogue about life/existence, and the ways of life and death. And I hope redemption!

His sentiment, in general, seemed properly child-like as well as very pragmatic. It will be interesting to hear how he describes the fish, and their death to his sister after we pick her up from camp soon.

Please share your comments or ideas about this.
Question for reflection or comment. How has the death of pets shaped your spiritual formation, or those of your children?

What are your suggestions for guiding others into greater spiritual maturity with this topic at hand?

OH! one more thing. Don’t miss that really interesting look at grief through the primary lens of separation anxiety, here.

Sudden Onset Juvenile Atheism -Part I

In a strange turn of events over the last few months, my 11 year old son, Nathan has turned into an avowed atheist. I’ll be exploring his spiritual journey, his thoughts, and the theology of disability (Nathan is autistic) for a little while.

I’d love to have your input. Any thoughts, experiences, or stories you’d like to share are encouraged.

-Lisa

Pilgrim’s Progress & Liberace

My mom read Pilgrim’s Progress (in updated language) to us as kids. I liked it. It captivated me. Some of John Bunyan’s Christian devotional classic has also brought me spiritual comfort in recent times, as well.

But, each time I read it, I can’t help but thinking Mr Bunyan is beating me out of my senses with such heavy-handed allegory. Like the Liberace of Christian standards, Bunyan’s book says, “Helllllllooooooooooooo! I’m AN ALLEGORYYYYYYYY! I’m TELLING YOU SOMETHING!””

Do you feel this way about Pilgrim’s Progress?
If you haven’t, read it, or listen to it here for free, and tell me what you like or don’t like about it.

And brighten your day by enjoying this fun 1980s Liberace Video
(You can tell he’s making fun of himself, and you have to love that sense of humor.)
.

Featured Writer: Dr Doug Jackson on Trinity Sunday

I wanted to feature this fine Sermoneutics article because I’ll be bringing the concept of Trinity to my class this Sunday.

Sermoneutics is a weekly column authored by Doug Jackson. Before coming to South Texas School of Christian Studies, Dr. Jackson pastored churches for nearly twenty-five years. For more from Doug Jackson, check out his blog at djackson.stscs.org.
Click here for the Sermoneutics archive.

by Doug Jackson
Trinity Sunday,
2 Corinthians 13.11-14

The good news is that the Western church has conspired to disobey the clear command of Scripture. The bad news is that our disobedience obscures our doctrine.

Augustine warned that anyone who disbelieves the Trinity is in danger of losing his salvation . . . and that anyone who attempts to understand it is in danger of losing his mind! Actually the Trinity is one of those things, like fried crawdad tails or dancing or being in love, that one understands not by pondering but by experiencing.

“We worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance.” Athanasius puts it rather neatly but perhaps leaves us wondering how to pull off the tricky business of inhabiting what we believe. The doctrine makes us psychological heretics whose nerves don’t connect with our confession.

Paul takes a more practical tack, perhaps because he writes as a pastor and not as a theologian. Just before rapping out one of the clearest Trinitarian statements in all of Scripture, he lays a command on us: Greet one another with a holy kiss. That’s the injunction I am so glad the Church exiles to the exegetical antipodes along with head coverings for women and not boiling a kid in its mother’s milk.

I don’t like it when people hug me; you can imagine how I feel about kissing. And I claim apostolic authority on this one: C. S. Lewis shared my aversion. “It is one of my lifelong weaknesses,” he writes in his autobiography Surprised By Joy, “that I never could endure the embrace or kiss of my own sex.” But there it is, right in the Bible and everything.

See, the problem is that the Trinity states, not an abstract mathematical puzzle but a common-sense relational truth: God is love, and either the Almighty is the ultimate cosmic narcissist eternally self-involved, or God has eternally had Someone to love. And since only God is eternal it must be that the Father has eternally loved the Son, the Son has eternally loved the Father and the Spirit has eternally been that love. And therefore Christians can only study the Trinity by risking the sloppy business of loving one another. And because God makes us bodies we can only love with our bodies. Every hug that breeches my barriers brings me closer to inhabiting the unity of Trinity. Amplexo ergo creedo: I hug, therefore I get it.

In this light, it is interesting to note that this year Trinity Sunday falls on the same day as Juneteenth, a nationwide observance for African-Americans commemorating the day the Emancipation Proclamation actually took effect. Perhaps instead of breaking our brains over the complexities of cosmic calculus, we could study the Trinity by repenting of past segregations and handing out a few hugs across the barriers we have built throughout Christ’s body.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,

-Doug

Collect

Father, Son and Holy Spirit, You are love from all eternity. Make us one as You are one, that in us the world may see the grace, love and fellowship of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Benediction

May you be broken enough to help one another,
For wholeness comes from healing.
May you disagree enough to hear one another
For oneness comes from listening.
May you be lonely enough to hold one another
For touch defeats division and discord.
In the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ,
The love of God,
And the fellowship of the Holy Spirit,
Amen.