Spirit to Spirit Writing Project
The word Lent comes from an old English word meaning lengthening of days. In Christianity, it refers to the time before Easter, traditionally observed through repentance and learning. It's a season to be intentional about changing and growing. Some people give up items to create space and time for new life and habits to grow. Instead of giving something up, I invite you to try to commit to answering these writing prompts each of the 40 days of Lent. The discipline it takes to set aside time each day to reflect and write about God and your relationship with spirituality is a journey that you will emerge from with a renewed spirit. Every writer has their own special voice to add to this project, whether poetry, prose, essay, thoughts, lists, or through comments, prayer, and encouragement.
How do I participate?
Each day, a writing prompt will be posted. A prompt is a question or statement that is meant to inspire your thoughts in whatever genre you feel moved to write. Post your reflections as a comment under each day's prompt (for further instructions, see 'How To Post' on the right side of the page). It is up to you if you write, read, or pray along with us each of the 40 days of Lent or just drop in from time to time when the spirit moves you to participate. Writing regularly is a discipline that many writers struggle with and this is a way to involve that discipline as a Lenten practice. Through writing and leaving encouraging words for others in this project, we become a supportive spiritual writing community
Sacred Practices
ReplyDeleteEach Lent, as Palm Sunday approaches, I make a prayer labyrinth for the toddlers in my parent/toddler Sunday school class. It’s a sensory- based labyrinth in a simple spiral shape and they are welcome to follow their own bee-like “Inner labyrinth path” rather than tramping down the path set before them. I dim the lights in the small multi-purpose classroom, stack all the chairs, and early in the morning I lay out the labyrinth. First, I lay multi-colored 8 ½ x 11 sheets of construction paper down on the floor. When I find the spiral shape that works with the room, I tape them down to the rug with blue painter’s tape. This is the hardest part. But While I am on my knees, taping and adjusting, I think of the toddlers who will use it. I think of the parents. I sometimes sing a little song to myself about blessing the children who enter the room as I tape. It is usually quiet, solitary work, creeping around like The Yellow Wallpaper. Crazy Sunday school teacher, making a labyrinth for toddlers! When all is taped, I put down three sheets of white paper as the final steps to the center of the labyrinth. Then, I set up five chairs. Each chair along the labyrinth is a station with an item pertaining to Lent in a language that is appropriate for toddlers: the senses. This is why I love working with toddlers so much. Their spiritual understanding at this time is in a language that does not use words.
The children and parents remove their shoes before entering the room. The first station along their path is a small yellow sponge that is soaked in oil in a dish. There is a guide for what the parents can do as well as a prayer for them to say. The parents bless the children with an olive oil cross traced on their forehead. Then, (and this is their favorite part,) they always want to put a cross on their parent’s forehead too.
The second station is a small Tupperware container with holes in the lid. There is a cotton ball inside that has been dabbed with an oil of Frankincense and Myrrh.
We don’t talk to the toddlers about sin or absolution. They’re toddlers. They’re exempt. There’s time later on for learning about that. They just smell the container and save it in their sensory memory.
The third station is a melodic chime. It has to be melodic because I know that it will be chimed repeatedly and with vigor.
The fourth station is a bowl full of matzo bread. Toddlers. Love. Matzo. They happily crunch it and leave crumbs all over the floor.
The last station, which isn’t on the path, is a vase with bare branches in it. The parents ask the kids what they are thankful for, or in a more understandable phrasing, what do they like? The child makes marks on a circle or a sun cutout and the parent writes down what the child said it was.
After they have explored everything, we gather in the center for a very short story about using the 5 senses out in God’s world and being thankful for all that we can see, hear, touch, taste, and smell.
Then we form a choo-choo train and choo-choo out of the labyrinth.
Sacred.
What a great story and what a wonderful idea. I like the choo-choo idea as well. Doug
DeleteThey're toddler's. They're exempt! - Ha! I love it! Good on ya!
DeleteWhat a fascinating work of melding such an old tradition of the labyrinth to the lives and experience of children who are so in the moment. Very cool!
Makes me want to be in it too.
DeleteMakes me want to be in it too.
DeleteHow wonderful!
DeleteRuth, I think you know how much I love this!
DeleteHonour your father- Doug Millar
ReplyDeleteLast March my wife Helen and I visited Japan for the third time. We were pleased to have an invitation by our friend Watanabe-san, to visit him and stay at his house. We are familiar with Japanese traditional ways and were excited to share in them with Mike and his Wife.
