Faith

Ministry and the Measuring Stick

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As we get closer to Holy Week, we will soon hear the beautiful Scripture story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. Afterwards he says to them: “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” (John 13:14-15)

By His example, we are all called to minister to God’s kingdom. How are we to do that? Living up to the example of Jesus can sometimes feel overwhelming or intimidating. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others and feel that they are doing it “better.” Not wanting to fall short, we try and mimic the way that others minister, even when it doesn’t feel right for us—like trying on a pair of shoes that don’t quite fit.

The measuring stick we use to compare ourselves to others is a very common way of missing the point of what God may be calling us to do. We see the work of others and think: “I could never do that.” By focusing on that person, we are looking at only one way of answering the call of God, assigning holy characteristics to that person. Feeling like we can’t measure up, we give up entirely.

Let’s look at an example. Jesus instructs us to feed the hungry. At first glance, what does that look like? Perhaps you call to mind those incredibly generous people who spend hours every week working at soup kitchens, shopping and cooking for the needy, or running food drives and suppers for the homeless. Once again, the measuring stick comes out.

When this happens, I encourage you to do things:

Do Small Thing With Great Love

Keep in mind that this is not an “all or nothing” endeavor. Maybe you work full time or you have family obligations that prevent you from having lots of hours for volunteer work. Or you live on a budget and can just barely manage your own grocery bill. That’s ok. Find a smaller way to live out this call. Choose one or two items each week to give to the local food pantry. Or donate just a few dollars if that’s all you have to give. 

Keep in mind the words of Mother Teresa: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” There may come a time when the circumstances in your life change, and you’re able to do and give more. If you’ve been faithful to Jesus’ call to feed the hungry in whatever way you can right now, it will be an easy thing to expand what you’re already doing.

Examine Your Gifts

Look for creative ways to live out the words of Jesus—ones that are in line with your God-given gifts. Let’s take our same example of feeding the hungry. Are there other ways you can do this?

  • Be on the lookout for someone who’s hungry for your time and attention.  If God gave you the gift of being a good listener, then this one’s for you!
  • Be on the lookout for someone who’s hungry for peace. If you’re gifted at helping people resolve conflict, then you are doing God’s work!
  • Be on the lookout for someone who’s hungry for an encouraging word. If you have a knack for making people feel good about themselves, then you are most certainly answering God’s call to minister to the Kingdom!

The important thing is to continuously look outward. When you seek out those who may be in need—not just for food, but in need of anything—you’ll discover how you may be particularly suited to help them in various ways.

There are different kinds of gifts. But they are all given to believers by the same Spirit. There are different ways to serve. But they all come from the same Lord. There are different ways the Spirit works. But the same God is working in all these ways and in all people. The Holy Spirit is given to each of us in a special way. That is for the good of all.
 (1 Corinthians 12: 4-7)

If you open up to the many different ways we can all minister to God’s kingdom, you’ll find yourself putting away the measuring stick, and truly following the example of Jesus in exactly the way you were meant to.

Photo by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash

Roadblocks to the Spirit

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Decorative image; road closed sign

Last year, during a particularly bad New England storm, my nephew was trying to get home to visit his parents. The main road in his neighborhood was blocked by a downed wire. He turned around and tried another route, only to find that road was blocked by a tree that had fallen across it. Roadblock after roadblock…it took him almost an hour of circling around town before he could find a way to get home.

Does your spiritual life ever feel like this? Like there’s some obstacle blocking you from getting home to God? This can be a frustrating and lonely experience, but it’s important to remember that these roadblocks are never put there by God! God wants to be in relationship with us. We put up our own barriers, or we let the outside world do it for us.

I have found that there are three types of roadblocks that typically get in the way of a rich and loving relationship with our Creator.

DISTRACTION
Our lives are full of distractions. We’re constantly pulled in so many different directions. I’ve worked in retreat ministry for many years, and the most common reason women resist going away for a retreat is a lack of time. It’s so easy to let other things fill up our lives and crowd out our spiritual growth.

