Hello, Friends!

     This week we’ll continue to reflect on the spiritual discipline of self-emptying, the relinquishing of those aspects of our habitual ways of thinking and behaving that interfere with Spirit’s creative flow in our lives.  Though our offerings many not seem “sacrificial,” we may find the letting go difficult, and it may even seem too costly to our comfort zones even to undertake.  But there can be substantial spiritual “house-cleaning” value in becoming willing to surrender some habits, thoughts, and actions, especially when they unduly occupy our attention and energy, and detract from our energy for positive, heart-open living.

      How do we determine what to offer, of ourselves, our thoughts and actions, to make new and holy space for God?  Typically, if we “give something up” for Lent, it’s a luxury, and extra indulgence, a favorite, appetite-gratifying practice that we feel we might like too much, and that we can certainly live without.  A running joke in our family every year is John’s pledge to give up asparagus (to which he has a deep and abiding aversion).  I joke that I hope God doesn’t want me to give up dark chocolate, in which I only indulge occasionally, but really enjoy.  So what is a healthy standard for determining what we should surrender?

       We might look to the wisdom of Isaiah, from this past Sunday, which, paradoxically, promises abundant nourishment::

       “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters, and you that have no money, come, buy, and eat! Come, buy, … without money, and without price.  Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?  Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.  Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live.”  (Isaiah 55:1-3)

What an odd text for Lent!  Paired with Jesus’s cautionary urging of repentance, what are we to make to this, for our journey?  There are of course many nuances of possible meaning, but consider this, as one: 

       What if we pay attention to what truly satisfies, and to what leaves us feeling empty, or even worse, a bit ill?  Think about it.  Doesn’t the body let us know when we’ve had too much of a good thing, or taken in something unhealthy?  Likewise, don’t we sometimes get clear physical clues as to what sort of nourishment our physical beings are lacking?

       So it is with our consciousness, our soul-level awareness.  If we take Isaiah’s question to the heart level, we may well begin to ask ourselves why we persist in ways of thinking and behaving that do not nourish or satisfy, but rather leave us feeling unfulfilled, or even sick.  Holding on to hurts, resentments, fears, entrenched ways of seeing ourselves or others, while at the same time neglecting to give time, space, and energy to nourishing, life-giving thoughts and actions—our spiritual diets get out of balance, and we fail to thrive and grow as Spirit intends.

      This week I invite you to join me in paying attention to what “tastes good,” what really satisfies the body, mind, and spirit.  To aid in cultivating awareness, you might try including these questions in your time of devotional reflection:

      How may I be nourished, today?   How may I offer nourishment?

At day’s end, consider, in a time of prayerful receptivity:

      How have I been nourished, today?   How have I offered nourishment?

As always, in all things, give thanks to God for any emerging consciousness, including any unresolved areas that seem to need more attention.  As with all aspects of our faith journey, we aren’t expected to be perfect at this, or to arrive at some point of complete accomplishment or total balance in our spiritual diet.  But we can continue to cultivate new ways of being nourished so as to nourish, in the way of self-giving love modeled for us by the living Christ.

     I look forward to all our nourishing times ahead, this Sunday and all our days to come.

Shalom,  

Sarah