His father’s house is quite large and a mixture of traditional rooms with tatami mats and rooms with western furniture. It is very comfortable house has seen several children grow up and even grandchildren. Mike’s father was well known to the last two emperors of Japan and was of assistance to them. After getting situated in the house, Mike took us to the living room where there was a shrine to his father. There were numerous plaques one after the other hung on the wall at a slant to make reading them easier. Many had the imperial seal on them. On one wall was a large black and white picture of his father on a shelf with a number of traditional Japanese religious items. On the floor facing the picture was a kneeling cushion and a small table with a bell and some other religious symbols. As I stood looking at the plaques and pictures trying to understand them, Mike knelt down and softly tapped the bell three times, clapped his hands and bowed his head. The presence of his father was palpable. After a pause, he invited Helen to do the same, which she did. I followed her. Even with years of experience in the clergy I was nervous because I felt strongly the moment and wanted to not only show proper respect to my friend’s father but to have his favor. I simply relaxed and did as I had been shown, gently tapping the bell and clapping my hands. I didn’t pray but only listened and thought how fortunate I was to be In the presence of both the past and present of this auspicious family. I slowly got back on my feet and felt quiet and thoughtful. I thanked Mike for letting me do it. I felt welcomed into his family and deeply honored that he would introduce me to his father. I recognize his risk in introducing a foreigner to him. I began to understand how deeply he held our friendship. I thanked him for letting me have this experience. He seemed very pleased that Helen and I understood and appreciated this moment. We moved on to getting ready for the night. They set up futon beds with plenty of covers in a tatami matted room. The bath was drawn and the spa like sitting bath was checked. We were shown the toilet room with a digital toilet that would do marvelous things for you if you could read the instructions, but possibly the opposite if you experimented with the controls unknowingly. Knowing my proclivities with electronics, Mike specifically noted the dangers to me. We spent a restful night and joined him and his wife for coffee and pastries in the morning in a Japanese style Western Kitchen. How strange to be in such a strange place and yet feel so comfortable and welcome. Where we had in the past been friends on occasions in Europe and Texas, I felt more like a brother now. I can’t say how, but the presence of his father has stayed with me. It gives me a sense of peace and keeps Mike and I connected.
Just so you know, I resisted experimenting with the toilet’s settings and its possible services, partly out of fear and partly out of knowing his dad would disapprove.
Dad,
DeleteI love this sacred moment that was something outside of your natural realm. I think that when you knelt and 'didn't pray', that reflective thinking that you were doing was actually prayer. It doesn't have to be formal. I love that you gained a brother from that experience. You tend to gather them wherever you go, don't you? ; )
Thank you for the comment. You are right about prayer. It can be listening or talking or both. Yes, I think one of the best parts of traveling is getting to know people that are different and yet the same as you. Astronomy and ham radio become a bridge that makes that easier. Still in those groups, not many seem to reach out. Dad
DeleteWhat a beautiful experience - no only for you but now for me too. Thank you. And beauty, in it's best sense is an experience of awe - and a sense of the sacred. Just Beautiful. (I think you go again though you should experiment.....just saying)
DeleteI'd say you did pray. And I felt the experience as powerful.
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ReplyDeleteSweat Lodge Ceremony on Navajo Reservation at Canyon De Chelley in Arizona;
On a Hiking Vacation through Four Corner’s School of Outdoor Education and Women in the Wilderness.
A bit apprehensive that it might seem I was doing it for “a curiosity.”
I wasn’t worried, as one was, that it might be worshipping “another” God,
For to me, we all pray to the same Great Father.
The process was explained, we could go out if we were uncomfortable, physically,
Or spiritually, Go out and back in if we needed to get out of the heat for a short spell and return.
Shedding our clothing caused us some nervousness, although we knew
There were no men nearby. Our Navajo guide’s husband had set up, built the fire,
Put out the wood and water containers to wash off in.
God knew what we looked like naked and could deal with it,
Our reticence was with the other women seeing us because of our own locked-in
Ideas about what our own bodies “should” look like.
Some put towels around until we entered the darkness inside the tent.
So, we came into the sacred, clean, as we had come into the world.
Into darkness this time, where all were seen as equal,
This was a place to release our inner burdens as well,
Loads we had carried around during the week, not in our backpacks,
Cares about people and things in our lives away from this wide expanse of beauty,
That we couldn’t fix from where we were, or where we came from.
We sat, sweated, listened and prayed, silently or aloud as we shared our thanks and our pain. Although I felt my prayers to be shared communally came easier with a pen in my hand, I spoke mine; and joined silently with those of others.
A few of us came out, needing a break from the heat, re-entered or stayed out and absorbed the awesomeness of our surroundings, as we had since this stay began.
As we poured water on each other, cooling down, refreshing our bodies, in silence or hushed tones, we were no longer worrying about our lack of clothing,
Until we noted clouds headed steadily towards us that were likely to cool us further and
Make our drive over unpaved roads into a sticky situation.
powerful Marlene.
DeletePowerful story. It made me remember the quiet vastness of that area and what a great experience that must have been. Doug
DeletePrayer and Relics
ReplyDeleteI felt bad,
awkward at best
but really
I felt bad.
We were visiting an old fort,
active in the late eighteen hundreds
but now a tourist destination.
In the middle of our visit
some native Americans came to dance.
I’ve been to native American dances.
I’ve seen what they wear
and heard them sing before.
But this time was just for show
It was just for the tourists.
We applauded when they were over
and then we went on with our touristy things.
But I wondered:
Would the holy acts of my faith
become a ‘show’ some day
at a heritage site
full of old things
from a time gone by.
Would the sacraments from my faith
someday
become relics
that people fight to preserve
because they are relics
passing into history
and passing out of life.
That was a sad day for me.
We watched the dance
but missed the song.
Never thought of it. What a wonderful insight. I like the last phrase a lot.
DeleteDoug
Powerful thoughts here, and well shared.
DeleteYes, different vibes than at their gatherings that are more like worship in community, including prayer and honoring, drumming and dance. .
ReplyDelete