The obstacle of distraction requires us to examine our outer lives. Perhaps it’s time to reevaluate some of our priorities. Making room for God in our lives will give the Holy Spirit plenty of space to dwell in our hearts. Try to take one thing off your plate that isn’t truly serving you or filling you up on your journey of faith.

DOUBT
There are a lot of names for this roadblock. Doubt. Fear. Anxiety. All of these feelings are rooted in a lack of trust. God’s plans don’t always line up with our own plans, and this can leave us feeling shaken and lost. But despite our own doubts, we can be absolutely certain of God’s faithfulness. This belief provides us tremendous comfort as we move through life. The Lord will never abandon us!

The obstacle of doubt requires us to examine our own need to be “in charge.” To surrender to God’s plans and follow where that call may lead. To trust that God is working in our lives. This can be quite challenging for people used to being in control of our lives – but we can overcome that challenge if we believe that God is in control.

GUILT
All too often, I see people holding themselves back from our loving Creator due to a feeling of unworthiness, shame, or guilt. This roadblock is the most heartbreaking, because it’s the most self-inflicted, and it could not be further from the truth. We were created to be loved by God! There’s nothing we can ever do that will separate us from the love of God. As much as we measure our own worth, God doesn’t measure us. Like the prodigal father, God loves us and accepts us exactly the way that we are.

The obstacle of guilt requires us to spend some time really feeling God’s unconditional love and letting it transform us. This can be done by taking a long, loving look at ourselves through the eyes of our Creator. By reflecting on the wonder of our own creation and the unshakeable knowledge that we are God’s beloved.

During this season of Lent, I encourage you to examine anything that might be getting in the way of your relationship with God. See if you can name it. Remind yourself that these roadblocks can be removed through prayer, reflection, and some small changes to your thoughts and actions.

As you grow closer to God over the next 40 days, I offer you this Lenten prayer:

Loving God,
Examine my heart
and help me uncover anything that pulls me away from you.
What obstacles am I stuck behind, hiding behind, or clinging to?
Search my heart.
Help me remove distractions, doubts, and feelings of unworthiness
So that I might live in your love,
follow your call, and grow ever closer to you.
Amen.

Image by Al Seeger from Pixabay

Falling Into God

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Last summer I attended a family reunion in the mountains of northern Maine. One day a group of my nieces and nephews journeyed out to a swimming hole that you could only reach by jumping off a high rock wall. Everyone tried it, including my youngest niece who was only eleven years old! She later admitted that it wasn’t her favorite experience. She didn’t like the feeling of her stomach dropping as she fell. I knew exactly what she meant. I hate that feeling. It’s why I don’t ride roller coasters or jump off high diving boards. The disorienting, out-of-control feeling of falling is not something I would ever do on purpose.

Similarly, the phrase “taking a leap of faith” has never really resonated with me. To me it sounds like the exact same feeling as falling, and I’m not interested! So many other ways we talk about our faith journey evoke this same feeling: falling in faith, surrendering. For people who like to play it safe, this can be a roadblock.

Can we look at this another way? Falling in faith doesn’t have to be an out-of-control free fall with no idea what waits at the bottom. Consider these images:

  • Falling into bed at night letting the soft sheets and fluffy pillows comfort us.
  • Falling in love with a future spouse, a newborn baby, or a special place.
  • Softly falling rain that quenches the earth.
  • Falling to our knees in prayer and gratitude.

Each kind of falling involves a type of surrender – but oftentimes a gentle one. We surrender to sleep – or the deep rest of unburdening that only God can provide. We surrender to the loving arms of God. We surrender our pain and our burdens in prayer. 

These acts of surrender may not be as splashy as the bold leaps of faith we witness in others, but they can bring us just as close to God. And I would encourage you to see that when we do these things, we actually aren’t playing it safe! Trusting that God will meet our needs takes strength and rock-solid faith. The further we allow ourselves to fall, the higher God will lift us up.

Spend some time this week thinking about the ways you allow yourself to fall into your faith. Share your thoughts in the comments section!

