Author: lakewooducc

I am a great one for reading, especially fiction. I am almost always immersed in a good novel. I just finished Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Recently I faced an interesting challenge in my personal life. It was something that I had not dealt with before. I was considering what approach to take to the unfamiliar situation. Suddenly, I knew exactly what to do. The course of action was perfectly clear. AND I knew that this solution came from a novel I had read recently. The character was in a certain situation and responded. That response was perfect for what I was facing.

It is seldom that I see such a direct connection between fiction and my choices in life. However, I have always maintained that good fiction is good for us. If I were an English teacher, I could give you an articulate explanation about why that is so. Since I am not an English teacher, I just trust what I know from my experience. Fiction helps you live your life, it helps you understand yourself and teaches you about the world. So, give me a good novel any time!

As I contemplated the wonderful solution that I appropriated from the novel, I thought about the importance of fiction. And that led me to think about the Bible. As scripture, the Bible is important to our faith and tradition. The Bible contains many different kinds of literature. The Bible tells us much about ancient times. The Bible helps us understand one people’s experience of God in its various manifestations. But when it comes down to it, we really don’t know and can’t know about the factuality of most of the Bible. If there were security cameras in Galilee and Jerusalem over 2000 years ago, we might be able to factually verify some things. But that is not a possibility. So when it comes to the factuality of the Bible, for the most part, we don’t know.

Does the lack of empirical verification of the stories and writings of the Bible mean that they are of no value? That they are of no worth? That they don’t matter? That they can’t be trusted? Of course not. In fact, maybe the most important things we need to know and understand can’t be contained in nonfiction writing, but have to conveyed in fiction. [Does Salman Rushdie think this?] In any case, I love, value, and appreciate literature and specifically fictional literature. In light of that, I can say that whether or not the Bible is fact, I love, value and appreciate it. The Bible has many truths to tell. It enhances our understanding of ourselves, humanity, and life. It is filled with timeless insight and wisdom. It shows us the best and the worst of human behavior and how to navigate the waters between the two. The Bible gives me hope.

For me, to think of the Bible as fiction in no way devalues or demeans this sacred text. In fact, it adds to my trust and reverence for the Bible.

Prayer: God’s word comes to us in many ways. From the lips of a loved one. In the song of a stranger. In the cry of a baby. In the chirping of birds and in the beauty of the natural world. We can also hear God speaking in literature. In fiction. And in non-fiction. May we be open to the God’s word; hungry for wisdom, self understanding, and peace. Amen.

In the last devotion we talked about the “terminal malaise of abundance,” a phrase from the book Generosity: An Enhancement by Richard Powers. In that reflection, we mentioned all the activities and commitments that can drain life away, rather than enhancing it.

Today as we think about the “terminal malaise of abundance” we consider another kind of abundance. This time, not material possessions or time commitments, but “baggage.” Emotional and psychic baggage.

Our baggage can come from past experiences. Something didn’t go well once and we have steered clear ever since. Maybe our baggage consists of abuse – emotional, physical, or sexual – memories of which are always with us. Maybe our baggage involves attitudes inherited from our family or upbringing which no longer have a place in today’s world. Maybe our baggage includes messages that we got in childhood or at other times in life, negative, critical messages from which we have never recovered. Maybe our baggage is related to body image, or education level, or income status. Maybe our baggage comes from a relationship that ended badly. Maybe we are carrying around an abundance of messages, images, attitudes, and perspectives that we no longer need. Or which are having a detrimental effect on our lives. Maybe we are being drained by the effort that it takes to maintain this baggage. Perhaps we suffer from another version of the “terminal malaise of abundance.”

Whatever is draining us, stultifying our lives, preventing our freedom, weighing us down, holding us back, God is seeking to remove it. God desires to lighten our load. God wants us to flourish and thrive. Be careful of abundance. It could kill you.

Prayer: We pray that we are released from the damaging baggage that prevents us from being whole. We seek to lay our baggage down and be relieved of the burden. Turning aside from our baggage, may we live, truly live, with passion. Amen.

Lent is a season in which people typically give something up. Have you given up something for Lent this year? Have you practiced that spiritual discipline in the past? What have you given up? How has that gone for you? Is it hard? Did the time pass quickly? What was it like when Lent was over and you went back to “normal”? At church we have talked about how we have given up the word “alleluia” for Lent in anticipation of the glorious “alleluias” on Easter Sunday. There are many benefits to this Lenten discipline.

Even when we give something up, we may still find that our lives are incredibly full: Full of obligations and commitments. Full of people to keep up with. Full of material possessions that need to be tended to and maintained. In fact, for many of us, life is too full. And maybe too full of that which does not satisfy.

