Hello, Friends!

     During these weeks of Lent we’ve been reflecting on some ways to focus and deepen our spiritual awareness, and enhance times of prayer and devotion with intentional consciousness and receptivity.

     In considering how to create times of stillness and silence, we asked the Holy for guidance as to how we might listen, and open.

     In reflecting on dimensions of meaning around the notion of sacrifice, or self-emptying, we pondered what God might desire for our lives, in terms of freedom from passive or active habits that unbalance us, and distract our awareness of Love’s wisdom.

     Today we come to the third of our four spiritual disciplines for the Lenten season, which is “study.”

      For many of us, the notion of studying conjures up perhaps painful memories of cramming for exams, trying to squeeze enough factoids into our short-term memories to enable us to perform on some teacher’s measure of our comprehension of a subject.  Late-nighters fueled with excessive doses of caffeine and sugar may have resulted in official grades that qualified as good, or even excellent—but how much of that stuff did we retain for more than a few weeks?

       Even more significant, how much of that kind of “learning” has stuck with us over the long haul, for active application to our lived experience?  Chances are, not that much.  The truth is, no matter how worthy the subject matter, or even how much we may have wanted to master it, if our incentive is to measure up to some external  performance standard dictated by another, what we take in will not really sink in, or take root, much less contribute to any deep or substantive nourishment of real knowledge.

         What we remember, what we really retain and take delight in calling to mind, what we really internalize as learning are those dimensions of inquiry that capture our imaginations, that make us want to learn more.

          No question, there is considerable value in being willing to undertake study of of a subject in which one feels inadequate, uninformed, or inexperienced –something in a field outside our usual areas of understood competence.  If we only stayed connected to subjects in which we could already claim some mastery, our minds would atrophy, our knowledge of the world would shrink to the dimensions of established comfort zones.

          In order to become willing to learn in any lasting and useful way, the fire for learning must be authentic, and with it the willingness to work at the learning process.  So it is with our spiritual journey.  Of course there are many ways to grow in faith, and increase in wisdom and centeredness in God.  But let’s not forget that spiritual growth is no different from growth in any other area of being.  To remain healthy and grow strong, our physical bodies require regular, continual, focused exercise and nourishment.   To remain open and grow more trusting, our spirits require times of prayer and devotion, alone and in community.  And for our minds to remain alert and grow in understanding and curiosity, we need to devote time and intellectual energy to regular, continuous times of reading, thinking, and engaging like-minded others in dialogue about matters of belief and practice.

        No one can foist a formula for such learning on anyone else; the process must be authentic, and willingly undertaken, to bear any kind of useful or lasting benefit.  I do know, though, that our individual and communal spiritual livelihood depends on a measure of commitment by members of the body to this kind of growing, for all ages and stages of our fellowship.

     During the coming months we’ll be trying some new approaches to our learning life here at St. Luke—some different times, venues, and styles of study.  I encourage you to consider how the Holy may be nudging you to learn, and grow.  I would love to hear from you about any questions, issues, or ideas you’d like us to explore, together.  Maybe you’ve read a great book recently that you’d like others to read, so you can talk about it.  Maybe you keep wondering how faith perspective can apply to a current problem.  Maybe there’s something you’ve always wanted to know,  but were afraid to ask.

      I can’t promise any easy or immediate answers—that’s just now how real learning works.  I can promise that for those of us who are willing to come together for the purpose of growing in the Spirit, growth will happen, in amazing and unforeseen ways that challenge, and delight, and inspire.

       So for this week’s times of daily prayer, you might ask these questions:

How am I being called to study, and to learn?   And at day’s end:   How am I answering the call to study, and to learn?

As inklings and inclinations surface, make note of them.  And as Spirit leads us, let’s come together, and choose some paths of learning to undertake.

       I look forward to all our ways of continuing to learn, this Sunday, and all our days to come.

Shalom,

Sarah