Picking Crab Apples

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One day this fall, a student asked me for a spare paper bag so he could pick some crab apples from the tree outside my campus office building. I was puzzled by his request because I never knew crab apples were good for anything (besides dropping on the sidewalk and smushing up under my shoes!) The student surprised me by telling me he was going to use them to make jam.

He explained that the crab apple is just a smaller apple. No one thinks to eat them because we like things that are big and pretty. What a wonderful new insight! I thought the tree outside my building was just ornamental, only meant to be enjoyed for the pretty pink blossoms in the spring. I have since learned that crab apples can be eaten and have the exact same nutritional value as regular apples, just in a smaller package.

How can this old adage, “good things come in small packages” apply to our faith lives? What immediately comes to mind is the parable of the mustard seed:

“He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.” (Matthew 13:31-32)

A podcast on Contemplative At Home calls this “a tiny parable about a tiny thing.” Jesus wants us to see that small beginnings can lead to powerful results. Things that start small can grow and spread. We often discount these tiny movements in our hearts, because we live in a world that celebrates everything that is big and bold and extravagant. It’s easy to feel that the way we express our faith is “not enough.” This parable reveals that the seed holds so much hope and possibility. Even the smallest amount of faith can be enough to set you off on your journey towards God. A journey that will blossom and grow, with branches that intertwine with those you encounter along the way.

Equally important as our small bits of faith are our small actions. My encounter with this student picking crab apples also reminded me of the famous quote by Mother Theresa: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” The world is filled with huge problems and inconceivable amounts of human suffering. It’s hard to believe anything we could do would actually make a difference. Where could we even begin? Well…we begin by doing something small. It may feel insignificant, or woefully inadequate. But the love that accompanies each small act will magnify and warm the hearts of whoever may be receiving the act of kindness. And that’s how it begins to spread. 

To Retreat With the Lord

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When a new year begins, I like to spend some time reflecting on the themes that filled the year (or years) I’m leaving behind. Last year held many moments of joy, family, friendship, and fun. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t also marked by a lingering sense of isolation, withdrawal, and social distance. Many of us spent more time than we thought we would this year staying home. Avoiding crowds. Retreating from friends, family, and social gatherings. During the pandemic, the idea of “retreat” has taken on a new meaning, one which is a far cry from the kind of spiritual retreats that have defined my ministry over the past 13 years.  

The Omicron variant once again threatens to plunge us into isolation and quarantine. My husband and I have made the decision to hunker down as best we can for the next few weeks until this new (and hopefully final!) surge passes. But that doesn’t mean our time of retreat can’t also be a welcome sanctuary or a time of fruitful solitude. For today’s reflection, I would like to reclaim the idea of “retreat” as a spiritual practice—a way to grow closer to God, to deepen our faith, and to feel alive in the Spirit.

What does it mean to retreat with the Lord? Contrary to the effects of isolation and solitude, when you spiritually retreat, you aren’t bored and alone. You’re spending wondrous and meaningful time with your Creator. You aren’t hiding away from things that frighten you. You’re reaching out to a loving God who is waiting for you. You aren’t wasting precious time, longing for the day you can be free of this isolation. You’re spending precious moments with the One who chooses you, blesses you, and calls you to a life full of promise. When you retreat with the Lord, you are creating a spiritual practice that is rich and alive and full of hope. 

A retreat is an opportunity to come away to a safe, sacred space to reflect on your relationship with your Loving Creator. To listen for the still, small voice of God. To welcome the Lord into every moment of your life. Refreshed and renewed by God’s gentle grace, you will leave a time of retreat affirmed by God’s unconditional love, ready to continue your faith journey and to answer the call of God, wherever it may lead.

I usually recommend going away to attend a retreat—for a weekend, an afternoon, or even an hour-long program at your church or local retreat center. It makes such a difference to go away to another place, where you can open yourself to God’s whispers without the distractions of all that you leave behind. But we’ve learned from the pandemic that this isn’t always possible. And so I want you to know that it can be just as meaningful to engage in a spiritual retreat in the comfort (and safety!) of your own home. Watching a short YouTube video on a spiritual topic can be a retreat. Spending intentional time in prayer or reflection can be a retreat. Taking a walk in the woods can be a retreat. Even reading this blog post can be a retreat!

