I had a professor in college we affectionately called "The Sarge." "The Sarge" taught Koine Greek, or Biblical Greek -- parsing verbs, translating passages. It was brutal! So brutal that I took up smoking cheap cigars the night before a test and had a flashcard bonfire at the end of the year. Outside of Greek, this professor taught sociology and religion classes. No "Sarge" in these settings. In fact, she was one of my favorites. In a time of deep spiritual crisis I went to her for advice. I needed help dealing with doubt. My faith journey is marked by a constant wrestle with doubt and fear of spiritual intimacy. Her advice in 1997, "Cling to the Liturgy. Let it carry you."
I did not grow up with Liturgy -- rites, rituals, spiritual seasons, and a three-year cycle of reading through the Scripture. But I was exploring Liturgy through prayer books as well as visiting Greek Orthodox and Catholic churches. I was beginning to understand that other versions of Christian faith had calendars that followed a rhythm of spiritual seasons -- Advent, Lent, Easter. Her advice was the answer I needed. When the doubts come (which they still come often) hold on to the daily readings, the prayers, and the seasons and allow this be be the anchor to Truth. When my mind and emotions want to throw it all away, Liturgy holds me -- even in those times I am kicking and screaming.
I am now coming out of a season of intense preparation and waiting. I finished nursing school, passed my boards, and just landed a job on a cardiovascular floor at a major hospital. Through nursing school, I often found myself bobbing around looking for something to ground me back to my Spiritual base and my own purpose. I have been a therapist for ten years. Morning rituals of reading and writing were lost in the business of clinicals, studies, working part time, and most importantly being with my family. And as in the past, in these seasons of feeling lost, Liturgy brought me back to what matters. Liturgy guided me back to what really matters.
The Gospel readings over the past few weeks have focused on Jesus' parables regarding our talents. What do we do with what God has given us? Do we hide it or do we invest it? To answer this core question of what to do with what we have been given, we must first understand who we have been made to be. Now, being an introvert and a therapist, this can lead me to a journey of introspection for the sole purpose of staring at my personality. I do believe we must do some soul searching -- how are we uniquely made? What talents do we have? But it cannot stop there, it must lead to the second part, how am I called to use this to love my neighbor? How am I called to be in order to further bring the Kingdom of God here on earth? This is a question of stewardship. How am I investing my being that God has uniquely created to love God and love my neighbor?
Over the last several days I must have found some time portal and transported back to jr. high. I found myself in an intense pursuit of social acceptance. I was using my ability to adapt my personality in order to mirror those I deemed "the cool moms." I sacrificed my true self, the self that is serious about spiritual matters, social justice, respecting the Sacraments of the church -- I buried these gifts and passions out of fear. Fear that others would not accept this "nerdy and do-gooder" side of me.
Opening myself up to the Liturgy, jumping back into the routines that ground me, I find myself. I found myself in the Gospel stories as the one burying my talents. I found myself repentant and awakened. This was not who I was called to be. But without some anchor, something serving as a constant call to be true, I quickly return to bouncing around and conforming to whoever or whatever is around me.
Being true to myself has a higher purpose. It is the vessel from which I love those around me. Taking the time to stay rooted, to stay focused on that which God has uniquely called me to keeps me in tune to the part I am called to play. We are all one body made up of many parts. Staying connected to that which anchors me to Truth serves as the constant reminder to continue playing my part. It is so easy for me to get jealous of others and to sacrifice my true self in hopes for temporary acceptance, but in the end this only hurts myself and my neighbor. Be true.
I did not grow up with Liturgy -- rites, rituals, spiritual seasons, and a three-year cycle of reading through the Scripture. But I was exploring Liturgy through prayer books as well as visiting Greek Orthodox and Catholic churches. I was beginning to understand that other versions of Christian faith had calendars that followed a rhythm of spiritual seasons -- Advent, Lent, Easter. Her advice was the answer I needed. When the doubts come (which they still come often) hold on to the daily readings, the prayers, and the seasons and allow this be be the anchor to Truth. When my mind and emotions want to throw it all away, Liturgy holds me -- even in those times I am kicking and screaming.
I am now coming out of a season of intense preparation and waiting. I finished nursing school, passed my boards, and just landed a job on a cardiovascular floor at a major hospital. Through nursing school, I often found myself bobbing around looking for something to ground me back to my Spiritual base and my own purpose. I have been a therapist for ten years. Morning rituals of reading and writing were lost in the business of clinicals, studies, working part time, and most importantly being with my family. And as in the past, in these seasons of feeling lost, Liturgy brought me back to what matters. Liturgy guided me back to what really matters.
The Gospel readings over the past few weeks have focused on Jesus' parables regarding our talents. What do we do with what God has given us? Do we hide it or do we invest it? To answer this core question of what to do with what we have been given, we must first understand who we have been made to be. Now, being an introvert and a therapist, this can lead me to a journey of introspection for the sole purpose of staring at my personality. I do believe we must do some soul searching -- how are we uniquely made? What talents do we have? But it cannot stop there, it must lead to the second part, how am I called to use this to love my neighbor? How am I called to be in order to further bring the Kingdom of God here on earth? This is a question of stewardship. How am I investing my being that God has uniquely created to love God and love my neighbor?
Over the last several days I must have found some time portal and transported back to jr. high. I found myself in an intense pursuit of social acceptance. I was using my ability to adapt my personality in order to mirror those I deemed "the cool moms." I sacrificed my true self, the self that is serious about spiritual matters, social justice, respecting the Sacraments of the church -- I buried these gifts and passions out of fear. Fear that others would not accept this "nerdy and do-gooder" side of me.
Opening myself up to the Liturgy, jumping back into the routines that ground me, I find myself. I found myself in the Gospel stories as the one burying my talents. I found myself repentant and awakened. This was not who I was called to be. But without some anchor, something serving as a constant call to be true, I quickly return to bouncing around and conforming to whoever or whatever is around me.
Being true to myself has a higher purpose. It is the vessel from which I love those around me. Taking the time to stay rooted, to stay focused on that which God has uniquely called me to keeps me in tune to the part I am called to play. We are all one body made up of many parts. Staying connected to that which anchors me to Truth serves as the constant reminder to continue playing my part. It is so easy for me to get jealous of others and to sacrifice my true self in hopes for temporary acceptance, but in the end this only hurts myself and my neighbor. Be true.
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