On the day of the Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School shootings in Florida, the immediate reaction of politicians (and others) was something to the effect of, “We send them our thoughts and prayers.” And the responses to this, even among religious communities, was a loud rejection of that as the only response. I agree with those who condemned the pious, meaningless response.
However, in the wake of all this violence in our society, is there a place for a spiritual response? Are prayers simply empty entreaties to a non-existent entity? Does spirituality matter in this insane world?
I have written before about how the Civil Rights movement leaders expected both spirituality AND action from those involved in demonstrations and other civil disobedience. The two are interconnected. Without spirituality, all we have is good works that are tied to nothing but the immediate action. When nothing changes immediately, we can easily think, “We failed,” and give up. Without action, spirituality can be nothing but staring at our eyelids, hiding from the world.
Meaningful action is undergirded by a worldview that goes beyond the immediate moment. Spirituality connects meaningful action to the whole of what is happening in the universe. My little action here might appear to have failed, but having a deep spiritual undergirding to my action means that I may not actually see what is happening as a result of my action. I am able to be patient. Seeds take time to germinate, to grow a plant, to create a flower or food.
In the short run, things may not change. But knowing that deep change is a slow-moving stream (which I learn only by sitting still, being quiet, and connecting to the whole, to God) gives me patience and strength and even excitement to see what will result from my attempts. It also connects me to others who are likewise engaged. We are not alone.
We pray, then we do, then we pray, then we do some more. I mean, just look at Jesus: he failed so miserably, if we measure his short life by what happened while he was alive. We, his followers, are not perfect, but there’s a lot of good that has happened in the world to this day (and I don’t ignore the bad that Christianity has committed in his name) that might not have happened if not for him: some of the hungry are fed, some are clothed, some are housed, some of the sick are visited, some prisoners are set free. The fact that we have not been completely successful does not deter us from continuing to work to save the environment in spite of setbacks, to preach peace in spite of the love of violence of this world, to try to love the world that God loves in the ways that God loves it.
Yeah, I do think spirituality not only matters, but is vital to the life of anyone who wants to make a difference in good ways in the world. What kind of spirituality? One that insists not on its own way, but on a way of love, the way of God.
About jamiebrame
Greetings, fellow earthlings. I'm the retired Program Director at Christmount, the national retreat, camp, and conference center of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), in Black Mountain, NC. From September 2019 through October, 2020, I served Timberlake Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Lynchburg, VA, as interim minister. After taking more than a year off, First Christian Church (DoC), Wilson, NC, offered me the position of Interim Minister, beginning May 10, 2022.
Originally from Eden, NC, I graduated from John Motley Morehead High School, earned a BA in Religion and Philosophy at Atlantic Christian College (now Barton College), and eked out a Master of Divinity from the Divinity School at Duke University. I served, in various positions, churches (part time and full time) in North Carolina and Georgia, and have lived in Black Mountain, NC, since 1989. I married Renae in 1992 (she refers to these years as "looooooooooong" years.
I've spent the past 50 years or so trying to practice Christian contemplative prayer with some touches of Zen meditation to help the journey along. Married to a wife who is much holier than I am, I am fortunate to learn from her daily about how to do this thing called spirituality. Being an ordained minister doesn't make me holy (but occasionally, as you'll read, a little sanctimonious, so forgive me in advance!); but I hope that I put my education to good use.
I'd love to be considered a spiritual teacher, but I know myself too well to claim that. While I do a bit of teaching, I think the best teaching we do is when we remain silent (the old desert abba said something like, "if you won't learn from my silence, you won't learn from my talking"). But silence shouldn't turn into quietism, and we do have to speak out and act for justice and fairness and equality for all.
I frequently ask myself the question, "Does it matter?" about the major - and minor - issues of the day. What I think matters: love for God, equality, fairness, loving our neighbor, feeding hungry people, housing homeless ones, clothing naked ones, and especially caring for children; basically, caring for those who have some trouble caring for themselves. AND our relationship with God.
What doesn't matter: what you think of me. I'm not very Christ-like. You won't hear me talking about all the things I do for others, or all the things I do for God - I was taught that It's not about me, and using good works to get attention for myself isn't what Christian faith is about - look up "narcissism" on Google. I'm not sure Jesus thinks it matters much that I am like him or not, but I do. The old story from the rabbis is probably apropo: when I am hauled up before God at the end of time, God isn't going to ask me why I wasn't more like someone else: I will be asked why I wasn't more like me. The rabbis tell the story better.
I'm still a work in progress, as Renae will attest to.
Finally, I just hope that something you read here will make you think. Use what you can, ignore the rest. Go read some of the desert saints. Read the classics. Take care of people, never point to yourself, and don't follow me: I'm just hoping to be one more signpost to God.
And as one friend reminded me the week before I left Christmount, "It matters."
Oh, and my favorite color is probably blue, and I love cats, and I love my wife's music. I don't like beets.
Does It Matter 