So I invite you to join me these next few weeks—whether you have chosen to stick close to home or not—to make January a time of retreating with the Lord. Let this be a time of searching and deep contemplation. Allow your soul to become a sanctuary where God’s love dwells and abides. Let your spirit respond to the spark of creation and mystery.

Here are a few tips to keep in mind when doing this:

RETREAT WITH INTENTION

Set aside time for your retreat practice. Make it a sacred promise. Choose a regular day that you can devote to spending some much-needed time with the Lord. Be faithful to that time.

SET THE SCENE OR CREATE A RITUAL 

Make your retreat time different from your “usual” time of being home on your own. Use candles, music, or other sensory rich practices to bring you away from your daily activities into this rich and sacred time with God.

BEGIN WITH A PRAYER

Dear Lord, as I enter into this sacred time, may I feel surrounded by your loving presence. In the quiet stillness may I hear You speak to me. In Your loving embrace, may I be restored.

REFLECT ON YOUR POST-RETREAT INSIGHTS

Keep a journal to jot down any thoughts or inspirations that came to you during your retreat. Or call a friend or family member and share your insights with them. Look for patterns or recurring themes in your notes. That is what God most wants you to hear!

As your spiritual practice takes root in your heart, it’s my hope that you can reclaim the idea of “retreat” as a positive practice and not a lonely necessity. Let this first month of the New Year be filled with hope, possibility, and wonder.

​​Background photo by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash

Meeting Jesus Somewhere Along the Way

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I’ve been thinking about how often I use the word “perfect.” When I experience a day where everything goes just exactly right, I describe it as a “perfect” day. If I’m throwing a dinner party (remember when we used to do that?) every last detail has to be “perfect.” If I’m writing a blog post or a spiritual reflection, I have to find the “perfect” way to get my message across. In each of these examples, I’m placing incredibly high expectations on whatever I’m doing or experiencing. My standards are impossibly high, and if anything goes wrong, it tarnishes the entire thing.

I wonder if this type of thinking is more harmful than good. The human condition is that we are not perfect. In fact, we were never meant to achieve perfection. It’s our flaws and our brokenness that make us children of God. 

God loves us… 

in spite of… 
because of… 
regardless of… 

our brokenness.

More than that, our brokenness is actually critical to a deepening relationship with God. We need our cracks and broken places. As it’s so beautifully stated by playwright Heather McDonald: 

“It is said that grace enters the soul through a wound.”

What if we stopped looking at our cracks and imperfections as barriers to God, but instead saw them as openings through which God’s love and grace might enter our souls? In other words, just because we’re not totally perfect, it doesn’t mean we’re totally worthless. This “all or nothing” thinking gets us nowhere and leaves us stuck. If I can’t achieve perfection, then why not just give up? Why bother?  

I work at a university, and a professor once told me a story of a bright and talented student who was three weeks late turning in a paper. When he asked her to explain the delay, she revealed a deep fear that the paper wasn’t perfect. She was frozen. She couldn’t bring herself to turn in her paper knowing it had flaws.

Although we routinely use this gauge of perfection to judge ourselves and others, that’s not how God sees us! God wants us to know that this “all or nothing” thinking is not constructive. It doesn’t move us toward wholeness. It doesn’t aid our spiritual growth. We do not need to be perfect. In the words of St. Augustine:

“This is the very perfection of a man, to find out his own imperfections.”

God’s love has never been dependent on our being perfect. When Jesus lived on earth, he spent his time with the poor, the meek, the sick, and the sinful. None of these could claim to be perfect. Yet Jesus loved them. Just as Jesus loves us. Not because we’re perfect…but because we belong to God. We only need to look at the saints to see the truth in this. They were not perfect either, in fact some of them were deeply flawed. But what sets them apart is that they gave their flaws over to God. They came to God with open wounds…willing to let God’s grace enter.

Our journey of faith is not one that has a finish line. It’s not something we “win” or come in first place. We don’t need to arrive at this mythical place of perfection…in fact we cannot. We remain in the middle of the road or the “somewhere along the way” point. 

