Thoughts on Community

Community is a matter of the heart and the mind. It cannot be created by place alone, and it cannot be destroyed by distance alone. It is the essence of the soul.    –Joan Chittister

If you read my musings often, you will know the value I place on community. Community has sustained me when life has been incredibly hard. I do not take for granted the gift of community and am grateful for the communities to which I belong.

Sister Joan’s observation about community arises, at least in some part, from her own experience living in a monastery as a Benedictine Sister. But hopefully most of us can identify with her observation from our own experiences of community. As she notes, simply living under the same roof does not create community. Nor does being part of a particular group.

Community is not the same as a collection of individuals. There is a quality of soul that true community shares. One can be terribly lonely in a group when there is no soul connection, when there is no one interested in listening to what it is that makes your soul sing. In fact, one of the signs of verbal abuse in a marriage is that the abuser trivializes what is important to the other by being disinterested or dismissive. Proximity does not necessarily create community.

On the other hand, distance does not quash community that is rooted in genuine care for one another. You may have friends you do not see often, but when you do, it is as if no time has passed. You pick up where you left off. When you have such connections, you can be alone and yet not be lonely, for the soul connection is palpable.

If the soul’s essence is to be in community, then it matters that we build relationships that are deep and mutually life-giving, relationships that help you discover your true self, that do not silence your true voice. If we squelch our truth to try to fit into someone else’s idea of who we should be, we will not find peace in our souls.

True community feeds our souls and reveals to us the commonwealth of God.

A Yoke of Gentleness

Put on my yoke, and learn from me. I’m gentle and humble. And you will find rest for yourselves.

                                                                                                                                Matthew 11:29

To focus on this one verse helps me to see it differently. Jesus invites us to learn his way of gentleness and humility. When we focus on striving to better ourselves, to win over others, to prove ourselves right, worthy, smart, capable and adept, we will inevitably come up short at some time. There is a limit beyond which our faculties and milieu will not let us go.

We mostly live our lives trying to be superhuman. Our culture encourages it. Perfection, at least in what is visible to others, is the goal. But it is a goal we cannot reach. We dress our family for the perfect family photo and struggle to find one where everyone appears happy. We set a table for the perfect family meal and then the bread gets too brown on the bottom or the dog licks the ham and we can either come unglued or remember that life is not perfect.

In so many scenes of our life—at work, at church, in the community—we envision scenarios where everything goes smoothly, only to experience that they don’t. Real life does not look like perfection.

Jesus’ offer to be gentle and humble begins with ourselves. When we can let go of the superhuman image of ourselves that we strive to present to others and even to ourselves, and can accept our dents and scratches and let these be visible to others, then we can learn to rest.

While we may strive for exterior perfection, the perfection to which Jesus calls us is wholeness, completeness, the fullness of our humanity.

Thomas Merton said that to be a saint is to be who you are. How do we come to know ourselves wholly, deeply, clearly so that we become more fully human? Jesus invites us to a way of gentleness and humility, so we can begin to see the self that God sees and loves. Not an outwardly perfect self, but a self created in the image of God that gives voice to the unique melody God has placed in each of us. When we sing that melody, we grow more fully human n the way God created us to be. To know ourselves more fully allows us to know God more fully.

Scarcity vs Contentment

The man who thinks nothing of goods has freed himself from quarrels and disputes. But the lover of possessions will fight to the death for a needle.  –John Climacus

John Climacus was born in 570 and lived as a monk on Mount Sinai in Egypt. Yet his wisdom is timeless. For it is not the amount of one’s possessions that makes one possessive, it is the inner disposition of heart.

Possessiveness is rooted in a disposition of scarcity, a fear of there not being enough. It isn’t limited only to possessions. I have known people who are possessive of spouses or friends. They see love as a scarce resource. Possessiveness can extend to experiences, where a fear of missing out keeps one always focused on the next vacation, the next concert, the next big event.

Scarcity tells us that we are not enough just as we are and that having more, doing more, or receiving more attention will assuage our insecurity. But this is fear’s way of blinding us from trusting God, who loves us as we are and whose love and provision are abundant and limitless.

