Holy Synchronicity

Though today was only day one, I hope to continue blogging throughout my CPE journey. It's going to be a long haul and I'm going to have plenty to process (hopefully coherently) outside of class. This may be just one manifestation of that. Welcome to the wild ride. 

Today, after I got home from class-- which was a full 8 hours of learning how to use the computer system-- I found two emails: one was a poem from a daily poem subscription and the other was my enneathought.* 

The poem is called "The Moment" and it's from Margaret Atwood:

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,  

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe. 

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.

And my enneathought said this:

No matter what type we are, Holy Law is the dynamic, living unity of everything as an unfolding process. There can be no independent doing or accomplishment because everything is happening together. 

Holy synchronicity, right? And I mean Holy with a capital H. Holy. 

How perfect that these two texts would collide on the same day that I start CPE. While this experience is about me learning and growing and learning new ways to be in ministry with others, chaplaincy is not about me at all. It is about entering the cosmic flow of dialogue with a patient; it's about letting go of my own ego and desires; it's about encountering the unfolding of life before me; it's about paying attention to the gifts of life and death; it's about the living unity and dynamism of everything; it's about being 'a visitor time after time' and not pretending like I know everything; it's about being curious; it's about finding and being found. Without G-d** this experience is nothing. Which means I am never doing this work independently-- though I may like to think so. G-d is present with me in every moment, every prayer, every mistake, every hurdle, every learning. Every Everything. 

G-d, in search for communion, created the world in G-d's own image-- that multifarious and complex image. In this diversity and unity (but not uniformity), we are called to care for each other and seek justice through fostering right relationships with one another. The mission statement of the health system for whom I am working says this:

We serve together in the spirit of the Gospel to be a compassionate and transforming healing presence within our communities. 

Yes. I yearn to be a part of that. I yearn to serve together, understanding that nothing is done without the unfolding of the rest of life; I yearn to serve in the spirit of the Gospel understanding that I own nothing and seek to be just one speck in someone's healing process; I yearn to be a compassionate and transforming healing presence because I know it is that to which I am so deeply called; and I yearn to do all of this within [these] communities because it is a place that values the dignity and respect of the vulnerable. 

When I write it all down, I get really excited... 

                                                                and yet there are those pesky dragons....





*Enneathought is a daily email from the Enneagram Institute, which I love. To learn more about it or what your enneagram number might be, follow this link. Also I love talking about the enneagram so feel free to engage me around that as well.

**I use ‘G-d’ as a way to reference the mystery and vastness of the Divine. Dashes indicate that the reader should take note of the substance between the dashes. In this case, it is my hope that to use a dash instead of an ‘o’ we are reminded to stand in awe of the ineffable, limitlessness of the Holy—an unfinished word for a Still-Speaking G-d. It also hearkens back to G-d’s chosen name in the Hebrew Scriptures: יהוה, Yahweh, which is actually an non-word in Hebrew. 
 

Here be dragons...

Well, I'm back. Oh, blogging-- how I've missed you.

As you've probably noticed, or maybe you haven't, this blog received a facelift. I changed the background as I start a new phase. Just today I began the last piece of formal education in my ordination process with the UCC: Clinical Pastoral Education. CPE, as it is commonly known, is required for most people entering professional Christian ministry. It is most commonly experienced as hospital chaplaincy. Here is how the Association for CPE explains their program:

Clinical Pastoral Education is interfaith professional education for ministry. It brings theological students and ministers of all faiths (pastors, priests, rabbis, imams and others) into supervised encounter with persons in crisis. Out of an intense involvement with persons in need, and the feedback from peers and teachers, students develop new awareness of themselves as persons and of the needs of those to whom they minister. From theological reflection on specific human situations, they gain a new understanding of ministry. Within the interdisciplinary team process of helping persons, they develop skills in interpersonal and interprofessional relationships. 

It is a very challenging and enlightening experience, from what I've heard. Today I met my cohort, supervisor(s) and was trained in the hospital computer system. Fortunately, I've had to enter stats on a daily basis before, so I know the routine. (Thank you, MFP.) All the other change that will come soon floats all around my mind. I'm reminded of something Elizabeth Johnson, C.S.J., wrote about medieval map makers. "When [they] came to the limit of their knowledge of the known world, they ofttimes wrote in the empty space, 'Here be dragons.' There is something frightening about moving into the unknown, which might harm or devour us" (Quest for the Living God, p. 5). When we don't know what lies ahead, it is easy to make stuff up or concoct anxieties that might not ever exist in our impending experience. At least I know this to be true for me. And for anyone who has heard me talk about my nerves about CPE, you know this to be true about me as well. We are human-- we tend to be afraid of what we don't know. As I have already learned with CPE, it's important to be able to name what you're feeling. And as my favorite 6 year old tells me, "Feel your fear and act anyway" (Chloe Robberts-Mosser). And so I take a take a breath (or two), I say a prayer (or two), and I jump into the dragon- filled unknown.

As for the name change... it used to be "own the mystery." But with my next post, you'll see why I changed it away from the language of ownership. I have changed it to "hold it up to the light" after one of my favorite songs by David Wilcox. You can listen to it here. It is one of those songs that have helped me in my discernment of... everything. It seems appropriate as I head into the sea of dragons. 

"I said ,'God, will you bless this decision, because I'm so scared here with my life at stake. And now I see if you gave me a vision, then I would never have reason to use my faith.'"