  • What does this “middle of the road” look like to you? 
  • Picture meeting Jesus “somewhere along the way.” What might Jesus be saying to you as you continue on this journey together?

During this Lenten season, I pray that you will know and believe that God loves and accepts you exactly as you are! It doesn’t mean God doesn’t want you to strive towards “better.” But you can do this knowing you’ll never reach “best.” And that’s “perfectly” ok!

The Wonder of Waiting

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Advent is a season of waiting. A time to prepare for the coming of Christ. A period of anticipation. In general, how do you view the experience of waiting? Some people find it very difficult. They don’t have the patience or the trust to let the process unfold the way it’s meant to. (There are plenty of times when I fall into this category!) Research has shown that over the years people expect things to happen faster and faster. The pace of pedestrians walking on sidewalks has sped up. Road rage is more common. Waiting in line feels like agony for many people.

Other people welcome waiting because of how they choose to view it—as an act of anticipation instead of a waste of time. I have always felt that looking forward to an exciting event (a trip, a party, a special occasion) was just as enjoyable as the event itself. My husband tells me I live my life “looking forward to the next thing.” During this year of the pandemic, we’ve all been forced to put many of our plans on hold. It’s not easy, particularly in celebrating the holidays. My niece, Lucy —in her lovely optimistic way—predicted that next year, our holiday season will feel all the more joyful, because of how long we had to wait to gather with our families. Every hug will feel like a small miracle. The waiting is incredibly painful right now, but the joy that will come fills me with hope and excitement.

The season of Advent ushers in the coming of Christ, but we aren’t simply remembering that long-ago time of waiting for the birth of Jesus, something that happened 2000 years ago. Our waiting is active, and present, and alive. During Advent, there are three layers to our waiting:

  • Waiting for Jesus to be born (past)
  • Waiting for Jesus to come into our lives every day (present)
  • Waiting for Jesus to come again in glory (future)

It’s the second one—the everyday waiting—that I’m focused on these days. My college-aged sons have a car now, so when they come home from school, I never quite know when they’ll arrive. That excited feeling of wondering when they’ll walk through the door is so filled with hope. What if we approached every day with this sense of faith-filled anticipation? When or how will Christ come to us today? When will Jesus walk through the door of our hearts?

Each day brings opportunities for an encounter with our loving God…during a phone call with a friend, a walk with a family member, or an email exchange with a co-worker. Or you may find God while walking in the woods, admiring a sunset, or listening to the ocean. Christ may come to you in your art—through music, writing or any creative act.

In Latin, Advent means “coming,” not “finding.” We don’t have to go out and search for Jesus. Christ will come no matter what—that’s the core of our belief as Christians. We simply have to notice when He comes into our lives. This is a daily invitation—not just for the four weeks of Advent—but for every day throughout the year. Wake up each morning and ask yourself: “When will I encounter God today?” These moments are easy to miss when we’re preoccupied and distracted, so be awake and watchful in your waiting. Hold onto that excited feeling of waiting for a beloved family member to walk through the door, and I promise you won’t miss the moment when Jesus comes to you in your day.

Maranatha
Come, Lord Jesus!

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

To Be Full of Confidence

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Canoe

If you’re like me, you may not be feeling too confident about a lot of things right now. You’re not confident that schools will reopen or stay open, or various leaders will make the right decisions to keep communities safe. You’re not confident that everyone in your community will abide by public safety measures to protect one another. You’re not confident that you’ll keep your job or stay healthy. Perhaps most importantly, you’re not confident that you’ll be able to handle all this stress, fear, and uncertainty!

There’s a Hebrew word “batach” that means “to be full of confidence.” Not a tentative feeling of hope, but a bold sense of well-being that comes with placing our trust in God. A sense of security that never fully comes when we place our trust in things of this Earth…in our own actions, in other people, in institutions, or in material possessions.