When our inner disposition is fear, there is always something to protect and defend. Fear builds walls. When I live in fear, I see situations and people as a threat to my well-being. This happens in obvious ways, but also in ways so subtle and insidious that we may not recognize fear as the driving force. When we are jealous of another because they get more attention than we do, when we worry about what others think of us, when we are obsessed with holding and increasing our possessions, fear is controlling how we see the world and how we see ourselves.

When our inner disposition is contentment, we can share our time and possessions freely with others. We don’t build walls when we live from a place of abundance. We don’t have to quarrel with others when we have nothing to protect or defend. When we can be content with however others think of us, when we act out of desire for the well-being of another and don’t need to be appreciated or recognized, we can come to know the inner peace that passes understanding.

All around us is a culture of fear and scarcity. But we don’t have to buy into that way of seeing the world. That way is a way of bondage. The way of abundance is the way of freedom.

The Gift of Communities

I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve been out of town a lot recently. Being gone, especially the three weeks I was in North Carolina for yoga teacher training, has reminded me how much communities nourish and sustain me. I missed my people. I was grateful for texts from friends offering encouragement and letting me know I was missed. When I was fatigued at day’s end, these messages mattered to me.

It matters that we are part of a community, or of several communities. Studies show that being an active part of a community, be it religious organization or the people you regularly exercise with, enhances our health. It truly does take a village, not only to raise children but to maintain our sense of well-being.

What I likewise noticed was how my fellow teacher trainees became a community over the three weeks we spent together. We were quite a diverse group—different ages, different beliefs and values, and from different places. Yet, to my knowledge, no one let their differences get in the way of hospitality to or compassion for one another. We were there for a common purpose and that transcended the differences among us.

In a culture that values individuality, where your individual preferences are catered to by restaurants and retailers, it is sometimes easy to forget the value of community. The divisiveness we see in our country today shows me that we value our individual preferences over community. Fear of “the other” leads to isolation, and there is nothing nurturing or sustaining about isolation.

Joy cannot exist in an environment of isolation, because we need one another in order to share joy. And times of sorrow are better borne among community. We grow by exposure to more than what we already know. If communities exist only to close off others, to promote homogenous thinking, they are unhealthy communities to belong to. The common ground of such communities is fear, and fear cannot coexist with joy. Fear never nourishes us. Opening ourselves to different ideas and people is what makes community rich and healthy.

I am grateful for all my communities. They are diverse, yet they are all filled with hospitality and love. As I wrote on a recent Instagram post, home is where you give and receive love. And love, especially love given and received in community, is necessary for us to flourish.

With

Whoever isn’t with me is against me, and whoever doesn’t gather with me scatters.

                                                                                                                                ---Matthew 12:30

I want to be with you, Jesus,

always,

every moment, every breath, every step,

every thought, every heartbeat, every blink of the eye.

I want to be in the flow of your grace—

gathering, drawing in, embracing with you the ones you love,

everyone.

Let my words speak love; center me in your heart.

May I be light and salt for you.

Show me your way,

your path, that I may not stray from it.

Let me not be scattered but gathered,

centered, content in you. Amen.

Union

Today I was a bird, singing the song

   Creator gave me to sing.

I was a tree, bearing fruit nourished

   by roots deep in God’s soil.

I was a brook, babbling and sparkling

   in the sun, making its way

   naturally, beautifully.

Today I caught fire. I was all flame,

   fully alive in the flow of grace.

One hundred percent who I was created

   to be,

      like bird, brook and tree.

Today I knew union, not in ecstasy,

   but in living completely surrendered,

   bursting with the gifts of my true self

   the way a fully ripe grape bursts between the teeth.

Awe

How do we even stay upright

when burning bushes are everywhere?

Angels fly around my head

twittering their praise to God.

I feel I should fall to my knees

as God’s breath blows against my skin

and moves the clouds across the sky.

Surely this butterfly, yellow against gray trees,

is a miracle, a sign that all nature incarnates God.