What Brings You Up Short

The class I'm taking is divided into two halves-- the first part, where we all discuss what we read in our respective chapters, and the second part, where we do Theological Reflection. I'm going to fess right up and say that I don't like Theological Reflection. (Or didn't. More on that in a minute.)

The process goes like this: someone brings in a poem, a short essay, or a snippet of some sort of text, which we all read. We've had everything from songs to blog posts to the first page of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. We then narrow the focus to one little bit of the text-- one moment or character-- and create a metaphor that captures the focus. For example, Harry Potter's misery at being left under the stairs is like a puppy living in an animal shelter. We then have a rubric we use to explore the world of the metaphor in terms of creation, sin, judgment, repentance, and redemption.

OK-- my eyes are rolling back in my head a little bit just describing this, but there you have it. Anyway, we make a chart with lists of words under each of the terms above. For creation, some of the questions we ask about the metaphor are "What is this world like?" "How does it feel?" "What's it like to live in this world?" For sin, it's "What's destructive?" "What separates or alienates?" "What moves us away from God?" For judgment it's questions like "What brings you up short?" "What confronts or challenges you?" "What side does God take?" For repentance, we discuss the cathartic event and how one moves on, and for redemption, we ask "What gives rise to celebration in this world?" "Where is God?" "What is the source of the positive?"

We THEN brainstorm and choose a piece of scripture or tradition (Episcopal liturgical practices and belief) that reminds us of the metaphor...and we go through all the steps again. Once we're through, we think about what incident from our lives this final reflection evokes, and we then think about what we believe or affirm about what we've encountered in this reflection.

Still with me? Things get sparkly and amazing in just a second, I promise.

The last bit is that we either write a collect (type of prayer) as a group, or make a list of the insights / implications for action we now have.

Last week, without going through the whole process here, these were the insights:

--Love is about sharing. You can't do it by yourself.
--Redemption = based on a catalyst
--Awareness that I have resources and don't have to be angry at the people asking
--"Why not?" instead of "Why?"
--Correcting our reactions
--The perspective that we come from is important
--Make sure you care for self

So, then. The rest of this post is about my experiences this past week with the bolded insight above.

You can click here to read what I've blogged before about our next door neighbors. It's more than a little shaming to read it back now-- it's completely devoid of any sense of love or charity-- but I'm letting it stand as a testament to how my thinking has changed. Anyway, things are and have been very, very difficult for them, and because of various crime-related issues that have left me worried about their proximity to my children, I've done nothing more than smile and wave over the fence. I've chosen not to get involved.

And I've been absolutely swimming in guilt about it.

Anyway, fast forward to this past Friday. Mr. Milkweed's school was not yet back in session, so he was home and I was able to go volunteer at our church soup kitchen. Our church is situated right at the edge of the college campus and next to a massive public park where many homeless congregate, so we offer a free lunch every Friday to anyone who wants to eat it.

When I've been able to go I've found a little niche standing by the tables of free clothing that we offer, which I like because I'm not back in the kitchen but out among the guests. I get to interact with them this way, which is my favorite part. This past Friday I was spending a lot of time talking to one of our priests about Eva and Silas and about some theological books I'd like to read, so I was a little distracted, but right as we were closing down and cleaning up, a man came up to me and asked if there was any food left.

It was my next door neighbor.

He didn't recognize me right away, so I invited him to sit down and then ran into the kitchen to see what we could pull together. The other volunteers fixed a to-go jar of soup and a packet of cornbread for him, and I went to our stash of candy to grab him a handful. I took it all back out, took a deep breath, and introduced myself as his neighbor. We laughed about not recognizing each other out of context, and then I handed him his food and told him I had been praying for his family. His eyes filled with tears and he thanked me, and then I went back into the kitchen.

That was a huge thing, you guys. HUGE. On so very many levels. I mean, really...it was kind of like being sucker-punched by God.

Silas had trouble sleeping that night, and as I lay awake judging the sound and quality of his whimpers, I couldn't stop thinking about seeing my neighbor. And I suddenly remembered the insight from class on Wednesday night, which had come after a discussion of living life from a perspective of abundance rather than scarcity. If you believe you have a lot to offer, it's easy to give it away when someone asks.

I've heard from another neighbor that this family has finally entered into the process of being evicted. They most likely won't be here much longer, but it's my plan to buy a gift certificate for a local grocery store and give it to the mom next time I see her. I haven't worked out what I'm going to say, but that'll come.

To make a long story short, I'm going to quit my whining about TR and really try to focus on it from now on. It might not be my preferred method of learning, but it's obviously a realm of spiritual formation that I need to pay close attention to. It's already changing me, as reluctant as I've been about the whole thing...and that's kind of amazing.