In you our ancestors put their trust;
they trusted and you delivered them.
(Psalm 22:4)

Batach encourages us to ask the question: “Who’s really the captain of this ship?” It’s such a temptation to believe that we’re in control of our own destiny. The entire “American Dream” was founded on this belief. We are in charge! But what happens—as we saw this winter, spring, and summer with the horrifying spread of the coronavirus pandemic—when something happens to upend our carefully laid out plans? Something we did not expect and did not prepare for? We feel shaken. 

I have only been in a canoe once in my life. I hated the feeling of stepping into the shaky canoe and trying to gain my own balance while balancing the rocking canoe at the same time. (It didn’t hurt that during my one and only trip, my sister and I capsized the canoe trying to take a turn too sharply!) Nothing about the experience left me feeling in control and it was easier to never step foot in a canoe again. I chose the safety of my feet on solid ground.

What would it take to boldly place our trust in God? It’s tempting to resist this feeling of not being in control. But actually, it’s incredibly liberating! God is the “captain” of our ship and loves us unconditionally and is working for good in our lives. God can be trusted. Batach is the knowledge that God is leading us to our destiny and our only job is to follow.

What you put in God’s hands is safe. God can go where you can’t go. So why not put your life in God’s hands and let go of the need to control? If we relinquish our tight-fisted control over our own lives, we will achieve inner peace. When we put our trust and belief in something greater than ourselves, our world will open up in new ways.

The next time you get that scared or panicky feeling because you don’t know what’s going to happen in your life or in the world, take a deep breath and repeat the word “batach.” Imagine yourself placing the worry or uncertainty in God’s hands. Keep doing this until you feel more and more confident that God really is in control. It won’t eliminate the uncertainty from your life, but it will give you the calm sense of confidence that you can face whatever comes, because you won’t be facing it alone.

Blue Skies Above

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blue skies

When was the last time you experienced a day free from worries? A day when you had a spring in your step, there was not a cloud in the sky, the birds were singing and all seemed well with the world. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Our world just isn’t that sunny right now. The COVID-19 pandemic still grows in many states. Racial inequality continues to reveal itself in our society. The economy has people worried about losing jobs, paying rent, or affording school. These are some REALLY dark clouds; there’s no use pretending otherwise. But amidst the darkness, there’s something else we need to acknowledge.

“Above the clouds the sky is always blue.”
 – St. Therese of Lisieux

Perhaps you’ve heard the commonly told metaphor about the airplane that ascends through thick, turbulent clouds and eventually breaks through above the clouds to brilliant blue skies and dazzling sunshine. It was up there the whole time. The passengers on the plane learn something that those on the ground may have trouble believing. Above the clouds the sky is always blue.

For those of us on the ground right now, it seems like those blue skies are very, very far away. Feeling bogged down with worries last week, I decided I needed to see the ocean. Feeling spontaneous and free, my husband and I hopped in the car and drove to the shore, only to realize as we got closer that the overcast sky was not going away, and instead producing a steady drizzle. I almost cried in frustration and disappointment. It felt like a sign that my worries were justified. My always patient husband convinced me to wait it out a little while. We took a leisurely drive through the shore towns and returned to the beach just in time for the rain to stop. The clouds were still there, but we were able to walk, swim, and breathe in the ocean air. It was just what I needed. I learned two important lessons from my beach trip that morning.

GOD IS ALWAYS WITH US

Just as the presence of clouds doesn’t mean the sun is gone, dark times in our lives do not mean that God is absent. As I was writing this reflection yesterday afternoon, it was another dark and cloudy day. The clouds were so thick that I had to turn on the lights in my house. At that moment it was hard to imagine a brilliant sun was still up there shining in the sky. But it was. God is always there, loving us, holding us up, and gifting us with grace. It requires faith—sometimes LOTS and LOTS of faith—to believe this, especially when there is so much suffering around us. We must trust in God and believe that God is working in our lives.

GRATITUDE IS ESSENTIAL

The second lesson I learned is that the sun may not come out exactly when we want it to. Patience is required. The darkness can linger, but it is easier to bear if we approach it with gratitude. Look for things to be grateful for despite the clouds…or even because of the clouds. Cloudy days have something to teach us. There are lessons to be learned about love, life, and faith. Even in the dark, there is so much light around us. 