This past summer when we walked the 500 mile Camino de Santiago de Compostela, it was surprising how little we actually needed. Even pared down to the bare bones, we still had things with us, that we carried for 500 miles, that we did not use. We were still too full. And we saw the freedom and liberation in having only what was needed. One set of clothes on the body and one clean set in the pack. One set of clothes on the body and one set on the laundry line. Two sets of clothes. That was it. My husband, Jeff, and I have talked about how we miss the simplicity of the Camino. Very few material things, a pared back itinerary of activity – get up, eat, walk, do laundry, eat, sleep. That was the basic flow. Uncomplicated. A relief, actually.

I am listening to the novel Generosity: An Enhancement by Richard Powers. When I saw it in the library, I thought it was non fiction and that there would be insight into giving and service; ideas that would help me with increasing stewardship and giving at church. After listening to about half an hour of the book and waiting for something to indicate what I had expected, I looked at the box of cds and saw that it is fiction. As it turns out it is a very interesting novel, so far. The main character is teaching a writing course at an art college. He gives the students an assignment: “Convince someone that they wouldn’t want to grow up in your hometown.” The teacher “reads about all the top hazards, tedium chief among them. . . close behind comes isolation, bigotry, aimlessness, crushing homogeny, commercial blight, crimes against every known aesthetic, and the terminal malaise of abundance.” [p. 27] That last phrase caught me. “The terminal malaise of abundance.” All of our stuff – our commitments, activities, belongings, interests – can simply numb us and make us apathetic. It can kill us.

The antidote to this kind of demise can be found in Christianity. We are taught to live materially simple lives. “Consider the lily. . .” And to center our lives on worship, prayer, and service. We are to devote ourselves to creativity and community. To justice and peace. When we follow this path, we steer clear of the “terminal malaise of abundance.” Following the way of Jesus, we also avoid the tedium, isolation, bigotry, aimlessness, and crushing homogeny pointed out by Powers in Generosity.

Giving up something for Lent may be a warm up, a test drive, a rehearsal, for a more thorough giving up that saves us from the “malaise of abundance.” May your Lent be life-giving.

Prayer: We pray for discernment to know what is essential in life. With trust in God, may we dare to divest ourselves of all that saps us of life. May we invest ourselves in relationships and service which change us and the world. Amen.

What truly makes us happy? There are all kinds of studies of happiness and there are many new books about happiness. What does it mean to be happy? Are you happy?

In the book, Black Girl, White Girl, Joyce Carol Oates comments, “Between happiness and duty, I choose duty.” [p. 268] I choose duty. Does that mean that you can’t be happy? Is it one or the other?

Frankly, I think of duty as obligation, as doing what is right. Fulfilling expectations and responsibilities. Duty is something that we do for others, typically, not ourselves. Duty is holding up our end of a relationship.

In Christianity we teach that our highest good is found in service. We celebrate our call to serve others, to live compassion and generosity. The life of Jesus is a study in helping others, living for others, and serving others. That is our calling.

When we think about happiness and duty, I am wondering if we can be happy if we are not fulfilling our duty? When I am neglecting my duty, am I happy? Or am I haunted by regret? I think as Christians we must fulfill our duty to be happy. It is not either/or. It is if/then. If we are fulfilling our duty then we will be happy. Thus we will also fulfill our duty to be happy in Christ Jesus. So, choose happiness. Fulfill your duty.

Prayer: We pray that we would fulfill our duty as Christians; our duty to serve, to give, to love, to forgive. When we pursue this other-centered living, we find our highest good. We experience happiness. May we allow our faith to make us truly happy. Amen.

In the last devotion, we discussed being judgmental; the burden of judging and its adverse effects. This quote continues that theme:

“I tell you one thing – if you want peace of mind do not find fault with others. Rather learn to see your own faults.”
Sri Sarada Devi, The Holy Mother of the Ramakrishna Order, Hindu

I’ll come clean here. I think I am much more adept at assessing the shortcomings of others than my own. I am sure that my family members would agree! It is easier to see what others are doing wrong, or could be doing differently (subtext, “better”), or how they could improve. As long as my assessments are of others, that is energy and reflection that I am not directing toward myself. And can I change others? No. But I can actually take responsibility for growing and learning and changing myself.

So, when it comes to judging, applying our efforts toward ourselves has the potential to have a positive effect, helping us become more fully ourselves, more fully whole. But judging others can waste our time, bring out the worst in us, and damage our relationships. Our Christian tradition teaches us to let go of judging others and take responsibility for ourselves.

Prayer: As we journey through this Lenten season, we seek to know ourselves more fully. We seek to engage in spiritual reflection in ways that will nurture our souls and help us grow in the spirit of Christ. May we be very careful about judging and the negative effects it can have. May we also have the courage to be fiercely honest with ourselves. Amen.