Wednesday, September 5, 2007 at 1:01am
'Bending against the curve'
Column: New Houses from Old Bricks
Persistence and discipline have never been my strong suits. My childhood piano teacher can vouch for that: I was determined to be perfect, but without practicing.
From those not-exactly-humble beginnings, somehow I've ended up in ministry pondering and teaching Christian formation, which is all about practice and not at all about perfection. On my cynical days, I wonder why on earth anyone would undertake something that involves so much persistence and discipline, without any promise whatsoever of eventual accomplishment or flawlessness.
In recent months, efforts to reshape my crooked back have given me a new understanding of formation. Those efforts, too, require much persistence and promise no perfection. The widely accepted medical wisdom has been that scoliosis can't be corrected without surgery. Even my optimistic chiropractor tells me that the most successful practice of chiropractic adjustment and daily exercises is unlikely to straighten out all the curves in my back. So why would I even put myself through these disciplines?
Similarly, even for the most optimistic theologian, it is widely accepted that humans cannot live perfect lives without the bends and twists of sin and frailty. So why would I suggest that people put themselves through spiritual disciplines of prayer, reading Scripture, service and worship, if they can't reshape the bends and twists of their humanity?
For one thing, without those disciplines, our bends and twists will get even worse. We become what we practice, and without intentional re-formation, we'll get very good at those de-formations. But an even better reason is that with those disciplines, our "shape" can improve. In faith lives as in spines, even a little less pain and suffering, and a little more serenity and energy, are worth the attention and effort.
But it's not just any effort that helps. We are all "de-formed" in different ways, and our disciplines must address those particularities. Otherwise, we may actually keep practicing the same deformations. For example, long before I first saw a chiropractor, I used to do yoga. I was very good at stretching the muscles which stretched easily, and strengthening those which were already strong. I didn't know how to pay attention to the cramped and weaker muscles which demanded more effort than I knew how to give.
In a similar way, my main spiritual discipline used to be journaling, in which I would analyze my thoughts and insights in a very private space. Through that practice (which was somewhat helpful to me and is very helpful for many), I was strengthening those already strong "muscles" of analysis and privacy, while paying far less attention to weaker areas such as expressing spontaneous emotion in community.
This new awareness of particular "curves" has made it much harder to teach spiritual formation to others. How should I know which ways people are "bent," and which "muscles" they need to strengthen in order to re-form? No universal advice seems to work anymore. "Take time alone" doesn't work for people who are isolated. "Focus on community" isn't helpful for people who are so outward-focused that they don't listen to God speaking within themselves. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer makes a similar point in his classic book on Christian community, "Life Together": "Whoever cannot be alone should beware of community. ... But the reverse is also true. Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone.")
To reshape the curve in my spine, each day I practice "bending against the curve," strengthening the weaker muscles around the spine. How can people bend against their own unique spiritual curves? Some people would grow spiritually if they became less self-centered and served others more. Others are so focused on others' needs that they would do better to know themselves and their own God-given desires. To say to all, "Serve others more" or "Focus on yourself" risks strengthening people where they are already strong and ignoring the places where they are weak.
Then how do we know if we should speak up more, or keep our mouths shut and listen? Become more vulnerable, or concentrate on our own safety? Spend more time alone or with others? These are questions for discernment, in which we attend to God's work on our particular, unique lives. Generally, a holy discomfort is a good sign that we're getting out of our well-practiced grooves and exercising a new shape.
Experimentation is allowed here. Formation is a lifelong process, and God's grace covers all our imperfect efforts. In fact, with God's help those efforts may effect far more than we imagine or deserve, reshaping us far beyond what we could accomplish ourselves. In faith lives and maybe even in spines, God sometimes shows up just as the prophets described (Isaiah 64:8, Jeremiah 18:3-6): as a potter willing and able to reshape us "clay vessels" (2 Corinthians 4:7) according to his perfect love for us.
Now there's some formation advice that would work for all of us: Trust the potter. We're in good hands.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
From those not-exactly-humble beginnings, somehow I've ended up in ministry pondering and teaching Christian formation, which is all about practice and not at all about perfection. On my cynical days, I wonder why on earth anyone would undertake something that involves so much persistence and discipline, without any promise whatsoever of eventual accomplishment or flawlessness.
In recent months, efforts to reshape my crooked back have given me a new understanding of formation. Those efforts, too, require much persistence and promise no perfection. The widely accepted medical wisdom has been that scoliosis can't be corrected without surgery. Even my optimistic chiropractor tells me that the most successful practice of chiropractic adjustment and daily exercises is unlikely to straighten out all the curves in my back. So why would I even put myself through these disciplines?
Similarly, even for the most optimistic theologian, it is widely accepted that humans cannot live perfect lives without the bends and twists of sin and frailty. So why would I suggest that people put themselves through spiritual disciplines of prayer, reading Scripture, service and worship, if they can't reshape the bends and twists of their humanity?
For one thing, without those disciplines, our bends and twists will get even worse. We become what we practice, and without intentional re-formation, we'll get very good at those de-formations. But an even better reason is that with those disciplines, our "shape" can improve. In faith lives as in spines, even a little less pain and suffering, and a little more serenity and energy, are worth the attention and effort.
But it's not just any effort that helps. We are all "de-formed" in different ways, and our disciplines must address those particularities. Otherwise, we may actually keep practicing the same deformations. For example, long before I first saw a chiropractor, I used to do yoga. I was very good at stretching the muscles which stretched easily, and strengthening those which were already strong. I didn't know how to pay attention to the cramped and weaker muscles which demanded more effort than I knew how to give.
In a similar way, my main spiritual discipline used to be journaling, in which I would analyze my thoughts and insights in a very private space. Through that practice (which was somewhat helpful to me and is very helpful for many), I was strengthening those already strong "muscles" of analysis and privacy, while paying far less attention to weaker areas such as expressing spontaneous emotion in community.
This new awareness of particular "curves" has made it much harder to teach spiritual formation to others. How should I know which ways people are "bent," and which "muscles" they need to strengthen in order to re-form? No universal advice seems to work anymore. "Take time alone" doesn't work for people who are isolated. "Focus on community" isn't helpful for people who are so outward-focused that they don't listen to God speaking within themselves. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer makes a similar point in his classic book on Christian community, "Life Together": "Whoever cannot be alone should beware of community. ... But the reverse is also true. Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone.")
To reshape the curve in my spine, each day I practice "bending against the curve," strengthening the weaker muscles around the spine. How can people bend against their own unique spiritual curves? Some people would grow spiritually if they became less self-centered and served others more. Others are so focused on others' needs that they would do better to know themselves and their own God-given desires. To say to all, "Serve others more" or "Focus on yourself" risks strengthening people where they are already strong and ignoring the places where they are weak.
Then how do we know if we should speak up more, or keep our mouths shut and listen? Become more vulnerable, or concentrate on our own safety? Spend more time alone or with others? These are questions for discernment, in which we attend to God's work on our particular, unique lives. Generally, a holy discomfort is a good sign that we're getting out of our well-practiced grooves and exercising a new shape.
Experimentation is allowed here. Formation is a lifelong process, and God's grace covers all our imperfect efforts. In fact, with God's help those efforts may effect far more than we imagine or deserve, reshaping us far beyond what we could accomplish ourselves. In faith lives and maybe even in spines, God sometimes shows up just as the prophets described (Isaiah 64:8, Jeremiah 18:3-6): as a potter willing and able to reshape us "clay vessels" (2 Corinthians 4:7) according to his perfect love for us.
Now there's some formation advice that would work for all of us: Trust the potter. We're in good hands.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.