I believe in my heart that things will get better in our world. By putting our trust in science, honest leaders, and the fundamental goodness in humanity, the clouds will pass, and we will see blue skies again. We are learning lessons through this time of turbulence that will change the way we treat one another, the way we treat our planet, the way we take care of ourselves in body, mind, and spirit. Most importantly, many of us are learning a new way to trust in God.

“Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow. The same Eternal Father who takes care of you today will take care of you tomorrow, and every day of your life. Either He will shield you from suffering or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it.”
-Saint Francis de Sales (1567-1622) 

Happy Color pic

The Breath of Life: The Killing of George Floyd

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dandelion 3

In these extraordinarily troubling times, I find myself reflecting on the act of breathing.

Breathing is so basic and fundamental to life, but it also calls forth our connection to God in a very powerful way. The book of Genesis says: “Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.” In Latin, spiritus means “the breath of life.”  The very spirit of God breathed into us at the moment of our Creation.

Using breath as a form of prayer is an ancient Christian practice. The Hebrew words for “breath” and “spirit” are the same. When we’re breathing, we call forth the Holy Spirit that dwells within us. We’re using our bodies to focus on the essence of our connection with God—our own moment of Divine creation when God breathed the breath of life into our nostrils.

In practices like yoga and mindfulness, we focus on breath to center ourselves, to calm our minds, to relieve pain. How easily we take for granted the simple act of taking in oxygen to sustain life in our human bodies.

Then came COVID-19 with its insidious attack on our respiratory systems. We realized how fragile life can be.  As conversations swirled around chest pain, ventilators, and intubation tubes, we watched this virus cruelly suffocating people, resulting in death, after death, after death.

But it wasn’t COVID-19 that killed George Floyd. His life was taken by a cruel act of violence at the hands of a police officer. His words “I can’t breathe” should haunt each and every one of us as we confront this vile sickness of racism that plagues our country and robbed George Floyd—and so many other Black citizens—of their breath and their lives. Systemic racism is a contagion that has been around far longer than COVID-19, and has taken life and liberty from countless numbers of God’s children.

For those of us with privilege, doing our part to rid the world of COVID-19 was in many ways easy. All we had to do was stay home. We made donations from the safety of our computers, we sewed masks, and we supported our local businesses.  But we also took long walks, played board games, baked bread, and organized Zoom gatherings with our loved ones. We spent more time than ever before outside, breathing in deeply as winter gave way to spring. We worked hard to manage our anxiety as we prayed for God’s healing for all those who were sick, and we prayed for God’s protection for all those bravely serving on the front lines of this virus.

For those of us who are white, doing our part to rid the world of racism will not be as easy. It will make us uncomfortable and ask more from us than we may currently be giving. We must begin by examining our own assumptions and behaviors, and this can be a painful process. We must speak up in ways that may feel scary. I have been guilty of this for many years.  I stayed quiet for fear of “making waves,” turning people away, saying the wrong thing, or offending someone.

Remember, Jesus came to challenge the status quo. He wasn’t afraid to speak out, to call out hypocrisy, to stand in solidarity with the marginalized and the oppressed. If we believe in a God of love, we cannot remain silent. If we believe in the sanctity and dignity of human life, we must actively speak out against the loss of Black lives from systemic racism and acts of hatred. In the words of Fr. William Wallace, O.S.A., J.D.­— “As members of the one Body of Christ we must stand in support of all those who are understandably outraged and who feel that they are not being heard. We must affirmatively choose the more difficult, but more right and just, path of engagement and action, instead of the easy path of indifference and inaction.”

I am more conscious of my breathing now, recognizing each breath as a gift from God. A gift that belongs to each and every one of us. I will use my breath to thank God for sparing me and my loved ones from the terrorizing reality of COVID-19. I will use my breath to talk about the fact that Black Americans are disproportionately affected by this virus and are losing jobs at a higher rate. I will use my breath not only to pray for an end to racism, but to actively work to be part of the solution, speaking out against the racial violence that has been perpetrated against Black Americans for hundreds of years. I will use my breath to listen, to educate myself, and to stand in solidarity with the Black community.

“And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)